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#none of these shots are specifically identified as them but i did a good amount of detective work here
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Asia Kate Dillon as Lucifer in The Mysteries
#obviously including some of the fade in/out from prior/subsequent shots is a somewhat inelegant aesthetic effect#but i am simply prioritizing The Most Visual Info About Them / including maximum relevant frames lol#also capitalizing everything in the caption b/c i especially don't wanna deal with identical lowercase l and uppercase i#not that i don't think it could be parsed easily enough but i just want it more at a glance. with the warranted drama of a right angle.#none of these shots are specifically identified as them but i did a good amount of detective work here#plus naturally their neck tattoo is a giveaway. likewise arm tattoos ascertain their identity for other shots imo. and it looking like them#and the context of [that's probably lucifer & adam when such a scene is known to exist / there's a similar pic ft their profile]#so that i feel confident enough to go ''yeah that's the back of their head''#gif three has the least certain identifiers lol but looks like them; similar hair to other pics of lucifer; looks like they have the same#costume top as in gif one (with an extra layer); they're with/among the chorus of angels so between [lucifer is a prefallen angel] and why#that angel chorus would be standing around covering their ears while a member says some things theatrically...it's probably lucifer#asia kate dillon#the mysteries#lucifer mysteries#lucifer the mysteries#to potential differentiate from their other lucifer portrayal lmao#so anyways obviously i'm in love with lucifer (the mysteries) who can release that incredibly extensive 6 hr script
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keilemlucent · 4 years
Text
lavender latte: iv
(T (for now!))
hawks | takami keigo x reader
ao3
chapter 1   ||   chapter 2  ||  chapter 3  ||  chapter 5  ||
word count: 7.7k
sucks when things go south, huh. 
warnings: description of bodily injury, blood, mild? gore (it’s just describing injury), description of overstimulation, capital h and c hurt/comfort
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chapter 4 :’^) thank u for all of the love so far. i appreciate. every. single. one of. u. bottom of my lil rat heart.
this chapter was nearly split, but giving y’all a cliffhanger seemed mean  
this the turning point and set up for the rest of the story so buckle up and enjoy ;^)
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Things between you and Hawks didn’t change too much, not externally anyways. Both of you still continued to indulge your feelings, even if you desperately tried to ignore them. 
You continued to honestly spoil Hawks in lavish drinks of many sensations. Truthfully, you loved nothing more than seeing his face as he sipped at your new creations, watching the curiosity and pleasure spread over his features made your heart soar in your chest.
And Keigo continued to bask in your company. The drinks were always amazing, but the chatter and discourse between the two of you was what he loved most. Or, maybe it was his learning of you through watching your small gestures and cues. His analytical, interpersonal skills were, for once, being put to a use that didn’t involve espionage or deception.
It felt cleansing.
Despite these quietly greedy interactions, there was a great deal of repression between the two of you. Aimless flirting aside, squishing any growing feelings caused you both a great deal of strain. It worked, avoidance, for a while anyway. It wasn’t without consequences, but they wouldn’t get nasty until later.
 One of the most apparent tolls was Keigo’s physical state. Having to actively ignore and quash his feelings for you caused such a deep amount of emotional turmoil. It made him ache all over. This was in addition to an asinine amount of extra hours he was spending staking out the villain syndicate that was indeed in the neighborhood of the tea shop. 
(He wouldn’t admit it, but he was being overly diligent in scouting out the organization's doings. They were very close to you and your home, and the thought of you getting caught up in anything to do with his profession fucked him up on-premise alone.) 
The combination of both physical and mental exertion made him messier than ever. It physically clouded him a lot of the time. Exhaustion had well and truly seized nipping at his ankles and proceeded to fully rip a chunk from his skull.
Keigo had yet another long day, dawn until at least midnight, no matter his aching body.
He’d be listening in on out some sort of meeting between the villain syndicate and one of its allies, some more reclusive group of villains from the far-off mountains. Neither organization was particularly noteworthy, but they did have some nasty criminal connection that needed to be monitored. That meant a late night for Keigo and an even greater need for caffeine. 
He paid you a visit in the early morning. 
 The moment Hawks came through the door, you lit up, beaming from behind the counter.  
The shop was empty, just having opened a few minutes before he appeared. The only sounds were the hum coffee machines, quiet music, and the tapping of your own tinkerings. Normally, there’d be more bustle, but you were alone in the din of the shop. 
“Hey, angel,” He flashed you a winning smile, sliding down into his usual stool and propping his elbows on the counter. “Where’s the calvary?”
“Oh, the other openers?” You jerked your thumb to the door. “Running late. They all stayed up late working on a project for school, so I took one for the team and am manning the ship alone for this first bit.”
You sighed, looking quite tired yourself.
There was mutual recognition of your twin state, though it wasn’t verbally regarded in any way. 
Hawks was far better at hiding his poor health from you, but that didn’t stop you from seeing the pinholes in his facade. You’d gotten better at it with time. 
“What can I get you today, Hawks? Inspire me.” You set the glass on the counter between the two of you, gesturing to the expanse of the coffeeshop. “It’s just you and me today, so I can go all out.”
“You don’t already?” Hawks chuckled, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“I try,” You shrugged. “I really do my best work for you, whether you’re a glorified guinea pig or not. Gotta serve up the best for my best customer.”
On any normal, Hawks would’ve bantered right back at you, keeping you on your toes with quick words and wit.
That day?
He just laughed, something weirdly neutral, almost off-putting because you knew it was manufactured. 
You opened your mouth, brows furrowing. You wanted nothing more than to ask ‘hey, are you alright?’. 
But, that would’ve broken some of your own, mentally-imposed boundaries. It hurt, to just laugh with him, but it was all you would let yourself do. 
“So,” You broke the air with words as opposed to giggles. “What would you like?”
Hawks hummed, “Surprise me.”
“... Like, fully?”
Hawks nodded, slowly. 
 Keigo, in a movement of full vulnerability, (he told himself it would just be for a few minutes), laid his head on his folded arms, “Go wild, angel. I trust you. Make me anything you’re feeling. Wing it, no pun intended.”
 You blinked at him, nodding. His sudden, almost submissive action surprised you. Something in you ached, seeing him so worn down.
You channeled this feeling into a desire to make him top-tier drink. 
Reaching into your apron, you fished out your idea notebook. Many had been crossed off over the many weeks (months now?) that Hawks had been visiting the tea shop. You fairly consistently wrote down new ones, so there were always options, but on that day, none appealed to you.
Your gaze flickered back to Hawks, watching the soft movements of his breath through the tight fabric of the back of his shirt. 
You needed to make it extra good, help shake Hawks from his stupor. 
 You’re gonna wing it.
You’ll make a feel-good drink.
 It was your only self-imposed criteria. 
 You hadn’t ever made Hawks a drink without a concept and feeling beforehand, so the concept of not having one seemed novel.
You activated your quirk and began.
“How’s your day been?” Hawks called from behind you, words muffled.
 Keigo still didn’t look at you; resting on his arms allowed him a little bit of a reprieve before his grueling day. He’d take it. Hearing your voice would make it that much better.
 You described your day with a decent amount of detail for how much it hadn’t gotten started yet. Hamming up the detail meant more time for you to craft the drink. Your mind spun, grasping onto pre-existing, mental abstracts in your oddly calm headspace to create something tangible. 
Though your quirk was activated, you weren’t really identifying a feeling specifically, rather just letting your quirk draw from whatever material you had laying around in your brainscape at 6 AM on a weekday morning.
You pulled as many espresso shots as Hawks usually liked (maximum, five, you refused to give him more than that in a single drink), pouring them into some steamed oatmilk and several other ingredients you had mixed into a cup. You tapped some cinnamon on top of the foam, polishing everything off with a dash of sweet cream.
Carefully, you set it between the two of you. Hawks hadn’t spoken since you had begun to make the drink, so oddly silent. 
It almost made your skin itch, his lack of response. You reminded yourself with quick glances that Hawks was very obviously out of it and exhausted. You were sure that without the concealer he wore under his eyes (a secret he revealed to only you), he’d have purple circles punched from how overworked he was.
You hoped your drink would be enough to brighten up his day. 
You bit your lip as Hawks raised his head, blonde waves more unruly than normal. A small, lopsided smile stretched across his face as he sat up, grabbing the drink and bringing it closer. He had learned long ago to allow them to cool. 
 “Sorry for not being as peppy as I normally am!” It was almost imperceptible, the off-kilter tone in his voice. 
You caught it but said nothing. 
He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his head. “Been running on empty it seems, angel.”
“Then take some fuel, bird boy.” You nodded to the foamy drink. “When are you supposed to be done today?”
“Late, like late. Early morning, probably.” Hawks sighed, taking a sip.
...
As the liquid coated his mouth, Keigo’s mind seized.
 What.
What the fuck.
 Any and all thoughts he had disappeared. They were incinerated from his mind by the drink’s heat. 
A sun-scorching sensation like he’d never even known tore through his body. 
It was so different from the other ‘warm’-toned drinks you’d made him in the past. The flavor and feeling filling him up was nothing like the hearth-like drinks you had made prior. You had treated him to plenty of beverages that felt akin to open flame, warm blankets, a cat purring over your chest, a candle on a cold night—
But, nothing even close to this.
This was such a strong feeling that if he was a less trained man, his eyes would’ve rolled back in his head. If he’d been standing, he was sure his legs would’ve been visibly shaking, probably given out.
Sure, the feeling was abstract, not as concrete as your other drinks but it was ineffably strong. 
 It felt like the flutter you caused in his stomach, but somehow all over and inside of him.
It was the heat in his cheeks when he saw you, but reaching from his toes to the skin of his scalp. 
It was the shock in his throat when you smiled so honestly at him, now forcing his hands to twitch around the cup. 
The consuming sensation was all of that goodness and more, magnified and exponentially deeper and marvelously burning.
It was hot, fiery as it ripped through him, completely unignorable. But, it was also soft, colored with the earnestness that he admired about you so much—
Oh.
 It clicked as the sensation stirred in his stomach, fluttering to a point of near nausea. 
It was you. 
 The moment he realized it, that all of that sensation was you feeling, as you had made the drink, something began to broil in the apex of his chest, rolling and all-consuming.
His mind stalled as he took it all in, taking another sip. 
The feeling washed over him again, equally as wonderfully crushing.
“Soooo,” You drawled, setting a jar next to you on the counter, beaming him a smile. “What do you think? Gimme your judgment, bird boy.”
Keigo struggled to keep his face neutral as he quickly searched yours. 
Even in his state, it was clear that there was no deception or riddle laced into the creaminess of the drink. The expectancy in your face was derived from admiration, not waiting for the punchline of an unfinished joke.
 “It’s warm! Like, in your stomach.” Hawks looked down before taking another sip, the even smile on his face not wavering for even a moment. “What is it?”
“It’s a miel,” You tapped the jar next to you, pointing at the amber goo inside. “This is some wildflower honey from the owner’s sister’s farm, right outside the city. We have a bunch of extra stuff, so there’s no better time to make a honey-based drink.” 
Hawks eyed the steam, “What goes into a ‘miel’?”
Watching Hawks’ shoulder go slack with the next chug he took, you hummed, “It’s a latte, so espresso and milk, then it has the honey in it which is what makes it a ‘miel’. Topped it with some special sweet cream, a bit of cinnamon. My extra touches in it as well, just based on my quirk.”
Hawks met your gaze, his eyes softening with what you could’ve sworn was desperation, but was quickly swallowed up but stoicism, “And what was this drink’s inspiration?” 
You laughed, shoving your hands in your apron from the typical anxiety, though the feeling itself was somewhat normal and thereby dulled, “It didn’t have one! I just winged it, like you said. My quirk was activated though, so it was just sort of the concept of what I was perceiving and feeling, I suppose.” 
There was a pause as you waited for Hawks to speak. 
He didn’t.
 Keigo stared down at the drink, then you. 
Holy fuck.
This was ambient? 
The sensation that made his toes curl and every part of him yearn to reach out to touch you and give all of himself to you—
It was unintentional?
The feeling was familiar, one that he had organically all the time when thinking of you, being with you at the teashop. It was the one that he shoved down over and over again around you, yet craved more than anything.
And here you were, unknowingly returning it to him.
You hadn’t intended it to be shared and you had no idea you even did.
Keigo was one of the most perceptive people on the planet— he knew that many of the feelings between the two of you were mutual. As much flirting as there was, a lot of it was real from both of you. 
He just didn't think it ran this far deep.
(Mutually.)
 “What... What do you think it tastes like?” You asked, that nasty rot in your gut rearing itself as Hawk’s lack of response ate at you. You turned fully to him, actually taking him in.
 Keigo did what he was so skilled at doing—
Lying.
 Hawks waved his hands in front of him like he was trying to put out small flames, “Nothing bad! Promise, it’s really good! It tastes like how the coffee shop feels. Warm, comfortable. It makes sense that your quirk would reflect that.”
You breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good. I’m glad it's good.”
“Very good. I might have to put miels on my list of favorite drinks you’ve made me,” Hawks gave you a relaxed grin, standing and passing a wad of cash to you.
You didn’t expect him to be leaving so quickly, but he did say he was busy.
“Oh, hey, Hawks?” He perked up when you said his name, blinking at you. “I’ve got a project I’m working that I’m doing for the owner, so I’ll be here late. If you’re around, you’re welcome to come by after close if you want another drink? For your long night.”
Hawks softened for you like he so often had come to do. He fluffed up the collar of his jacket, wings ruffling up behind him, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I’ll have some ideas for you then too, how about that?”
 “Sounds lovely,” Your voice was like the honey of the drink, warm, sweet, and vibrant. “I’ll see you then, Hawks.”
“See you then, angel,” Hawks practically glowed as he walked from the door, the chime of the bell sounding with his exit. “I’ll text you when I’m close!”
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 Over the course of the day, an odd feeling grew in the pitch of your stomach. You did your best to ignore it. 
You alternated between serving customers and working on the ‘project’ the owner had saddled you with. Making centerpieces for his sister’s bridal shower was not something you should’ve been doing on company time, but they were giving you a handsome sum of cash under the table for it. 
You couldn’t complain too much, other than that it was laborious. Masons jars stuffed with wired lights and frosted glasses, tied with twine and ribbons were all to be prettily arranged by your hand. 
 During the middle of the day, you went back home, spending your time between shifts catching up on sleep and making some decent food.
The odd gnawing only grew in your stomach. 
 Keigo’s long day was wearing on, though somewhat uneventfully. Most of his patrolling time was the effortless thwarting of petty crime and easy rescuing. 
He even had the time to go back to his agency and snoop.
Because, for how lame his day was, the drink you made him (which he had greedily chugged all of shortly upon leaving the tea shop) caused him to think particularly hard about your quirk.
(As opposed to the asphyxiating awareness of your shared feelings.)
 He didn’t get it.
You’d managed to perfectly create a drink that communicated complex feelings. You’d told him in the past that it could be used for any sort of feeling as well, but you were so vague beyond that. You were abstract in the same way you quirk was.
So, he decided to abuse his power a little.
He decided to actually take a lunch at the agency, munching on takeout while clicking through the HPSC’s databases.
Civilian quirks, especially those that had never attempted to pursue any sort of career with them, weren’t documented incredibly well. Maybe a few details that were used in public research projects, but not much beyond that. He had hoped he could dig and find something that would assuage his curiosity and confusion.
He tapped your name into the HPSC’s hero-accessible database, scrolling and pulling up your file.
There was a picture of you, one from an ID that must’ve been a few years old. There were personal details Keigo wasn’t all that interested in, though it was neat to finally know your birthday. 
He clicked on the tab for your quirk.
  Quirk: Synesthetic Manifestation 
Description: Allows the user to materially manifest abstract, synesthetically-created feelings into reality. 
This quirk does not allow the user to alter reality, only tangibly create abstracts through the means at their disposal.  
Drawback: This quirk causes severe synesthetic overstimulation and appears to be activated unintentionally in instances that expose them to high amounts of stimuli. 
Quirk potential: 
 Keigo knew the concept of ‘quirk potential’ well. Most of the time, this portion on files was only filled out if the individual had ever trained to use their quirk in a profession.
Oddly, your’s contained a few details.
 The user showed high potential in initial assessments, but due to the nature of the quirk, its drawbacks, and its recorded usage, this user’s quirk is now classified as lowest potential.
 Keigo frowned.
All this just made him more confused. 
The file didn’t get into much more detail than you did. The only thing that was new information to him was that at some point you had tried to use your quirk in a training setting and that somehow got you demoted from high potential to lowest potential.
Keigo’s own quirk in the database was regarded as highest potential; you, at some point, were only a step down from him. Something knocked you down from pursuing quirk-based work, and based on your current employment at the tea shop, you never got up. Keigo figured it was the intricacies of your quirk that he didn’t fully understand.
He’d have to be a bit more careful getting any more information out of you, considering how much you disliked talking about it. 
Keigo continued to stew, finishing off his lunch while thoughts of you and your feelings danced across his mind. 
Though it was clear his adoration was obviously returned, it was much easier for him to muse over the nature of your quirk than the way he wanted to pull you over the teashop’s counter and kiss you breathless.
 You went back to work, a few chalky tablets of stomachache medicine in your tummy. They were all you could do to try and quell the twisting in your gut. 
 By the time you arrived back to start your ‘night shift’, it was late evening, the sun already having fallen into the horizon. 
Most of your time prior to closing was spent in the front, helping make drinks and clean up as you could. Part of you was actually excited to throw on some good music and grind after the tea shop was shut down for the night.
Also, seeing Hawks twice in the same day? Absolutely fantastic.
You wanted to try and make him a knockout drink, to make up for the lackluster one you’d prepared him earlier. Seeing his eyes get all gooey with happiness would more than push you through your night of work.
Your phone chimed a bit before close.
 [birdboy]: hey ;^) mind if I come by in like a half an hour?
[you]: yeah!! just call me and i’ll unlock the door for you
 Your closing coworkers giggled at you. They all knew that that big smile stretched across your face meant you were texting Hawks. You used to get a bit shy about it, but now you just gave them shit. He was your friend, right?
 [birdboy]: what if i like, hit the glass, like fly into it like birds do into windows
[you]: okay one- no, that would definitely shatter the windows and idk if i wanna deal with that AND you tonight ;^)
[you]: and TWO- are you speaking. from experience. about hitting windows.
[birdboy]: please dont @ me like this 
 You snorted. 
 [birdboy]: i had to pay off a tabloid who got it on camera bc it would ruin my brand
[you]: do u still have those photos
[birdboy]: ... maybe
[you]: hawks
[you]: gimme
[birdboy]: idk if i can my publicist will kill me
[you]: u hear what i hear?? a coward
[you]: how does ‘your brand’ feel about that
[birdboy]: ...
[birdboy]: gimme one of those honey sticks u have at the register and the pics are yours once i get there ;^)))
[you]: DEAL!!!
 You pocketed your phone in your apron, unable to stop the almost ridiculous smile that you wore.
Hawks made you uncomfortably happy. You knew that he didn’t feel the same, but he was still there. Even if you were just entertainment to him, you were happy to perform on any stage he was watching. 
As closing crept up, you shooed your other coworkers off. Most of the closing tasks were done, they could leave a few minutes early. 
As they began to pack up, chatting about some party that night, your insides twisted.
You squeezed the counter, rubbing your forehead while wishing your coworkers a good evening.
Weird.
 It was about then that things went to shit for both you and Hawks. 
 Keigo’s was supposed to be in for a hellishly long shift of surveillance based on the intel he’d received about the syndicate and its impending meeting. 
Apparently, that meeting was happening earlier, rather than later. 
The chaos started quickly, the meetup going from a strategic talk to an all-out fight between two groups. 
It spilled into the nearby streets, both sides unabashed in their destruction. 
 Perhaps, if Keigo had been faster (what a tall order, for the fastest man in all of Japan), things wouldn't have gotten so out of hand. 
But quickly, things erupted and the streets dissolved in mayhem as he dove and sent feathers flying.
 You stood by the front entrance, waiting for Hawks, idly sweeping. The cleaning tasks were almost done, the world outside was dark with the late evening.
You froze when the ground beneath your feet rumbled with revving engines, the air splitting with the sound of car horns and alarms. 
Everything that happened next moved so quickly, it was difficult to follow.
Windows began to shatter all across the street, near and far.
They cracked, spraying glass as a figure cloaked in black flew down the asphalt outside. A red barrage followed after it, nearly subduing it as it raced past the tea shop.
The massive glass panels at the front of the tea shop filled with frosty lines, just feet in front of you. 
It clicked for you a few moments too late.
Adrenaline shot through you, but it wasn’t enough. 
...
You weren’t Hawks, you weren’t fast enough to outrun much of anything, let alone quirk-shattered glass. 
You were just barely able to turn around before the spray of shards reached you. 
You would later be incredibly thankful that you wore denim jeans and a wool sweater that day. Without the thick fabrics, you were sure that you would’ve been shredded. The problem was your low-top shoes and thin socks.
Just as you turned, searing pain shot from the back of your left ankle. You urged yourself to forget the specifics, flesh-tearing, mind beginning to buzz. 
You just had to keep moving. 
Except, you couldn’t. Your left leg gave out with your next step.
You shrieked as you fell to the floor, barely catching yourself. Your palms smacked against the ground, pieces of sharpened glass driving into the flesh. 
You couldn’t help screaming, your voice mingling with the sound of alarms, cries for help, and the war cries of a nearby fight.
Oh.
You were in the middle of a fairly nasty villain attack.
...
So much for giving Hawks a better drink.
The mental joke seemed macabre, especially in your state.
 You willed with all of your might, for your quirk to not activate. Overstimulation was just inches away from your current state, the sounds outside the teashop boring through your skull like diamond drill bits. 
The pain that was radiating from your left leg was nearly unbearable, but you knew that getting out of the front room was imperative. 
How you managed to keep your injured leg straight, you’ll never know. 
You locked your jaw and pulled yourself along the floor, hoping that Hawks had this all under control. More people were bound to be hurt by the same sort of attack you got caught in, right? How many more folks had been sliced up like you? Worse than you?
 Keigo wasn’t having much trouble subduing the villains. They, of course, had no idea that he had been watching the syndicate for three-odd months. He knew their quirks, their tactics, their escape routes, everything. What he didn’t know as well was the other group’s specifics. 
From what he had understood before the fight, the two had somewhat friendly relations. Still, Keigo mentally kicked himself for not being more diligent in his gathering of intel. 
His mistakes aside, the much more pressing issue was the two-kilometer stretch of shops that were now collateral damage in what was essentially a mobile mob war. 
This damage included the tea shop.
When he’d flown past the shop, he’d only caught a glimpse of your face through the glass before it shattered.
You’d looked terrified.
Every part of him wanted to stop, dead in the air, rush in, and make sure you were okay, but he had to at least get things under control until more heroes showed up. Then, he’d be able to get to you. 
By the time Keigo subdued several villains of either group, more Pros had arrived on the scene. He sped off to the teashop far too quickly when he saw others gathering. It was an ill-advised move, but he was clouded by a different set of instincts than those cultivated in his hero training. 
The flight did allow him to fully take in the damage of the district, though.  
It was about as bad as it could be.
Whatever the villain’s quirk was must’ve shattered glass within a certain radius from his body, Keigo observed.
Thankfully, the villain’s quirk didn’t appear to affect anything past two stories of height, sparing all above it. Those panes and pieces that did shatter had sprayed businesses, restaurants, shops, and the street with shards of glass. Not to mention that they flew at the speed of projectiles.
(At the full-minded revelation that there was no way you weren’t hurt, Keigo felt his stomach flip and eyes burn.)
Keigo shuddered to think how bad the damage would’ve been if the encounter happened during broad daylight. 
 Keigo curled in his wings, dropping onto the floor at the front of the teashop through the broken window. 
He kept his expression somewhat neutral, though the scene before him tore at his heart in a way he wasn’t expecting.
The tea shop was destroyed.
The pretty, warm lighting fixtures had shattered, fine filaments exposed, and a few sparking. The glass jars on your wall of tea blends were broken, spilling leaves and dried herbs across the back counter. That wasn’t even to mention the layer of shards from all of the glassware stored around the coffee machines.
Seeing the destruction of one of the only places he had ever found real comfort in was awful, and it tore something hidden and vulnerable in his heart.
But far, far worse was the absolute horror that bloomed in his chest when he saw the sizeable spot of blood in the middle of the floor, smearing to the back doorway. 
“(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted, ignoring any stealthy elements and hurriedly following the trail.
“B-back here,” Oh, your voice was so weak. 
Keigo couldn’t make himself move fast enough.
 You’d managed to get yourself to the back, biting your lip so hard you were scared you’d break the skin. Part of you was lucid enough to know that making too much noise could be bad. Then again, the shop was supposed to be closed. Did anyone even know that you were there?
Hawks did.
You gripped at one of the edges of the stainless steel countertops, using all the strength you could muster to pull yourself upright. As careful as you were not to jostle your injured leg (that you still hadn’t looked at properly because you were terrified), the moment you bent it, you had to suppress a scream, turning it into a slow, nasty exhale. You let yourself sink to the floor again. 
Something was seriously fucked up.
 Then Hawks called your name. 
You were sprawled out on the floor, injured leg awkwardly turned and extended to prevent the pain from being made worse. 
The moment he saw you from the doorway, the remnants of his wings flapped, practically throwing him to the ground next to you.
The moment you saw him enter the back room, any and all fronts you had put on for yourself fell apart.
“H-Hawks,” You hated how small your voice sounded as you pushed yourself closer to him.
The details of him, how ruffled his remaining feathers were, how wide and scared his eyes were, how different he looked from the times you’d seen him on the news confidently saving the day, were lost on you. 
 Though, Keigo noticed your poor state easily. It was more obvious. 
He scanned your form with the trained precision he was known for. He took in the shattered piece of glass sticking from your leg, bleeding lightly. Your palms weren’t bloody, but they were dotted with shards of glass. 
He also noticed your panicked shaking and your unnaturally dilated pupils, beyond anything he’d seen while you’d made drinks for him. 
“Is your quirk active?” Keigo asked, pulling off his gloves and grabbing one of your wrists. He turned your palm, using two of his smallest feathers like tweezers to pick at the shards pieces of glass. 
“Y-yeah,” You replied, using the back of your other hand to wipe at your eyes. “It does this when I’m under extreme stress. I can’t turn it off.”
Keigo managed to laugh, relieved that the cuts in your hands weren’t that severe, “You just focus on me, okay, angel? That’s all you gotta do.”
 You nod, trying to hold your overstimulated mind back. It’s fruitless, truly, because the moment Hawks reminds you that he is, in fact, there, and that you are safe, you quirk-addled mind spasms. 
The awful mix of sensations whirled in your skull as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead into Hawks’ shoulder. In other circumstances, it would be a romantic gesture. But, the only purpose you had in the contact was hoping, praying, that the heat of his body would distract you from the swirling of sensations you couldn’t stop. 
In that mental soup, within the fear, intense pain, and loss, oddly enough, was the unignorable, pleasant feeling of being so close to him. It made your heart squeeze. But, it was a single spice of sensation in a foul-tasting stew though, and it was hard to isolate the good in the muck of your mind. 
You shook against him as sounds and pain blended inside your skull, thoughts becoming murkier and harder to understand.
 Keigo finished tweezing your other hand, that one worse off, and wrapping it in some gauze he had stuffed in his jacket.
His mind screamed for him to wrap you in his arms, to pull you close and keep you safe. It was all he could fathom doing, just nearly moving to do so—
That was until the popping rumble of a nearby explosion interrupted his thoughts.
You jumped against him, muffling a scream in his shoulder.
His heart ached.
 “(Y/N), I know this is all scary,” Hawks’s voice came through your sensational slurry. “But, I need to be back out there right now.”
“No.” Your mouth spewed with no discernable thoughts behind it. “Don’t leave. Please, don’t. Please.”
You caught Hawks’ wince, but barely. 
He was already repositioning you, scooting you under one of the countertops, “Angel, I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll be back. I promise.”
Your eyes screwed shut, vibrating in your skull as pulling your uninjured leg to your chest. 
Hawks looked equally as torn up about having to leave, brows creased with his lip worried between his teeth.  
Despite how messy your brain felt, you knew that you were beyond defenseless. Even if your mind could easily conjure up an infinite number of ways to bring a person non-lethal (and lethal) pain, you were turning to mush mentally and you had glass sticking out of your leg. You had no fucking way to create it with your body. 
Your back hit the wall under the counter and you managed to wrench your eyes open, taking in Hawks and his visage while you spun.
He looked so sad.
The feeling of mourning and fear spat so hotly in your mind, it was like you’d been intangibly burned by his expression. 
You choked on your own stored tears, reaching out for him.
He caught one of your hands, the wrapped one, and squeezed it lightly. 
Even with so few feathers left, Hawks plucked one, about the size of your forearm. He replaced his hand with the plumage. 
“(Y/N), I will be back. I promise,” Hawks (so weakly) smiled, trying to reassure you. “You snap that feather if anything changes, okay? If anyone comes into the shop who isn’t another pro, or if you start to feel faint. Do you understand?”
“Yeah.” You gritted out, somehow laughing. Your vocal cords rubbing together sends a wave of agony up the back of your neck, burying behind your eyes. You press your forehead in your bent knee. 
 With one last, fleeting look, eyeing your wound and remembering slate-colored eyes, Keigo took flight into the fray once more. 
Keigo hated leaving you. He hated it so fucking much. It burned him, felt wrong in every way. You were so vulnerable in your state. Both of you knew that without him there, you were entirely exposed and fairly defenseless.  
It perked up that protective instinct he’d repeatedly had towards you for months. It was probably something related to his avian mutation, but it was just blood-boiling need to keep you safe.
Yet, he just left you, wounded and mentally spiraling, in the middle of a destroyed building.
If he wasn’t trained so well, he would have acted differently. But, it had been burned into him time and time again what his needs were in disaster situations.
Neutralize, stabilize, clear out. 
Through his exhaustion, he fought and soared with all he had, fatigue forgotten and replaced by hot cortisol. He forced himself faster, zipping down alleyways and across rooftops at some of his top speeds. 
While Keigo tracked down all of the villains (he managed to miss the first time), he trusted that the other Pros could deal with the heavy collateral damage. He was number two, he could catch some organized criminals. 
Beyond his training, Keigo had an even bigger motivation. 
He could feel you.
The feather he left with you must’ve been pressed right up to your chest, maybe under your neck with the way Keigo could so intensely feel your breath and heartbeat. He could sense it gradually speeding up to the point of what had to be panic. If Keigo focused, he could make out your terror-stricken babbling.
“It’s okay.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“This is fine.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Hawks is okay.”
“He’ll come back.”
“He won’t leave.”
...
“Everything's gonna be okay.”
With that last one, your words gave out and it turned in gasping breaths. 
Keigo worked himself harder, striking down the last of villains with absolute precision, all distractions forgotten in the most pivotal moments of combat. 
The instant the villains were in custody, restrained, he was flying back towards the tea shop.
 You don’t remember any of this well. Your mind was liquified, your body throbbing in pain. 
It had been an incredibly long time, years since you’d been in any situation resembling a villain attack. There was no way to stop the synesthetic storm that was choking your mind. Every sensation was magnified, mixed with another, and shoved down your throat without any ability to change it.
A few minutes after Hawks left, giving you time to stew and roll, you spiraled more harshly.
When you realized how pitifully helpless you were, you fell away, pressing your wet face into the Hawks’s feather. Your vision muddled between black and red. 
You felt the cold of the blood wetting your pant leg.
Your wound is bad.
You hadn’t fully looked at it in awhile. 
Opening your eyes, you suppressed a wave of nausea at the small puddle of blood growing under the bottom half of your useless leg. 
The way the denim of your jeans stuck to your skin mixed with the smell heady smell of blood made you gag. 
You couldn’t keep it up anymore.
Letting your eyes shut, you sank down to the floor, cheek pressed into the dirty cement. 
You don’t know how long you idled, drowning in your mind’s colors and vibrantly violent sensations. 
You were only half-conscious when the feather pressed to your neck twitches.
 “(Y/N)!” Keigo shouted as he landed in the teashop, flying straight to the backroom, bypassing the mess of broken glass. 
His breath caught, seeing you slumped over.
“Fuck,” Keigo couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice as he noticed how much blood had pooled beneath your injured ankle. “Hey, hey, (Y/N)—”
He sure fucking sucked at admitting his faults, and recognizing the severity of wounds was indeed one of them. He didn’t usually stick around long enough to deal with casualties so closely. 
Keigo threw off his gloves, tossing them behind him without looking. 
“‘M fine,” You started to push yourself up, hissing at the pain that surged from cuts in your hands. “Brain’s mushy.”
“That all?” Thank god Hawks still managed to joke. The humor dashed across your vision like little sparks. You stifle a weak snort. 
 “There’s my angel.” Keigo was so relieved to see you conscious that he didn’t notice his own possessive slipup. “Are you lightheaded?”
Gingerly, he helped stabilize your body upright as you wrenched your eyes open.
“A little, it’s okay, this is what happens,” Your voice was so loud in your own skull, it hurt. Though, the pain of your words was only a prick in the wet dough of your overworked mind. Sensation was pain, rolling over you and making it harder and harder to stay lucid. 
 Keigo swallowed thickly at the sight of your fully-blackened irises. 
He needed to get you out as fast as possible, but that required assessing the gash in your leg. 
His gaze flickered to your ankle, “Can you move your toes?”
“I don’t want to.”
Keigo frowned, weakly, pushing you as upright as possible as you began to slip to the side. 
“Please, you have to try, okay?” Keigo begged, not noticing his own voice wobble. 
You shook your head, grabbing it in within its own motion. The dizziness made your insides knot and stick together. 
“(Y/N), please.”
You shifted your gaze to him, vision tilting as you did. 
The frown on your face split as you just barely moved your toes within your blood-soaked shoe.
The fresh pain, vibrant and boiling, cut through the fog like a heat-blackened knife. 
Your own fist flew into your mouth to mouth to suppress the cry that bubbled from your throat. You half-recognized it was the one holding Hawks’s feather. 
You couldn’t see the way Keigo flinched at the sound, immediatly trying to soothe the two of you. 
 “Alright, good, okay, you can still feel them,” Hawks managed to laugh, cutting into the miasma of your psyche. It was something light and airy, tasting like packet sugar on the sides of your tongue. 
Chasing the goodness of Hawks’s voice, you mustered up as much clarity as you could grasp, willing yourself into full sentences, “Hawks. I swear to fucking God, if you do not get me out of here right now, I will never make you a drink ever again.”
 Keigo blinked at you, nodding, watching your attempt to focus on him, though the fully inked irises seemed to refuse to stay put.
 So, this is what the file meant about the cost of your quirk. 
 “Don’t have to tell me twice, dove.” Hawks scooped you up before you could manage to put more thoughts together. A few of his feathers flew to stabilize your injured leg. 
His touch felt good, like incredibly good. Even as the crunch of his boots on the broken glass of the tea shop scratched at your inner ears and burned your sinuses, the heat and texture of his jacket caressed over your cheeks. His warmth tasted like honey and cream. 
Your head lolled onto his chest, idly playing with the filaments of his feathers that you refused to let go of. 
 (Keigo didn’t want you to, anyway.)
He couldn’t fly well, not in his mostly-featherless state, so he took to walking instead. He sidestepped as much glass he could, mostly watching your half-lidded eyes fixate on the feather you had pressed up to your face.
It was a weird circle, Keigo feeling your heat and breath so close, both on his body and on the sensitive plumage. Technically, he was doing his job, so he let himself indulge just the smallest bit in being so close to you. When Keigo squeezed you, nearly at the medic’s area, you tucked your face into his collarbones, breaths slowing from panic. You were even slack in his grip.
A paramedic rushed up to the two of you, guiding you to a setup stretcher and a waiting line of ambulances.
 “We can take it from here, Hawks, no need to stick around,” The paramedic’s voice cut through the air, dripping bitterness on your tonsils and iron nails in your lungs. 
Hawks set you half-down onto the lip of the vehicle, “Nah, it’s okay, I’ll hang out with them for a sec. They’re a friend of mine.”
He’d never said it before. That you were friends. 
Heat rushed up to your fingertips, sweetness washing over your wounded leg, topped off silken air settling around your ears. 
You’d drown in the sensation, a million times over.
 The paramedic ran off quickly, a man with a nasty head wound taking precedence over your leg (which seemed to have clotted somewhat with your somewhat more relaxed state). 
Hawks still didn’t leave.
Rather, he moved closer.
So did you.
 From your spot sitting on the edge of the ambulance, your injured leg was twisted and propped up while the other dangled off the edge of the vehicle.
Keigo was right up against the metal, allowing you to lean on his side.
“You good?” You asked him, bumping your leg into his lower back.
Keigo couldn’t help jumping. You’d never casually touched him. 
(He really liked it.)
Though the setting and circumstances were fucked, he figured it was okay. 
You were friends, right?
 Hawks wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing you into his side.
You took it a step further, wanting to simply soak in the amber, milky feeling of his touch. 
You squish your cheek low against his collarbone, drinking in the smell of his sweat, stale, spiced cologne, and rich, expensive smelling hair oil. 
The scents washed over your skin, rolling over your burning wounds like aloe and clean water.  
“Thank you.” Your voice is small and soft, kept gentle by your last sparks of lucidity. 
You heard Hawks chuckle, your vision swimming in honey and yellow with the sound, “Just doing my job, you know.”
“I mean, yeah,” You laughed too, pressing your nose harder into him. “But, it’s you, and I’m just glad you’re here.”
“You better stop being so sweet,” The hand around your shoulder rubbed slowly, up and down your spine, sweet spices and sugars dancing on the roof of your mouth. “Gonna give me ideas.”
The touch, something you craved and denied yourself, pushed you over the edge as his touch dissolved across your overstimulated mind in cresting waves of rushing, blessed heat. 
Finally succumbing to the flood of your quirk, drowning your mind in both agony and absolute calm, you muttered out the last clear thing you said that evening, “We always give each other ideas, silly.”
God, the many meanings behind your words spun and stuck in Keigo’s mind like the taste of the miel he drank that morning. They relentlessly clung to his psyche, wanting to know more. 
He stayed close while you were assessed and strapped into the ambulance. He sent a few of his last feathers to retrieve your jacket and purse from the wrecked shop.
All the while you clutched his bare hand, irises black while the whites turned bloodshot. 
As the ambulance drove off towards that public hospital, he could feel the steady beat of your heart through the crimson feather he made sure was tucked in your hand the moment he had to let it go.
He felt you squeeze it, and he wanted nothing more than to return the gesture a thousand times over.  
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mageofseven · 4 years
Text
The Demon Brothers when Discovering they’re in Love
Spoilers: Mentions the end of the first season of the game in Belphie’s. If you haven’t read that far yet, you’ve been warned.
Lucifer:
Feels rather torn when he comes to this realization.
On one hand, he feels that the object of his affection has become too much of a distraction.
The amount of times he finds himself spacing out while doing paperwork because thoughts of you plague his mind is truly appalling to him
But still, he gets lost in the care that you give him and finds your reliability refreshing.
All the nights he stayed up to get his work done and you came in with some coffee to help him along, sometimes unprompted; it’s like you just know when he needs a little boost. 
You even remember that he likes his coffee with a shot of poison. It’s truly the little things like that where he gets lost in your consideration.
Then there are the nights where even some small part of him realizes that pushed himself too far.
It would have been his fourth consecutive night without sleep if it weren’t for you.
“Luce?”
The man didn’t look up from his paperwork. Instead, he finished signing the document before switching papers and starting to skim through it.
“Thank you, MC. Just set it on the desk.” He said, assuming you had just brought him coffee as usual.
“I’m sorry.” You say as you step in. “That’s not it.”
The Avatar of Pride finally looked up and sighed as he saw your empty hands.
“Then what is it? I’m afraid I have neither the time nor energy to chat right now.”
“That’s the point, Lucifer.” You say, approaching his desk. “You need sleep.”
He scoffed at your words. “I can assure you that I am more than capable of doing my work without a few nights of rest.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you shouldn’t, Lucifer.” You lay your hand on his forearm. “I know you are capable, but still. Please, just sleep.”
He looked up into your eyes and sighed. They held no hint of deceit or trickery. He had grown so used to looking for such signs in people, most commonly in his brothers, but in this moment, he only saw genuine worry in those beautiful orbs.
When was the last time he had seen such? When was the last time someone had shown real concern for him?
The man couldn’t recall.
“Alright.” He relented. “I’ll put the papers away for now, but I expect you to head to bed as well. It’s nearing 3am.”
It was that night, as he laid in bed, that he tried to decipher the feelings within him, floating around in his chest.
When he realized it was love, the man could only shake his head at the thought. After all, he had no time for such feelings, he told himself.
But the more he dismissed them, the stronger they seemed to be within him.
The man even spaced out during a conversation with Diavolo one morning and was mortified with himself.
Obviously, Diavolo was more curious than upset though.
After some pressing from the prince, Lucifer sighed and explained the issue that plagued him.
I don’t think it would be possible for Lord Diavolo to have a bigger grin on his face than he did in that moment.
The prince congratulates his friend on finding someone that inspires such feelings within him and asks about when he’s gonna ask you out.
Lucifer waves away his friend’s words, but the thought stays with him throughout the day.
It would be a lie to say that he doesn’t want to date you, but the man’s pride has always told him that he doesn’t need such a relationship with others, most especially a human.
However, you were no ordinary human. To him, you were special; he could admit that much to himself.
When he finally does ask you out, he’s as calm and collected as he is with anything else
…except for the hint of a blush on his cheeks, seen by only the most observant of people.
This boy is not as in denial about his feelings as you might think.
Mammon:
Mammon recognizes his feelings for you fairly quickly and is pretty honest about it.
At least, he’s pretty honest with himself with the subject, just not with other people.
He knew he had feelings for you since day one. What he should do about them, however, was the questions.
Yeah, he spent a lot of time denying it to his brothers, but that was mostly because he didn’t want you to know until he got himself sorted out. 
That and he didn’t wanna risk his brothers ruining things for him. I mean yeah, he’s had some small crushes, but they never lasted long and none involved feelings this strong.
He just really, really didn’t want to fuck this up.
So he spent a long time keeping his feelings to himself; months easily passing.
Every time he saw you smile or when he heard you speak in defense of him with his brothers, he could feel his face go hot and chest tighten.
You really felt like his human when you did stuff like that. Still, no matter how many times he said it or felt it, it didn’t make it true; not officially at least.
One day, you both were hanging out in his room, studying together.
Well, you were studying. Mammon was just kinda half-assing it. He only agreed to this so he could spend more time with you after all.
Boy was getting all fidgety as he thought…maybe now was a good time to tell you?
You both were alone together, which made things easier. He definitely didn’t want to actually sit here and study either.
Not to mention, if he had to hide his feelings any longer, the poor boy felt as if he’d just burst.
“Oi, MC! I got something to say so you better listen up!”
Your eyes flickered up at him and then back down to your notes, searching for a specific section.
“I’m listening.” You say as you go back to skimming through the page.
Nervous boy looks away from you.
“So…the Great Mammon likes you, alright!” He told you, booming with fake confidence.
“I know.” You tell him, not even looking up from your notebook.
That’s…that’s it? You must not get it. His tone starts to falter.
“I…no! I don’t mean just like!” He leaned in closer to you. “I… I meant I love you!”
You lift your head and smile at him.
“I know.” You tell him before leaning in and kissing his cheek.
The Avatar of Greed’s brain starts to short circuit. Was it really that easy all along?
You laugh at how red his face gets and find it cute. You always had feelings for Mammon and honestly, as much as he tries to be otherwise, he is an open book. Not just you, but everyone knew he had feelings for you. It was just a question of when he would admit it and you had waited patiently for him.
Leviathan:
This boy struggles to even identify the feelings within him for the longest time.
When the feelings do form inside him, he starts becoming a lot more red in the face over the simplest things.
Blushy boy is overwhelmed by basically any compliment you give him.
“Holy–Levi, I was stuck on that level for past month!” You tell him, practically buzzing from excitement. “You’re amazing!”
Levi.exe has stopped working.
It’s not just what you say that makes his brain freeze up. It’s your sweet, excited tone, your smile. The fuzzy feeling in him that tells him he did good. All of it is too much for his brain.
Honestly thinks something is wrong with him when you fixed his tie for him one morning because it was messy and all he could think about for the next ten minutes was the fact that you touched him.
Wait, why did you fix his tie? He always wears it loose like that and you never commented on it before...
Otaku boy is very upset with himself right now.
Tries to avoid you for a while, but after a couple days of this, he heard you asking his brothers if you did something wrong and what you could do to apologize to him.
Poor boy felt bad that he was making you feel guilty when you didn’t even do anything wrong.
Invites you to watch anime with him so you can stop worrying.
He tries his best to act like his usual self with you and honestly, it was pretty easy with him getting so absorbed with the show.
At one point, he had to pause it to rant about something the protagonist just said. 
“I can’t believe it! They completely contradicted part of her character progression from season two! And have the gall to completely ignore that they did it!”
Boy was so annoyed until you stopped him. You pointed out a couple moments from mid-season three and one from season 4 that actually make the protagonist’s words very in character for them.
In the back of his mind, he’s really beating himself up for forgetting that one scene between Tsusaki and Momo
If it had been anyone else or if it was you, but at a different point in your friendship, he honestly would be livid to hear you make such a contradiction.
Levi has bonded with you for so long at this point though that he’s just impressed with your memory and character analysis ability.
I mean, he shouldn’t expect anything less from his Henry, but still, the boy is still loving this.
He’s found someone that not only enjoys the same nerdy stuff that he likes, but can actually have discussions about at the same level. You understand him just like you understand the anime on the screen and it’s characters.
At some point, he kinda got lost in his thoughts about you, checking out in favor of such thoughts instead of your words.
A smile slowly formed on his face as he thought about just how great it was that he found you. Or like, that you came to him, I guess.
He got so lost in all the good things about your friendship that he didn’t even realize at first when his thoughts were becoming words off his lips and had no time to censor himself.
“Man, this is great. This is why I love you.”
Silence.
Levi started panicking, realizing what he just said.
You sat in your seat, confused and a bit flustered.
After all, he interrupted you mid-sentence to blurt that out.
“Gaaah, I didn’t mean that!” He shouted. “Okay, maybe I did; I don’t really know, I just–aaaah I’m such a stupid, no-good–”
His words are stopped by your kiss. It only lasted for a second though because the boy quickly bounced back and covered his mouth with his hand.
You give a small chuckle at his reaction.
“Don’t worry so much.” You tell him. “I’m glad you told me.”
“H…Huh??”
“I…” You blush. “I actually have feelings for you too. I’m glad you said something first or I would have never been able to do… that.”
Levi is stuck wondering what the heck just happened, but as he starts to settle down, he decides he doesn’t really care; he likes how things have ended up.
Satan:
Is another brother that is not really good with his emotions.
Instead of panicking or getting overwhelmed with this new feeling inside of him though, he faces it with calm curiosity instead.
It’s hard for him to fully understand any emotion that is not anger, but he’s always trying to expand his knowledge on such things.
So when he starts noticing how small things you do cause his heart to race or a blush creep onto his cheeks, he’s not shying away; on the contrary, he seeks you out even more, wanting to spend time with you so he can analyze these feelings as they come.
He starts asking if you need some help studying more often since the answer is almost always yes. Study sessions with Satan are always very productive.
He starts lending books out to you even when you don’t ask. He brings you books that made him think of you as he read them, but doesn’t tell you that and presents them as a simple recommendation.
Always feels a sense of satisfaction when you accept them and come to his room later on to discuss them.
Starts reading more books on interactions between people to understand his seemingly strong awareness of you.
Like, why your finger tips brushing his when he hands you something or your shoulder touching his when you both read next to each other just sends an an almost electrifying feeling within him or when even the softest expressions on your face can make him smile.
Starts with mainly nonfiction books and slowly finds himself searching within the realm of fiction as well.
Despite what some people might think, he doesn’t really read fiction books much. When he does, it’s usually horror stories or the occasional sci-fi story (he finds how human picture the future to be fascinating, but also a bit silly).
He has very little experience with romance novels; he finds them to be pretty repetitive and predictable.
Still decides to read some since they do in fact focus on interactions between two people.
Finds that a lot of his experiences are mentioned in these books.
….he also finds his mind imagining similar situations with you.
This is…not the answer he thought he would get. ‘Love’.
So it was love that he felt for you? He honestly never gave any thought to loving someone in this way before. It simply was never a priority of his
But if that is truly what he is feeling…he wants to feel it to its full extent like the characters in his books.
Isn’t actually all that nervous when he decides to tell you. Like always, curiosity leads him through.
Not to say that he wouldn’t be hurt if you rejected him; merely that he wastes no energy worrying about such an outcome.
The day he decided tell you about this conclusion, you were sitting with him on his bed, backs against the wall, reading books.
He heard a little gasp to his right and glanced over to see you staring at your book, eyes wide, and whispering things to the page.
‘Oh my god’, ‘Why would you do that?’, and ‘Nonononononono’ were just some of the words you spoke into your book.
Satan chuckled, finding he scene to be cute.
You let out a groan, mildly annoyed with him.
“It’s not funny.” You whined. “He just walked away from her. Walked away! Right when she tried to kiss him! I can’t believe this!”
“Oh really?”
“Yes really! He–”
The blonde cut you off with a kiss, brief, but a bit fervent.
As soon he pulled away, you dropped your book and covered your red face. He quietly picked up your book and read the page that originally upset you.
“This is the same story I read yesterday.” He told you, hiding his own red cheeks within the pages. “The one that made me realize I wanted to kiss you.”
You lowered your hands and stared at the blonde, eyes wide.
“R-Really?”
“Yes.” He lowered the book to look you in your eyes. “Our protagonist may have failed you, but I’d like think that I just came through for you where he did not. Am I wrong?”
“N..No.” You mumbled, eyes darting away from him and to a stack of books. After a moment, you added. “C-Can you do that again?”
Satan chuckled softly and took his chin in his hand, guiding her face to look at him. He stared into your eyes for a minute with a teasing smile before doing just as he was asked.
The boy never actually said the words like he planned to, but it was obvious that his meaning got across to you.
Asmodeus:
As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo is no stranger to feelings.
He had so many crushes during his time in the Devildom that he probably couldn’t even count them all.
They were always simple feelings though, flights of fancy that came and went, holding no real long term significance to him.
Don’t get him wrong; he finds a lot of fun/cute/sexy/beautiful people that he enjoys spending time with, but he sees them all as just temporary beings, coming in and out of his life without a second thought.
It’s still new for him to develop strong feelings for a person to the point that he actually thinks 'I never want them to leave’.
But with you, he does just that. Doesn’t realize he feels that strongly for you till you actually leave though.
It wasn’t anything unpredictable; the school year had simply ended. Everyone knew it was coming, but Asmo gave it almost no thought till it was here. 
Your absence hit him harder than he let any of his brothers know. Still, he did he did usual activities; shopping, partying, spa days (though he noticed that he needed those more often than before).
He called you as often as he could. Would have probably spammed you with texts and calls if Lucifer hadn’t set a limit on all the brothers with when they can talk to you.
There really wasn’t an ‘Aha!’ moment for him discovering that he loved you. The question for him wasn’t if he loved you; it was more like how much he loved you that he questioned.
After dealing with your absence, he got his answer: a lot.
When you finally came back for another year at RAD, the boy was ecstatic. 
Immediately jumps into hugging you, giving you little kisses on the cheek, and coming up with different reasons to keep you close.
Really clingy, but in a cute way.
Boy drops the ‘love’ word on you like it’s nothing.
Absolutely adores your blushy face after.
Is nothing but smiles when you said it back to him and wasn’t worried about it all.
I mean it is him we are talking about so of course you love him back.
Beelzebub:
Is slightly slow with the realization, but not the slowest of the brothers.
There was kinda already signs floating around about his feelings before he even knew it.
The other brothers suspected it, but unlike with Mammon, they just kinda left the big boy to handle it on his own and didn’t tease him about it.
Though he’s commonly helping all his brothers out with one thing or another, without even realizing it, he started treating you with the same level of care he usually only gives to Belphie.
He shares his foods with you and is always checking on you to make sure you feel okay (physically and emotional). Sweet boy knows how stressful it can be in House of Lamentation with all the arguing and his brothers’ shenanigans so he tries to makes sure it doesn’t bring you down.
He even once carried you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch after school. He felt bad you were so worn out from the day and didn’t want you to wake up with a sore neck from sleeping wrong on the couch.
Then there was one day when he managed to make you laugh--not on purpose, mind you, and the poor boy is still confused about what he did to this day, but the sound of your laugh filled with his cheeks red and the sweet boy couldn’t help smiling at it.
But once the moment ended and your laugh was gone, all Beel could think about was wanting to hear it again. He really wished he knew what he did the first time so he could replicate it.
He started asking around with his brothers about the moment that made him feel so warm inside and why he couldn’t stop thinking about you or that moment. They all waved him off with small smiles, telling him that he’ll figure it out on his own. Except for one.
Asmo was way to excited to follow the other brothers’ lead.
“That’s because you love her, silly!” He grinned at the redhead. “Now! When are you asking them out? I’ve been waiting foreeever to give you dating advice!”
Cue Beel’s brain buffering. And buffering. And buffering.
Ding.
Wait..love?
The boy smiled a sweet smile and walked away from his brother mid-sentence.
He kept walking till he found you in your room working on homework.
You lifted you head and smiled at him, mid-greeting when he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You blinked in confusion, but hugged back.
“What’s this about?” You laugh from in his arms and the good boy loved the sound of it. In fact...
“I love you.” He said, smiling down at you.
It was a cute albeit random and unexpected moment for you, but also one of your favorite memories with him.
Belphegor:
Belphie was surprisingly quick with discovering his feelings for you.
He knew it was love, but tried pushing the feeling down inside of himself out of guilt.
Yes, you forgave him for using and killing you, but the boy hadn’t forgiven himself for doing it, which made his feelings for you just hurt him worse.
Sleepy boy tries his best to take care of you to make up for it, but feels like it’s not enough.
He’s always the first person to realize when you’re starting to stress out and pulls you to him for nap. Naps always help him take a break from stress and various other emotions that he doesn’t want to deal with and knew it’d probably help you too.
Nap buddy. That’s what you’d call him, causing him to blush and turn away from you.
With the poor boy feeling so complicated, it was actually you who confessed your feelings to him instead.
It was during one of your nap sessions, unsurprisingly. Belphie just stared at you, eyes wide in disbelief, before switching to a glare.
“You stupid--how can you say that after what I did to you?”
“Belphie...that’s in the past and you’re different now.” You tell him. “I love the person that lays next to me; he’s different than the man who killed me.”
Oh Lord Diavolo, the way your human mind works is so ridiculous to him.
Ends up rejecting you and finds a new place to take a nap. His anger quickly turns to sadness as he falls asleep.
Feels awful the next few days. He didn’t mean to hurt you; he just wants you to understand that he doesn’t deserve you after what happened.
Eventually approaches you to explain himself, hoping you’ll understand and let go of your feelings for him.
Instead, you launch into trying to reassure him that it’s not like that and regardless of what happened in the past, your feelings still stand.
He still thinks you’re idiot and tells you as much...but admits that he feels the same.
During the first two weeks of your relationship, the boy is surprisingly tense, but eventually accepts where you both have ended up and just lets himself enjoy it.
~
Masterlist
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mk-wizard · 4 years
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Proof that the Autobot Way is Flawed
Now, before I start exploring this Transformers theory, I want to make it clear that I do not think that Autobots are secretly evil. You can be part of a flawed system and be a good person. Heck, you can be part of a flawed system and even be aware of how flawed it is. Autobots have long since proven that they are good, well meaning people who want to keep their society clean and want to do good for the world, but it is NOT a perfect society. It has flaws that are glaring, feudal and in fact holding Autobots themselves back. And there are many instances which show that the Autobot way has flaws. Also, many of them are from Animated which I give honours to @auraturner for bringing up in her article here as many others did too. Here they are;
If you want to live in an Autobot society, you MUST identify as an Autobot yourself or you are not truly a part of the society and cannot live among Autobots. - Ever noticed that on Cybertron, EVERYONE identifies as an Autobot? And I recall in the G1 series, when Spike and Carly were given the ultimate honour among Autobots, what was this honour? Being called an Autobot. In other words, they were not true allies or equals up until that moment. While we would find being an Autobot cool as a kid, as adults, this feels off and kind of disturbing. Then there was the issue of Jetfire in G1. Why should he HAVE to be an Autobot to prove that he is good? He was good even when he identified as a Decepticon! He could have kept being a Decepticon and just fight alongside the good guys. What if a Decepticon wants to continue being a Decepticon, but just doesn’t agree with tyranny or Megatron’s way? What if a Decepticon was a good person, wasn’t even a fighter, had no criminal record and only wanted to live a quiet private life on Cybertron? Unless that Decepticon is willing to change their faction, the Autobots will deny them the right to live on Cybertron.
They have no trouble conscripting and imprisoning kids. - While we find it cute that Bumblebee is a young teenager, this implications here are actually very dark. What is a teenager that young doing in the army and going to war? Also, in the Animated series, Wasp was arrested and sent to the stockades and he was no older than Bumblebee. This is not ok. You do not give a kid and adult sentence.
Autobot society works almost like a hive mind or at least under the thumb of the Prime. - While Optimus and Rodimus were good and kind Primes who care deeply for others and allow personal freedoms, a large majority of the Primes were not like this. It is implied that Autobot society is a borderline communist society in which everyone plays a role to keep the system as it is forever and it is very rigid towards new ideas and such. This is why Megatron resorted to war in the first place. Nobody would listen to him. They listened to Optimus (as Orion Pax) in Prime, but the problem with this is that Megatron knows the problems better and knows the solution cannot be negotiated. Optimus doesn’t get that because he hasn’t walked in those shoes. Might I also add that the Autobots shot and used aggression first when Megatron start proposing change. That doesn’t look good. Moreover, you all have to believe in the same thing without question. Nobody is allowed free speech and speaking out against the Prime is considered as stepping out of line and if you question the Autobot way or point out that it has flaws, you will be accused of heresy.
While the Autobot faction came to be, their ancestors deleted a lot of the records. - This chilling fact is official in the actual Allspark Alminac. I don’t think I need to say much on this one. Anyone who throws away part of their own history is obviously hiding something.
Autobots have no respect for other factions or beings. - While the Autobots showing a lack of respect for the Earth or Decepticons is played off for laughs, such things are actually quite despicable. When Autobots mine for energon rather than produce it using alternative sources (like the Decepticons did in G1), it does a heck of a lot of damage to the planet. And you know what else does damage to Earth’s property and environment? The Autobot’s war and often at times their own clumsiness. I recall one episode in RID where the Autobots carelessly destroyed and entire golf course in seconds while duking it out amongst themselves and while this moment got passed off for comedy, I didn’t find it funny. It takes a lot of work to set up a golf course and even more to build a building, make a car and don’t get me started on how many injuries bystanders can endure. It is any wonder Prime’s Agent Fowler didn’t like them? I would be mad to if I gave amnesty to people who showed a lack of gratitude through a lack of respect for my home. Also, since the days of G1, the Autobots have mocked and objectified their prisoners either by taunting them or by taking pictures with them. Moreover, Autobots call Decepticons racist terms like “Con” or “Decepticreep”. I have never seen a Decepticon mock a captive except for Starscream and Megatron chastised him for it calling him childish and saying he shamed himself. Also, I have never ever heard the Decepticons call the Autobots a racist slur. Heck, Autobots including Optimus himself have used the term “Decepticon” as another word for “evil”. I also want to throw out there that Autobots do not take prisoners very often nor do they show a lot of mercy. Yes, Starscream is a sadist and a half, but the other Decepticons will not kick someone when they’re down or kill if they don’t have to. In fact, sometimes, their honour drives them not to. As for Autobots, they are not so nice and sometimes, even the noblest ones (including Optimus himself) have been known to take getting even too far.
They do not allow alt mode autonomy. - If you don’t know what that means, it means you are not allowed to choose an alt mode you want. It has to somehow relate to your job or the Autobot way. I know this is all fiction, but wouldn’t the right to choose which alt mode you want be a form of bodily autonomy? And how does your alt mode relate to your job especially when you can only do your job in robot mode? We see Autobots sneak this lack of letting a bot pick and choose the alt mode they really want even in Rescue Bots. When Blurr and Salvage join the team, he takes them to a hanger full of vehicles that are exclusively trucks or automobiles of some kind. In other words, everything four-wheeler. And even in Rescue Bots Academy, this sneaky tactic of guiding the bot’s hand towards a specific alt mode is still there. The bots play up how much the recruits admire them and almost all of them choose alt modes that are similar to their teachers. In the episode where Hotshot choose a fire truck, if Heatwave was a bigger bot, he would have encouraged Hotshot to stick with the rocket like he wanted to be because there’s a reason he wanted to be that and he already changes into a four wheeler of some kind. I think Autobots only allow dinosaur forms because they have proven to be useful, but if you compare the amount of diversity of alt modes among Autobots to that of Decepticon, it’s a night and day difference. I mean... they allow a warrior Decepticon to change into a CAMERA (REFLECTOR) and no one mocks or judges the guy. Now that I look at it, how many Autobots out there change into things that are not trucks or automobiles? Not many. In fact, even Blades wasn’t originally a flyer. It worries me to think what would have happened if a jet flew by in the air and Blurr requested to change into it as it is fast. Or if either he or Salvage didn’t like any of the trucks or automobiles.
They delete feelings and memories. - This is just creepy and the more I think about it, the more it frightens me. A society that considers amnesia acceptable as way of coping with trauma makes me think this society is very crooked and only looks at short term solutions. Not to mention, the concept of dealing with problems is by forgetting them is also telling. It makes me wonder if they apply this as a treatment for all trauma victims or anyone they consider as a heretic. And by any chance, do they use this as a means of ensuring that a former Decepticon becomes a proper Autobot? Holy cow, this is scaring me... And it’s making me wonder how many Autobots were actually once Decepticons, but even they themselves don’t even know it because their entire identities were deleted?
They don’t allow misfits and freaks. - The most disturbing aspect of all. All Autbots are physically perfect and none are beast types with the exception of the Dinobots who are also deemed openly as the exception. I also don’t notice many handicapped Autobots with the exception of Fixit who became handicapped after his accident. I highly doubt he would have gotten a job if he was handicapped from before and even currently, he is treated like an invalid even though he isn’t. They won’t even allow him to fight or inform him of his fighting capabilities even after discovering that he can hold his own. As for Decepticons, you will see tons who do not fit into some perfect mold or have ailments like having psychological issues or other handicaps, and most importantly, you’ll find diverse beast types. It is not for nothing that a large majority of the misfits of society rebelled against the Autobot way. The Autobot way outcasts the flawed and imperfect.
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WIP INTRO || WRETCHES AND KINGS Writeblr Masterlist
GENRE || Adult Urban Gothic POV || Third person omniscient STATUS || First draft completed, second draft in progress SETTING || Modern day THEMES/FEATURES || Modern mythology, criminal aesthetic, found family, immortality, death, revenge, grief cycle, moral crises, platonic soulmates
SYNOPSIS
An undeniable crime problem plagues the city of Easthold, an affluent city rife with thieves and bandits of all pedigrees. This in and of itself is not all that strange. What’s strange is the incredibly high volume of unsolved crimes, of acts no one has claimed, ones even the Easthold Police Department can’t even begin to find blame for. Even when committed in broad daylight, even when the police arrive on the scene in the middle of a heist, no one manages to catch more than unclear glimpses of the culprits, no bullets hit their marks, and when all is said and done there is somehow never any reliable evidence. No camera ever manages to catch a thing, no trap is ever successful, and never has a single witness managed a coherent report, like somehow none of them ever pay enough attention. Like somehow what they’ve seen can never be put into words.
Throw a stone in Easthold and you’ll hit a crook, from thugs to conmen to masked killers who all call the city home. They all know their place, yet somehow the balance of powers never really makes sense. Like something is missing. Like everyone is fighting to be the second best while the title of top dog remains empty. Not that the reluctance to take charge is all that surprising, considering the way any crew which starts to grow big enough to extend their hold over the city is cut down. Driven out or found murdered, often laying in the remains of what was clearly a vicious shootout, though the killers are never found. Like vigilantes, only not so altruistic; the spoils belonging to the defeated gangs are always taken, only to reappear at the scene of yet another unrelated crime.
There’s something deeply wrong in Easthold. Something strange and unsettling. Like a catastrophic event has knocked the whole city just slightly out of sync with the rest of the world. It’s in the way the EPD have cabinet upon cabinet of unsolved crimes that never manage to make their way into reports, years of unacceptably unpunished offences that would bring the might of a federal investigation if only they were disclosed. In the way a startling amount of those offences resemble crimes from days long past.
There are secrets in Easthold. Things no one knows, things everyone knows, and awful, impossible, inescapable reality they’ve all been trapped within. It’s in the way unease builds and dissipates without cresting, citizens never quite recognizing their own discomfort, never fully acknowledging the oddity of acting without reason, of crossing the street or averting their eyes, of taking the long way home simply because that one corner just didn’t feel right. In the way the city is beset by sudden explosions, the way gunfire rattles, the way streets echo with chilling laughter like the ghost of a memory, the phantom chill of a nightmare, the ceaseless loop of those who will not be laid to rest.
MAIN CAST
MARLENE WALCROFT || As the leader, Marlene has always has to present herself as reasonably level-headed, controlled outside the occasional snaps of frightful anger, a little overbearing in her need to dictate every plan maybe, but what criminal kingpin isn’t? What’s odd is the new fear kept behind closed doors, Marlene second guessing her own ideas to a degree that is wholly out of character, running over plans again and again, pulling them apart and looking for flaws, debriefing even after successful missions when everyone else just wants to celebrate, unconsciously pressing her hand to her heart like reassurance that it’s still beating.
SPENCER MCFARLANE || He may be happier in a no-holds-barred fist fight, but nobody could say Spencer isn’t good with a gun, an excellent shot with just about any weapon he can get his hands on. What’s odd is the little burst of panic he gets right after firefights, patting his own chest, checking again and again like he can’t quite believe he wasn’t hit.
HYRENE BRAEDEN || For all her quick temper and flippant attitude, Hyrene can be utterly pedantic about checking and rechecking the timers on bombs, which honestly isn’t an awful trait. What’s odd is the way Hyrene gets angry about it sometimes, storms about the penthouse yanking out every last alarm clock, the way she swears she can still hear something ticking with furious intention, like the last seconds of a countdown.
TERRANCE PHOENIX || Terrance isn’t wracked by guilt, doesn’t regret what he does the way some might; he’s a killer and he owns it, he chose it, and it truly doesn’t bother him. What’s odd is the way he still can’t sleep, can’t close his eyes some nights when the darkness squeezes close and he feels so cold, like the depths of the ocean are pressing down on him, stealing the air from his lungs. As Marlene’s second in command, he feels the responsibility to hold the crew together in the event that the kingpin finally snaps.
KYE || In terms of safety, Kye is as reckless as they come, all slapdash impulses and delighted disregard, chasing amusement at any cost when it’s only their neck on the line. What’s odd is that sometimes Kye walks around with a parachute strapped to their back and no intention of flying that day, utterly overzealous precaution without any real explanation as to why, like some part of them is always terrified they’re going to fall.
CAIM ROBINETT || Caim drives like he made a deal with the devil, like every vehicle is just an extension of his being, inherent ability paired with unmatchable knowledge of ever backroad alley in the city. What’s odd is the nightmarish daydreams he gets sometimes, when he looked back at his latest baby and sees flickers of crunched metal and shattered glass, the phantom scent of spilled gasoline and the unmissable click-swoosh of a catching flame.
ELIAN REED || There’s nothing odd about Elian. Just an unfortunate case of someone who got caught in the wrong situation at the wrong time. Or perhaps something is off. Every moment spent with her savior, the queen with hair like fire, it’s almost as though she’s in the presence of a ghost. They’re all like ghosts, and she can’t quite place a finger on why. She also can’t place a finger on why not just Marlene, but everyone in her inner circle, is so hellbent on making sure she’s never around them for just a moment too long.
EXCERPT
This job. Shit.
Terrance had his own suspicions about how aware the others were of how frequently he snuck off. Hyrene knew. And that didn’t necessarily mean the others did, too, but it left the possibility. That was enough to set his teeth on edge. Marlene asking him to play such a pivotal role in the job only made it worse.
If she knew about what he was doing now, then she was undoubtedly asking him to do it with the belief that he would not be walking away from it.
And for that alone, he would be sure to prove her wrong. How dare she disrespect him like this. Besides, when he died and woke up still in her home, then that would be cause for a great deal of fun.
He hadn’t been prepared for it all to happen so soon, though. He’d expected another few months to prepare to get rid of the threat that was Marlene McFarlane, but in that time she, too, had identified him as a threat, and was making the first move to see him taken off of the playing board.
“Terrance.”
Not a question of his presence. A statement. He heard the clacking of Marlene’s heels on the hardwood floor before she appeared.
Maybe the first punches would be thrown tonight, then.
“Yeah,” he said in answer, dipping his head in Marlene’s direction as she made her approach. She stalked forward with the gait of someone intent of making him into prey. He did not appreciate that.
“I had a question for you,” she said, positioning herself across the island from him. A smart move, if she really knew the extent to which he could harm her. If he tried hard enough, there wasn’t anything in the world that could bring her back.
But she didn’t need to know that. Not yet. Right now all she needed was the reliable second in command that he had dutifully played the role of for many years. The time for surprises would come later. Perhaps sooner than expected, but they could still wait.
“Go ahead,” he said invitingly, even going so far as to open his hands to her. Nonthreatening.
Her pale green eyes fixed on his mask, still settled near the corner of the island. Her eyes tightened. Okay, maybe a little threatening.
“How did you do it?” she asked.
Terrance laughed out loud. “I’ve done a great many things in this life you’ve given me. You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
Marlene kept her expression flat. Though emotionless, she somehow appeared angry when she asked, “How did you kill a god?”
Terrance paused in the middle of his drink, suddenly finding that he had to channel all of his focus into making sure he didn’t choke up what he’d already swallowed. Carefully swallowing what was in his mouth, Terrance lowered his glass to the counter with a quiet thunk.
“Who’d you hear that from?” he asked, his voice rasping slightly.
“People whisper,” said Marlene with a nonchalant shrug, leaning with her elbows against the surface of the island. “They spin the most splendorous tales out there, do you know that?”
“They’re also a bunch of crackheads who hallucinate half of the things they think they see,” Terrance countered. It certainly wasn’t false.
“But the imagery they spin is so vivid, wouldn’t you say?” said Marlene. “You haven’t heard the tales they tell about you?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“They whisper of the Renegade in a skull mask.” Another flicker of her eyes in the direction of the very same mask. “They worship the ground the Master of Death walks on as he mingles with the living.”
TAGLIST
@firefeatherx @goldenhour-goldenboy @mandoplease @mylifeliterally @phoenixhalliwell @havenforafrazzledmind @living-reminder @beatriz-silva-00 @pascalz @worldominatorx @givemethatgold @agirllovespancakes @lilacyennefer @dignityneeded @veuliee @briskywalker @davairys @aetherwrites @ryns-ramblings @teriwrites
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sams-sass · 4 years
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Hear Me
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Hi! Here is something I thought of and wanted to write down for you guys. Thanks for all the love! 
GIF not mine.
Summary: The case leads for Sam and Dean to find something out about you as Dean realizes something of his own. 
Characters: You, Sam, Dean
Pairing: Dean x Reader 
Warnings: None really, show level violence 
You, Sam, and Dean busted back into the motel room. You had spent the whole day looking into the lives of the victims and couldn’t come up with a single connection. Without a connection, there really wasn’t much to go on. All of the victims were female and had their throats slit and vocal cords removed. Other than that, they really had nothing in common. Different jobs, friends, ages, races, everything basically. You, Sam, and Dean had split up and gone to all the houses, it was a long day of listening to sad stories. You sat down on the bed as Dean handed you and Sam a beer before cracking one of his own.
“Maybe this isn’t a monster. Maybe its just a bad person doing a bad thing.” Sam said after taking a long drag from his beer.
“I don’t know, man. The lack of evidence, the stealing of the larynx specifically, the way the bodies were just tossed and not cared about. Seems pretty monstery to me.” Dean said back, his tone unsure.
“Sorry, Sammy, but I gotta go with Dean on this one. After leaving 7 bodies behind and not leaving a trace of evidence, especially since it could care less about the victims. It seems too lucky to be a human.” You weighed in coming to stand next to Sam.
“Alright so, lets go over it again. Dean, what did you find out about Beth?” Sam asked.
“Nothing man, she was a good girl. She wanted to be a scientist, she was studying physics, she had a boyfriend, craziest thing she did was sing karaoke at the local bar on Thursdays with friends.” Dean answered.
“Wait, she sang karaoke?” You asked looking up at him.
“Yeah, friend said she was good and that she loved to sing. What does that have to do with anything?” Dean asked giving you a confused look.
“The two girls I asked about, Jen and Grace. They were both singers too. Jen was a lot more professional taking gigs at bars, but she was also older. Grace was in her church choir. I didn’t think anything of it because a lot of people sing.” You answered
“Wait, my two were also singers. Hannah and Wendy both sang whenever they could. I didn’t think anything of it because what monster cares about singing.” Sam said nodding.
“Yeah….yeah the other two I asked about, uh Kelly and Dana they sang too. I ruled it out as a coincidence for same reason as Sam, what monster cares?” Dean agreed with the two of you.
“Holy….jackpot.” Sam said staring at his computer.
“What?” You and Dean said at the same time.
“There is a charity benefit concert thing coming up on Saturday, locally, and 4 out of our 7 victims were registered to be in it.” Sam said looking at the two of you, turning his computer so you could see.
“Well, that’s not a coincidence.” You said looking over the webpage.
“No, its not.” Dean shook his head next to you.
“This is a problem.” You sighed standing up straight.
“What is?” Dean asked.
“Every girl who is still registered is in danger. I think we need to be backstage.” You said letting your hip rest against the counter and crossing your arms.
“So what your saying is…we need a girl who can sing to go undercover for us.” Sam said raising one eyebrow and tilting his head in your direction.
“Concerts two days away.” You answered looking away, deep in thought. “I’ll sneak in the back and pretend to be a contestant. That way I can keep an eye on all of the girls and also feed you guys information as you’re in the audience.”
“You can’t sing….what if you have to sing?” Dead was confused, eyebrows furrowed.
“I can sing, I just don’t randomly sing in front of people.” You explained. “Now, if you will excuse me. I have some shopping to do and you guys have some tux’s to look into.”
“Tux?!” Dean said, eyes wide.
“Did you not read the part where it said it was a black tie affair?” You said grabbing your purse and heading for the door. You had seen a little boutique on your way in and knew they would have a dress for you. “Peace.” You said giving them a smile as the door closed behind you. You walked to the boutique to find a woman with a friendly face and a large smile. She helped you choose several dresses that you tried on. You found the one. It was a gown that hugged your curves and let loose where you wanted it too. It was a classic dress. You bought it and walked out of the store happy.
The next day the three of you devised a plan. Dean got a hold of the blueprints for the building and you two created a plan on the best way for you to sneak in. You then helped Sam to research on what this monster could be.  
“Oh my god…” You said looking at the webpage in front of you. “Well, goddess to be correct.”
“Goddess? What goddess?” Dean asked coming to stand behind you. He put his arms on the chair and leaned down. You could feel his breath on your skin, it was a slight distraction.
“Aoede, the goddess of voice and song. She was one of the original muses in Greek mythology. Said to collect voices of true song from those she deemed worthy.” You said reading from the page.
“Great. Another goddess.” Dean said pinching the bridge of his nose.
“How do we kill her?” Sam asked.
“According to this her only weakness is a gold blade dipped in the blood of a virgin.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
“Why do these things like virgins so much?” Dean spread his arms out, annoyance on his handsome face.
“Don’t know.” Sam said shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders.
“I have a crazy idea.” You said biting your lower lip. “Well, out of the three of us, I have definitely had the least amount of sex. So, what about if we purify my blood and give it a shot?”
“It could work.” Dean said tilting his head to the side and raising his hands in a “whatever” gesture.
“I mean if it doesn’t we’re screwed….but we’re always screwed and I don’t have a better idea so, alright.” Sam said placing his hands on his shoulder and looking into your eyes as you smiled up at him.
The next day you spent getting ready, the concert started at 7 and you were nervous. You hadn’t sung in years and you picked a big song. You dressed in black slacks and a white button down with a black vest over it. You went to the concert hall two hours early and snuck in the back door. You waited for other staff members begin to arrive, then you quietly walked into the room and stood with the rest of the cocktail waiters and waitresses. People began to arrive and fill the room, you slipped away and grabbed your backpack out of the bathroom stall you locked it in and walked in the back towards the dressing rooms. You found an empty one and locked the door. You curled your hair and pinned one side back letting the others fall. You went for a bold makeup look, a dark smokey eye and bold red lips. Taking the gold jewelry that you kept from your previous life before you became a hunter, you added a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. Then you slipped on your new dress and heels and opened the door as other contestants began to fill the halls. You needed to be quick to get to the band before people started taking their seats. You walked to the back and found the head of music, identifying him from the website you and Sam looked over. You quietly slipped him a 50 and whispered the song into his ear, placing your hand on his chest and looking up at him from your eyelashes. He nodded and licked his lips, letting his eyes linger on you for too long. You walked to the back of the stage with the other girls and waited.
People were now taking their seats as Sam and Dean looked around the room trying to find the seat with the best view to see the crowd. They walked to the back and took seats directly in the middle, looking around the room.
“Man, I hate wearing this thing.” Dean said tugging on his collar slightly. “I look like a penguin.” Sam smirked and looked at the crowd. The first few people came out and sang, they were all good, but neither Sam or Dean saw a reaction in the audience. Then you came on stage. Dean sat a little straighter in his chair as his stomach flipped. You were radiant, your dress was tight and showed off your figure. Your red lips were turned into a small smile as your heels clicked against the floor. The music started and Dean couldn’t look at anything but you. Your mouth opened and Dean heard the sound that suddenly made everything make sense.
Share my life, take me for what I am 'Cause I'll never change all my colors for you
Take my love, I'll never ask for too much Just all that you are and everything that you do
“Did you know she could sing like that?” Sam asked leaning in closer. Dean couldn’t form words at the moment so he just shook his head. I don't really need to look very much further I don't wanna have to go where you don't follow I won't hold it back again, this passion inside Can't run from myself There's nowhere to hide Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me... I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you
Your body was swaying along with the song and Dean couldn’t pull his eyes away, he was pretty sure he didn’t even blink. Dean was sitting there, mind swirling with images of you, quickly realizing he has been in love with you for years. Of course there was the playful flirting and smiles but this was something new. This feeling in his chest was growing in him and he couldn’t breathe. His arms were planted firmly on his thighs, holding him up. His green eyes gazing at you in a new light. You see through right to the heart of me You break down my walls with the strength of your love I never knew love like I've known it with you Will a memory survive, one I can hold on to I don't really need to look very much further I don't wanna have to go where you don't follow I won't hold it back again, this passion inside I can't run from myself There's nowhere to hide Your love I'll remember forever Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me... I have nothing, nothing, nothing...
You spread your arms out wide and looked through the whole audience. Dean knew you couldn’t see him, but God all he wanted was for you to look directly at him. His whole body was on fire and you were the only medicine. Don't make me close one more door I don't wanna hurt anymore Stay in my arms if you dare Or must I imagine you there Don't walk away from me, no Don't walk away from me Don't you dare walk away from me I have nothing, nothing, nothing If I don't have you
The entire audience was silent after you sang your final note before an eruption of applause surged through the crowd. People stood as they continued to clap, you took a small bow and waved as you walked off the stage. The trance Dean was in broke as Sam hit him in the chest lightly, getting his attention.
“Dude, black dress three o’clock.” Dean looked to where his brother was pointing, a woman with long auburn hair was exiting her row and heading for the backstage hallway. The two hurried from their seats and followed after her. When they walked into the hallway you were standing there, waiting.
“I saw her come this way.” You said as the brothers approached you. As soon as the words left your mouth Sam went flying towards the wall. Dean turned and grabbed his gold knife with your blood on it from the back of his pants. The woman walked out of the darkness and into the light. She was stunning. She had long auburn hair that cascaded in a waterfall of waves down her back, her eyes were a shining royal blue and her skin was a rich almond color with not a trace of impurities. As the two of you looked at her she waved her hand and Dean also went flying. Sam got up and charged at her with his knife, she quickly walked towards all of you and rammed Sam back to the ground.
“I just want your voice.” She said to you.
“Sorry, sis.” You said before you too were slammed into the wall. Dean charged at her and was able to land one blow in before she flung him across the room again. You tried to get up but couldn’t, there was something holding you to the ground. She continued to toss the boys around as you struggled against her hold. She pinned Dean to the ground and was holding her hand up, ready to strike when her head flung back as the gold blade entered her chest. She screamed loud and high, a light came from her chest and she burst into a ball of light that slowly dissipated. You stood there with the gold knife in your hand, panting slightly.
“Thanks, Y/N/N.” Dean said as Sam helped him to his feet. You nodded and the three of you quickly ran out the back door, someone must have heard something and was going to come and look. You all walked into the motel and Sam was the first to talk.
“So, Y/N.” Here we go. “Why didn’t you tell us you could sing like that?” He asked undoing his bowtie.
“What was I supposed to do? Be like oh, by the way guys: I’m a really good singer? Good morning, I can sing my little heart out, side note.” Sam laughed with you as you giggled.
“You’re amazing, Y/N.” Dean said, there was no joking in his face as he looked into your eyes.
“Thank you.” You tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as you looked down and smiled, feeling shy. You licked you lips. “Hey, mind if I take the first shower?” You asked. Both boys said you could take it and you quickly stepped out of your heels. Undressing and getting under the warm water felt really good, it is always fun to dress up now and again, but you enjoyed sweat pants a little more. As the makeup washed off your face and the curls were rinsed from your hair you thought about Dean. He looked so good tonight in his tux and for a few moments you could have sworn he was staring. Your crush on him had been brewing for a long time and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in. How many more times could you see him pick up some girl who smelt like 5 dollar perfume? How many more times could you have him wink at you or kiss you on the head and not reciprocate? How many more times could you ignore the dance your insides did when he looked at you like he was tonight? You shook all thoughts from your head and got out of the shower, putting on sweat pants and a big shirt for sleeping. You walked into the room as Sam walked into the bathroom. You gave Dean a small smile and walked over to one of the beds. You both sat down and it was then that you noticed Dean seemed nervous. He looked at you and then quickly looked away.
“What is it?” You asked facing him and leaning your head, trying to catch his eyes.
“Y/N….I don’t know how to say this.” Your breath caught in your throat as your stomach twisted into a tight knot.
“What is it?” You asked, trying to sound calm as your palms got sweaty.
“I, well, I think I’m in love with you.” He said finally looking at you. “I mean it, Y/N, when you were on that stage tonight…I could hardly breathe. You are the first thing that pops into my head in the morning and the last thing that floats through my mind at night. I always thought we were best friends, but baby, you mean so much more to me than just friendship.” He moved so he was now kneeling in front of you. His hands resting on your thighs as he spoke. “Every time I hear your voice my day is instantly better, every time I see you after a case I automatically know its going to be ok. You’re the one Y/N, you’re the one for me.” His hands were now running up and down your thighs as his eyes held yours.
“I love you too, Dean. I always have.” Was the only thing you could think of to say. He laughed slightly and you did too he then leaned forward and pressed his plump lips to yours. Your mouths moved together in perfect sync, his tongue entering your mouth, you sucking lightly on his bottom lip. Everything about the kiss was more than you ever dreamed of. Sam clearing his throat is what broke the two of you apart. He gave an awkward nod as he pressed his lips into a hard line. He quietly grabbed his bag and mumbled something about getting his own room. As soon as the door shut Dean was on you again, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek as his lips found yours again. His fingers lightly brushed the back of your neck as you twisted your arms around him. You both fell into the passionate and warm bliss that surrounded you and succumbed to your feelings.
As Sam walked out of the office holding the key to his own room he whispered a ‘finally’ to himself as his mouth rounded into a smile.
Three years later
“Dean!” You screamed running through the halls of the bunker. You guys had found this place a few months ago and nothing felt as good as having something to call ‘home’, or so you thought. You ran into his chest as he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from him, checking you over for an injury.
“What is it, baby?” He said, worry etched into his face.
“I’m….I’m….I.” You tried but you couldn’t get it out so you just handed him the test. He took it from you and stared at the plus sign. Your fingers nervously twisted as he continued to stare.
“You’re pregnant.” He said matter of factly. “Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” He said lifting you in his arms and kissing you desperately on the mouth. “I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you.” He said as tears filled his eyes.
“I love you too, Dean Winchester.” Was all you could get out before his mouth stopped you from speaking.
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ghostgothgeek · 4 years
Text
Blush. Chapter 3 has been posted!
Disclaimers: actual sex ed talk
FFN || AO3
---
Sam slowly walked over into the next room, saying hello to Mallory, who she already knew from her visits at the clinic, on the way to a seat in the back. Their class wasn’t huge, so it took only a minute or two to gather all the girls in one room. Ms. Tetslaff took note of who was in attendance before pulling out a newspaper and flipping to a crossword puzzle. Apparently, it was awkward for the teachers to be in the same room as the students as well. 
Mallory shut the door and took a seat on a stool in the front of the room. “First things first, this is a safe space. What happens in this room stays in this room. No question is a dumb question. We are going to be open with each other and respect each other.” She smiled and glanced around the room. “I see some familiar faces, but for those who don’t know me, my name is Mallory and I’m a nurse practitioner at Planned Parenthood. Feel free to reach out to me personally for any questions and resources you may need. Again, this is a judgement-free zone. Let’s jump right into it. By a show of hands, how many of you have heard about birth control or are on it already?” 
Sam looked around the room, seeing most hands go up, and raised hers as well. 
“Excellent. Now, birth control can come in many forms, including an IUD, an implant, a shot, and most commonly, pill form. Obviously the name states that it can be used to prevent pregnancy, but it can also be used to help with period symptoms if yours gets too unbearable that you can’t continue on with your normal daily activities. It can help control your acne, and can help regulate your cycle. If you are interested in learning more about this and how it pertains to you, I recommend making an appointment using the website or phone number on the back of my card there. Are there any questions thus far?” 
The girls all shook their heads and remained awkwardly silent. 
“Alright well, with all these hormone changes, you’ll begin to see more physical and emotional effects on your body. You’ll also likely develop more sexual urges and thoughts as well. You may find yourself sexually attracted to the opposite sex, the same sex, both, or none of these. Each sexual orientation is valid, and I would love to cover more of them in this short amount of time, but I was given specifics from your principal due to recent events.”
A couple of girls sunk down in their seats in embarrassment, while some others (Paulina, particularly) smirked and took note of exactly which girls she now had blackmail on. 
“I want to mention that regardless of how you identify, it is still important to use protection during sex of any kind. Even if you are in a situation where you can’t get pregnant, it is important to protect yourself and your partner from STDs as well. I’m sure most if not all of you are sexually active, so let’s talk about that. I’ll grab some things from my bag and we will go over them, but feel free to talk amongst yourselves while I set up.” 
Mallory started pulling things out of her bag while the girls remained fairly quiet at first. A few shifted in their seats or coughed, but Paulina was the first to break the silence, a small smirk forming on her face as she decided to torment her favorite victim.
“Well, we all know Sam gets plenty of extracurricular physical activity with Danny.” Several girls giggled at Paulina’s comment. 
“W-what do you mean?” Sam looked around the room nervously, avoiding everyone’s eyes. There was no way Paulina knew Sam was helping Danny Phantom fight ghosts. Did Paulina somehow make the connection between Fenton and Phantom? 
“You know what I mean. Is he good?” Paulina rested her chin on her hand and waited for Sam to answer.
“Well, yeah. He’s great. I can’t see anyone else doing what he’s doing.” Sam remained skeptical as to why Paulina suddenly decided to grow a brain and uncover Danny’s secret. 
“Really? I would think he’s pretty small…” Paulina loved to see the goth girl squirm. 
“He’s not! He’s been growing a lot lately and gets better every day.” Sam crossed her arms over her chest as she defended her friend. Danny has put on a lot of muscle since the accident!
Paulina raised her eyebrows as a few girls started to whisper. “Interesting. Are you guys adventurous?” 
“We...kinda have to be?” Danny was going to flip once he heard Paulina and now some of the other girls in the classroom knew he’s half ghost.
“That must be exhausting, trying new things all the time. But it’s also gotta be really rewarding as well,” Star chimed in with a wink. 
Valerie let out a small chuckle from next to her. She knew Sam was obviously misinterpreting what Paulina was implying, especially because she knew both girls rather well. Sam would not be that open with her enemy, or anyone for that matter, about her sex life with Danny. Valerie was pretty sure Sam was thinking about ghost fighting. It’s only been a few months since Valerie knew about Danny’s secret identity, which she intended to keep secret because Danny was actually a nice guy. She’s fought alongside them a few times and actually considered them friendly acquaintances, but for all the trouble the goth had given her over the years, particularly when she was interested in Danny too, she decided to let Paulina tease Sam for a bit. 
Paulina, although she had experimented, hadn’t actually done anything, despite what most people thought. But Valerie knew she always grilled everyone for information on sex, both for her own learning and perhaps leverage if she ever needed it. Paulina actually had quite a perverted brain, probably a side effect from all the time she spent with Dash and Kwan. Valerie also knew Paulina would never pass up the opportunity to embarrass Sam Manson. 
Meanwhile, Star would just do whatever Paulina told her to do or whatever she thought Paulina would be most pleased with. Plus, Star actually held all the secrets to Casper High. She was very observant and a keen listener. For some reason, everyone trusted her with their secrets. She was easily the Gretchen Wieners of Amity Park. 
“Ever do it in public?” Valerie bluntly asked, a small smirk on her face. Paulina seemed pleased her former friend was joining in on bombarding the goth girl. 
“Uh, I mean usually it’s in a public place, I guess. We can’t really control that, though.” Sam pressed her lips together and hoped all the attention she was getting would be ending very, very soon. She’d have to do damage control, that’s for sure. She’d have to make every girl in the room swear they’d never tell Danny’s secret, or she’d have to kill them. Most people were already afraid of her anyways, adding death threats she would never actually carry out wouldn’t be a huge surprise. 
Paulina’s jaw dropped slightly. “Wow. I have to give you losers more credit. I never thought you’d have the guts to actually do anything.” 
Sam scoffed at her. “We’re perfectly capable of handling ourselves.” 
“Clearly,” Star started, “I’m so telling Uncle Jeremy about this.” She whispered the second part to Sam. Only Paulina knew that Star and Sam were actually cousins. She’d keep that secret until her death bed for the sake of her best friend’s reputation. 
“You tell my dad, I tell everyone we’re cousins.” Sam narrowed her eyes at the girl.
“One is the truth and one is a lie. Which one is more believable?” Star crossed her arms defiantly. She sure lived up to the reputation she built herself. “You’re with Danny all the time.”
“Then I’ll tell everyone who your secret crush is. Both of them.” Sam smirked at her cousin’s shocked face. Most people knew Star liked Kwan, but she wasn’t fully out as bi just yet. 
“How di-”
“Like that’s a giant leap? Please, it’s obvious.” Her eyes quickly flashed to the Latina girl next to Star, then back to the blonde. “You can’t tell anyone about Danny.” Sam warned sternly. 
“Ooh, so this is secret information?” Paulina smiled, suddenly interested in the conversation again. She loved secrets. 
“Of course it’s secret information! Why would he ever want this getting out? His parents would kill him!” 
“Well, for one he’d be quite a hero,” Paulina pointed out.
“He already is a hero.” 
“If you say so, freak. So, is it actually romantic? Does it hurt?” Paulina took mental notes. 
“I mean, sometimes we get hurt, but it’s nothing we can’t deal with. Especially when Tucker is there to help too. As for romantic, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Sam was beginning to think Paulina was batshit crazy.
“Oh, so it’s a friends with benefits kinda deal then?” Ashley, a girl from their class suddenly piped in. Sam had never spoken to the girl in her life, and now she and almost half of their class found Sam quite interesting. If only they invested their time into actual causes that matter rather than gossip...
“Must be,” Star said. “No wonder your parents don’t like Danny.” She giggled. 
“Friends with what?” Sam looked at the girls confused for a brief moment before she remembered what they were learning about today: sexual education. The girls were talking about sex the whole time. In particular, sex with Danny. 
Sam’s eyes widened as her face heated up, turning a bright crimson. “N-no, uh, it’s not...I mean we never, we aren’t doing...he’s my f-friend…” She couldn’t stop stammering; she had never been more mortified in her entire life. 
“Uh huh, sounds really convincing.” Paulina smirked. 
“Yeah, freaky girl likes to get freaky, no big deal.” Star shrugged nonchalantly. 
Sam wished she had Danny’s power of invisibility right now. Stop thinking about Danny in sex ed. “We….we aren’t a couple, we’re not dating, we are not together.” She felt like she was sitting under a microscope. She looked up at Mallory, who was still writing things on the board and paying absolutely no attention to the girls gossiping in the back. 
“You can keep telling yourself that, but there’s always been something more between you guys. Trust me, we’ve all seen it,” Valerie said as all the girls nodded.
Why was everyone suddenly so interested in Sam and her sex life? Or rather, lack thereof. Sam preferred being ignored over this. “N-no, we aren’t….having...sex…” It was so hard just for her to get the words out. 
“But you’d like to. Someday. I mean, we all know you like him...like, like him like him.” Valerie raised an eyebrow at the goth. “Maybe even then some.” Valerie and Sam had some silent understanding, though they never actually had the conversation, that Valerie backed off of Danny for more than just ghost fighting reasons. “It’s normal to want to sleep with the guy you like.”
“I don’t-” Sam stopped as Valerie held her hand up for her to stop talking.
“Don’t try to deny it. I saw you guys making out in the bushes freshman year.” Valerie’s comment earned a lot of chatter amongst the girls. Lots of “I knew it”s and “no wonder”s and “I told you so”s filled the room. 
“Give us details!” Mia, another girl Sam had never spoken to, screeched, all girls drawing their undivided attention towards Sam. 
“Oh my God.” Sam face palmed and dragged her hand down her face. “Kill me. Kill me now.” 
“Alright, ladies!” Mallory clapped her hands to get their attention. Sam silently thanked all of the possible higher powers for the save. “I already mentioned birth control. However, the best way to prevent getting an STD is to use condoms.” She held one up high in the air. “They look like this, and come in various sizes. Please do not feel embarrassed to buy them for your partner, and remember to check for the expiration date and any signs of damage.” She unwrapped it and stretched it gently for a demonstration. “It’s always better to be over prepared and to protect both yourself and your partner. Now, we are going to practice putting one on.” 
Mallory picked up the crate from the floor and set it on a chair, pulling out a bunch of bananas and snapping one off. “So, if this is the penis, you start by rolling the condom on like so. I’m going to pass out some supplies and you are all going to do what I just demonstrated. Please pass back a banana and a few condoms to your fellow classmates.” She gave everyone in the front row a bunch of bananas followed by a large handful of condoms. 
With Mallory temporarily distracted, Paulina decided to keep pressing for information. “So he gave you earrings, picked you to win the pageant, you spend more time at his house than your own, and you’ve been caught rolling around in the bushes at least once. You’re really trying to tell us there’s nothing going on between you and Danny Fenton?” 
Sam groaned. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I’m not dating anyone, especially not Danny.” She grabbed her supplies from the girl in front of her. 
“Well you got pretty cozy pretty fast with Elliot not too long ago.” 
Sam narrowed her eyes at Ashley. “Wow, and people say you never pay attention in school.” She finished off her sarcastic remark with a signature eye roll.
“That’s right! You were all lovey dovey goth freaks until Danny broke you up!” Star perked up at her sudden recall of information. 
“That’s not at all what happened. Now, can we please stop talking about me and Danny and how we aren’t dating?” 
“You can still sleep with him without dating him. That’s what friends with benefits means,” Paulina pointed out.
Sam pinched the bridge of her nose, growing to a surprisingly new level of annoyance she never thought was possible. “Danny and I are just friends. Best friends. That’s it. We aren’t dating, and we definitely aren’t having sex. Zero. Zip. Nada. Zilch. None.” She sighed in relief as there was no immediate response. Perhaps this time she was stern enough and they would leave her alone.
Then, after a moment…
“Even if she says they’re not sleeping together doesn’t mean they aren’t doing stuff.” Sam wanted to scream. “They’re always sneaking around and trying to get away from other people. Plus she has DSL.” Paulina examined her manicure. 
“DSL?” Some girl, Hannah may have been her name, asked. 
“Dick sucking lips. That purple lipstick must go places.” 
“Alright, that’s enough. Let the girl breathe.” Valerie stepped in. It had gone too far. She looked over at Sam and mouthed an apology. Sam forced a small smile and mouthed a thank you. Valerie meant well, really. And she was generally pretty cool. At a certain time, the topic of Danny made things harder between the girls, though they had mainly moved past that at this point. The girls were fairly friendly now that Valerie wasn’t wanting to kill Danny Phantom anymore. 
Paulina smirked and opened her mouth to torment her victim more, but the instructor had finally spoken up again. 
“Alright, each of you should have been supplied a banana? Good, now you’re all going to take the condom, unwrap it, and roll it onto the banana.” Mallory gave another demonstration, covering the fruit in a colorful green rubber this time.
Sam wasn’t paying attention. She couldn’t pay attention. She didn’t give a fuck what people thought. But this also involved Danny. She could feel a light blush hit her cheeks just thinking about him. She couldn’t drag Danny into this. Plus, why would he even want a rumor going around that they were sleeping together? He didn’t like her that way. He definitely didn’t think she was attractive enough for...that. He pined after other girls all the time. And they’re only 18! Well, she and Tucker were 18. Danny still had a few weeks before his 18th birthday at the beginning of April. But either way, that’s way too young to be hav-
“Sam, I know you already know this stuff, but please set an example for the other girls.” 
Sam looked up at Mallory like a deer in headlights. She just noticed she had peeled her banana and started eating it in the middle of her whirling thoughts. She stopped chewing and looked down at her banana, which was a quarter of the way gone already, then at all the girls who were trying to roll the colorful rubbers onto their own bananas.
Sam mentally slapped herself. She was totally calm earlier this morning. Like she had told Tucker, it’s just the human body, it’s natural. But ever since Paulina had made that first implication of Sam sleeping with Danny, she was frazzled. She couldn’t stop imagining what it would actually be like if they were to ever date...
Mallory sat another banana on Sam’s desk and gave her a soft smile. Sam grimaced after Mallory turned and walked back to the front of the room and stared down at it. Ugh. Why does it have to be a banana? She would never be able to eat one now without thinking about dicks. They’re probably not shaped and sized like this anyways. Sam couldn’t imagine any guy in school having a dick the size of a banana in their pants. Surely that would be noticeable? 
She glanced down at the banana again as she slouched in her seat and rolled the condom onto it. 
How would something as big as a banana fit up there anyways?! She knew from her research (fanfiction and romance novels) that girls preferred guys to be bigger...down there. Plus, guys seemed to compare or mention sizes all the time. 
Sam looked at her banana with the purple condom rolled onto it. Was Danny that big? 
WOAH. Nope. Abort mission! Don’t go there, Manson. 
She felt her face heating up again. She hoped Danny and Tucker were having an easier time than she was. Stop thinking about Danny in sex ed! 
Valerie glanced over at the goth again, noticing her red face. “Hey, I’m sorry if I egged them on too much about the making out in a bush comment,” she whispered. 
Sam shot her a small smile. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. It’s only happened a small handful of times.” 
Valerie raised her eyebrow and moved closer to Sam. “Spill,” she pursed her lips, “if you want to, that is.” 
Sam took a deep breath and smiled at Valerie’s level of respect. She was definitely getting closer to Valerie more recently, and it was a nice break from all the testosterone every once in a while. She could even start seeing Valerie as a best friend, one she could talk to about boys and period problems. But that required effort. 
“Okay umm…” She saw Valerie’s eyes light up when she realized Sam was actually going to talk to her. It was actually kind of a nice feeling to finally talk to someone about this. Plus, she could trust Valerie. If Valerie could be trusted with Danny’s secret, Sam felt she could trust her with just about anything (except her family’s wealth; she didn’t need to reopen old wounds for her new friend). Sam gave a genuine smile, feeling a little excited to be able to finally gush about this. “Well, you mentioned the first time it happened. In the bushes. But it doesn’t totally count because it was a fakeout makeout and we were trying to distract you from discovering Danny’s secret,” she said quietly. 
Valerie nodded eagerly and motioned for Sam to continue. 
“There’s been a couple of fakeout makeouts since then. So it’s really not a big deal, but it is really nice kissing him. I don’t know how he feels though.”
Valerie chuckled, “Girl, I saw his face after you kissed him. He definitely liked it. Oh and, uh, sorry for calling you guys losers. You’re actually some of the most genuine people I’ve ever met.” 
“We’re past that, Val. All is forgiven.” Sam opened another condom and rolled it around in her hands, giving them something to do. She wants to be friends with Valerie, but she was still nervous. Gushing about boys certainly wasn’t very goth of her, but she really appreciated the bond she saw many women having with each other. So she wanted that too. Sue her. 
“So have there been any times where he’s kissed you for real?” Valerie set her three colorfully wrapped bananas on her desk, giving Sam her full attention. 
“Um. I’m not really sure. Kinda once. And uh...he may be banned from my house right now because my mom caught us lightly making out…” Sam twirled her hair around her finger as Valerie let out a laugh. 
“No way! Really?!” 
Sam laughed also, “Yeah, it was pretty embarrassing. I don’t know what would have happened if my mom hadn’t walked in, if we would have gotten together or not, but yeah. If I ever bring up Danny in a conversation, my parents get all frazzled and my dad leaves the room. It’s actually been really fun to mess with them.” Sam grinned. 
“Wait, your mom walked in on you and Danny having sex?!” Paulina said a little too loudly, earning a few heads turning in their direction. Paulina reached into her backpack and dug around for a bit. What the heck was she doing anyway?
“No!! That’s not at all what happened!” 
Valerie chuckled again, “well, you know I-” Her watch suddenly beeped. “Ghost,” she mouthed to Sam, who nodded and looked around as well. She spotted Kitty ducking her head back in through the wall. 
Before Valerie could jump into action, Sam grabbed her arm. “Don’t worry, I got it. And thanks.” 
Quickly rising from her seat and ignoring all the eyes on her, she mentioned to the instructor she needed to use the restroom and walked out of the classroom before anyone could stop her, sneaking a thermos out with her. Once the classroom door was closed and she was in the hallway, she started walking around.
“Kitty?” Sam whispered, jumping a bit when said ghost suddenly popped up in front of her. “What are you doing here?” Sam hissed. 
Kitty shrugged. “Johnny and I were riding by and saw the guys and girls all split up and got curious. By the way, if you ever need some alone time with Danny, just let us know. We can try to keep other ghosts away for twenty minutes or so.” She winked at Sam.
“What?! How did you hear about that?!” 
“Good gossip travels fast in the Ghost Zone.” Kitty shrugged nonchalantly. 
“The entire Ghost Zone has heard about this?! But it’s not even true!! You have to tell them it isn’t true!” What the fuck, all the ghosts knew about today now?! Did Paulina secretly have a ghost counterpart in the Ghost Zone? Was Sam in the Twilight Zone? What the fuck was happening today?!
“Nah, it’s fine. They definitely don’t want to sneak in on anything.” Sam raised an eyebrow at the comment. “Also holler if you need tips or anything. I know my Johnny sure likes it when I top sometimes. The trick is to move your hips like-”
“La la la I don’t want to hear this!” Sam covered her ears and looked back at the ghost. “Do I need to stuff you in the thermos or not?” She popped her hip and held up the thermos. 
“Don’t be so dramatic! I just want to help. Johnny and I love helping couples! He went to find your boyfriend a few minutes ago, actually. Trust me, Johnny knows what he’s doing. He’ll teach Danny how to do it right.” 
Sam choked on her spit at that comment. “What?! Oh god, this day needs to be over already. What the fuck is happening?” She let out a long groan. 
“Okay, I don’t need a preview or anything. Just let me know if you need tips. By the way, you definitely should listen to that lady. Always use protection. I never really know when Johnny’s feeling extra...glowy that day.” Kitty zoomed off before Sam could change her mind about putting her in the thermos. 
Glowy? What the-?
Oh. Oh god. Ghosts...must glow when they...did that mean that when Danny would…that he...does he think of her ever when he...?
Sam’s face burned scarlett again. STOP THINKING ABOUT DANNY LIKE THAT!
She leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor. Letting out a sigh, she blew her bangs out of her face. The girls’ comments kept swirling through her head. And now the ghosts are all in on it too?! She wasn’t sleeping with Danny! “But you’d like to. Someday.” She growled at Valerie’s words. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before, she just always squashed those thoughts immediately. They were still in high school for fucksake! And they weren’t even together! 
For a split second, Sam let her mind wander; the thought of getting that intimate with anyone was terrifying, but she always felt safe and secure with Danny. She was closer to him than anyone else in her life anyways, just not, you know….physically. Only a little bit.
Oh God, stop going there. She felt her face heating up again, so she climbed up from her spot on the floor and went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face and calm down. 
This whole thing was stupid, anyways. Sure, she liked Danny. A lot. But that didn’t mean anything would happen between them. Just because they kissed a few times didn’t mean that Danny liked her. As far as she knew, he still liked Paulina and probably still Valerie to an extent. She frowned. She would never understand what guys saw in Paulina. 
She dried her face off with a paper towel and stared at herself in the mirror. Danny would never see her in any way other than a friend or a sister. And high schoolers are just dumb. Hormones ran wild, as expected with teenagers, and everyone always talked about doing things, but aside from the whole debacle that got the school to have a sex education day in the first place, she highly doubted anyone was doing anything beyond second base. Everyone was just so immature. Guys and girls can be best friends and have sleepovers and find each other attractive without it being weird. But what if she and Danny did have something more than friendship?
She facepalmed. Nothing would ever happen. If anything were to happen, Danny would have made a move by now. Don’t get your hopes up. People were just stupid and trying to tease her. She knew she had to just not give a shit about what other people say or think like she always did. Once she convinced herself that she was calm and everything was normal (ghosts aside), she rounded the corner and left the bathroom feeling more confident. Until she ran into someone. 
Sam was so flustered from previous events and was walking with so much momentum, she didn’t notice Danny walking out of the boys’ bathroom at the same time she was leaving the girls’. And because he was taller (and clumsier) than she was, he knocked them both to the ground.
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allofthefeelings · 4 years
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Hi. I forgot that sad endings exist, and now, I'm scared stupid after your last BW movie post. She's dead already! I want something close to happy! (Oh god, I hope the fanfics come through 😭😭😭)
(Before I begin, I would also like you to know that, while this is over 4000 words long, I did cut a several-paragraphs-long digression comparing the BW movie to Beauty and the Beast: The Enchanted Christmas. You’re welcome.)
I know I’m once again outing myself as an optimist here, and I’m sure I’ll also end up getting smug asks in four months when much of my speculation is wrong, but what the hell. If I was on this tumblr to be right I would have made a LOT of different decisions.
So.
I really, truly don’t think we’re going to get a sad ending.
But the question is, how does it achieve a not-sad ending? Or, to completely re-frame and re-structure: for a character like Natasha, what exactly is a happy ending?
Buckle in, because this gets long.
I think we can all agree that, by definition, we’re starting the movie from a point of melancholy at best, just because we know that in 2023 Natasha will be dead. She doesn’t get to ride into the sunset in any way, shape, or form. Every other solo movie- even the ones with tragic endings, like Thor Ragnarok’s destruction of Asgard and a large portion of its people- have given characters a path forward and the odds that even if this won’t give them a happy ending, it gives them a way towards one. It ends with hope. There isn’t room for that here, for obvious reasons. But what there is room for- and this is, ironically, achievable because of one of the major flaws of IW- is the idea that she did achieve growth, and then had six years to live the life she wanted.
Or, not the life she WANTED, which probably would not have been one part on the run/five parts half of society obliterated by Thanos. Let’s say she had the chance to live a terrible life self-actualized.
IW’s complete and utter lack of meaningful characterization for 90% of the cast means that we don’t really have a sense of where Natasha was in that movie. That gives a lot of room to play with, to put Natasha at the end of the BW movie in a place that she wants to be in. In other words, they can retroactively argue that the reason Natasha isn’t given room to grow in IW is that she had achieved her growth in between CW and IW.
Which, look. Doylistically this is beyond bullshit. Doylistically this is actually offensive, and if they’re looking to retroactively placate us about how Natasha’s arc went, it really doesn’t work. I’m not talking about what was intended, or what was achieved; I don’t think this is either of those. I’m talking about what we can choose to read into it.
And, frankly, as a Natasha fan, that’s pretty much all we do anyway. I can argue (and clearly have argued) her arc for ages, but that’s all the work I’ve done, and you (collective, Natasha fans) have done- not the work the text has done.
None of this is remotely answering the question. But I think it’s necessary groundwork to begin to answer the question.
Because what the BW movie can give us is that growth arc that takes place in the negative spaces of canon.
Well, first of all, the BW movie gives us the fact that things happen at all in the negative spaces of canon. I know I’ve discussed this already, but it’s worth mentioning again: the way audiences are supposed to read texts is that everything pertinent happens on screen. Even supplemental texts that are considered canonical (cut scenes, novelizations, official tie-in comics, movie scripts) are deemed inherently less valuable because they aren’t on the screen. This movie affirms that important events are happening off-screen, to everyone- or at least everyone who isn’t front and center.
This is, again, infuriating, and I feel like when I say this I’m inadveretently contributing to justification. That is not my intention. Natasha’s growth should have been on screen and should have been seen as important. I hate that it’s reduced to a single movie after ten years and the character’s death. I don’t think this justifies it. AT THE SAME TIME, I think this opens space for us to look at lots of characters who haven’t gotten the screen time they deserved.
(Like, they may never give Rhodey the movie he deserves, but at least no one can tell us that if he did something worth seeing it would have been on screen. This movie’s existence is a rebuttal of that. This is a digression but one I’m gonna keep making until everyone starts casually referring to awesome shit Rhodey did off-screen because WHY THE FUCK NOT, YOU CAN’T PROVE IT DIDN’T HAPPEN, “IT DIDN’T HAPPEN ON SCREEN” IS NO LONGER PROOF OF ANYTHING EXCEPT THEY HAVEN’T DONE THE SET-IN-THE-PAST MOVIE YET. Y E T.)
But we also get the possibility of growth, and to analyze what growth means for Natasha’s character.
So here is an issue: I can tell you, with a frankly absurd amount of confidence, what I read Natasha’s arc as. I can lay it out from film to film, I can point to key growth moments, I can read a lot into every scrap that made it into the final cut and I can tell you exactly why, and I feel like if you dig into my history you’re going to find a lot of me citing specific scenes to make my point so I’m not going to go too in-depth on an already-long post that is getting exponentially longer. I think that Natasha’s key arc is in figuring out who she is and what she needs, and how to be a person rather than a reflection of what is asked of her. I think that the mirror imagery in the trailer and in the SDCC/D23 BW footage lends credence to this being a key theme of the movie.
But I have absolutely no idea if I’m right, because the MCU has never considered Natasha to be important enough to be the focus, and as a result I read her arc mostly through the ways she mirrors other characters’ stories, usually to show their strengths by comparison. I do my best to make arguments that are textually supported, but at the same time, it’s like describing the sun entirely from the way that its light reflects off the moon.
So I can say that for the BW movie to be satisfying, it needs to offer completion to her arc, which is then capped in IW/Endgame but would have reached its climax in the BW movie. But since I cannot confidently tell you what her arc has been so far, I can’t figure out exactly how that arc could be satisfactorily completed. Which means, after SEEING the movie, I will have to retroactively figure out how they saw her arc, and then figure out if this was a satisfactory way to end it.
But an argument done in hindsight is colored by what I’ve already seen, and that’s a cheat. So let’s start over.
Here is what we know:
Natasha was taken from her family very young (Endgame: didn’t know her father’s name). As a child, she was abused and manipulated by the Red Room (Agent Carter; Age of Ultron). She was trained to be a Black Widow, did terrible shit for them for a while, defected, became a mercenary, did terrible shit for the highest bidder (Avengers). Clint was sent to kill her but made a different call and brought her in to SHIELD (Avengers). Natasha quickly rose in the ranks and became one half of a STRIKE team watched over by Fury’s right-hand man, Coulson (Avengers). Natasha also became very close with Nick Fury, the head of SHIELD (IM2, Cap2). At some point in there she was shot by the Winter Soldier (Cap2). She was one of the people behind putting together the Avengers Initiative, identifying Tony Stark as not qualified (IM2), and recruited into the team herself (Avengers). She did not leave the Avengers teams for the next 11 years; she was on the first iteration (lasting through Age of Ultron), the second (Age of Ultron through Civil War), and then the Secret Avengers (which we can now assume starts post-BW through Infinity War) and Avengers 3.0 (five-year gap team), as well as the Quantum Realm Team-Up Team right up til she got yeeted off Vormir.
We’ll set Secret Avengers and Team 3.0 aside for the moment, as they’re things that will exist post-BW movie canon.
Natasha’s narrative role has often been to be so amazing that when she’s bested, we know the other person is really good. The best way for me to pull this together into a coherent throughline is that Natasha tends to be bested by people with passion and emotional stakes. When Natasha is just doing her job, but Pepper cares about Tony or the Dora Milaje care about T’Challa, she is outmatched. In Cap2, when Natasha cares deeply about SHIELD and who she’s loyal to, she is able to outmatch everyone she faces, but since she’s a secondary character and her act isn’t as highly visible on screen, her heroism isn’t as spotlighted.
(That said, make no mistake, WE WILL BE COMING BACK TO HER HEROIC MOVE IN THIS MOVIE.)
Her role has also been, as I mentioned earlier, to be a mirror to the white male heroes. She mirrors Tony in IM2, Clint in Avengers, Steve in Cap2, and Bruce in Ultron. I can make a strong argument, that I feel is supported by each text, that each of these mirrors is about moderation, and both the white man of choice and Natasha finding that the ideal is somewhere between both points: the space between how and why Tony and Natasha handle secrecy; between how Clint and Natasha handle guilt; between how Steve and Natasha handle trust; between how Bruce and Natasha handle self-hatred. That the writers and directors often disagree with my read of this does not, in any way, dissuade me from believing it, but it does mean that this may not be the arc we’re looking at in the movie.
By the arcs that I’ve traced, though, they have a fair amount of leeway to give a satisfying conclusion no matter what the plot is. By having other characters mirroring Natasha, she is centered in a way she never had been, and simply being the protagonist of her own story is part of Natasha’s journey we haven’t seen. We know that this is going to in some way revisit the Red Room, and that means that we’ll get to see a story where Natasha is passionate about and personally connected to what she’s fighting. We also know that whatever the story is, it will not be Natasha mediating someone else’s approach to the world, but Natasha’s approach to the world with someone else (I’m guessing Yelena?) mediating her worldview, in a way that gives Natasha growth but does not undercut her as someone who had so much to learn from the REAL hero.
All plot to the side, simply because Natasha is the protagonist, there is an element of satisfaction inherent, both textually and metatextually, because Natasha’s role of being sidelined is both within the text and within the media landscape a struggle she’s finally able to overcome. There is also a metatextual satisfaction just in cleaning up the bits and pieces of canon that we’ve gotten that were left hanging. For example, in her heroic climax in Winter Soldier, Natasha- who was so focused on being able to transform into whatever was necessary- released a fuck-ton of national security information on the internet, including her own history, that made her both immutable and knowable. (Do you ever think about how this means that people living within the MCU know more about Natasha’s background than we, the audience, does? Because I do, c o n s t a n t l y.) Natasha went from working undercover and in the shadows to being an Avenger and releasing not just her own and not just SHIELD’s but also the Red Room’s dirty laundry in public, and that has never had narrative consequences; this is a great opportunity to use that, closing a loop that most people probably forgot even existed.
Speaking of closure.
I think this movie HAD to be designed with that specifically in mind. I don’t think they necessarily expected the backlash they got from Natasha’s death (I’m going to be honest here; I didn’t expect it from anyone but Natasha fans), but at least they had to know that people who had been promised Natasha would get her due in canon would be frustrated and want some sign that the complexity of the character that had been talked up for a decade was actually part of the story they put on film. Marvel wants to placate fans, yes, but they wouldn’t waste millions upon millions of dollars on a movie to get us to shut up; their job is to bring in money, and it’s not like they haven’t gotten ten years’ worth from us. They’re also savvy enough to know that for a character who’s no longer alive in canon, they need to do things that make their story relevant even without them having future appearances- and I think we’ll see that in Yelena and Taskmaster- but also to make this story have stakes.
Yeah, we never spend a Marvel movie saying “Oh geez, what if the hero dies?” (well, aside from Civil War, because comics oontext), but right now we’re going in knowing (or, bare minimum, thinking we know) exactly what happens to Natasha. Where she’ll end up just under two years from when the story starts is set in stone (NO PUN INTENDED). So we need another way to give the story stakes. Natasha’s life and her future aren’t up in the air. Her past is, I guess, but they’ve been clear this movie isn’t about her past. And where that leaves us is the emotional journey. I outlined above what I think that is, but it doesn’t have to be that to be satisfying- it just has to be some way to leave Natasha changed in a way that surprises us as audience.
And, sure, that could be loss- that could be betrayal from everyone in this movie, leaving her alone and with no one to turn to but the Avengers- but I don’t think that is. I think that’s looking at Natasha’s story like she’s still a secondary character, rather than the protagonist. The basic structure of a superhero movie (and specifically a Marvel movie) is that the protagonist suffers defeat but ultimately triumphs, internally if not externally, having learned something that takes them farther on their emotional journey. Since (as far as we )know this is the only movie Nat’s getting- she’s not getting a trilogy or a Dis+ show- this needs to take her farther than most single-protagonist movies have.
In terms of another kind of closure: If the movie doesn’t offer at least a hint of a way Nat could come back (and I’m still hoping for that no matter how unlikely it is, and if it doesn’t happen I’m hoping for it in the Dr Strange sequel, and after that I’m sure I’ll find another path), I think there’s an excellent chance the post-credits scene will be a funeral for her. Given that they have SebStan and Mackie and Emily Van Camp shooting together right now, it would be very easy to at the VERY least get us a scene of them mourning her. It’s not the same as Tony’s giant lakehouse memorial, but it’s about half the characters who were close to her when she was alive (the others being Clint, Maria, and Fury, and I’m pretty sure they could have put an hour of time on the FFH set to the latter two having five seconds of looking solemn). I think that, given the backlash to Endgame, they need something like this: we need to see, on screen, conclusive proof that Natasha’s life mattered, not just for the audience, but for the world she lived in.
My dream would be for the entire movie to use a frame story OF her funeral- people talking about her, different memories and different understandings, that combine in different ways to collectively show a whole. Fucking Rashomon that shit. But we all know they’re not going to do that.
I recognize I am still talking satisfying and not happy.
But what exactly is happy? What exactly is the happy ending Natasha might want?
She’s not a character who wants to retire or settle down somewhere. As much as we in the audience talk about wanting her to get a break, we’ve never seen that from her, and we also don’t see a world that could really offer that to her; especially post-Cap2, Natasha does not have the luxury of escaping her past even if she did want to.
We don’t know her goals. We don’t know what she wanted outside of making amends for her past. We’ve gotten that from almost every other character- say what you want about Steve’s Endgame ending (god knows I have), or about Bruce being a public figure that kids love, but at least there was groundwork laid for it.
i think the best argument we have for what makes Natasha happy is in Civil War, when it’s taken away. Natasha is willing to give up things that are important to her (her autonomy) in favor of not losing her team; being together is the priority for her. By the end of Civil War, she’s lost even that; she’s seen to have betrayed her entire team and has no one. By IW we know that she re-finds her group, that she and Steve and Sam and Wanda are a tightly-knit unit, but we have to piece it together ourselves, and we have no way to know that it’s by choice rather than necessity. (The BW trailer is really the first time we get evidence that Natasha has more resources than just the Avengers or SHIELD; even fic has tended to just posit she has empty safehouses, not living people she can go to.) The BW movie could give her that team, and retroactively make her appearance in IW a reward for her- having found the team she wanted- rather than just the natural place for her to end up.
But I can’t see how that would even work without at least some of Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, and Elizabeth Olsen appearing in this movie and showing on screen that Natasha has her people. We haven’t seen evidence they aren’t, but at least I haven’t heard any rumors they are, the way we’ve heard rumors about RDJ.
And there’s something awful, to me, in Natasha constantly being supporting in other people’s movies, which exist to seem self-contained even if they’re not, but then in her movie her emotional fulfillment relying on things that happen elsewhere- the implication that her emotional arc can’t even support a single movie.
In terms of what we’ve seen achieved, Natasha seems happiest when she’s solving a problem, when she’s fighting and winning and being the hero she doesn’t quite believe she is. But that’s not something that can be an end to an arc, of a decade or even of two hours. No matter how great that is, it’s a momentary thing, and it’s fleeting. That’s happiness but not narratively satisfying
This remains not an answer to the original questions.
I think part of the issue is, it’s not necessarily that we need Natasha to be happy, for her to have a happy ending. It’s that we, the audience, wants to be happy- and frankly, I don’t think that’s unreasonable; we’re not going to blockbusters to have our hearts torn out (and I think that after Endgame especially, Natasha fans are not ready or willing to do that again). And so we’re looking less at how Natasha can be happy, but how we can be happy. Selfishly, I’d even add: how we can be happy without doing the work. How we can be happy without conspiracy-theorizing our way to a satisfying narrative, but rather, a narrative that’s already on the screen, that we can just roll around in and enjoy.
I realize how bizarre this is to say after 3000+ words, but: I want the opportunity to be a lazy viewer. I want the chance to take things in without having to take responsibility for making them into something I want to see. I don’t want to have to reverse-engineer her story; I want to dig into the minutiae that is maybe actually intended.
On some level, that’s going to be the happy ending for me. Just having a whole text to dive into is a gift. (I am probably monkey-pawing myself just by saying this, which is the same kind of bullshit I argued for Age of Ultron- but then, I still can rewatch Ultron and find a lot that I like.) And Natasha getting a narrative win- which, as protagonist, she kind of has to- will be a happy ending for me.
But I’m a Natasha fan. This is expected.
What I think is the real question under all of this- what I’ve been struggling to tease out from my own feelings, and maybe now I’m finally getting to it- is a different question entirely: how can Marvel craft a story that sticks with their formula of giving a protagonist a win and something like a happy ending, while telling a story about a character who has been sidelined for ten years until they killed her off? Setting aside those of us who are overly invested in Natasha’s arc, what is the path to telling a story that the majority of the audience- most of whom haven’t traced her history, many of whom are casual fans, some of whom probably didn’t even see Endgame- finds fulfilling and happy?
The hero has to win, obviously. The hero has to triumph. Natasha has to come away having saved the world (stopping a villain from destruction), her world (protecting those close to her), and her internal world (some kind of emotional progress/catharsis). There will be moments intended for the audience to cheer. That’s a formula that you can find in nearly every superhero movie, and with good reason; I can’t think of why it wouldn’t apply here.
So looping back around, the question about the sad ending really is just for those of us who are deeply engaged. It’s not “will Natasha triumph?” because yes, she will- of course she will. We are going to get a movie where the world will be saved by Natasha (which has happened before) and the text will acknowledge that (which it really has not). The real question at hand is “will Natasha’s triumph be enough to mitigate the substantial losses she’s had in the other movies, or will it be bittersweet, her success here just underscoring the way that her biggest narrative win was to kill herself for no recognition?”
Which, of course, on some level, will vary from audience member to audience member. But I think that, with the awareness of how Endgame worked, and the knowledge of exactly when this movie is coming out, they have to at least try to give her- and us- this.
It’s now 5:15 AM and this is over 4000 words long and if you’ve read all this you deserve a medal. I’m happy to clarify or expand on anything in a few hours when I get up; I know that I circled a few points rather than clearly making them, but I’m no longer even completely sure what is common knowledge and what is me projecting. Hopefully this can at least start a conversation?
ETA: And anon, I am sure no matter what happens, fanfic will have our backs.
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wewillwriteyou · 4 years
Text
Crazy Little Thing Called Love || Chapter 2
➴Meet the characters [part 2]
A few elements from the main plot: A fine line falls between fiction and reality: what starts as a musical slowly becomes a game-changer. Tables will turn and it will get clear as the sun that the only unstoppable power in life … is love.
Summary Chapter 2: The auditions begin and some unexpected students will try to get a role in the musical. In the meanwhile, new encounters happen and destiny starts to change its cards. 
Word count: 4k+
Warnings: Again, just a bit of language and nothing else. 100% safe territory for everyone. 
A/N: Get ready to meet “the rest of the crew” and brace yourselves: harmony and calm are about to end 🤫 Enjoy this chapter, folks 🖤 xxx
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Saturday, 5 October 2019
“Though, is it fair that you will have him when it is clear as the sky is blue that he is not meant to be yours?” thundered the princess.”
The sun was splendid that morning on campus and the sky was bluer than usual. It was Saturday but director Mazzello had planned auditions for his play, so Elizabeth had stopped by Gwilym’s dormitory to pick him up and walk together to the auditorium.
It had become a tradition for her and the boys to take a stroll and a coffee together before class and that day was not gonna be any different.
“Hey there beautiful” Gwilym surprised her from behind by pinching her hip and making her squeal.
“Gwil you know I hate that” she recomposed herself while he still giggled at his own shenanigans.
“Miss Grumpy didn’t sleep well last night?” he light-heartedly asked.
Elizabeth shot him a flaming look “This is all Mazzello’s fault… I stayed up late to finish editing the flyers and to read the script. He owes me at least four cups of coffee…”
Gwilym chuckled “Well if it makes you feel any better, I stayed up late too, reading the script as well… I still haven’t understood how all those characters are gonna fit into one story…”
“It’s a big mess, isn’t it?” Elizabeth sighed but ended up chuckling “I really hope he does not screw everything up…”
Gwilym agreed climbing the steps of the auditorium and keeping the door open for the girl “I’m sure he will…” he replied, “Like he always does in his specific way…”
Elizabeth giggled and playfully bumped her shoulder against his, involuntarily blushing a little.
Gwil caught her with the corner of his eye and just shook his head, smiling like a dork.
“Finally my stars are here!” Joe welcomed them as they descended the stairs of the gallery.
They both giggled “Good morning to you too, Mr. Director” Elizabeth joked and mimed a reverence.
“I like the title” Joe continued “but we’re not here to chit chat… we have a musical to create!”
“How many coffees did you drink today, Joe?” Gwilym asked, perplexed by his amount of energy.
“Like three, four?”
“It’s nine o’clock” Elizabeth intervened.
“So what?” Joe was well known for his big-headedness. “Anyway!” he continued jumping down the stage “Let me present to you, my assistant…”
He half-turned towards the stage and extended a hand, pointing at the backstage curtains, from which appeared none other than Denise.
“Hi guys” she was way calmer than Mr. Director “I promise I will make sure he doesn’t drink coffee for the rest of this semester”
Liz and Gwilym giggled at Joe’s indignation before Denise could speak again “We were thinking you could start practicing some of your lines while we wait for the actors to come in and audition”
“Sounds good” Gwilym nodded and let out a hand for Liz to take and climb up on stage.
“On stage?” she asked “Already?”
“Where else, duh?” Joe’s sarcastic comment immediately received a punch on the shoulder for the reply “Ouch”
Liz turned to Gwil again and took his hand, swiftly jumping up the stage.
She didn’t realise she was staring at him as he was reading the screenplay until she saw him waving a hand in front of her face.
“Earth to Miss James, you there?”
She shook her head “Sure, sorry, ‘was trying to focus”
What she was actually thinking was how good his hair looked that morning, that the new pair of glasses really suited him and that he had probably changed cologne cause she had never noticed how good he smelt.
Everything had passed her mind except the focus she would have needed to read lines with him.
“Relax, you okay?” he smiled kindly, placing a hand on her shoulder and making her heartbeat increase exponentially.
She just nodded, wondering what was happening to her. Gwilym had always been just her friend Gwilym, Joe’s best friend and roommate. He was studying to become a director of photography but secretly wanted to be an actor.
That was everything she ever knew.
How come were things different now?
“I’m ready” she nodded once, opening the script on her first line.
She was just about to begin when the back door of the auditorium opened and a discrete group of students made their entrance and sat a few rows behind Joe and Denise.
Joe got up and turned to face the group behind him.
“Good morning everybody, I’m Joe and I’ll be directing this play, along with my good friend Denise”
She waved at them and felt warmth spreading among her cheeks. Her friendship with Joe was growing strong by the day and she felt like she was almost ready to ask him out. Not yet, though. Almost.
“Those two you see on stage?” Joe continued and pointed at Liz and Gwil, who awkwardly waved as well, feeling like they were in an aquarium “They are the leads: Elizabeth will be our princess Hyv, the major, and Gwilym will be Hymy, the castle’s gardener”
The two on stage awkwardly smiled and walked to get down into the stalls as soon as possible.
Joe turned to the crowd again “So,” he began “let the casting begin!”
***
Alex walked fast out of her dormitory, the paper map of the campus flapping up and down in her hand, as she tried to identify the auditorium building that Elizabeth had showed just the day before.
She knew she wouldn’t have remembered half of the stuff her roommate had said during their tour of the campus.
Crap. She really didn’t want to be late but her alarm hadn’t gone off and when she’d woken up Liz was already gone and she had known instantly she was gonna be late.
“D’ you need help?”
She heard a male voice calling her as she walked past a few benches by the park. She sighed and turned around to see a blond guy, in what she assumed was the sport’s uniform of the campus, getting up from the bench to walk up to her.
“I’m looking for the auditorium” she said handing him the map.
The blond guy smiled cheekily and pointed at a bricked building across the street from the park.
“Follow that sidewalk till the bar with the green sign then turn right, the entrance is right beyond that corner” he concluded while slowly walking in the opposite direction.
Alex smiled and gave him a thumbs up “Thank you -…”
“Allen!” he shouted when he was already quite far from her.
Alex smiled again and crossed the street, walking fast in the direction the guy had just pointed her to.
***
“Alright that’s enough, thank you Edmond” Joe stopped the music and the guy stopped dancing on the spot, bowing to the first row of the auditorium and dashing back to his seat.
Elizabeth elbowed Joe, who was sitting on her right “Don’t be so rude”
Joe elbowed her back “I’m not rude. I said ‘thank you’.”
“You didn’t even let him finish the choreography!” Denise jumped into the conversation from the chair on Joe’s right.
He frowned at her “There was no point - he shrugged - he’s not the right one”
“You’re an asshole” Liz muttered under her breath, but loud enough for Joe to hear her and smile.
“Thanks Liz” he blew her a kiss and she just rolled her eyes.
“You can’t afford to be an asshole” Gwilym jumped into the conversation “He was the last one”. He was sitting on Liz’s left and when he leaned towards Joe to talk, the girl felt her heartbeat speed up again.
She’d never felt more uncomfortable sitting between her two best friends.
“The right one will come along” Joe answered promptly, without even looking at him, while writing some comments on his notebook.
Gwilym sat back on his chair, shaking his head defeated.
Liz just chuckled, shaking her head as well and for a moment she exchanged a knowing glance with the boy sitting on her left: Joe was unbelievable. Moving a mountain would have been easier than changing his mind.
“Okay people, our prince Rikk is still into question… so let’s move on and see what we have for princess Kat, the minor” Joe turned the notebook on a new page as he spoke out loud “First one up, please…”
As a bunch of girls went back and forth from the stage, Liz noticed a puff of blond, almost platinum, hair sitting at the left edge of the second row.
“Oh. My. God. - she whispered to no one in particular - Is that Lucy Boynton? What’s she doing here?”
She almost burst out chuckling. Lucy was one of the campus’s most popular girls and she was famous for not wanting to mix with ‘normal people’. Elizabeth wondered what the hell had brought her there among them.
“She’s auditioning” Joe answered all her questions, leaving both Liz and Gwilym with their chins hanging in the air. “What?” he asked.
“SHE’s auditioning? - Liz couldn’t believe her ears - for what? The evil witch of the East?”
Joe frowned and shook his head “That’s a different story, sweetie – he voluntarily used that pet name cause he knew it pissed her even more – She’s here for the role of princess Hyv” he shrugged.
“Excuse me?” Elizabeth shifted in her chair to look at him better, Gwilym behind her, was just as confused as she was.
“You let her audition for Liz’s role?” Gwilym asked naively.
Joe turned to him “Are you insane? Of course not! – Joe shook his head as if it was the craziest thing he could ever do – I’m gonna make her audition for the role of princess Kat… Only she doesn’t know yet”
“You really are an asshole…” Gwilym commented.
Joe cocked an eyebrow “Calling me names is not gonna win you a date with her…”
“What are you talking about?” Gwil snorted and turned to face the stage, pretending to ignore the fact that he knew exactly what Joe was talking about.
No matter how cruel, how spoiled, how shallow Lucy could be, he would have worshipped her anyway. He’d had a crush on her, since he had first arrived on campus and he had seen her walking out of her expensive car, sunglasses on her head and the look of someone who thinks she owns the place.
He was helpless.
“Whatever mate, - Joe huffed – think what you want, but she’ll never notice you if you don’t step out of the shadow”
“I am perfectly comfortable in my own shadow” Gwilym mumbled under his breath.
“Then accept the fact she’ll always be with Mr. Fit Hardy and go on with your life – he pointed his pen at him – but most importantly: don’t come at me with your complaining shit”
Gwilym mocked him gesturing with his hand and Liz chuckled. She always found hilarious their backbitings and there was nothing she loved more than sitting in the middle when those happened. It was like watching a tennis game.
Even though this time she couldn’t ignore the dagger of jealousy she felt stabbing her stomach when she thought of Gwilym and Lucy together. She was not right for him and Liz couldn’t figure out why did he not see that.
I might be right for him, she couldn’t help but think. She instantly shook the thought: she couldn’t let her mind wander and dream about Gwilym when she hadn’t even figured out what she would be running towards.
“Lucy – Joe’s voice awoke them both from their thoughts – you’re next”
The look of confusion was evident on her face.
“I thought I told you I would be auditioning for the lead role…” she replied with her usual abrupt manners.
“Yeah you did, but unfortunately, we already have a lead… - Joe shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head towards the redhead sitting next to him. Liz gave her a fake smile and a little wave, then Joe continued – if you’re still interested you could audition for the part of Kat, Hyv’s little sister…”
Lucy rolled her eyes “I am not here to waste my time. If you won’t give me a lead role, someone else will…” she sentenced, getting up from her chair and gesturing to the guy sitting next to her to follow her.
“Extra credits…” Joe interrupted her and she stopped on the spot, listening – you could be here for extra credits…”
Liz covered her smirk with a hand: Joe had her right where he wanted her.
He might have been an asshole, but boy was he good at manipulating the situation to his benefit.
She watched Lucy walk back on her steps and sigh “Do you have a script?”
Joe grinned “On the table on stage, dear, page 23 lines from 10 to 17”
Lucy scoffed again and got up to read the part Joe had assigned her.
Liz glanced at Joe the whole performance, watching his lips curve into a smile by the end. She knew way too well what that face meant.
“The part is yours” he simply stated once she was finished.
Lucy didn’t even seem very happy about it. She just half smiled and walked down the stage with heavy steps.
“C’mon Rami” they heard her whisper to the guy who had been waiting for her the whole time.
“Rami? – Denise called him – Rami Malek?”
He half turned to her and flashed a small awkward smile, before getting up and whispering something to Lucy’s ear. Denise was confused: did he just pretend not to know her?
Joe turned to Denise “You know him?”
She just nodded “He’s in my mom’s tip-tap class. We know each other since we were kids… Don’t understand why he pretends not to see me…”
And just like that Joe’s smirking face was back, just in time to make Liz and Gwil sigh.
“What now?” Gwil asked, tired but curious to see what he had in mind.
“Hey, you, Rami! – he recalled his attention and the guy slowly turned around, as if he already knew what he was gonna be asking – they tell me you can dance. Do you wanna audition for prince Rikk? I think you’d be good for the part”
The guy hesitated a bit, looking for an answer in Lucy’s eyes. She shrugged and sat back in her seat.
“At least I’ll have someone to talk to in this den of losers” she mumbled.
Rami sighed and got in front of the stage “What do you want me to do?”
Joe turned to Elizabeth “Liz, honey, would you show him?”
The girl blushed instantly but got up anyways, like the professional she knew she was. Performing in front of the public didn’t normally scare her, but this time she was not prepared enough and she felt like she was going to the scaffold.
“You owe me so much, Mazzello” she leaned down to whisper in his ear.
He blew her a kiss again and watched her teach a small bit of choreography to Rami. He looked at her with proud eyes and even with a little amazement… She was definitely right: he owed her so much. She had always been able to save him from the troubles he’d put himself into – the play being the latest one - and she was always good at everything she attempted at doing.
She was his best friend and his most powerful weapon.
And as he watched Rami perfectly replicate the choreography and even keep up with Liz, he knew he’d seen right all along.
“Great Rami, thanks” he said once they were finished.
He got up and looked around the auditorium: there were very few people left and the time he had booked the theatre for was almost up.
“The part is yours” he blurted out without even looking at him, just scribbling down a few notes on his pad.
Rami smiled widely. He was ashamed to admit he was very proud of himself for doing that and kinda excited about having the opportunity to actually dance in a musical. A small, low budget, college musical, but still a musical.
“Alright people – Joe spoke up again and all the students in the auditorium, sitting then and there among the rows of chairs, pricked up their ears – welcome to the cast of Nelaime”
***
Alex smashed the building’s door open and ran down the long hallway, slipping on the polished floor.
“Fuck!” she hissed between her teeth when she reached the auditorium’s entrance noticing a paper hang on it, bearing the words:
Ongoing auditions. Please do not disturb
She hopelessly sighed and let her fingers ran through her hair, already messy because of the useless running towards the campus.
“Did you come here for the musical?” a sudden voice made her jump and she immediately turned around. A tall, rather good-looking blond boy was standing on the other side the corridor with his back abandoned against the wall.
Alex recomposed herself and, after giving one last look to the closed door, she turned around and dragged her feet until she was closer to him.
“Yeah, but apparently it’s too late” a little nervous laugh escaped her lips, as she scrolled her shoulders. The boy smiled and mirrored her, sliding a little as to silently propose her to stand next to him.  
She got the hint and positioned herself with her back laid on the wall as well.
“Are you new? I’ve never seen you around the campus” he suddenly asked, turning his head to look down at her.
“Yep. ‘ve arrived a week ago and that’s, partially, the reason why I arrived nearly an hour late” Alex giggled, looking straight into his eyes.
“British, right?” he questioned again, tilting his head on the side.
“Yep again – and this time they giggled in unison – I come from the other side of the island but ‘m still one hundred percent British”
“So, West England? – he asked caressing his chin interrogatively and moving to face Alex, who nodded with a locked smiled on her lips – Bristol?”
She laughed a bit and then shook her head.
“Plymouth?” he tried again. But Alex clicked her tongue against her teeth, her smile slowly turning into a playful smirk.
“Bournemouth?”
“Bingo!” she replied, snapping her fingers. The boy closed his fists and eyes to silently exult, all under the amused gaze of Alex.
When he reopened his eyelids, the two stared into each other’s eyes for a moment both with a shy smile painted on their faces.
Alex shook her head a bit, as if she wanted to wake herself up from a trance, and looked away for a second.
“I was sure you were new, though” he shrugged, walking closer to position himself by her side again. Alex raised an eyebrow, knowing too well what a tone of that kind meant.
“Oh really?” she asked with the same flirtatious voice.
“Well, a smile like yours can’t get unnoticed for too long”
His cheeky expression didn’t last long, because they burst out laughing almost immediately as their sonorous laughter was echoing in the hallway.
“That’s how an East boy flirt, then?” Alex inquired crossing her arms on the chest and raising both her eyebrows this time. The boy rolled his eyes and chuckled again.
“Kind of. I can do better, I swear” his voice was deep and amused as he drew a cross on his heart. Alex giggled again and she felt as if she was a young girl again, being all goofy and shy around her crush.
“Can’t wait to see your secret weapons” she then said, trying to give herself a more appropriate tone that could compete with his winking attitude.
He seemed quite pleased and licked his lips, causing Alex to grin again. He nodded to himself and then followed her along giggling as well.
“And I imagine, this is how a West girl flirt?” he positioned himself in front Alex, obliging her to press herself against the wall. Instead of blushing and lowering her sight, as he expected, she smirked and sassily looked up at him.
“Maybe” she then answered, just shrugging.
“Who are you?” he asked with a smile that went from ear to ear. Alex coughed to clear her throat and he took a step back when he noticed she was extending her arm to shake his hand.
“Alexandra Piper. Nice to meet you – she stated squeezing his palm – and you are …?”
But, before he could answer, the door behind his back swung open and Alex recognized Joe followed by Denise.
“Excuse me a second! – she muffled to the blond guy, leaving him there with his lips hanging open as she approached the duo – Joe! ‘m so sorry! I know it may sound like the cheapest excuse on the planet, but my alarm didn’t – “he cut her off placing his hand on her shoulder.
“See you tomorrow at rehearsals. Teha. It’s spelled T-E-H-A if you’re wondering” Joe winked at her and walked away.
Alex turned around to see Denise’s amused face, who was doing her best to contain the laughter.
“Is he okay?” Alex asked, bursting into giggles as well.
“I won’t say it, to be honest. But hey, you got the part! So, welcome on board baby!” Denise replied opening her arms to hug Alex.
“What?! I didn’t even audition” Alex laughed walking closer to hug Denise back, who immediately embraced her and patted on her back.
“As they say: God’s ways are infinite. Who knows, maybe also Mazzello’s ways are – she said in response to Alex, distancing herself – and, to say the whole truth, he’s probably not gonna find another pianist, so I guess he had no choice”
The two started laughing, when Alex saw Elizabeth approaching. Behind her, a smiley Gwilym was already waving at her.
“Gwil! Hi” Alex said, making Denise turn around as well. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, while the tiniest sting of jealousy warmed her chest.
“Alex! ‘s been a while” he politely replied, lowering down to half-hug her with just one arm.
“Do you know each other?” Liz found herself asking, her voice slightly high-pitched, than what she expected.
“Oh, Gwil showed me the way to the dormitory last week” Alex lightly replied and Elizabeth relaxed a little bit.
What is happening to me? - the little voice inside her head asked, as she took a deep breath to recompose herself.
“Here to audition?” Gwilym asked Alex indicating the auditorium behind his back; the brunette exchanged a knowing gaze with Denise before they both chuckled again.
“Nope. You’re talking with Teha in person. Give me some respect” she said, doing a goofy bow, which caused a wave of laughter to grow inside the small group of friends.
“She’s the sorceress of Joe’s musical” Denise suggested, acting as if she was telling a secret, cupping half of her face with her right hand.
“Really? ‘m so happy you are part of this too!” Elizabeth said, jumping in Alex’s arms as usual. The girl smiled and hugged her tight.
But soon her eyes fell on the blond boy she was talking with a few moments before. He was passionately kissing a girl who could have easily be mistaken for one of Regina George’s Barbies from Mean Girls.
Elizabeth noticed Alex had tensed up and broke the embrace to look at her face. Alex looked away before Liz could intercept her gaze.
“Everything’s okay?” the redhead asked anyway, gently caressing Alex’s arm.
“Yeah, yeah. Just … who’s that guy?” she asked, indicating him with a movement of her chin. Elizabeth snapped her head on the left and immediately rolled her eyes.
“That guy – she said drawing quotation marks in the air – he’s Ben Hardy, the most cliché-boy I’ve ever met in my entire life. And you see that girl? She’s his girlfriend, Lucy Boynton. And believe me when I say that these two are meant to be together. Spoilt, frivolous and filthy rich” she ended the sentence assuming a sassy pose and crossing the arms on her chest.
Alex squared him up and felt anger bloom inside every cell of her body. And, reserving him one last outraged gaze, she coldly replied to Elizabeth’s explanation with three simple words:    
“Good to know”
-
Chapters: ⬸ previous | next ⤑
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this second chapter, folks! You’ve finally met the “other half” of the “crew” so now get ready because drama is always behind the corner! 
If you liked it: comment, reblog and like this chapter! It’s important for us to know what you think and your opinions are always appreciated. 
Cheers, folks!
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jq37 · 5 years
Note
oh my GOD the new ep!!!! like!!!!!!!!! SO MUCH happened but then also the preview for the next ep looks SO GOOD
**spoilers for first kisses and last words**
Hoo boy this was, as I predicted, a BIG one. Not that I needed to be an oracle to figure that out since there’s only a few eps left but man did it deliver.
I still think that Cool Kids, Cold Case had the most off the wall nonsense happening in the shortest period of time but this ep I think was overall the most consistently wild ep.
So let’s take it from the top.
I think I forgot to mention it before but Adaine’s, “I go into a rage,” hardcore cracked me up.
“I have hold person.”/”I stuff a sock in her mouth.” Insult to injury Adaine. 
The entire group dunking on Aelwen, forgetting that Riz is literally bleeding out, half dead.
“sausage festival” 
Adaine really was dead serious about her snitching threat huh?
Ally miming a boom mic.
I love how everyone including Siobhan mess up Aelwen’s name or mix it up with Adaine’s half the time.
And speaking of, wow. What a rise and fall for her in 3 eps (and about an hour in game time). She’s queen of the nerds. She’s not even cool at her own school. And terrified of whoever she made whatever shady deal with. I know she literally tried to kill the whole party last ep and that she’s the worst but I almost feel for her.
Almost.
“This is not on you. This is on the world within which you inhabit.”
I love Adaine’s semi-indigent, “We’re not going to kill you,” because Alwen was 100% ready to murder them which, side note, imagine how much on an international incident that would have been.
Lol at the group tag team bullying Aelwen about going to Mumple and Adaine using her magic jacket for super petty BS.
“Hey mom!”/”GodDAMMIT honey.”
The parent/kid relationships are so good in this show.
Everyone but Kristen parkouring off the roof when Sklonda specifically set up a ladder. 
“The put a girl in a palimpsest,” followed immediately by, “She went to a party,” as if those are on the same level.
Sklonda Gukgak DUNKING Aelwen into the squad car with a technical assist from Adaine. I knew she was gonna be my fave parent from her intro scene and I love her even more than I thought.
“With all due respect, (A/N: Which is none), suck my dick, fuck you.”
“She tried to murder me.”/”BE THAT AS IT IS.”
“Eh, you carry a gun.”
“No one who’s detecting maidens is a maiden.”
I feel like I’m quoting a lot today but there were so many money lines this episode. 
Everyone always loses it when Brennan starts doing the Identify spell voice and I love it. 
Adaine’s dad is T R A S H
Adaine’s mom on the other hand…I’ve been wondering about her for a little while because usually the outright emotional abuse has been from her dad while her mom is either not there or not saying anything. So I’ve been wondering was her deal is and we finally got the start of an answer. I know we only have a few eps left but I hope we go a little deeper into what exactly is going on there. It seems like Adaine’s parents are gonna be a big factor in whatever endgame is planned so fingers crossed,
Everyone cracking up as Emily backs Fig into a corner talking to Penelope. 
I love Gorgug so freaking much. Just his good natured, lumbering self. EVery time Zac opens his mouth gold falls out. 
Emily MAXED out her deception huh?
I think Siobhan must have forgotten that she took the crystal with Ostentasia away from Aelwen at the end of last ep. Either that or they willingly gave it to the cops and I forgot (but I think it’s the former because she said in this ep that it was in Aelwen’s pocket when at the end of the last ep she def took it).
My autocorrect keeps wanting me to type Ellen for Aelwen. I WISH.
I knew it! He’s a PIRATE. Suck it Fabian. (lol at Adaine stirring the pot. That was like Adaine being sincerely polite and Siobhan trying to cause problems and I love mixed motive player/character decisions). 
I wonder if the banker is named after John Hughes. 
I can’t believe the dumb bank is actually a huge plot point.
Yikes, re: Bill and Fabian. That got tense. Though I’ve kinda been waiting for some kind of blowout for a while. His dad runs very hot and cold and I figured it would only be a matter of time before we saw some of the cold.
Also, Lou breaking character in the middle of that very intense moment to clarify a plot point. 
Sidenote: For a hot sec after reading the title of the ep and remembering how Sklonda is competent to the point of (probably) breaking the original plot, I was so concerned she was gonna eat it this ep. So glad she didn’t.
Anyway, the idea of swinging sadly on a rope is so freaking funny.
Fig: Can I offer you a sad song in this trying time?
Huge portrait of Bill Seacaster in Fabian’s room. 
Adaine is gonna bring up him kissing her sister very time she needs to get out of something w/ Fabian for the rest of her immortal life. 
Another sidenote: This is a little thing but I always think it’s interesting when fantasy worlds have the same months and days as us when they’re named after like Norse Gods and Roman statesmen that wouldn’t exist in their world. Same with Roman numerals and Irish coffee. 
“Am I allowed to smoke in here?”/”Of course.”
I really like the character detail that Adaine is always really polite to everyone, including/especially people like Fabian’s maid and Basrar. People that she wouldn’t necessarily “have to” be polite to, you know? It’s like she’s trying to make up for the fact that her family is a bag of dicks. 
“Fantasy Google”
The whole bit with Fabian’s porn stash was so good. This group is so good w/ yes-adning each other.
“Privateer me a new one.” Emily is so good.
“Special investment” Suspicious  
I was thinking “I can’t believe looking at a bank’s FAQs is part of this game,” right as Brennan said it.
So I went back and watched Siobhan’s face from when Emily first mentioned Kal Vaxis to when she got the connection to KVX and it took her 22 seconds. I also missed the quick cut to Brennan when Gorgug asks, “What is Kal Vaxis,” and you can tell he knows they’re so close to breaking it with the little grin on his face. I wish we had gotten a reaction shot right after she got it. Anyway, great team solve w/ the MVP trophy to Siobhan/Adaine. 
I loved when Zac, Emily, and Siobhan all whipped out their laminated maps in tandem to figure out what was happening. 
The hard mood change from Adaine dropping the bomb about Riz’s dad and to forming a committee to help Gorgug flirt with Zelda was wild.
Kristen telling anyone to be suave is hysterical. 
What a DISASTER of a committee Gorgug’s friends are. Well meaning but so trash
Fig: Tell her you got a SICK tattoo
Adaine: Bring her to see art in the middle of the night
Fabian: You cannot date this person (Kristen: You absolutely have to)
Kristen: Actually not garbage advice but she is in no position to be giving dating advice to anyone 
Riz: Having a literal existential crisis 
“Who else is he gonna date?” WOW, savage Adaine.
I meant to say this before but I love how Adaine’s go-to is immediately ice cream and she’s always on board to go to Basrar’s. Like how when she texted everyone 2 eps ago she was like, “Let’s get ice cream now.”
Mmm, don’t love that Gorthalax isn’t answering his phone. I have been waiting for a significant adult to die for a while now.
OK, look, the whole thing about Penelope and Dayne being eternal prom king/queen. Is it wild? Yes. Is it implausible? No. No it’s not. Even Murph, most veteran player, was kind of like, “Wait, does that make sense?” Because, in this setting, it kind of would? I’m not sure it fits within the story so far and I’d have to go back and listen to the more lore-y stuff again but the conceit itself is like the exact right amount of crazy to fit in this setting? And they never cut to Brennan like I wanted so I could judge his face for any kind of tell. But anyway, you guys know I’ve been predicting a prom finale and this would fit right into a prom finale. 
The girls giving Gorgug a pep talk before his date was ADORABLE. 
Gorgug having to check his phone to remember three words, “You look nice.”
“Your friends are popular and loud” True
Zelda’s a BARBARIAN! She’s a MEGA BARBARIAN! 
I know they mean ecstasy like intense emotion but I kept thinking, like, molly.
Hmm, so Penelope wanted to know if Zelda had hooked up w/ Gorgug, ie: if she was a maiden. Can they only palimpsest maidens? Or (as we will get to later) does nice guy Biz only want virginal maidens for his creepy reverse Weird Science arcade setup?
Zelda listing off every type of metal and then Gorgug’s, “Same stuff,” was perfect comic timing on Zac’s part.
Imagine the Hangman screaming down the road on fire, Zelda completely terrified. 
I love the Hangman so freaking much.
“DO NOT GIVE TREATS TO MY MOTORCYCLE.”
I can’t believe everyone is living at the freaking crappy apartments. I knew they were all gonna end up hanging at one persons’ house but I kinda figured it would be Fabian’s house or Gorgug’s house. 
I”m also concerned about Bill. I feel like we keep getting reminded that he’s mortal a LOT.
Did Gorgug’s parents have indoor fireworks on tap for Gorgug’s first date?
Oh my God the whole docking conversation. Never play chicken with Brennan because the dude will not blink.
“We didn’t do that.” That’s his other best comic timing moment of the ep.
“Polishing my axe”
Kristen this episode 
I really wish they’d made the roll to find Ragh later in the ep. Fig is so ride or die for Gilear now and I love it.
“I fall asleep.”
Adaine almost making her parents dunk on Gilear but then pulling back.
But also, Adaine and Gilear going off the the oracle together.
“Fig pack it in.”
Affirmations with Fig and Gilear.
Fig, do you really think platonically cuddling with Kristen is the move?
Riz setting himself up for a dramatic entrance is so fantastic.
Hmm, so Biz and Zayne were attacked at the same time. That’s why that cold pill detail was in there way back. I’ve been trying to figure out what was always planned and what was quick re-working but Brennan is so good I can never really tell.
Are multiple unrelated groups just getting into palimpsests at the same time? Or mostly unrelated groups tied to one person?
“We are not gonna get our security deposit back.”
RIZ’S DAD IS JAMES BOND! YES! I didn’t know I wanted that to be the case until it happened and now that’s the only acceptable option. 
Riz didn’t get the 20′s he needed when fighting Aelwen but man he got it at the best story moment this week.
Oh man that home movie
The pearl is grey. Interesting. 
“Mom our family is so awesome Mom we’re all so badass, I thought it was just us but Dad is awesome too, why didn’t you tell me Mom?”
Sklonda: Internally screaming. 
Man he went full Inigo Montoya.
“I’ve got nimble escape so…”
“I guess we have a two bedroom,” I think was a really underrated funny line.
Did Riz ever tell his mom about the time of death thing.
Everyone inundating Gilear with overlapping chatter.
lol the Hangman likes Zelda’s family
Ally’s panicked, “FUCK” is always hilarious. 
Why are all the adults in Gorgug’s life trying to get him laid?
OK so the elementals were conjured by Aelwn’s magic Brennan said. He said by Aelwen’s magic, not by Aelwen. I wonder if that turn of phrase was specific or arbitrary. Like, we were told where Aelwen is but we don’t know. Was she forced to do it (either by threat or by magic)? Clearly someone (Biz?) is pulling her strings to at least some degree. 
“It’s probably about marriage.” “WAR HAS BEEN DECLARED.”
That happened fast
Fun fact from my International Law class: When a government kidnaps someone, it’s called rendition. 
“There’s a war, fuck school.”
Yeah it is wild that Adaine’s parents didn’t call her.
OK so did the Elves get Aelwen back but also go, “But you still need to go to jail.” Because they cut Brennan off before the end of that sentence which might have had more clues in it.
“I text my mom k”
I also wanna know who gave Kristen a slushy marg (It’s war times. I bet things are looser now)
Murph’s face when Brennan said, “Lucky Stones” was so good. That was so Riz.
S/O to Ally for pre-casting Guardian of Faith. Good instinct. 
AHHHHHH BIZ
As I said in an earlier conversation s/o to Adaine for DUNKING on him at every opportunity because he DESERVED IT. Also, her instincts for who sucks in this game have been spot on.
Another s/o to Riz for having the presence of mind to not pull a Star Lord and to pretend to be on the bad dude’s side for long enough to gain some kind of upper hand.
OK, wow was not expecting that twist. I feel like I need to go back and rewatch some stuff to get a better handle of the timeline and stuff. Like, when exactly did the girls start going missing again? And what year is Biz? Has he been masterminding this whole thing? I feel like no but I feel like he’s masterminding his own thing which happens to a puzzle piece in something bigger? BUT IT’S A PRETTY DAMN BIG PIECE. Who opened the new arcade? Is it connected to the bank?  How did Biz get involved? Who’s his supplier? Did someone hook up Biz, Daybreak, Penelope, and Aelwen with Palimpsests to do their own separate things, hoping that at least one of them would succeed which would somehow be good for the mystery person? I am so excited to find out and I really hope Brennan and the cast do a Q+A sesh after S1 is over to hash some stuff out.
Siobhan’s face when Biz said he was going after Adaine.
ALSO, you’re just gonna TELL RIZ and you wanna PUT ONE OF HIS BEST FRIENDS into a MAGIC CRYSTAL???? AND YOU THOUGHT HE’D BE ON BOARD? Like, even if he was, what about the 4 other people who are there?????
(sidenote, wild Gorgug’s parents just left them alone, no questions asked)
Theme-wise, this is the fight ep I’m most excited for. It seems rad as hell.
All that yelling in the promo for next week. Either the raddest thing possible happened or there was a TPK. There is no other option.
Wow, that was a stellar ep and this is a really long post. I really can’t wait for next week’s!
Edit: I meant to say before, is Penelope’s FB album like…a hit list? Like does whoever’s doing the actual dirty work (Biz? S/o else?) know that whoever she takes a picture with is who they should target?
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writingcroissant · 6 years
Text
Do You Remember: [Part One]
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader 
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Do You Remember Masterlist here!
Gif not mine.
Summary: You remember nothing from the past ten years that you spent working for Hydra - they wiped your memories only days before the organisation imploded - but after meeting Bucky Barnes for the first time in your new job at the Avengers facility you can't seem to get rid of the feeling that you know him from a deep, dark and violent past the two of you happen to share - but what role did he play in it?
A/N: I swear I have good stuff planned for this story. 
Also: If you want to be tagged - SEND AN ASK!!
Words: 2050
Warnings: injuries
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A little more than a month has passed since your trial, and as time goes by, you start to feel more and more comfortable in your fancy prison.
Being locked inside the Avengers facility probably is the best punishment you could've gotten, especially when the alternative happens to be a depressing little cell with an orange jumpsuit for dress code.
You have full access to comfortable common rooms, kitchens, gyms, a library, and basically everything else that comes to mind, making it completely unnecessary to ever leave the building, even if you were allowed to.
Nevertheless you spend most of your time either in your room or the infirmary. You're aware that a lot of people in this building worry you might still work for Hydra, might continue to spread their poisonous ideology, their lies, and since you're not exactly keen on having to deal with hate and animosity, you decided to avoid all the common rooms, the kitchens, the gyms, and instead focus on the only reason you're here and not behind bars: your work.
Aside from Bruce, Helen and Natasha, you never really talk to anyone that's not in need of medical aid. Tony Stark - whom you got to know a little better by now - did stop by a couple of times after some of his Iron Man experiments resulted in minor injuries and bruises. None of them ever were dangerous, leaving it pretty obvious that he only really needed an excuse to spy on you and find out what kind of person you are, what you really remember and if you lie.
He must've been disappointed when he realised that you still don't happen to remember anything. If you did, he'd certainly be the first one to know, since he insists on letting people check your notebooks on a regular basis for anything Hydra-related.
Every once in a while some memories do break through the surface, but they mostly consist of blurred pictures and single words without any form of context. You need to write down every single snippet, no matter how vague and incomplete it might be. If you didn't you'd probably forget it again.
You hate that strangers get to read those notebooks but there's nothing you could do to avoid that - it's part of the deal. They keep an eye on you and you get to do what you're good at. Maybe there's still that little part of you, thinking you could make things better, compensate whatever terrible things you did in your past by helping as many people as you can with your work here.
Today however, people seem to get injured a lot less than usual. There are no accidental shot or stab wounds, no bruises and no check-ups. Nobody overdid combat training and nobody injured themself while testing new equipment, designed by Tony Stark himself. It's suspiciously quiet and apparently Natasha decided that you could use a minor break after working nonstop for the last few weeks, which is the main reason you're now diving your chopsticks into a Chinese takeout box.
"So, tell me about the team", you say, eyes glued to your food as one of your crossed legs bounces up and own, your heel only dangling from your toes to give your feet some kind of rest.
You can see a corner of Natasha's mouth pull into a smirk, amusement glistening in her eyes. "Took you long enough to ask that question", she mumbles, leaning her elbow on the lab table behind her seat, chopsticks stuck between two fingers.
You laugh through your nose. "Guess I sometimes forget I'm at the Avengers facility." You shrug a shoulder after swallowing a new bite of noodles. "I see a shockingly small amount of heroes wander the hallways and Tony is the only Avenger who got injured ever since I came here."
Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn't the staff be comparatively safe and free from injuries, while the actual Avengers break bone after bone in breathtakingly dangerous fights to the death?
"I guess we're good at dodging injuries." Natasha shrugs it off and goes back to your original request, the smirk back on her face. "So what, you want me to gossip you through each member of the team?"
"I guess that depends on how you define 'gossip'."
For a moment she seems to think closer about what to tell you, absentmindedly taking a bite of a spring roll with her gaze pensively glued to the floor, before she points the tip of her chopstick towards you, lips pursed.
"Captain America - ever heard of him?"
You roll your eyes. "I know their names, Natasha. I want to know the good stuff - tell me about their abilities!"
She shrugs and tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear before she pulls one leg up to her seat, folding it below her body. "Well, Cap's a super soldier, he's fast and strong and always wants to do everything right", she continues to explain, a smug grin on her lips as she seems to think about the Captain's good-guy tendencies. "Clint's extraordinarily skilled with bow and arrow." She pauses again, her attention back on the noodles.
As she starts speaking again, you listen carefully to her words with the intention of finding out a bit more about the people you're surrounded by. "Tony mainly works with his machines, you shouldn't make the mistake of reducing him to just his suit though, and Thor ... well Thor is a god. The god of thunder to be specific."
"What about Dr Banner?", you ask. You always wondered what his abilities might be, what makes him an indispensable part of the Avengers organisation, yet you never dared to ask him personally, fearing you could overstep a line - the line separating you from every other person in this building, the line drawn by Hydra.
Natasha lowers her gaze back down to her food and suddenly seems a lot more serious, even though a slight smile still is undeniable. "He's ... a great scientist and a lot stronger than it might seem."
Sudden chaos echoes through the infirmary and Natasha goes into defence mode before you even fully realise what's happening. You flinch as the door to this room flies open with enough force for the doorknob to bang against the wall, revealing two men, one of which you pretty quickly manage to identify as Captain America himself. His blonde hair is ruffled and as dirty as the rest of his uniform, and there's something close to panic in his blue eyes as he looks at you, asking you to help the man next to him, whom he all but dragged here with one of the man's arms wrapped around his neck.
In an instant the Chinese food seems forgotten as you let it drop to a nearby table and move to make space on the operating table in the centre of the room, by throwing most of the stuff blocking it to the ground with a clash.
"What is it?", you ask, as Natasha helps the Captain heave the groaning man onto the table, while you swirl around to press the button that'll alert Doctor Cho on the other side of the infirmary, before washing and sanitising your hands.
"Shot wound, lower abdomen", Natasha states matter-of-factly, before the Captain even has a chance to open his mouth. Within just a few seconds she switched from lunch-gossip Natasha to Shield agent Romanoff and you can't help but be impressed.
Helen and two of her nurses soon burst through the door as well and you're just about to talk about the anaesthetic, when the bleeding man on your table interrupts. "Nah, forget the anaesthetic, just get the bullet out." He groans as he shifts on the table and numerous pairs of eyes land on him.
Helen always keeps that perfect poker face upright while you continue to prepare the necessary tools, she manages to stay just as objective as Natasha.
"That'll hurt, Sergeant Barnes", she warns him, and you feel a spark of curiosity in your chest as she speaks his name. You've heard that name at your trial - Tony Stark mentioned him in reference to your amnesia and the electroconvulsive therapy.
"S'not that big a deal. Just get it out", he growls, sounding almost annoyed at the situation. He certainly doesn't seem nearly as panicked as you thought he would, given his condition and the look on the Captain's face when he dragged him in here.
Helen throws you a glance, telling you to do as he says and go ahead, since she isn't sanitised yet. Her nurses lock Sergeant Barnes to the cardiogram and a rhythmic, and surprisingly steady bleeping starts to echo through the room. You step next to him, surgical mask on your face and scalpel in your hand. From a medical point of view you're perfectly prepared in every way necessary - yet nothing comes even close to preparing you for the very moment you lay your eyes on the man on the table.
From one moment to the next your breath gets stuck in your throat and a frown appears on your face as a dozen pictures flash in front of your eyes, almost blurring your sight around the edges. Fuzzy memories fight their way to the surface and you see a silver metallic gleam, a black muzzle and a bright red star, blinding you like the sun.
It's dark, a single lamp illuminates the room, but nevertheless you manage to see a sickbay and your bloody hands holding on to a scalpel for dear life as they're unable to stop from shaking. It's freezing cold and the ear-piercing sound of someone screaming shoots right through you, numbing your senses and letting you freeze right into place. You remember the feeling of your cramping heart, the feeling of hot tears break their way over your freezing cold cheeks as you stare into the barrel of a gun and another wave of male screams cuts through the air.
Your breathing increases in speed as the gaze of two steel blue eyes pierces you with an expression equally as horrified as your own.
You suddenly feel dizzy and your entire body flinches as someone shakes your shoulders, making your whole world spin as Natasha spins you around to look at her. Her words sound like you're under water, or maybe there's cotton in your ears. Whatever it is, you don't understand her and force yourself to focus. With every passing second her words get clearer.
"What?", you mumble, disorientation making your head spin. The sudden emptiness of your hand hits you in a wave of realisation, and you unsuccessfully search for the scalpel - it was in your hand just a second ago, wasn't it?
Nat releases a breath and takes her hands off your shoulders. "Dr. Cho has it", she answers the question you didn't speak out loud.
You look around and find yourself trapped behind glass walls, shielding you from the operating theatre which now only contains Sergeant Barnes, Helen and her two assistants. Weren't you in there only a moment ago?
"What happened?", you ask, a weirdly numbing calm making your skin tickle.
You hear a scoff coming from the redhead. "Well, apparently you decided to spontaneously turn into a pillar of salt and let Bucky bleed to death."
Your eyes widen and you spin around to look at Natasha, who looks more confused than angry.
"I didn't- ... who's Bucky?"
"The guy with the shot- ... do you even listen to me?"
You turn back around, utter chaos in your head as you watch Helen let the bullet drop into a little metal bowl. A gleam draws your attention a bit more to the right and your eyebrows twitch closer together as your eyes travel along a shiny arm prosthesis made entirely out of metal. It's black with golden streaks and not even close to the image of silver and red in your head, yet you still feel like you know it.
"Bucky." You narrow your eyes ever so slightly and move your face just a little closer to the glass. "I think I remember him."
Read [Part Two] here!
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Text
I'll Run To Your Rescue
Summary: From the moment I was old enough to make my own decisions, I knew I wanted to be a profiler. I did everything possible to make this dream happen. Now I can say I have made it. I have been working with the FBI under their Behavioural Analysis Unit for the past 4 years. I have worked many cases since my debut but none as gruesome as this.
Ships: James Anderson x Kayla Anderson (OFC)
Characters: James Anderson, Kayla Anderson (OFC), Sam Anderson, Aaron “Hotch” Hotchner, Derek Morgan, David Rossi, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Dr. Spencer Reid
Word Count: 2561
Warnings: angst, some fluff at the end
Authors Notes - Background information about the main character: My name is Kayla Anderson. I am 27 years old and have been married to my wonderful husband, James Anderson, for the past 4 years. We lived together while we dated in Chicago, so we could be close to his family, and I could gain a friendly relationship with his younger brother Sam, who is basically my best friend. We met when I was 20 and began living together at 22. After an unnerving accident, we decided to get married and move to Quantico, Virginia, as far away from Chicago as we could when I was 23. And then I started my new job at the BAU.
*This song fits perfectly with the end of the fic*
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“Don’t get comfortable, we just got a new case,” Derek came down into the common area, reporting case news from Hotch. Four years with the BAU and I never get tired of helping people. The job may be gruesome but putting these bastards away makes it better; even if my husband James worries 24/7. “Where we headed, Derek?” Reid dragged me from my thoughts. “Chicago”.
On the plane, Hotch began to explain the current information. We know that there have been 8 victims, consisting of 4 couples and that there isn’t much to connect them otherwise they would have called us earlier. All the men were shot to bleed out slowly while the women were tortured. ‘This guy is one sick bastard’ is all I could think to myself, while Hotch finished up. Eventually, the plane landed and we arrived at the local police station; this is where I come in handy. It just so happens that one of my brothers-in-law works here.
“Hey Sam!” I greeted him cheerfully. “Kayla? What are you doing here? FBI stuff?” “Yah, Sam… FBI stuff” I rolled my eyes, “We’re here to work the ‘murdered couples’ case.  This is obviously the work of a serial killer and that’s where we come in.  We can use any help you can give us.” Every time we went into a new police station it was a different reaction. Some loved having us here so they wouldn’t have to deal with the usual gruesomeness that is serial killer victims, and others were insulted that we didn’t believe they could solve the case on their own. In this case, I knew Sam so there wasn’t a problem.
Sam gave us a room and boards, and we started brainstorming the information. Rossi, Hotch, and Derek went to the crime scene to investigate while JJ, Reid and I stayed behind to find some similarities and create a basic profile. “The victims didn’t frequent the same places, they didn’t work anywhere near each other or in jobs that would have made them cross paths at some point in their life… there is nothing that I can see that connects any of these victims.” JJ said in a huff. It may have been slightly pessimistic, but she was right. On the outside, there was nothing that connected these people. “Oh my God” I said quietly in shock. “Look at their faces; complexion, hair length and colour, eye colour, all the victims are white-Caucasian?” I explained. “They all look alike. This means the victims aren’t picked at random! He stalks them first to see if the couple matches the physical description that he hates.” Reid was getting somewhere.  “But how is he finding people that look exactly like this. Not only do the wives look similar but the husbands do too. What are the odds?” JJ piped in.  “I don’t know, but we need to find out.”
“Thanks, Kayla. Great start. I’ll let you know if we find something at the crime scene.” Hotch ended the call and informed Derek and Rossi of our findings. They hadn’t really found anything useful about the first, second, or third victims at their houses, and now they were at number four. Again, the same thing. The usual lovely home, well-furnished and clean. They were kind neighbors and it’s a shock that anyone would want to do this to them. No one saw anyone suspicious outside the home or in the neighborhood, and no one heard anything the night they were killed. Inside the house, Rossi was explaining, “from the amount of blood and destruction, it’s obvious that the unsub doesn’t care about the victims… but since he spends a large amount of time with them before they die, he seems to know them…” “or whatever he sees them as.” Derek finished. “All the victims look the same, its possible that he’s not torturing them because he knows them specifically, but that he sees them as someone else.  Maybe a couple that pissed him off, or parents that hurt him.”  Derek was onto something, this sick bastard was looking for couples that resemble the things he hates most, and this will continue until he is able to hurt the original couple. “Considering the ages of the couples, I don’t think they represent his parents, but maybe some friends, maybe he’s a jealous lover who was rejected one-too-many times?” Rossi concluded but Hotch new it was time to go back and reconvene with the rest of the team.
“That makes sense, but how are we supposed to find out how he is finding his victims? The murders are not far enough apart to warrant him just sitting in a coffee shop or restaurant and waiting for the perfect person. He’s bouncing all around Illinois.  The first victim was from Springfield, the second from Des Plaines, and the third and fourth from Chicago.” JJ inquired, and again she would have been right again if we didn’t have a sassy computer woman back home in Virginia. “Garcia, talk to me baby girl” of course Derek has her on speed-dial… “find anything about our unsubs picking pattern?”  If anyone was gonna figure out how this guy does what he does, its Garcia. She had determined that in each of the small gated neighborhoods that the victims lived in, there had been a new move-in a few days before. The name was different every time and very fake but we figured it out. “While Garcia works on identifying them, were ready to give the profile.” With that Hotch left to the room to get Sam to gather all the officers.
“A profile is a way for us to further search for this person without having an actual ID. We now feel we have suitable enough evidence to attempt to track this person down.” While the gang was out giving the profile, I couldn’t go out just yet. There was something about the victims that struck a nerve in me. They’re looks. My phone went off and I looked down to see an old “just checking in” text from my wonderful husband, James, that came in 5 hours ago. I felt bad for not answering but he knew that the job kept me busy.  I would look at the picture of us that I have as the lock screen on my phone just to remind me of the good in the world.  As I looked at James’ beautiful face, something wasn’t right. Hold on, I thought as I held the picture of us up next to the first victims, then the second, then the third and fourth. Ho…ly….shit. All the couples look like me and James?!? I frantically typed his number into my phone and called. Eight rings…. no answer. ‘dammit’ I tried again. Eight rings… no answer. Son of a bitch. James was going to a conference in Illinois for the toy company while I was gone. I completely forgot how close he was gonna be. Why the hell would someone want people that look like us. I don’t think I know of anyone that would want us dead. The gang returned and we went over the profile again, now knowing that the unsub was most likely looking for me and James. I got Sam to put an APB out on James and to call me if he found anything.
The profile was simple… The unsub is a white male between the ages of 25 and 40. He is a loner is his everyday life and most likely works a menial job.  He finds his victims through popular neighborhoods in which the neighbors would communicate with each other frequently. These murders do not seem sexually charged which means that these couples would represent friends that hurt him in some way, and not a scorned lover. He choses victims that are young couples, between the ages of 20 and 30. We believe that he is living out some fantasy of how he would hurt the people who hurt him, which means at some point, he would be going after me and James. “What if he has James?” I was beginning to panic. This is not what I wanted from this job. “I figured he’d be in prison by now?”
“When James and I lived in Chicago, I was almost 22 and he was 24. We had found this nice house in a lovely neighborhood. Everyone was always friendly… you know, the kind that invites you over for coffee just because. It was nice. Until this guy moved into the neighborhood with his young daughter.  We went to introduce ourselves and welcome them to the neighborhood and right then we could tell there was something off about him. He was 32 and his daughter was 8. He looked like he had a temper problem that got him in a couple of fights but he would always cower under them and get the shit kicked out of him. It almost looked like he was taking his pain out on his daughter. She was really skittish all of the time. One day, I was taking the dog for a walk when I heard something crash to the floor coming from his house. I went to look in the window and his daughter was crying, there was a dead drug dealer on the floor, and he was holding a kitchen knife, trying to clean it off and hide the body. What kind of sick fuck lets his daughter see that.  I went to the cops right away but he had enough time to clean the house. The only thing I could prove was that he was hitting his daughter and that she was unsafe in his house. Child protective services took her away to a home that would love her. After that we would see random things happen, something of ours would go missing, we would come home to a house that someone had obviously broken into. It got too much and we decided to move. I had been offered a job with the FBI and that was the perfect excuse to get out of there. I never thought he would follow us.”  I had never told anyone but James that story.  “His name is Henderson Sonali.”
Just as they called Garcia to get some more info, James called my phone.  I got Hotch’s attention and answered the call, knowing full well it wouldn’t be James on the other end, but Sonali trying to taunt me. “Hello?” I answered the call. It was quiet for longer than usual.  “Hi… bitch. Miss me? You thought moving away would stop me from getting to you?” Sonali was a sick son of a bitch who was motivated by the loss of his child to Children’s Aid. “I know you have James and I’m willing to bargain with you… let’s talk, just please don’t hurt him.” All that could be heard was laughing on the other end. “You take my daughter away from me, the only thing I had and you have the audacity to ask me to spare your husband?!? It not gonna happen but I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you die with him. Come find me and you can die together.” This guy was serious, it was making you nervous thinking about James being alone with him. “Let me talk to James, I want proof that he’s alive.” I probably shouldn’t have asked that… “I’ll show you proof.” And with that he hung up. I was in utter shock, trying to hide my tears from the team. They were trying to console me but it wasn’t working, my brain was going to worst case scenarios. Broken out of my thoughts, a mailman came to the room, the police let him in. He asked for me specifically and handed me an envelope. Inside: a man’s wedding band. “Is it James’?” Reid asked. “’In perpetuum et unum diem’”  they all looked at me confused as to what I was saying, except Reid. “It’s Latin… ‘forever and a day’.” Reid explained. “That’s the inscription on our rings. This is definitely his.” I said through teary eyes.
Garcia was able to find an abandoned building that Sonali inherited when his parents passed away.  The perfect place for a sewing shop when his parents owned it and for hiding bodies and torturing people now.  We came up quietly, not wanting to startle him. We searched around, not knowing where in this building they would be. I went alone down this corridor. I started to hear voices, two males, one in distress. “If I die I today I only have one regret: not flipping you off more when I had the chance.” I could hear James taunting Henderson. ‘Dammit James don’t give him a reason to hurt you’. He knew you were coming and was prepared when you kicked the door open and announced yourself. “Henderson Sonali! FBI! Drop your weapon!” James looked ecstatic but tired. Thankfully he only had minor cuts and bruises. “I knew you’d show up. Have a seat and die together. That is the only deal I will make with you, Agent Anderson.” There was no way that I was making a deal with this asshole about anything. “Oh that’s cute… You thought I came alone.” As the words came out of my mouth, Sonali raised his weapon and the rest of the BAU and Sam burst through the windows and doors, taking him down in a wave of bullets.  I quickly went to untie James. Once standing, I was frantically checking him for injuries, “are you sure you’re okay?” And he was, thankfully. I couldn’t stop hugging him. Feeling his arms wrap me up was something I thought I’d never feel again.
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citadelofoldtown · 6 years
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Despite the clickbaity image, there are a ton of very interesting ideas in this video that would’ve made Season 7 of Game of Thrones a hell of a lot better purely as a standalone work (to say nothing about how much more asoiaf-y it would’ve made it), and he actually makes a pretty compelling argument for why and how Bronn should have been killed in Season 7 of Game of Thrones.
Below the cut are my thoughts on the video to keep this post nice and tidy.
I won’t go as far to say that I think this version of the seventh season would’ve made for great Game of Thrones, but considering the most common complaint about Season 7 was that it felt like your typical fantasy series, I definitely think it’s fair to say that it would’ve made for an awesome typical fantasy show.
He does make the fairly reasonable point that this all seems a lot easier from an arm chair perspective, and he’s not entirely wrong (especially with regards to what he has to say about the adventure north of the Wall), but an important point to remember is... all of the ideas they actually had started at the armchair level as well.
Maybe they couldn’t have added all the extra dragon stuff to the adventure north of the Wall due to all the other huge set pieces they did (such as the Battle of Casterly Rock and the destruction of Dany’s fleet at the hands of Euron Greyjoy), but really... those didn’t exactly add much to the story in the first place, and they didn’t seem particularly bothered making the Reach crumple like a piece of paper when challenged on the field happen entirely off screen. They could’ve, I don’t know, shortened the screentime Drogon got in the baggage train attack to do the special effects for more dragon stuff in the north of the Wall plot or something like that.
What he suggests about Jaime would’ve taken a lot of other work (not exactly more work, but different) to produce, but a lot of the stuff he suggests about changing Cersei and Dany’s motivation to more character (and, frankly, character flaw) driven ones would’ve only required different dialogue in scenes they actually shot. (And, remember, he’s talking about the characters of Cersei and Dany as presented in the show. I’m well aware that the book version of Dany is nowhere near as overconfident as he’s implying, but the Dany of the show kind of is.)
Really, the major problem this guy’s ideas have, for me, is that... a lot of the deaths he suggests would just feel like doing it for the shock value. Not because they actually were, even, because he suggests all the deaths for very good reasons, but because so many of the show-specific deaths, especially in seasons 5 and 6, were either character gut-punches (Grenn and Pyp) or cutting Gordian Knots (like Olenna and Doran, who now that I think about it, did not need to be killed at all because Dorne would’ve sided with Dany even if Ellaria’s inexplicable coup hadn’t happened, and we would’ve gotten more Alexander Siddig on top of it.). But that’s really more of a problem with the writing in the previous two seasons than this guy’s suggestions.
In the end, I think the problems of Season 7 boil down to one major thing (that he correctly identifies): They put way more focus on visually impressive huge setpiece action scenes than explaining why those visually impressive huge setpiece action scenes were the outgrowths of the internally consistent motivations of well-written, fleshed-out, and emotionally complex characters. That’s why people like A Song of Ice and Fire.
For all the showrunners seemed to think the White Walkers were secondary to the real plot of the War of the Five Kings, they sure did a hell of a lot better job adapting it to screen, because so much more of it makes for visually impressive action. But in the hands of a talented writer like George R. R. Martin, I feel fairly confident in saying people would still love A Song of Ice and Fire even if it was absolutely nothing but the War of the Five Kings plot. No magic, no dragons, no epic fantasy scale that makes no sense if you think about it for even a moment (I swear I want to make a massive rant about little sense the Eyrie makes as a military fortification one day), none of that. Just a story about dudes with swords and horses fighting a war to decide who’d be king.
Would it be as good as the three-pronged epic fantasy story Martin is giving us? That probably depends on who you’d ask. I’d most likely like it even more, because I like the Wot5K storyline far more than Dany or the Wall (even though I’m well aware that the War for the Dawn is the most important storyline narratively), and allowing Martin to focus all his efforts on that one storyline would just make it all the more fleshed out and well-realized, but that is one hundred percent my personal taste.
However, would it still make for an amazing fantasy book? I believe so. Unlike a lot of fantasy and sci-fi, ASoIaF isn’t just a strong premise that people will tolerate subpar writing to enjoy, it’s... actually a fairly typical premise (or rather, several of them, mashed together) with amazingly strong technical writing. I could go on a huge history nerd rant about the inaccuracies in the arms and armour (and probably will some day), the cultures of Essos (pretty much all of them, except perhaps Braavos), or how Rhaegar Targaryen should be more like Charles II of Spain than literally any historical personages he might’ve been based on due to the amount of inbreeding in his genetics, but I’ll be damned if the story and characters aren’t so well written.
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crimsonrevolt · 6 years
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Congratulations Taylor you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Marlene McKinnon!
↳ please refer to our character checklist
I’m so happy that you decided to apply for someone fresh, Taylor! Your application for Marlene was deep and thought through and left me with a very clear picture of how you were planning on portraying her. I could tell how much work you’d put into thinking through her past (specifically in this rp) and how it could potentially shape her future. I love how many different roads there are to her journey, and how you completely embraced the fact that she’s a less stable character than many we have in the rp. I can’t wait to see what you do with her and to witness you bring her to life within the rp! *your faceclaim change to Madelaine Petsch has been accepted!
application beneath the cut (tw: Torture, Kidnapping, PTSD, mentions of Eating Disorders)
OUT OF CHARACTER
INTRODUCTION
It’s Taylor! 18 (almost 19, geez.), CST, female pronouns!
ACTIVITY
Erg… normally, I’d say a 6-7/10, weekly. I can post some every week unless something comes up.
TRIGGERS
*removed for privacy
HOW DID YOU FIND US?
I’ve been here nearly a year now!
WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?
Oh man, uh – Ron. I do get angry and jealous, especially with those I love, but I would like to think I have a strong sense of loyalty for my friends. But there’s also a lot of deep-rooted insecurity and fear that he’ll never amount to the greatness of others that I really relate to, especially recently.
ANYTHING ELSE?
Ya’ll are angels. Pass it on.
Also, said I’d put in a new app to stick around, so here it is!
IN CHARACTER
DESIRED CHARACTER
Marlene Isadora McKinnon
FACE CLAIM
Madelaine Petsch. Or, Sasha Pieterse.
REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER
When looking through the open characters, Marlene was one that I kept coming back to. She’s one of the first Marauder era characters I ever had a true fascination with, although I’ve always done my admiring from afar, instead of taking the chance to play her myself. There’s something about her that’s so fascinating to me - after all, the McKinnon family is killed personally by Voldemort himself; but why? Surely, he’s capable of sending his followers to take care of anyone he deems a threat. So what made Marlene and her family so special to be sought out personally, by the darkest wizard of the time?
Aside from that, the skeleton here for Marlene leaves so much to be considered, and honestly I’m amazed she hasn’t been taken yet. There’s so much about  her that is left to be discovered and explored, especially in wake of the torturous kidnapping she endured at the hands of Voldemort already. The sort of pain he inflicts is bound to leave psychological marks, the sort of which can never truly be brought back from. Any return from trauma is something that can happen in many ways  - some people use it as strength, using it to build themselves into better, less fragile versions of themselves. Others use it as a way to be broken down, never returning from the brink of agony; and then there are those who fester in it, putting on a face, pretending as if nothing ever happened in the first place. The latter of which is where Marlene falls.
She wasn’t always that way; no, as a child Marlene was a wild card. That much hasn’t changed with age. She was a very bubbly, charismatic girl, someone willing to jump in head first, make friends first, ask questions second. Her addictive personality was something that could be pulled in only by her beloved twin Marcus, the true heart walking around outside her body. He was always the one person Marlene adored without reason, or promise - some may say her affections toward him were obsessive or unhealthy; but in their Pureblooded family, Marcus McKinnon was the only one to truly love her. The one to remind her that her gender and personality were not reasons to be hated. She loves him for that, more than she loves herself - but in the wake of her trauma, it’s so hard to let him in.
Trauma has become a very pivotal part of Marlene, but don’t be fooled; that is not all she is. Her addictive personality once manifested in terms of nothing but having a good time - now, it has personified into an eating disorder and a drinking problem. Coping mechanisms are how she chooses to handle it, never allowing anyone to see the habits she’s fallen into. Aside from that, so much of her personality just speaks to me. The woman she is, is someone I can relate to very much, in many ways - she’s essentially just a child, who has had to endure so much agony and terror with no choice. It’s broken her beyond relief, but she’s a phoenix, trying to rebuild herself in the ashes, find a way to exist. There is so much to the woman that is so utterly fascinating, so many paths she could travel down in respect to finding a way to not only survive the war, but to exist with the battle scars she continues to be inflicted with.
PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS
Marlene identifies as a pansexual female. Sex isn’t something she gives much thought to; if it happens, cool, but she doesn’t put many labels to it. As far as she’s concerned, life is too short to put much thought into who she shares a bed with. As for her gender, she truly hasn’t ever given it much thought; never has Marlene ever felt like anything other than a girl. It’s simply what she is.
CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:
Aesthetic 1
Mock Blog
Playlist:
Trouble - Natalia Kills - absolutely her theme song Learn your lines, get your story straight, Broken bottles gonna seal your fate Happiness is just a glass away, I’m trouble Good Time Girl by Scouting for Girls You took me in and shook me up inside. You got the stuff, the stuff that drives me wild. Carmen by Lana Del Rey She said ‘you don’t wanna be like me- Don’t wanna see all the things I’ve seen.’ Hurricane - Halsey I’m a wanderess, I’m a one night stand Don’t belong to no city Don’t belong to no man I’m the violence in the pouring rain I’m a hurricane
Just One Yesterday by Fall Out Boy Anything you say can and will be held against you And now I’m here to give you all my love So I can watch your face, as I Take it all away
IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE
♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: “Well. I’m shit with names, so we’re not going to do that, but– a spell to fix hangovers. Not somethin’ many people would find ‘practical’ these days, I know, but bloody hell if it wouldn’t make things easier sometimes.”
♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:
“Obviously I’d want Marcus. If I’m going into that place, there’s nobody I want by my side than my brother. No bloody idea what I’d take though - wait, I take it back, I’d want my broom. Just because I’m in the forest doesn’t mean I’ve got to trample along the ground waitin’ for those damn spiders, yeah?”
♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make? “The sort that take time - ‘least, that’s what I’m told. Guess I’m impulsive.”
♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? “I went down without a fight. Call me a crazy bitch all you want, Merlin knows people do; but don’t say I was a coward.”
WRITING SAMPLE
TW: mentions of torture, kidnapping, and PTSD
When Marlene’s eyes opened, she had no idea where she was; she couldn’t move and her head felt as if it had been filled with static. It was as if all of her senses had been taken from her; she had no idea as to where she was, or what the date was. Any memory of what had happened to get her into the blind situation she seemed to have been put into were gone; the last thing she was capable of remembering was…gone. There was nothing.
A strong and horribly unpleasant burning filled her throat and spread to the back of her skull then, and a sharp wail of pain escaped from her before she could process the pain that shot through her. Pain welled behind her eyes and took away the already slight amount of vision that she had managed to regain. Breathing suddenly became very difficult, and Marlene became all too aware of the fact that her wrists had been shackled to a wooden chair by metal cuffs as her lungs began to feel as if they’d collapse unto themselves at any minute.
Memories began to flood through her mind then, incoherent and frazzled, none making any sort of sense in the sense that she was seeing them. Her eyes were shut and stinging from the tears that had sprung to the surface in her current pain-filled state, but she could see every memory flooding her mind clearly. As much as the physical pain seemed to be out to kill her, the things that had begun to go through her mind were much worse.
“What is happening to me…” The thought was fleeting, as it went through her mind, and another pain shot through her entire body, radiating throughout every limb and causing her to scream out in pain again. It was a feeling much like burning, and Marlene could barely form a feasible thought for what had begun to happen to her, let alone try and begin to figure out where the pain was coming from.
Pain continued to shoot through her, numbing her, until eventually the pain dissipated altogether and she drifted off back into unconsciousness.
Day 2 |
The next time that Marlene awoke — that she was aware of, anyhow — everything in her mind was hazy. She couldn’t remember what was real and what she had seen while she was unconscious; she knew for a fact, however, that she hadn’t slept in a day, at the very least. The burning had stopped sometime within the last twenty-four hours and had instead turned into a dull ache that had never gone away.
At some point during what Marlene could only assume had to have been a day, she had been untied from the wooden chair she had been forcibly spent the better part of two days strapped to, though she had yet to be released from the room she was still being held prisoner inside of. Her eyesight had returned at some point after the burning had stopped, and with that, she had managed to see that there was no way out of the dirt hole that she’d been trapped in; of course, there were doors somewhere, so she knew it had to in fact be some sort of room, but from where she was forced to be standing, there was absolutely nothing but dirt and mud all around.
There had to be doors. That much, at least, she was nearly positive of, if nothing else. How else would she have been released from the chair? How else would she have seen….but had that happened? She couldn’t remember. The line between things that had happened and the things she’d taken to imagining whenever she slipped into unconsciousness was becoming more and more blurry by the day, so much that it was nearly impossible for her to remember which things had happened even before she had ended up…wherever she had ended up.
The next day, it only got worse, as that was the day that she began to recognize the faces of the people who’d come to see her. It was the day that the physical pain became nothing on that of the pain she began to feel in her heart, the weight of which had suddenly become more unbearable than it had when she was a little girl, when she had become a disappointment. No, this was much worse than that.
Marcus appeared first. Then, her parents, James. Over and over again, until the words and the disappointment and the unbearable realization that not a single one of them truly had ever loved her or was proud of her, hit her with enough power that she doubled over. The weight of it all made her collapse, falling against the muddy floor without a second thought. The voices continued to get louder, the disappointment swallowing her whole, and her hands went to clutching at her head, nails digging into her scalp in a way to force her to focus on another kind of pain, on anything other than what she was hearing every person she had ever loved say , the words getting louder and louder by the minute.
Time continued to pass, feeling like hours, and then days, when in reality it had only been a couple of minutes. Marlene’s breathing became more and more labored as she attempted to stable and calm herself, to convince herself that none of what she was hearing inside of her head was true—but it didn’t work. The more she fought to ignore the noise in her head, the louder it got. Hot, fresh tears continued to leak out of her eyes, despite how tightly she had them shut, and eventually, she couldn’t keep the pain suppressed anymore. She let out a long and hollow, high pitched wail of pain that managed to block the noise out momentarily, before it came back altogether, this time bringing the burning with it.
When she came to again, it was thanks to her own screams. Her throat felt raw and as if it was on fire, her screams becoming more and more hoarse and hollowed with every wail that she released. Despite how dark her hole was, her time locked inside had allowed her to become used to the darkness—and she saw the blood that smeared her skin with perfect clarity, despite the darkness and her tired, drained mind. Her entire body felt as if it was made of lead, and then the voices came back again. They became louder and louder, the sounds swirling together inside of her head, while the red stains that streaked across her and mixed with the dirt stained onto her skin stood out more and more vividly with each passing moment.
The burning returned then, more vividly than before, and Marlene’s lungs began to feel as if they had stopped functioning altogether yet again. The pain all of a sudden blasted back into her, just as intense and horrible as it had been in the beginning, until eventually, she cradled her head in her hands again, paying no attention to the dirt and blood that inevitably was tainting the fair color of her hair.
A sharp, high pitched scream of agony shot out of her, so unlike the screams she’d grown accustomed to hearing herself make in the long hours in the hole. Hot tears of pain flooded out of her again, so much that it nearly surprised her—of would have, if she could feel surprise anymore. The pain grew more and more unbearable, breaking her down more so than it had before, until eventually the wailing died down and the final piece that had kept her sane until then broke. Then, she drifted back off into the darkness that came with the unconsciousness that she’d grown so familiar with.
… And then she woke up. Sweat matted long tendrils of hair to her face, salty tears swelling in her eyes as her frame shot up. Thick blankets were soaked through and clung to her legs, a reminder that she could never escape. “Bloody hell, McKinnon.” She mumbled, throat closing again. “Not again.”
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