#i might cosplay ruby soon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

The Crawler’s Day Off

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: Vigilantes- My Hero Academia Illegals

Characters: Koichi Haimawari, Kazuho Haneyama

A sedated smile decorated Koichi’s lips as he leisurely strolled across the sidewalk leading up to the spacious mall looming before him. To celebrate the conclusion of his college midterms, Kazuho had invited him to peruse the mall for a few hours. The mall’s hero merchandise shop had launched a new line of All Might hoodies, so naturally, Koichi was mega-game.

Heat simmered across the pavement as it soaked up the sizzling summer sun blazing in the azure sky. The bare skin of his limbs very much enjoyed soaking up the pleasant heat provided by the rays spearing down from the atmosphere. Though it was the height of the season, Koichi’s trusty All Might hoodie looped around his waist, the sleeves flopping against his thighs with every step. A vigilante never knew when or where they had to spring into action, after all. Since his gain in popularity, Koichi had taken to carting around his hoodie and mask wherever he went, just in case.

“Koichiiiii~!” The young college boy stopped in his tracks, craning his head as his name floated out of the crowd eclipsing the mall’s entrance. After a quick scan, he spotted a shock of poofy magenta hair bouncing around a grinning bespectacled face. Koichi found his smile brightening as he spotted Kazuho. He quickened his pace, eagerly trotting up to her.

“Hey. Have you been waiting very long?” Koichi asked sheepishly, his smile crinkling with mild guilt. Kazuho smiled pleasantly as she shook her head. “Oh, great. Ready to go inside, then?” he asked with a gesture towards the automatic sliding glass doors. Kazuho responded with a bright “Yep!” and they strolled into the massive building together.

As they stepped over the threshold, two things struck Koichi: the refreshing blast of the air conditioner and the cacophony of the throng. People milled about the mall’s central rotunda or meandered towards their favorite stores, all while chattering incessantly. As it was a Saturday, the nearby settlements’ young residents had flocked to the mall to escape the intense summer heat and indulge in some shopping. Shouting slightly to surpass the dissonance of a thousand conversations, he asked Kazuho, “What would you like to do first?”

“Eh? Didn’t you want to go to that merch store or whatever, Koichi?” she asked loudly while playing with the voluminous end of one of her pigtails. Koichi’s cheeks pinkened at her consideration, and he rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes trailed to the colorful signs and cosplayed mannequins adorning the shop’s front. His blue eyes flickered back to the girl, who just regarded him curiously.

“We can go there later,” he decided, though every cell in his body vibrated with the need to have his hands on the new limited-edition hoodie as soon as possible. Kazuho had been nice enough to invite him on the outing, so the least he could do was allow her to enjoy herself. “Is there anywhere you want to go?”

Kazuho’s cheeks turned the color of her hair as her magenta eyes drifted eastward.

“Well,” she offered shyly, wringing her hands and jingling the bracelets around her wrist, “I’d really like to check out the bath products store… They have nice bath bombs…” Kazuho’s gaze flickered to him anxiously, as if she expected him to scoff in disdain. The boy just smiled and began walking purposefully towards that end of the mall.

“All right, then! Bath bombs, here we come!” As he strode off, he heard Kazuho squeak, and her flats slap-slapped after him.

“Wait! Koichi!”

~~~~~~~~~~

The bath bomb store nestled between a jewelry store and a bookstore. Koichi mulled about as Kazuho inspected the various wares piled in the plastic bin, picking up the compressed balls of soap and sniffing them to decide on her favorite aromas. Koichi realized that he was the only male in the store, but he didn’t mind; Kazuho’s eyes sparkled with delight as she sampled the bath bombs, so he was content as long as she was. As he waited patiently for her to choose her purchases, he meandered around, flipping open random bottles of shea butter lotions and shower gels to sniff them. He had to admit, quite a few of them smelled very lovely indeed.

As he sniffed at a bottle of red apple-scented shower gel, a sudden scream made him gasp and drop the bottle. Droplets of viscous ruby liquid splashed across the white tile as he dashed to the storefront, looking left and right. People shrieked and tripped over one another as they raced away like scattered marbles. Koichi’s keen eyes tracked their frantic movements to their origin- the jewelry store next door.

“Put it all in the bag! Hurry up!” A villain cornering a terrified jeweler barked savagely as he brandished a wicked-looked firearm in her face. Upon closer inspection, Koichi realized that the weapon actually morphed out of his hand. He can turn his body into guns? Freaky! Koichi thought as he gawked shamelessly. He only stumbled backward when Kazuho forcibly yanked him, dragging him around the displays of shampoos and conditioners and lotions to the back of the store. The cashiers and other customers huddled behind the register counter, one of them frantically speaking to an emergency operator.

“Koichi! Are we gonna do something?” Kazuho hissed as she squatted down behind a round display, jerking him down into a crouch beside her. Koichi frowned; though he’d brought his disguise, a mall was a terribly busy place. Several pro heroes were bound to be patrolling the complex, and they wouldn’t take well to a pair of vigilantes up-staging them. However, he could hear the frightened jewelry store girl pitifully sobbing as she frantically gathered the gold and silver wares at gunpoint.

“Someone has to do something,” he resolved, untying his hoodie so he could slink his arms through the sleeve and tug the hood up over his head. He fished his mask out of the pocket and strapped it over his face. “Stay here, Pop. Make sure the people in here are safe,” he ordered in a whisper before crawling out from behind the display.

“Okay. Be careful!” Kazuho whispered, her magenta eyes wide as she watched him slowly crawl on all fours back to the front of the store.

The mall was a ghost town; all the patrons had fled en masse, leaving the area silent except for the whimpers of the jewelry shop attendant and the angry curses of the robber. Koichi’s eyebrows narrowed in stark peaks over his oceanic eyes as he peered around the edge of the slim wall adjoining the two shops. One gun jutted out of the gunman’s leg to pin down the quivering security guard hunched in the corner between two bullet-ridden, shattered glass display cases. It looks like he can control the guns independently and produce them from any point on his body… That could be a problem, he frowned thoughtfully.

Still, time was of the essence. Koichi had to try.

Activating his Quirk, he zoomed across the tile, zig-zagging towards the gunman. Though Koichi’d hoped to catch him by surprise, the young girl gasping “oh!” when she caught sight of him rapidly slithering in made the villain whip around. Three pistols sprung up from his shoulders to automatically pepper Koichi with shots. The vigilante hurriedly hurled himself sideways to roll behind an undamaged display, though a bullet grazed his shin and splashed blood across the floor. He hissed at the sharp sting that bloomed across the nerve endings of his leg.

“Who’s there? A hero?” the villain demanded. Koichi heard the girl screech and dissolve into blubbering sobs. Eyes narrowed, Koichi peered into the reflection of a small viewing mirror. Through the cracked glass, he observed the assailant grab the jeweler roughly by the arm and yank her halfway over the counter while pressing the barrel of the gun against her temple. “Don’t you get any funny ideas!” he snarled over the desperate wails of the terrorized woman, who probably didn’t get paid enough for this. “I’ll do it! I swear!” He punctuated the promise with a cock of the gun, making the girl moan mournfully.

“Hey, hey, now,” Koichi called nonchalantly, easing his raised hands over the top of the counter with his arms tensed to yank them down in case the startled gunman tried to blow his fingers off. The unstable villain just watched with bloodshot eyes as Koichi inched his head up over the bullet-nicked counter. “Let’s just take it down a notch, both of us, yeah? I ain’t lookin’ for a fight.”

The villain’s eyebrow twitched as he regarded the teenager skeptically. With his hands still extended over his head, Koichi directed both his index fingers to the crying woman. “I just want the girl, yeah? You can rob the store all you want, but let’s just let her go, okay? This is way above her paygrade.”

“Yeah, but then I’d be deprived of a hostage.”

Finally, Koichi got a good glimpse of the offender. A muscle-bound brute well over six-feet, two-hundred pounds, the young vigilante only hoped to defeat him with a surprise attack with the frightened girl well out of harm’s way. Koichi’s eyes widened as he heard a few of the guns protruding from the villain’s body click, and he waved his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, man! It’s all good! I don’t have any fancy tricks up my sleeve.” He grinned cheesily as he all but lied through his teeth.

“Please,” the young girl pleading miserably through hiccuping sobs. “Just let me go. Take all the jewelry and money, I don’t care, just please- ahhhhhh!” Her pleas morphed into another round of screaming as the gunman shoved her down into the broken glass. His eyes trained on Koichi, who gradually edged himself to the left each time the opportunity presented itself.

“Shut up, bitch. Finish loading up the goods!” he snarled and shoved her harshly away. The girl tripped over her heels and landed on her rump, but hurriedly crawled to the case to begin shoveling rings and necklaces and earrings into the sack through blurry tears. When the man was momentarily distracted by ordering her around, Koichi dropped back onto all fours. He activated his Quirk to zoom up the wall and across the ceiling.

“What the hell-? Hey!” the man yelled, whipping around the shoot several of his guns at Koichi, who zig-zagged across the ceiling a skittering spider. The bullets narrowly avoided him, punching holes in the thin cardboard of the ceiling tiles. The girl took the opportunity to escape; panting, she clambered on all fours away from her assailant. Unfortunately, the man took notice. He materialized a new set of guns fixed directly on her crawling form. “Get back here!”

As the guns exploded with loud pops, Koichi dove down the wall to scoop up the attendant, wrapping his arms around her middle and throwing all his weight to his left. He carried her with him as he rolled over behind another counter. He deposited her near the rattled security guard, who yelled at their sudden appearance.

“Hold on. I’ll get you out of here,” Koichi ordered with a stern point of his finger. The white-faced girl just nodded frantically, irises swimming in a white sea. The villain now stamped around the back of the counter, cursing loudly and shooting in random directions as he gathered up his haul. Koichi carefully timed the firing of the guns with his sharp eyes to rapidly discern a pattern. He pinpointed a minute gap in their interval, one that would allow him to scoop up the two hostages and escape. Koichi had no care to combat the crazed, infuriated man; he’d leave that to the pro heroes. He was fast, not bulletproof.

“Now!” he cried, grabbing hold of the man and woman in the split-second gap between the gunfire. He kicked off the counter using his Quirk to boost his force, sending them hurtling out of the jewelry store into the common area. Koichi slammed into a sofa, flinging the two hostages around either side while he slid down the back of the couch with an agonized groan. He quickly recollected himself, rubbing his bruised nose and rising to peek around the spine of the couch. Though thoroughly rattled, neither hostages were significantly injured. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Get back here, you little shit!”

“Oop! Time to dash,” Koichi gulped, dropping back down to all fours and firing up his Quirk. He zoomed away, zig-zagging to dodge the bullets raining down around him. He slipped right through the legs of a police officer rushing towards the scene with his gun drawn. It seemed the cavalry had finally arrived, and Koichi had no care to stick around for the conclusion. He’d saved the civilians; that’s all that mattered.

Koichi hurriedly slipped into an abandoned side exit hall and stripped himself of his All Might hoodie and mask, stashing it in a decorative plant and playing the part of the frightened onlooker as a few police officers and a sidekick dashed by. After they migrated off, satisfied the stammering boy cowering behind the fern was not their masked illegal hero, Koichi bought himself a bottle of water from the nearby vending machine. He drained it to the dregs in three large gulps. He tossed it into the nearby trashcan and then sunk onto the metal bench beside it, sagging as the adrenaline caught up to him.

“Ahhh… So much for a relaxing trip to the mall,” Koichi pouted. Still, as he fingered the fabric of his All Might hoodie still stuffed down between the broad leaves of the fresh-smelling fern, he smiled brightly. He saw the woman and security guard being led to safety, shock blankets hugging their forms. The woman paused when she glanced at him, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. As tears filled her eyes, she mouthed a simple thanks before allowing the EMT to lead her away.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Koichi! Are you okay?” Kazuho cried as he limped through the glass double doors of the mall entrance. She rushed up at him, grabbing him by the biceps to look him up and down frantically. “The heroes just led the villain out in cuffs. What a brute! Are you sure you aren’t hurt?”

“I’m fine, Pop,” he reassured her with an amused smile, regaled by her concern for him. “A bullet just grazed my leg; it’s nothin’ major. It isn’t even bleeding anymore.” Kazuho’s head dipped down to critically inspect the wound on his shin. After frowning at it for several seconds, she stepped away from him, cheeks pinkened.

“You didn’t come back immediately… I was worried.”

“Yeah,” he sighed apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing at the sweat coating his fingertips, “I lied low for a while to keep from attracting attention… I made a pretty good show of myself, after all.”

“You sure did,” Kazuho laughed, pulling out her phone. She beckoned him to look over her shoulder as she pulled up a webpage; the video she showed him featured him zooming out of the jewelry store with the hostages in tow. The headline read, The Crawler’s Day Off? Heroic Mall Rescue by Naruhata Vigilante!

“Wow,” he appreciated with a low whistle. “That was fast.”

“Yup,” she agreed as she pocketed her smartphone. “I would say that was a productive day, wouldn’t you?” At her girlish giggle, Koichi’s body sagged, and he released a miserable whine.

“No! I didn’t get that new hoodie! They’re probably all sold out now…”

“Actually…” As Kazuho shyly spoke up, pressing the pad of her index finger to her lips as she bashfully swayed her hips from side to side, Koichi sprang up like a soldier snapping to attention. She snickered and pulled a shopping bag from behind her back. Koichi’s breath left him in an awed gasp.

“Pop… You didn’t…”

“While you were laying low, I ran by the store and snagged the last one.”

“Thank you!” he trilled, snatching the bag as tears brimmed in his eyes. He cooed delightedly as he pulled the hoodie from the paper bag. He abandoned the container as he raised the article of clothing to adoringly admire it. “It’s spectacular… Pop, thank you!” he grinned, dropping the hoodie to reveal his absolutely beaming grin. Kazuho blushed and played with a chunk of her poofy pink hair.

“Of course. I know how excited you were about it, so…”

“But this must have cost so much! I have to pay you back.” As he went fishing his wallet out of his back pocket, Kazuho grabbed his wrist.

“No, it’s okay,” she refused with a soft smile. She pulled her hand back, and Koichi’s arm flopped limply to his side as he stared at her in bewilderment. Going shy again, she once more swung her hips slowly from left to right and back again. “I was happy to buy it for you. You can just make it up to me by using it well.”

Koichi blinked, humbled by her statement. Then, his grin widened, stretching his cheeks to an almost painful degree. He dropped his hoodie from his hips, depositing it in the shopping bag, before slipping his arms into the new one. “Y-you’re gonna wear that in this heat?!” Kazuho spluttered.

“Yep,” Koichi smiled as he flapped the front of the jacket to settle it over his torso. He then leaned down to pick up the shopping bag. “Sure am. So, wanna head home? I’m starving.”

Kazuho stared at him incredulously for a moment, then laughed mirthfully.

“Sure. How about curry?”

“Yum! My favorite!”

Use it well, Kazuho’s voice echoed in his mind as he strolled alongside her. The image of the woman thanking him then came to mind.

Yeah, Pop. I sure will.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#koichi haimawari #haneyama kazuho #haimawari koichi #kazuho haneyama #my hero academia vigilantes #my hero academia illegals #vigilantes #mha vigilantes #bnha vigilantes

10 notes · View notes

ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

In the Desert (1 part), a fantasy of Dirkhan in the Desert and Uman the Fat

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Dirkhan in the Desert

IN THE DESERT

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

Cover by Wind the Mama Cat

1474 words

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan activity including but not limited to art, stories, musical compositions, plays or anything else is ACTIVELY ENCOURAGED.

///////////////////////

The nomad’s arrow thumped into Uman’s camel. That was an accident. He had meant the shaft for Uman. The beast gave an expressive groan and took off like it had wings instead of feet. Very few things can catch a camel that has made up its mind to run. Uman the Fat hung on and let the camel have its head. It easily out-paced his pursuers’ horses and settled down to a distance-eating trot.

Uman reflected that he was not much better off now than he was as a prisoner in the gem mines of Lusk. He earned that fate by being a mercenary on the wrong side of a civil war. He’d always earned his living by dame Fortune. Uman had been many things in his life: fortune hunter, thief, adventurer, mercenary soldier. The big adventurer had worked harder for his independence than most who labored for a living. In the process, he had earned and lost more than many would ever see.

On the first day of his flight from Lusk, he had the misfortune to run into a band of nomads. Even worse, they knew him from the recent civil war. Hence, the arrow flighted at him.

On the second day after his camel was hit, it began to stagger and show severe distress. Before noon, it pitched onto the ground and died. Uman gathered as much of his gear as he could carry and began to walk.

The Skrald Iden seemed even hotter once he was on foot. The heat caused shimmering mirages that made the stones waver and dance. Uman walked as long as he was able. At last, he came to the end of his water, and soon after, the end of his considerable endurance.

Uman drained the very last drop of water from his canteen. He shook it in futile frustration. He was about to hurl it away with an oath. Thinking better of his action, he contented himself with the oath. Rehanging the canteen by its strap, he averred to himself, “Never can tell, it might be useful again.”

Spying an outcrop of rock that ran from east to west, Uman hastened into its shade. “This will last until the cool of the evening. Travel will be easier then,” he thought, loosening his head-cloth and settling himself as comfortably as he could. He began a futile attempt at napping to save his energy for the evening and night’s travel.

He could not get comfortable. There were hard, lumpy little stones everywhere. Looking more closely, he saw that there was a layer of gravel under the cap of rock on the outcrop.

“This looks like the gravel they made me dig when I mined for gems in Lusk,” he muttered to himself, running some of the small stones through his fingers.” I wonder…”

Uman began idly scrabbling at the gravel to pass the time. He was about to give it up as a complete waste of effort when he found a pebble that looked different from the others. He licked it, to see better what it looked like. A brilliant blue winked back at him when he held the dampened stone in the sunlight. “I don’t believe it! This is a sapphire or I’m a eunuch!” he exclaimed.

Uman began digging at the gravel like a terrier digging for a rodent. With each new find, he exclaimed in delight and dug again. After a while, he rested from his digging. In his hands were five sapphires, three rubies and a beryl.

As he admired his finds he said, “This is a nice little packet. Still, I have to get out of the Skrald Iden alive if I am to enjoy it. I would trade the lot for enough water to get to Derkhan.”

Suddenly he froze. A desert viper had silently crept to within inches of his leg. “You spoke my name and I am here,” said a voice that rasped like dry stones within his brain. “Your bargain is acceptable.”

“Who are you? Where are you?” asked Uman in an urgent whisper.

“I am Skrald Iden and I am beside your leg,” came a reply like a slide of sand.

“There is a viper by my leg. Is that you?” inquired Uman softly.

“That is my form. I am the god of these waste-lands. If you honor the bargain that you offered, I will not bite you. I will guide you to water.”

“It’s a bit strange, conversing with a serpent, but I will follow you,” replied Uman with more confidence. He gathered his few possessions and stood up, saying, “Lead on.”

As he followed the reptile through a maze of tortured rock, he said conversationally, “I thought that Skrald Iden was the name of the desert.”

The reply in his brain was like a sere wind. “It is the name of the desert. This desert was named for me.”

Uman was tired, hot and thirsty after several hours of following the reptile. He was beginning to stagger some when a small building came into sight. It was made of a translucent green stone.

The building proved to be a small temple. As he entered it, he faked a stagger so that he could lurch against the stone and feel it with his hand. It had a cool, almost silky feel.

The altar was empty. The snake crossed the floor, found purchase on several inconspicuous projections and climbed onto the altar. It grew larger, until it had filled the top of the altar, arranged itself neatly and turned to stone.

The desolate voice spoke inside his brain once more, “Your bargain, man. Put all the stones that you have found into my mouth.”

Prostrating himself before the altar, Uman asked, “Are your fangs still poisoned? They look sharp.”

The arid voice inside his head replied, “I will not hurt you, man, if you do as I say. Water awaits your cooperation.”

Placing the stones into the god̓s mouth, Uman asked, “I know that you do not come every time that someone speaks your name. Was I just lucky?”

“Indeed you were,” replied the god, its scales turning from dusty brown to jewel-like blues, reds and pale green as the stones vanished from its mouth. “Most of my time is spent with my fellow gods. I look over my desert about once every hundred years. Those works needed to keep my land untamed were just finished and I was about to go when you spoke my name and thereby gained my attention.

“Even when I am not here, worship pleases me. Bring others to my temple. You will know where it is.

“Dig no more gems from the desert. They are mine.”

A set of certainties began to form in Uman’s mind. He knew the location of all the water-holes between the temple and Derkhan and the best routes between them… Then, he felt an absence and knew that Skrald Iden was gone. It was only a short way to the first water-hole. He filled his canteen and took a long, refreshing drink. “I don’t have to dig any more gems,” he muttered as he returned to the temple. Carefully dislodging small block of the green stone from the temple, he said, “An adventurer has to take what fortune gives him.”

For four days, he was sustained by his dreams of the wealth that the temple would bring him. He worked his way through the wilderness of stone and sand, going from water-hole to water-hole until he came to the caravan track that lead to Derkhan-in-the-Desert.

Uman glared at his last date as if it were the fault of the fruit, somehow, that it was the last edible thing that he had. It did not make a satisfactory meal. After that, he went hungry.

A day and a half of trudging the dusty caravan route brought him to Derkhan. Uman entered the city by the Gate of the Setting Sun. He made his way past the blank facades of the homes of the wealthy, passing the small shops and hovels of the poor. He pulled his head-cloth tightly about his face. There seemed to be more flies in Derkhan than in all of the deserts round about. Once he found the market-place, he sought out a trafficker in gemstones.

“I have borne this across half of the Skrald Iden,” said Uman with pride, holding out the small block of translucent green stone. You will find it worth your while, I think.”

“You carried it that far?” asked the gem dealer, taking the stone. “Jade is indeed be worth my while,” he said, scratching the rock with the tip his dagger, “but this is only soapstone.”

In the back of his mind, Uman heard the sound of laughter like the sliding of dry gravel and sand.

-THE END-

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Dirkhan in the Desert

This completes In the Desert. If you enjoyed what you just read, please go to the Master Story Index for links to all of the stories that I have posted on Tumblr.

#IN THE DESERT #Dirkhan in the Desert #Written by De Writer

12 notes · View notes

notalwaysthevillian · 5 years

Text

Shattering Stereotypes

Warnings: None? Let me know!

Pairings: Romantic Mox and Remile established, Romantic Logince to come

Word Count: ~1.5k

Thanks to @not-so-innocent-bi-sander for betaing this chapter for me!

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Read from the beginning

Chapter 8

Before Logan could blink, Homecoming week had arrived. He sat at the breakfast table, a little bleary eyed from sleep, picking at his eggs.

“Logan?” Thomas sat across from his son. “You okay?”

Logan bit his tongue, knowing that he had to come up with an excuse unrelated to Roman. “I’m fine. I’m just...debating whether or not I want to dress up today. The theme is a bit ridiculous.”

“What is it?”

Rolling his eyes, Logan said, “Onesie day. Something about being comfortable during a movie marathon.”

“Don’t you own a onesie?” Thomas asked. Preston walked into the room, kissing Thomas on the cheek. Thomas gave him a smile before continuing. “In fact, wasn’t it a gift from the two of us?”

Blood rushed to Logan’s cheeks. “Yes, but...it’s not proper attire for school.”

“It is this week. And besides, don’t you get points for dressing up? The more people that dress up, the more likely your chance of being the winning class at the pep rally, right?”

Appealing to Logan’s competitive streak won out. He shoveled the rest of his food into his mouth before racing up the stairs to get dressed. The points had completely slipped his mind, and he’d be damned if he didn’t help his class win.

It only took a few moments for him to slip on the onesie. The hood was left off, knowing that some teachers would still consider it a “hat” and make him take it off anyway.

“Lo? Ready to go?” Thomas called out, before laughing at his rhyme.

Grabbing his backpack, Logan headed down the stairs and to the car. The short drive to the school was relatively silent, filled only with the various pop songs taking over the radio.

Logan’s nerves buzzed as they pulled up to the school. It would be humiliating if he’d gotten the day wrong.

Shaking his head, he cleared those thoughts. His Google calendar was linked to the school calendar. It would be almost impossible for him to get the date wrong.

“Love you!” Thomas said as Logan got out of the car.

“Love you too.”

Walking quickly, Logan headed to Mx. Stokes’ class. Hardly anyone gave him a second glance, other than a few friendly kids who merely waved at him as they headed past.

As he walked into the classroom, he was slightly shocked to see Roman sitting at his desk, dressed in a lion onesie. From what he’d heard, the so-called popular kids usually didn’t participate in that kind of thing.

He supposed that was what he got for listening to rumors.

Roman’s face lit up in a blinding smile as his eyes landed on Logan. “I didn’t think you would be one to participate in this, nerd.”

It was strange how a nickname that had once filled him with rage was now endearing.

“I assumed you didn’t have a onesie in your fashion sense.”

Laughter bubbled out of Roman, the sound making Logan blush ever so slightly. Damn his stupid crush.

The bell rang and Mx. Stokes got out of their chair. They were wearing a Pikachu onesie.

“All right, let’s get you guys counted up. Freshman who are dressed up, please raise your hand. And only if you’re dressed up, I swear I’ll subtract points if you aren’t.”

The threat was an empty one, but it worked nonetheless. They quickly worked their way up the classes, nodding to Logan and Roman as they counted them.

“I do like your onesie though.” Roman whispered as Mx. Stokes continued counting. “Unicorns are awesome.”

“You like unicorns?”

Roman nodded. “If I had my way, I’d live in a fantasy world. Ideally, I’d be a prince and do the saving, but I wouldn’t mind being saved every once in a while.”

Logan couldn’t help but stare at that adorable shy smile on Roman’s face. His heart pounded in his chest, reminding him just how gay he was for this man.

“Alright, I know we’ve done quite a bit so far and the test is on Wednesday. So how about a review game?”

The whole class cheered as the familiar tune to Jeopardy filled the room.

As soon as lunch rolled around, Logan found himself at a table with Remy and Emile again. It was starting to become a regular thing.

“Ohhhh, your onesie is so cute!” Emile squealed as he spotted Logan. He then threw his hood up and gave a little twirl, showing off his Totoro onesie.

Remy wasn’t far behind him. The man’s eyes raked over Emile as he spun. And while Emile may have been oblivious, Logan was not. He shot Remy a look, making him flush pink.

“How come you’re not dressed up?” Logan asked as they began to eat.

Remy sipped on his drink before giving an answer. “I’m not really into the whole ‘dressing up’ thing.”

“But you love Halloween!” Emile protested. “How is this different?”

“He does have a point, Remy.” Logan sat up a little straighter. “Besides, the whole point of the dress up week is school pride. It’s meant to bring everyone together as a unit.”

“And it’s fun!”

Logan could see Remy’s walls crumbling down. It took a few more seconds of Logan’s staring and Emile’s puppy dog eyes before they broke completely.

“All right, fine. What’s tomorrow’s day?”

Grabbing his planner, Logan flipped it open. “It looks like tomorrow is Red Carpet day.”

Instantly, mischief filled Remy’s eyes. He flipped his sunglasses back down. “I can definitely work with that.”

“Don’t do something that’ll get you in trouble.”

Emile’s comment got a wounded look from Remy. “Trouble? Whatever do you mean?”

Remy’s mischievous idea came to light the next day, when he came to the lunch table wearing what could be called a little black dress, complete with fishnet tights and studded heels.

“How are you even walking in those?” Logan asked, somewhat impressed.

Remy winked at him. “Practice, babe-uh, Logan.”

“I can’t believe that you haven’t gotten detention for that yet.” Emile said as he sat down, dusting off his white suit. “And Lo, you look really handsome today!”

Logan tugged at his black bowtie, which went perfectly with his three-piece navy suit. “Thank you, Emile. Though you might want to tell Remy how nice he looks before he gets too jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!”

The next day, Logan couldn’t help but smile as Remy and Emile came to the table as a Ruby and Sapphire for Cartoon Day. Remy was much more subdued than normal, while Emile was more than ecstatic.

“You’re happy today.”

Emile nodded, bouncing up and down. “Remy asked me to Homecoming last night!”

As Emile babbled on about how Remy had done it, something to do with cartoons, Logan couldn’t help but smile.

If Remy could do it and Virgil could do it, why couldn’t he? Perhaps he could give Roman the note at the football game.

“That’s a great idea!” Emile said, an encouraging smile on his face.

Logan paled. “I-I said that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did. Though maybe you should do that around Roman, you’d probably ask him then.”

“Remy!”

“What, I’m just teasing him, babe.”

Emile’s face flushed at the nickname. “You should definitely ask him though. I heard him turning down Steve the other day.”

Logan relayed this information to Virgil in study hall, his thoughts not as positive as they once were. “Perhaps he wants to go alone.”

“He doesn’t. Trust me.” Virgil tugged on his sweater sleeves. “He might be loud and a little pretentious, but it’s all an act. On the inside, he’s insecure and he wants someone to talk to about the things he can’t.”

“How do you know this?”

Virgil gestured to himself. “This whole loner emo persona is the same thing.”

“Virgil -”

“It’s fine, I’ve got people now. I don’t...I don’t feel as lonely as I used to.” A smile wormed its way onto Virgil’s face. “It helps when your boyf- when your date threatens to fight you if you talk bad about yourself.”

Favorite character day was mostly uneventful, with Logan getting a lot of compliments on his stunning cosplay of Connor from Detroit: Become Human. Logan had really played up the whole robot persona, making Virgil crack up in study hall.

“Forgive me for asking, but which character is this?” Logan gestured to Virgil’s outfit.

“Oh, I’m JD.” Virgil said, flipping the collar of his coat. “It’s from Heathers, which is both a movie and a musical, so I get if you haven’t seen it. His character is actually terrible, but it fits my aesthetic. But I bet you Roman has seen it.”

Logan couldn’t have stopped his blush if he tried. “I’m not going to watch it just because Roman may or may not have seen it.”

“Sure.” Virgil teased, nudging Logan’s shoulder. “Did you figure out when you’re going to ask him?”

“I don’t know.”

Before Logan could panic, Virgil laid a hand on his arm. “Relax, Lo. You’ve got this. Maybe try after the pep rally tomorrow?”

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The bell rang, leaving Logan more nervous than ever.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #emile picani #ts sleep #remy sanders #romantic moxiety #romantic remile #shattering stereotypes

332 notes · View notes

loquaciousquark · 4 years

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E83 (Nov. 5, 2019)

A day late and many dollars short, but we’re here! Tonight’s preroll: minifigs & what I assume are tonight’s guests of Liam & Matt:

which is followed by lazy susan rotating the D&D minis from eldritch-foundry.com for the rest of the cast. Cute! Anyway, Dani is back and ready to rumble! Brian is briefly lambasted for only getting through mumblemumble questions last week, but it’s all smoothed over soon enough and we move right along.

Tonight’s announcements: Undeadwood finale is delayed one week due to some post-production tech issues. Should premiere Friday, Nov. 15. Brian marvels over Matt’s speech about God being just as feral as what he creates. Matt is also surprised. Marisha is apparently the living dice Snitch of both campaign 2 and Undeadwood - everyone wonders if it’s the seat, the chair, the floor, or some innate karmic sense Marisha herself creates. CR is also partnering with Operation Supply Drop for the month of November to support veterans. Matt announces (re-announces?) that they are partnering with Amazon to create a full second animated season, as well as two more episodes to the original season one. All backers will be able to still watch the full season one for free. Everyone is so excited & I’m excited for them. Good job, tiny D&D friend group. More details on the CR Kickstarter Updates page.

And now! Episode 83: Dark Bargains

CR Stats: Liam poured wine for 49 seconds. Brief sidebar as Liam expresses genuine nervousness being on the couch beside Matt; he normally talks behind his back on TM, since he’s not sure if Matt ever watches it, but now he has to watch what he says. Caleb’s smell has been mentioned 60 times. Matt acknowledges that he is clean and washed. [doubt] Nott’s death was the 60th knockout and 8th player death of C2. Half of those deaths were Frumpkin. Liam calls Frumpkin a magic fart with a weak wifi signal.

Our first question (23 minutes in, NOT THAT ANYONE’S COUNTING), reveals that Matt did design the HFB with some “big red buttons” for the characters to press, or want to press. He expected more group approval before some of them were pressed, though (the dreadnought). Liam wanted to clear all the corners of the Baldur’s Gate map.

Caleb fears Halas because he’s one of the most powerful mages ever, he fears the lab setup/experimentation angle, he still fears the siren song, and is scared of the grains of similarity he sees between the two of them.

Liam knows they’ve continually seen fun stuff come from shitty situations, but Caleb sees the story of the HFB as “you’re not welcome here; this is going to suck for YOU! You thought you were going to have fun here? Fuck you!”

Matt loves those climactic moments though, because he loves it when the dice tell the story. Liam loves that there was a day where Matt rolled terribly in Undeadwood and played it as being embarrassed to be around all these amazing people.

Matt enjoyed getting to dig into the backstory of his world. He’s had references to pre-divergence stuff before, and it was a big joy to give more context to some of the things the M9 have been encountering.

Liam: “[Caleb] is gambling big when he thinks there’s something of worth to gain.“ He’d heard of a long-vanished mage who was messing with time stuff, and thought there might be a chance this was him. Then, once they found the gem, he started feeling this might be the real chance he needed to start messing with the crazy stuff he wants to do with time.

The bound devil was a general temptation, but in hindsight he can see why Jester was drawn to him. Matt often builds scenarios and has no idea how they will react to them (and acknowledges that the M9 did not fully read the poem that would have given them more info here), and sometimes he’s right and sometimes he’s very wrong.

Caleb is very distrustful of other arcanists and always assesses their level of threat to the group. Liam does think Caleb has come a long way since the start of the campaign. “A lot is changing for him. He’s very reactive in a lot of ways. Whatever is laid out for him in the moment that he can take advantage of, or that he cares about...I don’t know. The Betrayer Gods coming back is so much more important, and I don’t know if it’s going to make him let go of that stuff. He has to re-evaluate. He has to. He’s like an addict who has a weak day.”

Brian comments that Caleb seems to be a clinic in self-forgiveness. He wants him to do well, but at the end of the day he wants him to forgive himself. He also points out that it’s possible to get addicted to grief, and he sees that in Caleb; he’s choosing to stay in that space, and we are watching what that does to a person. Brian feels that he forms an attachment to the grief because it is the only emotional connection he has to the family he lost.

Liam nods and says these are things he’s been thinking about for months and months. He does not and did not have the answers when he created the character, and is looking forward to seeing where he ends up. He is not railroading his character; he’s letting the other players affect his character so that Caleb can remain malleable.

Matt loves how it reflects how real people inform the lives and actions of their friends in real life.

Cosplay of the Week: @suchamantis on twitter for a Caleb/spellbook cosplay. It’s gorgeous work!

Brief derailment into Liam pulling a Bane out of his mug and Matt hypersensually smelling the winner’s dice vault. I don’t even know what’s happening.

Revivify in this campaign is being used as a CPR/AED type thing. If they fail, the DC goes up and a longer-form raise dead spell must be used out of combat.

It did occur to Liam that this is the second time his bestie has been killed by a treasure box. Would Caleb make the same sacrifice? Liam says in a spooky voice that nothing is as strong as the twin bond...but when Caleb goes into full-on survival mode where all emotions are pushed to the side, he doesn’t know what would happen. He knew he was with two very magical people who could work miracles and was focused on just getting her up the steps to them. Matt was sure everyone would figure it out and was shocked when no one checked it for traps.

The effect of the diamond on Nott being different from the diamond on Cad was flavor related to the Power Word Kill trap that was on the chest. He built the revivify around that imagery in the moment. A lot of Matt’s flavor text around spells is built around the moment, the characters themselves, their gods, etc. as much as possible.

Caleb is glad to find the signs of magic that may be able to return Nott to a halfling, but was way too concerned about the gem to think about anything else at that time.

Fanart of the Week: @acemasters4 on twitter for a beautiful pastel stylized portrait of Caduceus and mushrooms.

Ashley is almost here! Brian allllmost tells us how many days but refrains. COME BACK ASHLEY.

The Angel of Irons thread has been planned since the very beginning: everything with chains and hunger was planned. He pulled it together with Yasha when he realized they would mesh well. She had created her backstory, and as the campaign proceeded he was able to marry some threads together to make story points. Liam compliments Matt’s ability to weave character & world backstory together; specifically, the crystals in Caleb’s arms were Matt’s idea after Liam sent the first draft of his backstory to Matt. Liam loved it and ran with it.

Everyone is so excited that she is coming back and Matt won’t have to plan for her to be suddenly absent again.

In a moment that shakes my world, Matt is discovered to be wrong about what class of magic Cure Wounds is in 5e. The question is about how Halas’s comment on healing being necromantic is a throwback to older editions of D&D where CW was a necromancy spell, and Dani reveals to us all that in 5e it is now Invocation. Matt chooses to accept this as a deliberate throwback to older editions to emphasize that “man out of time” feel.

Chris Perkins apparently once described BWF’s personality as “Power Word Kill for someone’s joy.” He also apparently did MMA & figure skating, because why not.

Caleb’s reference to Jester suffering in the ruby was purely coincidental regarding her mother. He didn’t realize until it popped out of his mouth.

BWF talks about how he likes where the campaign is at. He has a weird gut feeling that something exciting is about to happen. “I’m finally invested in this campaign after 83 episodes.”

Everyone pauses to talk about how beautiful Matt’s hair is blowing in the wind. BWF tells a story about how based on how they were sitting in Undeadwood filming, Matt’s hair would blow ever-so-slightly in the A/C and people thought they did it on purpose.

Matt had a good time at Blizzcon! He was glad to see people gathering for the Hong Kong protests; he understands it’s a very complicated situation where the initial punishment was way too harsh and caused a ripple effect, but he was glad to see the space where the activism was welcomed in response.

Matt enjoyed cosplaying again for the first time in a long time, both at Blizzcon and as McCree for the Halloween episode. When he was buying adhesive a shop worker upsold him on an inferior product, which is why his beard started falling off during the show. Sad times, Matt. :(

And that’s all! Is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

74 notes · View notes

administer-distractions · 4 years

Text

Hey all! I’m selling some of my RT merch! I am currently in a difficult financial situation and am attempting to move out of my parents home as quickly as possible. Also within the next few weeks I’ll be adopting a little kitten and I need kitten supplies. So I’ve decided to part with some of my RT merch to try to kick start the process. With an exception, everything is 10 USD or under and most things are under $5. Most items are also exclusives from RT Boxes. I’ll ship to the US and Canada for free. 50% of proceeds will go towards getting me out of my current house and 50% will be going to my kitten. Feel free to message me with any questions and feel free to reblog! And you don’t have to be following me, but if you want to, I will be making kitten updates soon!

All items with the heart means they came from an exclusive RT Box!

Pyrrha Shirt: More of an off white cream color than the camera makes it appear. I’ll also send the bag it came in just because I think it’s a cool bag.

RWBY Pins: Never even opened them. In case it’s difficult to see, they’re the symbols for Team RWBY, Team JNPR, and the RWBY logo. They are also slightly smaller than normal pins.

Ruby Headphones: **Important to note! These headphones do not work. The jack is completely missing. However they might be a cool addition to a cosplay or something. It seems a waste to just throw them away.

Ruby Figure: Never opened box. *This item is priced as high as it is because that’s what I’m willing to part with it for. I still like it and wont sell it for less than marked.

RWBY Box Booklet: As well as pictured it has some other more boring things like RT adverts and a list of items that had come in the box. I can take a picture of those if you like but these pictures are what I think are of value.

Beowolf Print: Very light damage (small dents) on the print but otherwise fine condition. *This item is priced as high as it is because that’s what I’m willing to part with it for. I still like it and wont sell it for less than marked.

Yang Socks: For sale: Yang socks, never worn

Campbell Minifig: He’s gold.

Max Minifig: Some damage to the box but the figure is fine.

Woody Figure & Pins: The other pins from the set were damaged and Woody has some paint missing but still fine condition otherwise.

Reversable X-Ray and Vav Blanket: Was used for a while several years ago but has since been washed and unused. Also it softd

Reversable X-Ray and Vav Scarf: Was used a few times. Very warm. Also comes with the pins.

Stage 5 Beanie: Worn a few times.

Long Sleeve RT Shirt: Never worn.

RT Anniversary Shirt: Why are all my shirts different sizes? If I knew I’d tell you. Also never worn.

Joel Heyman Shirt: Cheaper because, while I’m not really in the fandom much I’m pretty sure Joel got cancelled at some point.

Enamel Pins: Some of them are out of the bags they came in, but none of them have ever been taken out of their holders.

Rocket Rooster Can: I’m pretty sure this is plastic. Definitely not a real can. Is empty.

Burnie Candle: Yes it’s based of the one short where Chris pitched a bunch of shitty ideas including the Burnie urinal cake. I don’t know if that’s what this smells like. It does smell clean though.

RT Cereal Sticker: I have nothing to say about this. It’s a sticker.

RTES Plate: It’s plastic.

RT Box Cards: On the back they have letters that list what came in the boxes. They’re not super exciting but they could make for cute decorations or something?

RT Cards: They also have a back side, feel free to message me if you want a picture of them. For the life of me I don’t think I’ve ever read what’s on the back of any of them.

Literally Just The Entire Winter 2018 Box: I haven’t taken anything out of this box. I forgot I even had it. I don’t want to list everything in case someone wants that Mystery Box experience. But if you are interested and you do want to know exactly what’s in it, feel free to message me and I’ll send pictures.

#rooster teeth #rt #rwby #apparently i never recieved any ah merch wtf

10 notes · View notes

realhankmccoy · 4 years

Text

Set the Ray to Pissed

Trigger Warning: A MAGA Fairy Tale

Some liberals become Donald J. Trump without even realising it. While most of our great country, from sea to shining sea, is still full of good people, there were two men -- just two -- out of tens of thousands who wanted to brawl. Who wanted to play Stalin. Who fooled themselves into ever thinking they might ever have the power to cancel 60% of the known universe, being that their deranged, cucked-out heads were so low IQ.

“Seek help! You’re very angry! Sad!” they reiterated. With online usernames like pedophileprince and za’liar, they clearly weren’t the brightest stars on the web. To think that they could Zuckerberg me and eliminate all sexuality from the universe! And their devious, evil method was cloned from this tweet:

Soon the White House was being flagged with notifications of sponging and notifications of plagiarism. Like Sauron’s Eye, DARPA was keeping a watch on everyone, and this act of plagiarism on behalf of za’liar and pedophileprince was so derivative that it had slowly been escalated up to the master of all apprentices. “Stop copying me,” shouted Our Great President, furious that that these two liberal queers were acting like the reduced, third grade version of himself. “You two are so snippy, such guttersnipes, and so full of infighting!”

Our Great President’s tweets and method of attack had been so inspiring to these losers. Did they truly think they could use the method Donald J. Trump pioneered to cancel everybody on the web they furiously wanted to squabble with? “Sad,” they said, about how “Angry” others were... all they had were very simple words. Yet the only anger that existed here was stemming from them. What a long laundry list of cancellations and belittlements these utterly powerless hacks had in mind! Something had to be done... BZZZZZT went the eye of Sauron, stemming from the roof of the White House. Our Great President had ripped off the solar panels Obama installed, much like The Great Communicator had disinstalled the ones Carter brought aboard. The ruby red ray was a far more better rooftop toy, and us MAGA fans knew it. “We’re all living in Mordor now!” our Great President screamed, laughing and pounding the table. Across the country, waves of decrepit, depressed, opiate-addicted, coddled, hypersensitive, half-assed liberal bodies were made great again. Our Great Leader’s time was very precious, and so the ray would only be worth firing up if it would be able to cure the mental disorder of liberalism from at least a few thousand bodies at once. And how much better these bodies would be when they were men’s bodies... real men’s... not some mushy, grey, liberalqueer, nonbinary, boringly ‘provocative’ slush. Nobody cared about the multiple genders of liberals... be a demisexual quarter-binary Wonder Woman cosplaying queer with a Black Panther backpack for all we care. We were just bored with it. Much of this boring ‘provocation’ only existed so that liberals wouldn’t have to look too deeply into why they were at a creative dead end -- a new ‘provocative’ or ‘revolutionary’ gender descriptor hadn’t been invented in the last four years, now! -- and liberals refused to look very deeply into their own souls to try to understand why, in American cities full of millions of other liberals, they can’t even make real connections with a boyfriend or a girlfriend... As for pedophileprince and za’liar, they even found a new love together. Sure, pedophileprince couldn’t stop beating off to his creepy pics of young males with long, flowing tresses, possessed by daddy, and whatever sick shit... and yeah, za’liar still had to grudgingly go to work every day. But at least it was man’s work for the first time in his life. At least he was finally getting laid and no longer pining for pale, youthful British soccer lads. For all us MAGA-hat wearing men wanted to ever do was make our fair country great again, and thanks to us, he had finally found happiness. “I really could use, uh, um, a sweet tea,” pedophileprince started to say. “Shut up, man, before I rape your ass,” za’lair resonded, embracing him, and laughed, hoping this beefy bliss would never end. And it never did, and they lived happily ever after:

#maga #trump2020 #transformation #gay #makeamericagreatagain

10 notes · View notes

tinykings · 5 years

Text

COSPLAYS!

Cosplays I’ve Done:

Audrey from Atlantis (yes I know she’s hispanic my white ass didn’t know back then...I don’t think I even realized she was hispanic at the time...it was 2011)

Nancy Drew (classic style)

Ariadne from Inception (cause I was one of Those girls)

Catwoman (casual cosplay, in college for Halloween or something)

Random Hogwarts Ravenclaw (for a nerd dance in college)

Lucy Pevensie from Prince Caspian (but actually in green, not red)

Dolores Abernathy in her cowgirl gear (Halloween! and now, RTX!)

Yang Xiao Long (verrrry casual)

Weiss Schnee (actually made a Myrtenaster for her)

Ruby Rose (actually made a Crescent Rose for her)

a janky ass Pyrrha Nikos

a janky ass Spooky Scary AU!Gavin

Veronica Sawyer from Heathers (i might be most proud of her...or Dolores)

Captain Renault from Casablanca

Alexander Hollenius from Deception (yas)

GTA!Elyse from Funhaus

Dolores Abernathy in her Western girl gear (for Halloween at school)

Tony Stark (Too Many Times to Count)

the White Witch from Narnia (shhhh it was for a show but it was a Goddamn effort and thus, cosplay...and one of my earliest!)

60s Princess Leia (which was fun even if no one recognized me)

an attempt at Jim Gordon before my gender-bending mother told me to take that fake mustache off :(

Cinder Fall (which was actually pretty awesome)

Cosplays I’m Doing Soon/Someday:

Ambassador Delenn in battle gear (from Babylon 5)

Weiss Schnee w/red scarf

casual Ruby in Weiss colors but Ruby leggings

Arya Stark (either modern or a reimagining of some type...might give her House Baratheon sigils mixed with House Stark because FUCK D&D)

fixing Captain Renault up

wearing Alexander Hollenius for Flame Con (hopefully. potentially. hopefully.)

getting a better Yang Xiao Long together, now wearing Blake colors too!

getting a MUCH better Pyrrha Nikos together

Oscar Pine!!!!! MUH BOY

Anastasia (a Dream cosplay)

Colin Firth in Kingsmen

CAPTAIN JOHN SHERIDAN

Peter Parker, maybe??? now that Tony is *CENSORED*...

...ooh Morgan Stark in her The Avenger armor (that’s the future i swear)

a Hobbit, probably Merry Brandybuck

the Jon Stewart who lives in a cabin with “Stephen Colbert” and under Stephen Colbert’s desk

Raven Branwen (i’ma scream)

new outfit!Cinder Fall

Penny Polendina (somedaaay)

Bones McCoy (cause how haven’t I done him yet????)

and I want to do Freddie’s Norman Maine from A Star Is Born someday but I have no idea How To. so any ideas, tell me! please.

1 note · View note

crashdevlin · 6 years

Text

Radius- Part Two of Two

Author’s Note: Catch up on Geometry here,

Summary: Y/n gets called in when Becky tricks the Winchesters into attending the first annual Supernatural Convention, where she officially meets Prophet Chuck and Fangirl Becky Rosen and gets herself into a bit of trouble.

Pairing(s): Dean x Reader (mention of past)

Word Count: 5709

Story Warnings: addiction, depression, attempted rape, over-the-top magical violence against guys who kinda deserved it,

"Hey, we've got prophet problems." Dean said, as soon as your phone beeped to say the line had connected.

"Hello to you, too, Winchester."

"Sam got a text from Chuck last night. You remember prophet Chuck? You flirted with him in the same future universe where Lucifer told you to stay with him."

You growled, feeling betrayed. "Cas told you?"

"Cas tells me everything. That's just the relationship we've got. Chuck said 'life-or-death'. Sam thought we might need some extra oomph. You wanna bamph to me, give us a hand?"

"Fine. Gimme a minute to grab a bag." You said, before shutting down your phone and reaching under your altar for a spell component bag. You tucked your Glock 26 into a holster under your left arm and put an extra magazine in your inside pocket. You tapped your wrist three times and circled the symbol there.

You appeared next to Dean as he stood glaring at Chuck. "You told us to come." Dean growled.

"Ah, no, I didn't." Chuck responded, throwing you a nervous look.

"Yeah, you did." Sam insisted. "You texted me. This address, life-or-death situation. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"I, I, I didn't send you that text."

"We drove all night! I called in..." Dean didn't finish.

"I'm sorry. I-I-I don't understand what could... oh, no."

"What?" Dean growled.

"Sam! You made it!!" A shrill voice squealed from the top of the stairs. A small blond woman in a teal sweater-vest ran down the stairs.

Sam seemed to search for the memory attached to the face. "Oh, uh, Becky, right?"

"Oh. You remembered." The woman said, enamored. "You've been thinking about me."

You scoffed as Sam looked around for help. "I..."

"It's okay. I can't get you out of my head, either." Becky finished.

"Becky, did you take my phone?" Chuck accused.

"I just borrowed it... from your pants."

"Becky."

"What? They're going to want to see it!"

"See what?" The brothers asked, simultaneously.

"Oh, my god! I love it when they talk at the same time!" Becky squealed.

You laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty great." You said, as a man walked out of the building to stand at the top of the steps.

"Hey, Chuck? Come on, pal. It's showtime."

Becky ran up the stairs, excitedly. Chuck turned to the Winchesters. "Guys. I'm sorry." He nodded vaguely. "For everything." He said before following Becky up the stairs. The hunters looked at each other before starting up the stairs, warily.

"Hey. Welcome to whatever shit-show this is, Christina." Sam said.

"I guess I just can't say 'no' to a Winchester... even when we're arguing. Speaking of... Dean?" The older Winchester turned to you at the top of the stairs. "I'm sorry. I should have just told you, but... it's hard, you know? Lucifer is a big player and even if that future was a construct of Zachariah's imagination... the angels have knowledge of events that haven't happened yet and it scared me. The thing with Croatoan, with Lucifer asking me to stay with him... I thought it'd be better to keep it to myself. Anyway... sorry."

Dean wrapped an arm around your shoulders and led you into the hotel. "We ready?"

"Sure." You said, pulling out of his arm and holding the door open for the boys.

As you all walked in, a large man wearing a brown leather jacket and a blue button up walked by them carrying a mug of beer. "Hahaha. Hey, Dean. Looking good."

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked the guy's back.

The man turned back around. "I'm Dean, too. Duh."

You smirked and followed the big guy. Chuck plus Becky plus Random Guy Cosplaying as Dean... that equals fan convention. "Hi." You said, sitting in a chair across from the guy. "Your costume is amazing. I mean, you might wanna try to weather that jacket a bit. Dean's had his since he was a teen and John had it for years before that, but the rest... Where'd you get the amulet?"

The guy looked down at the necklace and smiled. "Oh, there's this fan in Sweden, he makes 'em. Cost forty bucks, plus shipping, but..." He fiddled with the necklace. "It makes the costume. You... didn't cosplay?"

You looked down. "How do you know? Maybe I'm a random hunter. Or a witch."

The man's eyes widened. "Oh, yeah. In Malleus Maleficarium, the witches were just wearing civvies."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dean. I'm sure you'll try to kill me at some point." You said, standing.

"It hasn't started yet, so... my name's Demian."

"Christina." You said, offering your hand.

He took it with a smirk. "You know that there is a Christina that's a witch in the series."

"Oh, really? Shoot, you just handed me my cosplay, then."

"Yeah, I mean, she's never described. It's a one-off mention in Malleus, but, yeah, Christina the Witch."

"Well, all right. I will be Christina, the witch today." You said, dropping his hand. "I'll see you around, Demian-Dean."

You walked over to Sam and Dean, who were glaring at the little blond woman. "It's awesome! A Supernatural convention. The first ever."

"Come on, boys. Blend in. Act like you like your lives." You said, walking into the auditorium and taking a seat in a chair near the back.

***************************

You sat in the audience as Chuck answered questions about guns and Ruby and then someone asked, "Yeah, at the end of the last book, Dean goes to Hell. So, what happens next?"

"Oh. Well, there lies an announcement, actually. You're all going to find out." Chuck said, before looking nervously at Sam and Dean. "Uh, Thanks to a, a wealthy Scandinavian investor, we're going to start publishing again."

You flinched as the room erupted in cheers and screaming. You looked back at the boys, who looked like they were about to jump the stage and tear Chuck apart. You stood, stepping between them and putting a hand on each of their backs. "I have two words for you. Guardian Archangel." You said, before walking back into the hotel's foyer.

Sam followed you out into the open area. "Hey."

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Lucifer asked you to stay?" He whispered, pulling you a little away from the group.

You looked up at him, before sighing deeply. "This is why I didn't want to say anything about it, Sammy. This is..."

"Is that why you've been weird with me, lately?"

Your eyebrows scrunched together. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Is it because Lucifer was wearing me? Did he do something to you?"

"Sam, I don't wanna do this, especially here." You whispered, backing away.

"Yeah, right now might not be the best time, but... Christina, you've been awkward with me since you've been back. You... you used to call me 'sweetheart', you barely look at me, anymore. You put your hand on my back in there and that's the first time you've touched me since you've been back from the future. Unless you count when you sat in me while I was the Impala, which I don't." Your back hit the wall and you had nowhere else to go as Sam crowded you. "Christina, talk to me."

You stared at your feet, trying to ignore the proximity. "Sammy... Lucifer, he just... he-he told me some things, a-about you. I just thought it'd be better to... back away a little."

It was Sam's turn to scrunch his eyebrows together. "What'd he say?"

"I... Sam. Don't...." You practically begged him to leave it alone.

"Christina, what did he say about me?" Sam demanded.

"He said you've wanted to fuck me since back when you still thought I was a lesbian." You whispered, furiously. You didn't dare look at his face, your eyes closing tightly. "He said that me calling you 'Sweetheart' turned you on, and that when I breathed my power into you... You almost took me in that honeymoon suite, instead of Ruby."

Sam backed away, his hand going to the back of his neck to rub nervously. "That's..."

You opened your eyes and bit the inside of your lip. "It was better to just back away, try to forget it."

"Okay. Maybe... let's do that." Sam said, walking off toward Chuck and Becky. You watched from the corner as Dean and Sam growled at the prophet.

You moved to join them just in time to hear, "Uh, Becky. Would you excuse us for just a second?" from Chuck.

Becky nodded. "Uh-huh!" and Dean and Sam walked away to a door leading to a hallway. You didn't follow, flopping into the chair Chuck had vacated. "So... who are you?" Becky asked, her voice high pitched and annoying.

You pulled Chuck's drink off of the table and took a sip. It was cloyingly sweet. "Christina. Y/l/n. Merry meet, Becky Rosen." You said, before forcing more of the drink down your throat.

"Oh! Witch Christina, from Sioux Falls! Dean mentioned you in 'Malleus Maleficarum'. Sam said you were like Glinda of Oz, and then Dean spent a paragraph musing about a 'cold night in a Dodge Charger'."

Your eyes widened, having never considered that something like that might have ended up in one of Chuck's books. "Wow. That's... Oh my god!" You took another drink and hoped that the liquor in it would present itself soon. "How graphic were his musings?"

"It was pg-13, at best. I think the most graphic part was when he was wondering about how you got so good at, um, deep-throating."

"Wow. Oh, my god." You repeated.

"Yeah, Chuck didn't describe you, at all. I wasn't expecting a witch to be so pretty. It, uh, would've made me nervous to have you over in that corner with Sam, but I know you're a Dean girl."

You rubbed a hand across your face. "You know, most witches are pretty. Magic works better than makeup." You looked at Becky through Becky's own eyes.

You expected the blond fangirl to freak but she just scoffed, excitedly. "Oh, my god. That's so cool! Can you look like anybody?"

You shook the glamour away. "Anyone of a similar body type."

"What was Dean like in bed?" Becky asked the question like it was a completely normal thing to ask a woman she just met.

"Excuse me?"

"I write fanfiction and... I've always written Dean as an aggressive lover, 'push you into a wall and leave bruises' kinda guy. The perfect companion to Sam, who's just a giant Teddy bear. You think I characterized them right?"

You blinked at the blond for a few moments before taking another drink. "You know that this is my ex-boyfriend and his little brother you're asking about? And Dean in high school is not the same as Dean now."

"Well, how was he back then? I could do a high school au." You were saved by Chuck walking up, alone. Becky looked around him, trying to find Sam. "Where are they?"

"They ran off because the hunt started. I don't think they... uh, get it." Chuck answered, looking at his near-empty drink in your hand. Becky jumped up and ran for the door Chuck had come through, so he took her seat and picked up her abandoned drink. "I'm glad you're here, uh, can I talk to you about something important?"

"Shoot. This yellow thing is starting to kick in, so..."

"Uh, so... I've been writing, you know and... someone is gonna help get me published again. Starting from when Dean got pulled out of Hell... that's uh, 'Lazarus Rising', but..."

"Chuck, you're rambling."

Chuck took a deep breath. "Well, the second book is... the working title on it is 'Are you there, God' but, uh, it's about the Witnesses, so... you're a pretty prominently featured character. So, you're on the cover?" It came out like a question.

"Oh, man. Tell me that I'm just as unrecognizable as Fabio and Duke Nuke'em out there."

Chuck cringed. "I got with a better artist this time. And my... publisher insisted on some... aesthetic choices. I mean... Do you wanna just see it?" Chuck asked, reaching between your legs and pulling a folder out from under his chair. As soon as you leaned forward, he opened it. It was drawn in the same Harlequin Romance style that the covers of the other books had, but the face was undeniably yours. You were standing in Bobby's front yard with a shotgun. You leaned down to examine it, noticing that even the scars matched. The only problem is that you were dressed in all black, necklaces, rings and bracelets covered in pentacles and Gothic symbols.

"Chuck, this is... kinda offensive. I haven't been Goth since middle school when I was alone cause no one would talk to me after..." You faltered as you realized that none of that happened. You couldn't even say for certain whether you were alone in middle school.

"That's gotta be hard, never knowing what's real about your past." Chuck said, sympathetically.

"You know about that?" You asked, quietly.

"Yeah. I mean, I see a lot of stuff about people tangentially related to Sam and Dean. You and Cas... definitely saw that. And, you know... Dean was there, too."

"Thanks for never writing about the... the Tessellation." You whispered as someone walked up to the table to let Chuck know he was going to be needed on the stage soon.

"Yeah, that was just self-preservation, really. I have to keep as many fans as possible, you know, and if I write Dean as anything other than the hunter archetype... Well, you know."

"Yeah. I do."

Chuck looked around like he was trying to get up the courage to say something else. He cleared his throat. "So you went to the future too and... I saw something, in that alternate universe that Zachariah made... in the future?"

"Yeah?" You said, suspiciously.

"You and Lucifer? What was up with-" Chuck stopped as a knife was discreetly pressed against his thigh. "Hey, I-I'm not gonna mention it, I-I promise. Won't write about it, either."

"Chuck, this is the most important thing in my whole life, okay, that no one finds out that I stayed. If you ever tell, I will destroy you, archangel be damned."

"I swear." Chuck groaned. You put the knife back into its sheath and let out a heavy breath. "But, I mean... They can tell you're different. All of 'em. Are-are you just gonna keep hiding behind the Croatoan thing?"

"That's exactly what I'm gonna do." You took a drink of the yellow thing. "I haven't even met Lucifer here." You whispered back.

"And when you do?"

"Have you seen that?"

"No. But it's gotta happen."

"Why? Because fake Lucifer that Zachariah created said we knew each other? That doesn't mean anything."

"That fake Lucifer is the reason you know why you can beat the virus. He's the reason that... dark spot on your soul has grown."

"He's the reason my power has grown, too, so remember that, Chuck." The words came out slow, with no feeling.

"You feel guilty... don't you?" Chuck asked, leaning forward.

You blinked at him, then shook your head slowly. "I didn't mean to stay." You whispered. "And I didn't mean to... keep staying. I kept telling myself, 'I'll leave tomorrow' and then every tomorrow he'd come to me with something new. Things were bad there, but... they could be so good sometimes."

"And Lucifer? He was good?"

"He never hurt me. He just... made me better... or worse. I'm stronger now. I'm..."

"I think, maybe, stopping would be the best idea here, Christina. I mean... you were there for Sam's thing with the demon blood. You know how the magic thing can affect you. Maybe, you should back off, play analog again. Do you even realize that you've glamoured away your scars?"

You looked down at your cleavage, smooth skin greeting you. You sighed and stood. "I'll take it under advisement, Chuck. You fix that picture. Keep the jewelry and I won't complain about the clothes, but... Red lipstick, shades of brown for the eye shadow." You said, walking over to the bar.

"A bottle of beer, two whiskeys and a pint." You ordered. As Sam and Dean came to sit on each side of you, you slid the beer bottle to your right and one of the shots to your left. The guys nodded at you appreciatively and took the alcohol. You downed your shot and pulled the beer mug to your lips. "So, fake ghost hunt. How was that?"

"Shut up. Just... shut up." Dean growled.

"Right. Look... I'm gonna go." You said, standing.

"Go?" Sam asked, turning to you. There was a sadness in his eyes.

"Guys... this isn't a thing. I can understand you guys staying because... this is your life on the page, but... I'm a single paragraph in a book about you putting down witches. I'm cool to leave. I'll, uh..."

"How you planning to get back to Sioux Falls?" Dean asked, barely looking up from his shot glass, which was being refilled by the bartender.

"I'll scrounge up some wheels, don't worry about it."

Sam stood, a wall of muscle stopping you from heading for the door. "You should wait. You've been drinking. Be safe, wait out the buzz. If you still wanna go when you're sober, I'll help you get a car."

You couldn't help but be touched by the concern. From Sam, it was appealing. From Dean, it would've pissed you off. "Fine. I'm gonna go sit down,though. I don't wanna be at the bar when the Deans get back from the hunt, it's begging for sexual harassment." You angled around Sam for the chairs you'd been sitting with Demain at earlier. "Oh, and, uh... I don't need help getting a car. If needed, I could get any of these guys to give me their keys."

Sam smiled awkwardly before sitting back down. You sat in a chair and closed your eyes to rest them. I think, maybe, stopping would be the best idea here, Christina. flashed through your head. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling it around to hang over your left shoulder.

"Heya, sweetheart. Who're you supposed to be?" A Dean walked up and sat on the table in front of you.

You opened your eyes and looked at him. He was young, maybe early twenties, and attractive. You smiled at him, able to feel his apprehension. He was not used to being forward. It was almost sweet. "You read Malleus?"

"Yeah. It's one of my faves." He dropped the fake baritone gravel.

"Well, there's a paragraph where Dean thinks about a witch he knew in high school."

"Oh! Christina! Clever. She's never described, so you can take it wherever you want." The Dean geeked out. You nodded. "That's neat. Why... why the knife?"

You looked down at your hip. "Oh, well, because I talked to Edlund about the character. He gave me some spoilers. The knife works toward her character development."

"She's gonna be in the new books?"

"More than... Yeah, she's gonna get a real description and a personality more than 'Glinda of Sioux Falls'. She ended up friends with Bobby."

"So, you know Edlund, huh?"

"Never met him before today, so... Anyway... 'Dean', it was nice to see you." You said, standing.

He stood, too. "Sure you wanna walk? I've got an Impala in the parking lot that's been begging for some action. I mean, it's not a Dodge Charger, but..." The gravel was back in his voice.

"Oh, look at you! That leather must have imbued you with Dean's superhuman confidence." You smiled. "And you are cute, but I'm, like, a decade older than you. So... why don't you go track down that Ruby I saw earlier? She's closer to your age."

"Wait!" He whispered, desperately. "Look, you are the most amazingly beautiful woman here and... I don't want to... I'm here with my brother, okay, and he's my Sam, but... he bet me that I couldn't get a woman to come up to our room with me. I'm a virgin, okay, and I just want to prove that I can... you don't have to do anything with me, just... If I could get my brother to see me walking into my room with you, the most beautiful woman here, he'll never mess with me again."

You sighed, then nodded. "What's your name?"

"Mark."

"Y/n. Come on. Where's your room?"

*************************************

As soon as you walked into the room, a set of hands grabbed you and pulled you in further. One of those hands covered your mouth and the other held your right wrist. Mark shut the door and locked it, before turning and pulling your knife from its holster. "It's not very smart to follow a stranger into his hotel room." He said it like he was disappointed in you, but his smirk said otherwise. You kicked at him, pushing back against your unseen captor. Mark avoided the kicks, then moved his hand to your spell component pouch. He opened it, then scrunched his eyebrows together. "No cash. Thought these convention nerds were supposed to be flush." He said, tossing the pouch away.

Your captor pulled you away toward the bed, pushing you down and pushing your face into the mattress while your hands were secured behind your back. "Well, guess we oughta do something to make this worth our while."

You could feel your Glock digging into your side. You turned your head enough to speak and breath. "You need to let me go. I'll forget all about this and we can all walk away."

"Oh, girl... you aren't gonna be walking anywhere." The second man finally spoke up.

"I'm giving you an out here." You growled. "If you continue with this shit, I will be forced into doing something..." A fist collided with your cheekbone.

"Shut the fuck up."

You closed your eyes as a rag was pushed into your mouth. You lay on your side for a few minutes as the men whispered in the bathroom. The only thing you were able to hear was, 'just gonna roll her. If we fuck her, we'll have to kill her so she doesn't ID me.'

You focused on your hands as they whispered, twisting your wrists until you could get a finger on the rope. You pushed electricity into the rope, which ignited. You breathed out forcefully at the feel of fire against your skin. As soon as the rope was weak, you broke your wrists out and flipped over, grabbing your Glock and jumping to your feet in one movement. They turned to you, shocked as you held up your gun and pulled the rag out of your mouth with your off hand. "How did you-?" The Sam, an ugly guy with a bulbous nose, asked.

"I warned you. Tried to give you a chance to walk." You shook your head, slightly.

"You're not gonna kill us." Mark said, confidently.

You chuckled, clicking the safety back on and holstering it. "I am not. No... I'm gonna do something worse." You pointed at the blond. "Dýskamptos." He went stiff, only his eyes moving. They darted back and forth, panicked.

"What'd you do to him?" Mark asked, poking his partner in the arm.

"Can't have him interrupting us." You said, walking forward and putting your hand on his shoulder. He shouted as pain radiated down his arm. "Oh, no. Can't be screaming, Mark. Isychía." You wrapped your hand around his throat.

"You picked the wrong woman, Mark." You said, with a sad and angry smile. You chuckled a little as you pushed him to sit on the bed. "See, I have issues, Mark. I have anger that I can't get rid of. I have hidden it with whiskey and beer, I have hidden it by saving people and allowing myself to be on call to help whenever I'm needed, but sometimes, Mark... sometimes the monsters of this world aren't supernatural, sometimes they're rapist, murdering assholes who think they can get away with anything they want.

"The boys would want me to leave you alone. Let the cops do their job. But..." You smiled and ran a finger down his cheek. "I think I would rather just kill you, Mark. Too much time with Lucifer, I guess. He would never abide the... disrespect." The word exited your mouth like a growl. "Think I might just maim you, though. You don't know who I am, but... you will never forget me." You dug your nails into his cheek and scraped all across his face. You grabbed the jacket and pulled the leather down his arms.

"You don't deserve to wear this outfit. Dean would beat your ass into a little puddle. But he'd leave you whole, Mark. I can't do that." You pulled his eyelids up and looked into his blue eyes. "Énkavma." You said, a smile spreading across your lips as the vitreous fluid in his eyeballs started to boil. A rush ran through you as he tried to scream, his hands going to cover his eyes. A familiar tingling lightheadedness came over you as he fell over silently screaming. You turned to the ugly man, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Is it your turn, now?" You asked, singsong. You swayed a little as you stepped to the man. He screamed deep in his throat. You giggled, placing a hand on his left thigh. You looked up into his scared brown eyes and whispered, "You're gonna lose this leg. I'm cutting off the blood flow to it. Unless you can figure out how to get out of this spell before this blood loss causes permanent damage, you're gonna be a cripple."

You pulled away and smiled, politely. "A blind rapist and a one-legged thief. I don't think you'll last." You said, grabbing your spell components off of the dresser and picking up your knife. "You boys have a wonderful life." You said, walking out the door and securing it behind you with a 'Do Not Disturb' sign.

You twirled down the stairs, jumping the last three to the bottom. You watched as Dean ushered the actors and hotel associates into the auditorium. "Where have you been? Come on!" He shouted at you. You raised an eyebrow and followed him into the room. Dean and Sam poured salt in front of the doors.

"Real ghost?" You whispered.

Dean looked into your eyes. "Are you high? What magic could you have possibly needed?"

You shook your head and waited for them to talk. "Okay. New theory." Sam started.

"The legends about Leticia are ass-backwards, obviously."

"Yeah. So, all right, let's say those three orphans were playing cowboys and Indians." Sam continued.

"LARPing as cowboys and Indians."

"Whatever. And say, let's say they scalped Leticia's son and killed him."

"Mom catches 'em in the act, flips out, slices them and dices herself."

"If that's true, it means we've got three bloodthirsty brats in the building."

"Yeah, and Leticia was the only one keeping them under control."

"Smooth move on our part." Sam whispered back.

"Yeah, well, we gotta get back to the cemetery, torch the kids' bones."

"How? We're trapped." Sam said, causing your eyes to shoot to attention. "We don't even have our guns! The ghosts are running this joint and they're only scared of one thing."

"Exactly." Dean's eyes lit up as he turned to you.

"Okay, I'm lost here. We're trapped?" You asked.

"Yeah. Maybe you'd be caught up if you hadn't disappeared. Murderous kid ghosts. They're only scared of Leticia Gore. You can look like any chick." Dean explained.

"You want me to glamour myself to look like a dead woman?"

"Yeah, that too much to ask?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Dean, she's already been using magi-" Sam started.

"It's fine. I'll do it." You said as Dean turned to Demian.

"We wanna help." Demian said.

"Guys, no." Dean said shaking his head at Demian and his Sam.

"Why not?" The Sam said.

"Cause this isn't make-believe."

"Look, we know. We're not nuts. We're freakin' terrified." Demian said.

"Yeah, but if all these people are seriously in trouble, we gotta do something." The Sam whispered.

"Why?"

"Because... that's what Sam and Dean would do."

You walked to the door, pushing through it and carefully stepping over the salt. You walked to the bar, took a shot and looked at the picture of Leticia Gore. You ran your hand over your face and down your hair, down your shirt and your jeans, before turning around to look at Sam and Dean and the two cosplayers.

"How did she-" Demian started.

You turned to Sam and Dean, twirling slightly. "So, I talk to the kids, get them to open the doors, you guys make it out to the cemetery for a salt-n-burn. Pretty standard, right?"

"Standard? Are you-" The tall cosplayer stuttered.

"Yeah. I'll have your back with the... fire poker." Dean said, walking over to grab the iron poker. "You and me, y/n/n, library. They'll focus on the door." You nodded, walking toward the library you'd seen earlier. Dean pushed you into the wall just before the library. "This isn't the first magic you've done tonight. You are high right now. Can I trust you in there?"

"Of course, you can, Dean."

"You promised me. Magic as a tool, not a drug. I said I wouldn't hammer you about it anymore and you said you wouldn't get caught in this shit again. Tell me that you needed to use magic, that it wasn't just for fun." He whispered.

You closed your eyes and sighed. "One of these wannabes tried to rape me, Dean. I used magic to get out and away without having to shoot him." You opened your eyes and pulled away from the wall. "Magic as a tool, Winchester." You said, before walking into the library. "Boys?" You said, forcefully. "Boys?! Come here this instant." You looked around, no sign of them. "You come when I call you! You understand me?!"

"Miss Gore?" The boys suddenly appeared in front of you.

You made your face hard. "You boys have been very naughty. Now, you open the doors. Open the doors right now!" You demanded. The boys flickered backward, worried. "You're very naughty. You hear me? Naughty. Naughty, bad boys!"

Your head started to swim. You looked down at your arm and saw scars. "Dean." You said, weakly, knowing your glamour had failed. The boys glared at you as Dean rushed into the room, fire poker held high.

"Run." He ordered. You shook your head weakly, as the boys brandished their knives. "You're weak. You can't even hold your glamour right now and that's second nature. How can you help me? Get out of here!"

You scrambled to leave the room, but you turned and put your hand up. "Asfalís." You whispered. You slid down the wall outside the library, where Dean had pushed you. Your weak legs couldn't stand anymore.

Sam checked your pulse on his way into the room, but he pulled back when you blinked open your eyes. You nodded at the room and Sam ran to help Dean as you passed out.

************************************************

You woke to Dean putting you in the back of the Impala. "Ambulances are on the way. Had to get you out so that we wouldn't have to explain. You okay?"

You sat up and looked down, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. I fucked it up."

"Maybe you should step back from the magic again. I mean... I'm not sayin' stop, but... you could've been hurt in there, because we were relying on your magic and it failed. That can't happen again."

"It won't... I just... over-reached, is all."

"What'd you do to that guy? The one that you used your magic on?" Dean asked, quietly.

You shook your head. You couldn't tell him. You could never explain why you went so far. "It doesn't matter. It won't happen again. I promise." You whispered.

"Get some more rest, Y/n/n." You lay your head on your arm and closed your eyes.

*************************

"You okay?" Sam asked Dean, walking up to the Impala. You opened your eyes and sat up.

"Yeah, you know? I think I'm good."

"Well, you're not gonna believe it, but I got a lead on the Colt." Sam said.

"What?"

"Long story. I'll tell you on the way?" Sam said, grabbing the passenger door handle.

"What are we waiting for?" Dean said, getting in and turning over the engine. He looked at you in the rear view mirror. "How you doin'?"

"I'm embarrassed, but I've come down. So... the Colt?"

"Uh, yeah. Becky told me that Bela didn't give the Colt to Lilith. She gave the Colt to Lilith's right hand, a demon named-"

"Crowley has it?" You squeaked.

Sam turned in his seat to look at you. "How do you know about Crowley?"

You started to hyperventilate as Dean pulled over down the road from the hotel. "Crowley is the one that pulled her out of Hell."

"Well, then, he's... reasonable?" Sam asked.

"He's... a demon. He's King of the Crossroads. Spent centuries kissing Lilith's ass, doing her bidding. He's evil and horrible and..." You took a deep breath. "He's got the Colt. So, we have to find him."

"Yeah. You know him pretty well." Dean said, quietly. "Any idea where to start looking?"

You took another deep breath. "Any big important deal going down, he'll be there. Rich guys, politicians, anyone important selling their soul, he'll be the one to close the deal." You leaned forward. "You can get Cas to look around for him. It's a demon. Cas should be able to find him."

"Yeah, we're gonna take you home, first." Dean said.

"Yeah, you don't look so good." Sam supported.

You shook your head. "I have to deal with this, okay? I can't just sit at home while you walk right into the King of the Crossroads' lair. I know how to deal with him. Just... call Cas, have him look for Crowley. I need to rest." You said, closing your eyes and leaning against the car door.

Supernatural Tags- @letsby @mrswhozeewhatsis

#cassie writes stuff #spn #spn fanfic #reader-insert

28 notes · View notes

polandspringz · 5 years

Note

What cosplays r u planning on doing?

Oh boy there are a lot. I’ll start with my big ones:

Right now I am working on Natsume Takashi in his Houdzuki outfit from Natsume Yuujinchou, and I am hoping to have that done by April in time for Castlepoint Anime Convention. My original plans for AnimeNext were to do Chise’s “wedding” gown from the manga, but my plans have been spotty right now, so while I am working on it, I’m not going to stress over what my June cosplay is since I’ll have so much going on that month I might rewear something. My other big plan for this year is going to be Summer Rose. I was debating between remaking Weiss or starting to do Ruby, but then Summer appeared and I already own fabric for her so it makes my life easier.

As for cosplays I’ll be wearing this year/cosplays I have bought:

Eiji and RBC are my AnimeNext fallbacks, as they share the same bomber jacket pattern so I’ll be working on them around the same time. I bought Teresa’s uniform because not only is the anime one of my favorites, I legit choreographed a dance for the opening and I want to film it in cosplay. As for the character in the Yellow MV by Yoh Kamiyama, I already own the shoes and wig and most of the clothes, I just need that jacket and I’m set.

Lastly, my long term cosplans:

Mew Ichigo is a dream of mine. I tried making her at one point in time but wasn’t familiar with satin materials. Now that I am, I’ll probably speed through her. Ochako is actually for my friend Primal, I started her last year but got delayed a bit due to personal reasons, so I’ll be picking up work on the bodysuit soon. And Ralsei is something I started for fun, but I’ve got too much money invested in the making of this cosplay for me to bail now, so I have to finish it.

#ask poland #cosplans

1 note · View note

emospritelet · 6 years

Text

Empty Corridors - chapter 33

Penultimate chapter! These two dorks are about to get their HEA!

AO3 link

Gold was about as close to blissfully happy as he thought possible. Neal had come back into his life, was cautiously open to reforging their relationship, and had agreed to bring Emma and Henry with him to visit the following month. And he had Lacey, wonderful, beautiful Lacey, who made his skin hum and his heart swell and whose kisses were like fire. Just thinking about how his life had changed in the past year made him smile as he went over inventory in the shop. He remembered the lunch that the three of them had shared at Granny’s, and how he had sat back and watched as Neal and Lacey fell into the sort of easy banter that he had always found difficult. She was the opposite of him in so many ways, and he loved her for it. Enough that he was thinking of taking the next step in their relationship, if she was open to the idea.

The bell above the shop door jerked him out of his brief daydream, and when he saw the visitor, his good mood evaporated. Zelena Green strode up to the counter with a mouth that was twisted up tight, as though she had eaten something sour and was trying to avoid spitting it out in disgust. She tried to smile at him, and it made him want to take a step back.

“Mr Gold,” she said, in honeyed tones. “I’m so happy to have caught you alone.”

“Not for long,” he said. “Lacey went to purchase lunch for us, that’s all.”

“Then perhaps we should make the most of this time together,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you out to the farm to take a look at what I’ve done with the place. I think you’ll be interested. Mother said you were always a man who knows a good potential profit when he sees one.”

“The price you appear to want me to pay is rather too high, I’m afraid,” he said mildly, and she batted her eyelashes.

“I haven’t told you my offer yet,” she said, her voice low and sultry.

“You don’t need to,” he said. “Whatever issues you have with your mother are of no interest to me, but I suspect you’re trying to get one over on her. I couldn’t be less interested in facilitating that.”

Zelena frowned.

“I thought you might have got bored with the waitress by now,” she said. “Apparently not. No doubt she has some sort of appeal beyond the obvious, but I can’t see it.”

Gold sent her a thin smile.

“You don’t come into town much, do you Miss Green?”

“Well, the nightlife isn’t exactly stimulating, is it?” she said. “The only decent conversations I have are with you, after all.”

“Don’t ninety percent of our conversations consist of you asking me for some sort of physical intimacy and me awkwardly refusing?”

Zelena smiled. It made his flesh crawl.

“You’ll find that persistence is one of my traits.”

“Along with wilful blindness, it seems,” he drawled. “I was going to say that because you don’t come into town much, you won’t be aware that Lacey and I are living together. Very happily.”

Her mouth worked, her nostrils flaring a little, but that smile stayed on her face.

“I give it six months.”

“I don’t care,” he said dryly. “Now, was there something you wanted, other than to creep me out?”

Zelena rolled her eyes, but that awful smile finally slipped from her face, and she raised her chin, her eyes suddenly cold.

“I want to talk about the man spying on me,” she said. “I’m almost certain he’s working for you, and I want to know why.”

Gold let out a soft laugh.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” she said flatly. “Tall, dark-haired, dresses like he cosplays someone from a Victorian gothic novel?”

“Sounds - memorable,” he said. “Alas, I’m drawing a blank.”

“Hmm.” She looked unconvinced. “Well, should he ever happen to come into your shop, tell him that I’ve introduced some new security measures at my farm. Including arming my workers. It would be a terrible shame if one of them were to mistake him for a criminal and shoot him.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then whirled on her toes, stomping towards the door, and Gold let the thin smile he had kept up in the face of her threats fall away as she walked out. Shaking his head, he reached into his pocket for his phone, flipping it open to call Jefferson.

“No more surveillance at the farm,” he said, without announcing himself. “She’s onto you, and she’s pretty much threatened to have you shot if you keep it up.”

“Dammit!” Jefferson sounded frustrated. “I think I was almost there!”

“I’d rather you were eighty percent certain and alive than one hundred percent certain and dead,” said Gold. “I mean it. Pull out.”

“It’s always disappointing to hear you say that to me, Gold.”

Gold pinched the bridge of his nose. Hard.

“Is there ever gonna be a time when you don’t turn everything I say into an opportunity for inappropriate flirting?”

“Doubt it,” said Jefferson cheerfully. “Okay, I’ll call time on the spying thing. She’s good at concealing stuff, and everyone that works for her is disappointingly loyal, but the evidence I’ve collected should be enough for you to decide what you want to do.”

“Understood,” said Gold. “Come over at six after I close up, give me what you have, and I’ll pay you.”

“If you gave me what you have, I’d give you a discount.”

Gold let out a long-suffering sigh, secretly amused.

“One of these days I’ll let Lacey spank you,” he said sternly.

“Kinks are extra.”

“And on that note…”

Gold rolled his eyes, flipping the phone shut and cutting off Jefferson’s laughter.

The shop bell went again, and he looked up with a frown that cleared instantly as he saw it was Lacey. She stomped over to the counter with a grin on her face, holding up a large paper bag and a cardboard tray with two take-out coffees.

“Grilled cheese with onions and a slice of ham,” she said, with relish, making the bag rustle as she shook it. “Gimme some sugar and one of ‘em’s yours.”

He couldn’t help grinning at that, and leaned over the counter to kiss her. Lacey made a sound of enjoyment, her lips pulling at his.

“I should really hold out for more sugar,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“What would you have me do?” he asked softly, and she pursed her lips.

“Lock the door, take me in the back room and eat me out on the bench, maybe?”

His grin widened.

“After our actual lunch, perhaps.”

“It’s a date.”

She winked at him, walking through to the back room with a swing of her hips and a glint in her eye, and it felt as though his heart would burst with love for her. Soon. I have to ask her soon.

It was Lacey’s turn to make dinner that evening, and she was fretting over it as usual. She had started out feeling confident; steak with potato wedges was after all the first thing Gold had showed her how to cook, but preparing the potatoes had taken longer than she had estimated, and getting behind had made her panic. She was stressed and overheated by the time he got home, huffing stray curls out of her face as she measured oil for the mayonnaise. Gold took one look at her, told her to sit down, and poured her a glass of wine before taking over. Which only served to remind her how much she loved him. Not that a reminder was needed. Gold used the hand blender to make the mayonnaise, scraping it out into a jar and adding minced garlic before sticking a finger in to taste it. He sucked a blob of pale yellow from his fingertip, nodded, and set the jar on the table before turning to the steaks.

“Sorry,” said Lacey, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what happened there.”

“You know I don’t mind, right?” he said, grinning at her. “Just relax. Cooking shouldn’t be a chore.”

“I’ll get the hang of it one day,” she sighed.

“You already have,” he said gently. “You seem to think that I’m expecting everything to be perfect, when really all I want is to eat dinner with the woman I love.”

Love. It made her want to wriggle with pleasure in her seat. She wasn’t sure she would ever get used to hearing him say he loved her. She beamed at him, taking a drink and setting down her glass. Gold checked on the potato wedges, but closed the oven when it was obvious they were nowhere near done. He poured his own glass of wine and sat down opposite her.

“Neal called,” she said. “He suggested coming down next weekend with Emma and Henry. I said that would be okay. It is, right?”

Gold smiled broadly, and she wanted to kiss him.

“That’s perfect,” he said. “I can’t wait to see them.”

Her heart swelled at the dreamy look in his eyes, and she told herself to get a grip.

“How was your day?” she asked, and Gold sucked his teeth, as though he were pondering something.

“It was interesting,” he said eventually.

“In what way?”

He smiled somewhat enigmatically at that.

“Come for a walk with me tomorrow morning, and I’ll show you.”

Lacey had tried to get him to tell her what he meant, but Gold had insisted on being infuriating, and had refused to explain himself. It was therefore with no small amount of curiosity that she followed him up the hiking trail that she and Ruby usually ran on a Sunday morning. Gold set an easy pace, and the spring morning was pleasantly mild. Her eyes narrowed as they neared what she remembered as the turning to Yellowbrick Farm.

“What are we doing out here?” she asked. “That Green bitch decided to finally move out, or something?”

Gold grinned.

“Or something,” he confirmed.

He took her hand, gently pulling her with him, and she fell into step with him, walking along the trail. As the trees thinned a little she could see flashes of coloured light, and hear the flat, tinny sound of walkie-talkies. Curious, she quickened her pace a little, and broke out of the trees into a field, the farm clearly visible in front of her. It was swarming with people; men and women in bulletproof vests were sweeping the area, and numerous cars and vans were parked up, blocking any other vehicles from leaving. Lacey could clearly see some of the people striding back and forth around the greenhouses, guns out, DEA spelled out in large letters on their backs.

“The DEA?” she said, puzzled. “What’s going on here?”

Gold had put his hand on her arm, but she didn’t need his urging to stay close. She craned her neck at the shrill sound of a familiar voice, and clapped a hand to her mouth as Zelena was dragged out of the farmhouse in cuffs, screaming about her rights.

“I think we should leave now,” said Gold quietly, and Lacey nodded, letting him pull her back to the path in amongst the trees.

They walked for a moment in silence, and she chewed her lip, thinking over what she had just witnessed.

“So - she was dealing drugs?” she said eventually. “Big time, by the look of that reaction.”

“A meth lab, I believe,” he said calmly. “In a secret underground room beneath the greenhouses. Your reports of what you and Ruby saw on your run made me suspicious, so I set Jefferson on the case. She was remarkably cagey, and hid her tracks well. Just not well enough. The authorities appear to have received an anonymous tip-off.”

“Which had absolutely nothing to do with you, I’m sure,” she said dryly. “Wow. Gotta admire her nerve, setting up something like that in plain sight.”

“Always the best way to hide,” he said. “Still, I suspect we won’t be bothered by her presence again.”

“Can’t say I’m sorry,” she said, with a sniff. “Had to hold back from slapping her stupid face a few times when she practically threw herself at you.”

He grinned at that, drawing to a stop and pulling her close.

“As if I would ever look elsewhere when I have you,” he murmured, and she bit her lip, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Good to know,” she said. “Oh, and just so we’re clear, this is the weirdest date you’ve ever taken me on.”

“And here I thought you’d find it satisfying.”

“Not as satisfying as banging you against that tree,” she said, and he grinned.

“That could still happen,” he said, and Lacey snorted.

“With a bunch of DEA agents running around? I don’t think so.”

“Fair point.”

He was grinning, and she wanted to kiss him, but she pursed her lips as though she was thinking.

“I bet the orange jumpsuit’s really gonna clash with that hair of hers,” she said. “The thought of that’ll keep me smiling for months.”

Gold burst out laughing at that, and bent his head to kiss her.

As spring became summer and the woods around Storybrooke filled with green light and life and the chattering of birds, Lacey reflected that life, on the whole, didn’t suck. She was happy living with Gold: blissfully happy, if she was honest, and now that he was developing a relationship with his son he seemed happy too. A calmness had settled over him, a contentment that made her smile to see it. Neal had brought Emma and Henry to visit one weekend, and Gold’s face had lit up as he held his grandson for the first time. If Lacey had been the crying type that would definitely have set her off, and as it was she felt a strong urge to go into the kitchen to make tea and cut cake to hand around.

She liked Neal and Emma very much, and Henry was just adorable, and she was proud to have had some involvement in bringing them together with Gold, however small it might have been. Her own family situation was quite different; her father had left town, left in the night owing rent on the shop and leaving the house in such a state that Gold had to hire a cleaning team before he could relet it. Lacey had cried when she first heard that he had gone without so much as leaving a note, and Gold had held her close as she wept. Once she was done, however, she reflected that their relationship had ended long before his leaving, and while it still hurt, she was able to find some sort of closure.

There was her own future to think about too, of course, and for once in her life she was actually planning ahead, now that she had a goal in mind. She had been saving money from her job with Gold in advance of going to college in September, and there was a flutter in her belly whenever she thought about it. Yeah, life definitely didn’t suck. Life was good.

Lacey sighed, glancing from the address on her phone and back up at the apartment building. This would be the sixth apartment she had visited that day, and her feet were hurting. The others had been terrible; either they were not as described by the agency, or the tenant she would share with was weird, or there had been some other issue that had made her want to bolt. Gold had taken one look through the door of the last one, issued a flat ‘No’, and steered her away. She hadn’t bothered to ask what the problem was. It was just one of those days.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” she said despondently, and Gold put his hand on her shoulder.

“This is the last one,” he said. “Let’s take a look, and then we’ll go for a drink, what do you say?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Lacey opened the door, making her way through the lobby to the elevator and pressing the button for the sixth floor. At least the place was clean and the elevator worked. Gold put an arm around her waist as it travelled upwards, and Lacey rested her head on his shoulder.

“I could still just buy an apartment, you know,” he said mildly.

“We’ve talked about this,” she said, and he sighed.

“Very well, we’ll do it your way,” he said. “I’m just saying, in the current climate I wouldn’t lose money. Probably turn a profit.”

“I want to do this myself,” she insisted, and sensed him roll his eyes.

“If this one smells like a makeshift drug lab I’m turning around and walking out,” he remarked, and she grinned.

“The agent said the other tenant’s a nurse,” she said. “I’m pretty sure she’s not running a crack den in her spare time. Not everyone has tenants like yours, you know.”

He grumbled at that, and Lacey grinned to herself as the elevator came to a stop. The apartment was number fourteen, and Lacey ran her eyes over the door before lifting her fist to knock. There was a scuffling noise behind it, a muffled Oops!, and then the lock rattled and the door opened to reveal a pretty woman with dark brown hair tied back from her face and a wide, somewhat anxious smile.

“Hey,” said Lacey. “You’re looking for a roommate? I’m Lacey.”

“Oh!” exclaimed the woman, almost hanging on the door. “Oh, yes! Come on in! I’m Astrid.”

She held open the door, and Lacey stepped into the apartment. It was small, but neat and clean, a leather couch and two chairs set around a coffee table and twin bookshelves stuffed with novels. A small kitchen area with a table and two chairs was off to the right, and a floor-length window looked out onto the street. She nodded approvingly.

“You’re a nurse, right?” she said. “Shift work?”

Astrid nodded.

“Yeah, it varies,” she said. “I’m quiet as a mouse, though, I promise. I'll try my best not to wake you.”

“Well, I’m gonna be studying at the university,” said Lacey. “Guess I could be pulling the odd all-nighter as well.”

“I could make you a snack when I get home, then,” suggested Astrid, beaming, and Lacey couldn’t help smiling back.

“Let me check the bedroom,” she said, and Astrid ducked in front of her, leading her along a short corridor to a door painted in purple.

“This is yours,” she said cheerfully, opening it up and stepping through.

Lacey followed, looking around appreciatively. The room was compact, with a queen bed, dresser and chair, and a white-painted door to the closet in the corner. Another floor-length window gave a view of the small park over the road, and the room was light and airy. She nodded to herself.

“The street’s pretty quiet,” said Astrid. “Occasionally the old couple three doors down argue, but most of the time they’re really sweet, and Mrs Costello makes really delicious cookies. She’ll try to feed you up, by the way; she thinks all girls are too thin these days.”

“How’s the landlord?” asked Gold, and she started, as though she had forgotten he was there. Lacey bit her lip in amusement.

“This is Connor, my - uh - partner,” she said, and Gold flicked an amused glance at her as Astrid’s eyes widened.

“Oh!” she said. “I didn’t think the advertisement asked for two tenants. It - it might be kind of snug in here…”

“Oh, it’s cool, he’s not moving in,” Lacey assured her. “He’s gonna stay in Maine and look after my cats while I’m here. I’ll go back at weekends.”

“Oh, you have cats?” exclaimed Astrid. “I wish I could have cats! The rental agreement doesn’t allow it.”

“Neither did mine,” said Lacey, winking at Gold. “I managed to sweet-talk the landlord.”

“Maybe you could try the same trick here,” suggested Astrid.

“I think not,” said Gold blandly, and Lacey giggled.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s see the bathroom.”

Half an hour later, Lacey and Gold made their way out of the apartment, shooting one another little grins. Astrid had insisted on making them tea, served up with the infamous Mrs Costello’s oatmeal raisin cookies, and had answered Gold’s questions about the landlord, the bills, and the damage deposit to his satisfaction. She had also answered Lacey’s about the other tenants, the laundry room, and the local amenities.

“She’s adorable,” said Lacey. “I think I should definitely move in, but I might die from the cuteness.”

“She certainly seems a glass half-full kind of person,” he remarked. “Do you want me to call the agency and secure the apartment?”

“I can do that,” she said, and nudged him. “Come on, let’s go get that drink you promised me.”

They walked down the street and across, heading for a bar that Gold had spied earlier. Lacey slid onto a stool, and he ordered them two whiskies, pushing a glass towards her as he took his own seat. She reached out to grasp his hand, a sudden burst of affection making her want to touch him, and he smiled at her, eyes crinkling.

“So,” he said. “It seems we’ve found your home from home for the next few years.”

“Looks like.” She took a sip of the whisky. “Kind of a weird feeling. Leaving Storybrooke. Going out into the world and actually seeing some of it, for a change. Actually makes me feel like an adult. A little scary, not gonna lie.”

Gold lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“You’ll be fine,” he said gently. “I have the utmost faith in you.”

“Glad one of us does.” She slipped from her seat, stepping in between his legs and twining her arms around his neck. “You’ll miss me though, right?”

“I’ll miss you terribly,” he confirmed, his grin widening. “As will the cats.”

Lacey sniffed.

“Please! They’ll probably barely notice I’m gone,” she said dismissively. “Just keep feeding ‘em and they’ll be fine.”

He reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking over her skin and making her shiver deliciously.

“They’ll miss you,” he repeated softly. “And so will I. I love you, Lacey.”

“I love you too.”

She kissed him, letting her body melt into his as his arms slid around her. Yes. Life was good. Life was great.

#fic: empty corridors #golden lace fic #rumbelle fic #my fic #golden lace #anti zelena

46 notes · View notes

chillisonic · 6 years

Text

knowing your partner well makes writing together a lot easier. tag this with people you enjoy roleplaying with, but want to get to know better. (or just wanna tag for the sake of tagging them in things or learning more about them.)

BASICS :

name: Ruby

age: 20

pronouns: She/her

zodiac sign : Gemini

taken or single: Single

THREE FACTS :

I’m an intense dog lover. I will do anything for them lmao

I cosplay and love going to conventions! Especially bigger/out of state ones!

As much as I love Sonic and Shadow, my ultimate favorite character is Tails. Though it’s pretty much a tie at this point lmao

EXPERIENCE :

platforms used: I mean as far as just...websites I’m on - pretty much every social media, though I’m not much of an artist, so I don’t post art anywhere. This is also my first time seriously roleplaying xD.

female or male: Either is fine!

least favourite face(s) : I’m not sure what this means

multi or single : As of right now, I only have one muse, I can’t see that changing anytime soon - but eventually I might make a Tails rp blog! Though it’s unlikely, I like sticking to one character^^

WRITING PREFERENCE :

fluff / angst / smut : I’m okay with all three, though until I get fully comfortable with my writing I don’t see myself posting smut on this blog, I prefer to do it in private. Though that could change!

plot / memes : I love both

TAGGED BY : I stole this from @unsmileysince2001

TAGGING : bE FREE

#[ooc]#[meme;mun]#listen dogs are just #too good for this world #i have a golden retriever #if you wanna know how to instantly be my friend #just talk about dogs

2 notes · View notes

lonelypond · 6 years

Text

Casual Lunacy, Ch. 44

Love Live, NicoMaki, 2.1K, 44/?

Summary: How is our favorite werewolf/redhead coping with a night at the theatre?

Tuesday’s Gray, Part 3

Intermission. A break. Outside. Away from Nozomi. Away from so many misleading sensations. Smells not matching voices, actions not matching emotions. All a muddle, and Nico at the heart of it, Nico and Kashima, magic and musk strengthening with every gasp or confident stride. Nozomi alert to Maki’s every twitch. Sensation overflow. Barely a moon buried under banks of clouds, barely a thrum, low levels of late evening noise. Weather was going to get bad, Maki could smell the wet, waiting snow. But she could breathe here, for a few minutes before she had to go back inside, to finish the full Fangs experience. Maki wanted this to be over, so over, so she could just go back to Nico’s place and…

Maki howled, softly, suddenly lonely and longing for a caress and Nico to lean into. But no, back inside, to watch Nico on stage, ruby eyed dynamite unleashing all that vitality, creating moments, catching the interest of anyone watching, like she did at the party, heartbeats raised, heads tilted, everyone’s eyes following Nico. Nico thrived on the attention, her delight coming through every sense. And Maki was happy for Nico, really she was, although suddenly waking from a new lovers haze to find herself so connected to someone so connected to so many others’ reactions was a shock. Then, as Maki was processing this new Nico, who wasn’t really a new Nico, just a Nico who had kept all her focus on Maki for too brief a while and was now renewing her contacts with the world, there was old Nico suddenly surging on the Lakefill, surprising Maki, leading Maki into that tiny control room and stripping away all the emotions, leaving them both breathless with the physicality, the fierceness of the bond between them. That had been…unsettling. And sexy, sensual, provocative, risky, raw. But Maki kept returning to how off balance she had felt as Nico bounced out of the room, blowing a kiss, heading to conquer the stage as confidently as she had just conquered Maki. And once again, Maki had found herself sliding, unsteady on breaking, drifting ice over emotional depths she was afraid to be tossed into.

Sister One, also known as Deidre, and Sister Two, Amira, were sitting in the green room, gossiping together, a few feet away from where Eli had settled at the mirror.. Eli had a decent working relationship with them, but they were senior theatre majors and Eli’s junior status and minor in dance meant they hadn’t interacted much before this show. Deidre and Amira knew everyone in the theatre department and had long been Kashima confidants.

“Can you believe Nico skipped the CosPlay party at Chapin last week?” Amira complained as she searched for her mascara.

“I know. She hasn’t had time for anything this quarter. First, it was this part, then work, then that redhead.” Deidre checked her hair in the mirror, redoing the tie holding it up and back.

“She’s in the audience tonight. I hear she’s a freshman. And loaded.”

Diedre sniggered, “Oh, is that why Nico is keeping her to herself.”

Amira quickly applied her mascara, “You know I’m really not going to mind if Nico gets mad at us and Kashima for this. She barely talks to me anymore anyway.”

“Kashima’s doing Nico a favor.” Deidre took a lipstick out of Amira’s bag.

“Exactly.” Eli found herself scooting her chair down as she brushed her hair, but when Amira caught her paying attention, the brunette nudged her companion, “Hey, Eli, what do you think about Nico? She’s BFF with your girlfriend.”

Eli was a bad liar but…Eli shrugged, “She could be nicer to Nozomi.”

“I know. Nico always wants it like “Nico Ni”” Deidre mocked Nico’s pose, “thinks it should be. Getting a part this big just made her ego even more inflated. She’s been nagging Kashima about her singing when what Kashima really needs support. Which is why Kashima comes to us.”

Amira nodded. “And we give her love.”

Eli watched her two fellow vamps smile mysteriously and wondered if just asking what was up would get her anywhere. Should Eli even care? Kashima wasn’t the problem. Surely Nico was up to handling intracast spats. She seemed to have Kashima pretty well heeled.

Eli decided to continue being a friendly vibration. “I’m just glad we don’t have solos. Kashima looks so pale before she sings.”

“She claims it’s on purpose, to add to the ‘King of the Un-dead’ effect,” Deidre sniggered, “But I know she’s just trying not to throw up.”

Someone’s phone pinged. There was a groan as a voice announced to the dressing rooms, “Bad snowstorm tonight. Hope we get out of here before it starts.”

“Yeah. Maybe we could get started soon….” another grumble, “I have a test tomorrow.”

Eli stood, “I’m going to find a stage manager and see what’s up.”

It was just so cute. But Nozomi had to not giggle because the first couple times she almost, Maki shot her glare full of neon threat. But there was Nico’s Big Bad Girlfriend, curled up in her seat, holding her backpack like a teddy bear, huge eyes watching the stage as Nico lived Mina’s fight against Dracula, whimpers and low growls escaping the tensed redhead. Nozomi swore she saw Maki bite into her bag when Mina was under hypnosis, describing what she saw through her bond with Dracula.

Fortunately, Maki knew when Nico set foot in the audience part of the theatre, otherwise she might have jumped when she felt the arms slide over her shoulders. But she did stiffen. Maki could tell Nico was surprised by that reaction, but Maki was about ready to run howling laps around the Lakefill to get the moody darkness of Fangs out of her head. She now knew what Nico meant when Nico complained about how screechy the music got, and how hard it was to keep that out of her nightmares...add musical cues to Kashima bending threateningly over a swooning, vulnerable Nico and Maki knew she would be the one having nightmares tonight.

“Hey, pretty girl, wasn’t Nico brilliant?” Nico kissed Maki’s cheek, throwing Maki right back to the chair, before the show, heart racing, suddenly as empty as the room...Maki shivered. “Whoa, are you cold, Maki?”

Before Nico could continue, Nozomi let out all the amusement she’d been keeping in for the past hour, with a booming laugh, “She’s TERRIFIED, Nico-chi. Almost bit her bag in half, didn’t ya, Maki?”

Nico glared at Nozomi, while Maki shoved her backpack a little away from her. Maki was at the end of the row of seats so Nico slid into her lap, fingers tangling in red silk before pulling her girlfriend in for an embrace as she whispered, “It’s no good if Nico’s not convincing on stage. But Kashima doesn’t even nip me, I swear.”

Nozomi continued to giggle, Maki was too embarrassed to look up and let her head drop to Nico’s shoulder, inhaling confident Nico masked in the fakery of makeup and the Kashima overlay. Olfactory thrall. No clear scent, no clear head…

Maki sat up, eyes catching Nico’s. “I’ll walk you home.”

“Isn’t it the other way around?” Nozomi leaned over to poke Nico.

Nico swatted at her and stood up, “Shut up, Nozomi. Come backstage with me, Maki, I have to change and grab my bag.”

Maki was restless. Nico wondered if it was having to sit still for two and a half hours while so much “happened” on stage. Or the aftermath of what happened before rehearsal. As sexy as it was to have Maki so frantic for Nico’s touch, there had been an odd mood, an unfamiliar expression on her lover’s face, one that Nico didn’t have a name for.

Nico slid her arm through Maki’s. The snow had started and the sky was layers of gray clouds, shedding wet, heavy flakes.

“So are you ready for opening night now?” Nico opted for a less pressing question, one that might encourage Maki to share any thoughts looping in her mind.

Maki shrugged, stopping to stare up at the sky and let a few snowflakes hit her in the face, “I suppose.” She grinned, “I won’t bite Kashima now that I know how it ends.”

Nico leaned in, “She’s really improved, thanks to you. You saved Nico.”

Another shrug, “You would have done fine. People know you’re…” Maki considered, translating wolf through partly human senses into human language was puzzling sometimes, but then she remembered one of Nico’s favorite claims, “a star.”

“So they respect Nico.” Nico bounced at the confirmation.

“Or fear you. Machiavelli got that right.”

“Who?” Nico asked.

“Dead Italian guy. Wrote books.”

“Another poet?”

Maki snorted, “Playwright. Actually philosopher. It was the Renaissance, people were a lot of things.”

“Triple threats. Like Nico.”

Italian philosophy seemed heavier than snow so Maki changed the subject to one sure to distract her lover, “But not as cute.”

“Aw, Maki loves Nico.” Nico nuzzled.

Maki’s noise of agreement was subdued enough that Nico suspected their pre show encounter was at the base of Maki’s odd mood.

“Did Nico leave Maki too…” Nico let the question trail off, not sure how to read the redhead’s mood.

Maki picked up her pace. Nico pulled her back, “Maki.”

Maki hung her head, expression shadowed by her hood, “We should get you home.”

“Us home.” Nico corrected. No response. “Maki, what’s going on?”

Maki collapsed into a crouch, and Nico reached out to touch her shoulder as the redhead muttered, “Don’t know.”

Nico crouched as well, “Tell me what you're thinking. Maybe I can help.”

Maki picked up some snow and started to form it into a ball, “Acting is weird.” She stood and threw the snowball at a streetlight.

“Is Nico weird?”

“No.” Maki shook her head as she shoved her now red hands in the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie, “You were actually pretty amazing. I was so worried for you even when I knew you were fine.”

“So why don’t you want to come home with me?” Nico stood, pulling Maki’s hood back far enough that she could see her eyes, which were full of swirling green and shadows. Nico knew there was something big that Maki wasn’t articulating, but Nico was almost certain that pushing the skittish redhead on the subject of their sex life’s debut performance in a semi public location would just lead to a howl and run. Careful phrasing. “We missed the cuddle part.”

Maki’s eyes glinted amethyst ice, “You didn’t miss it. You were on full thrill.”

“Did you?” Nico’s question was soft as they stood in a pool of light, disconnected and awkward.

“I don’t know. Maybe…” Maki turned, arms out, “I’ve just...it’s been…” Maki took a deep breath, “I’ve felt so many things, so many people, closing in all evening...that and the...I want… I need...to play...to hear...something that makes sense.”

Nico didn’t have a piano. Maki had had barely a moment to breathe since Nico took her hand and dragged her into the Wirtz Center. There hadn’t been any calms, just increasing tension, rising restlessness, the knowledge that something was going to break through, to rip out from under Maki’s skin, a howl or leap or a...storm. Maki swept a hand through some falling snow, wondering what this mood might manifest...she could hear the screechiness of the Fangs orchestra merge with the softer fall of a cello in snow and the quick hammering of her heart as Nico...Maki felt her fingers twitch, wanting to search out the notes that would transform this whole evening into meaning.

Nico watched Maki for a moment, as Maki stared off into the distance, unaware of anything other than whatever was going on in her head. She’d have to get used to that, Nico realized, but thoughtful Maki, thoughtful Maki was Depth and Beauty carved against the snow. Nico could certainly hold that image in her heart until playful, flirty Maki returned.

“Maki?” Nico’s touch on her arm was firm but when Maki looked down, Nico’s smile was warm, “You can head home. Nico can manage from here. It’s only a block.” Maki sniffed, uncertain. Nico was concerned, but calm, loving, detached. Some of the pressure lifted and Maki grabbed Nico, spinning the smaller woman off the ground, hugging her. Releasing Nico, with a howl, Maki sprinted off. Bemused, Nico shook her head, counting snowflakes for awhile as she watched Maki disappear into the gray. She was positive an affectionate Maki would remember to call or text at some point, but right now, Nico respected this mood she was on the outside of. Besides, she could use a good night’s sleep. It was already a hectic week.

A/N: Tuesday extended itself for more chapters than I expected, but Maki had some things to process before we could progress.Merry Wives is hectic as we approach going off book.Take care of yourself. And do something you love.

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Casual Lunacy #Love Live #werewolf #theatre #coffeeshop #college #Go U Northwestern #fanfic #etc #acting

8 notes · View notes