day two ❅ cause i’m mrs. snow, til death we’ll be freezing

don’t cry snowman, don’t leave me this way, a puddle of water can’t hold me close, baby

day one ❅ day two ❅ day three | series masterlist

character: todoroki touya | dabi

genre: smut + angst

notes: weeee yay day two!! touya + co go ice skating :) this, again, was not supposed to be as long as it is, but eh here we are!! | title credit: snowman by sia

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), drug use, very rough sex, public sex, generally toxic relationships, size difference, tense family dynamics, reader’s probably a lil too obsessed with touya’s cum, slight dacryphilia, slight degradation

words: 8.3k

synopsis:

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side.

    ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅           ❅     

The wind howls gently, picking up swirls of snow and dusting it against the window, the snowflakes soft taptaptap’s echoing among the tiny bedroom. It’s grey but bright outside, the morning of December 22nd. Strands of hair stick to your cheeks and neck, chills erupting across your skin as you wiggle around beneath Touya’s heavy arm, laying across your waist in a loose grasp, your movements causing the blanket to slip from your clammy skin, a soft hiss spit through your teeth as the cool air of the room hits your heated skin. Touya’s got his head buried in the pillow, his torso laying half on top of yours, legs intertwined.

“Touya-nii,” you whimper, eyebrows furrowing a little in frustration as you struggle under him. “Niichan,”

“Mmph,” he emits an unintelligible noise in response, muffled by the pillow.

“Niichaaaaan,” the honorific leaves your lips in a whine, giving another weak shove at his arm. “Niichan, you’re so hot, I’m gonna melt,”

“Too bad. We’re not getting up yet,”

You whine again, your squirming becoming more vigorous. “But Touya-nii, I’m so thirsty! Please, my mouth is drier than the desert, I swear to God,”

“If you don’t stop acting like a brat, I’m gonna fuck you like a brat,”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

That gets his attention, fluffy head shooting up, white tufts tousled and standing on end, sleepy eyes squinting against the sudden light as he tries to glare at you. “Excuse me?”

The deep, rough lilt to his voice, heavy with sleep, makes your stomach flutter, blood rushing to your cheeks as you gaze at him.

Even in the morning, he’s stupidly beautiful.

“G-Got you up,” you giggle a little, reaching forward to run your fingers through his messy hair, smoothing it down in the process.

He deadpans, glaring at you for a moment, though there’s no heat in his eyes. You stare back, blinking twice, little fingers trailing down the side of his face and then tracing his jaw, murmuring about how pretty he is.

“Pretty, huh?” he finally sighs, a small grin spreading across his cheeks, head tilting to the side as your fingers travel down his neck, tracing the intricate black ink.

“Mm, very pretty,” you whisper to yourself, eyes zeroing in on his adams apple as it bobs with his chuckle. “But I’m still thirsty,”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes and pushing himself up completely, sheets pooling at his waist. “Fucking brat,”

It’s just past 9am, but the kitchen is empty. Touya carries you there, and even though you’re more than capable of walking by yourself, you snuggle into his neck, scattering gentle kisses across the scarred skin, head resting against his broad shoulder.

He exhales a sigh as you do so, and you can physically feel the tension leaving his body, a tiny bit more with each kiss you press against him.

A soft yelp hitches in your throat as he places you on the counter, cold marble stinging the bare skin of your thighs, Touya smirking at the sound as he wanders over to the fridge, rooting through it for a moment before turning back towards you.

“Water?” you make a face. Touya deadpans for the second time in fifteen minutes.

“You said you were thirsty, did you not?”

“Yeah, but…” you trail off shyly, hooking your ankles together and swinging your legs a little. “I wanted chocolate milk,”

“No,” he says instantly, slamming the fridge shut with more force than necessary, jars jiggling and clinking together with the motion. “Water first,” he uncaps the bottle and holds it out to you. “Don’t you dare start pouting,” he adds, when your eyebrows are beginning to knit together, voice stern. “You did not drag me out of bed at nine in the fucking morning because your mouth was drier than the desert just to pout when I give you water. You know you aren’t allowed sugar first thing in the morning, baby,”

You suppose he has a point, working hard to smooth your face as you take the bottle from him.

“M’sorry, niichan,” you murmur before taking a sip, gazing at him through your lashes.

He glares at you for another moment before a tiny grin breaks his face, shaking his head with a soft chuckle.

“You’re really testing me this morning,” he mumbles as large hands pry your knees apart, wedging his hips between your thighs while hands curl around your hips and drag you towards the edge of the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist—an automatic reaction—ankles hooking again and holding him close, bodies pressed flush together.

Something’s still off, you can tell, evident in the way his head drops the moment you’re close enough, forehead resting against the crown of your head, exhaling.

“It’s not very nice, babygirl,” he speaks again after a beat of silence, calloused hands slipping under your—his, your mind reminds you—t-shirt, palming your hips. “Think you should make it up to me, hmm?”

And you want to, God, do you ever want to, want to kiss all of his sorrow away, want to pull those gorgeous broken whines and throaty moans from him, want to help him forget about whatever it is that’s bothering him so deeply, to lock it out of his head, shoving it from his mind as his brain is filled with thoughts of you. But…

“B-But niichan, we’re in the kitchen,” you have to force the trembling words from your mouth, biting down hard on your lip to keep from moaning as his teeth skim along your neck, evoking a full body shiver.

“So?” his lips brush against your skin, nimble fingers dipping into your cute pink panties.

“Anyone could—could come in any second and—”

“What? Catch us?” he pulls back a little, smirking. “And?” sapphire searches your face as heat rushes to your cheeks, rushes shamefully between your legs. He snorts a moment later, pressing two fingers against your clothed cunt. “Exactly,” the word is just a huff of breath as he nudges his nose against yours. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“I—”

“Don’t try lying,” he sounds bored as he cuts you off, fingers rubbing at your little hole through the damp cotton of your panties. “Your pussy’s very honest,”

And the broken whine that hitches in your chest is nothing short of absolutely pathetic, back arching and eyes fluttering as he begins flicking his thumb over your clit, keeping his touches light and fast.

“Yeah,” he breathes, the word bordering on a growl. “Of course you would. Bet you could cum from just this if Natsuo were watching, huh? Want everyone to know how easy you are for niichan? How much of a good little slut you are for niichan?”

“You planning on testing that theory out?”  

Natsuo’s unexpected voice makes you jump, eyes snapping open and flying to his face as you choke on a gasp, Touya’s thumb choosing then to press hard against your swollen little clit, forcing an embarrassingly loud cry from your lips and paying no mind to his younger brother, who’s leaning casually against the doorframe with a smirk decorating his face. In fact, Touya doesn’t react to Natsuo at all—

Because he already knew.

“N-Niichan,” you nearly wail, burying your scalding face in his shoulder, nails digging into the smooth muscles of his back.

“Aww,” Natsuo coos, and he sounds genuine. “C’mon, don’t hide from me, sweetheart,”

“What, now you’re shy? When you were about to get off on the very thought just moments ago?” Touya’s patronizing chuckle vibrates against you, though his hands are on your back, petting you in smooth, soothing motions.

“Niisan, don’t tease,” Natsuo laughs, and you smush your face harder against Touya’s shoulder, whimpering a little as Natsuo’s voice gets closer. “I just figured if you two were gonna have a cheeky lil fuck in the kitchen, the least you could do is let me watch,”

Touya begins laughing again, starts to say something, voice abruptly cutting off. You stiffen, clinging to him, breath bated as you listen.

“Surprised you two were the first ones up,” Fuyumi’s voice floats through the space, tone clipped.

You peak out from over Touya’s shoulder, watching as Fuyumi fiddles around with their extremely expensive coffeemaker, a deep scowl etched into her face.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Touya asks lightly, sounding genuinely surprised, innocently curious.

“You know why,” she snaps, slamming her coffee mug down on the granite countertop and whipping her head around to glare at her older brother.

Touya chuckles and shakes his head, maintaining that he doesn’t, he swears, and if you didn’t know any better, if you couldn’t see the smug smirk on his face, the mocking amusement swirling in his eyes, you’d believe him to be telling the truth.

But Fuyumi knows him better than that, rolling her eyes and grumbling unintelligibly under her breath. Shouto chooses then to enter the kitchen, hair slightly mussed, looking a little like a white and red haystack atop his head, and Touya’s body goes rigid.

He yawns out his morning greeting, glancing around the room, mismatched eyes lingering on your bare thighs for just a second too long.

Touya notices, because Touya notices everything—especially when it comes to Shouto, cobalt eyes sharp and trained on his every movement—moving to shield you with his body as best he can.

“C’mon princess,” he’s mumbling as his hands force their way under your ass, hefting you up again. “Let’s go,”

And no one misses the way Shouto watches the two of you leave, the way his sleepy eyes focus on your ass—just barely concealed by the cotton panties, Touya’s hands providing more coverage than the garment does—then move down to his brother’s shameless erection, partially obscured by your body, inhaling a sharp gasp that everyone hears, that everyone knows what it’s in reaction to, that everyone ignores.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Today’s activity is ice skating, Rei tells you as your exiting the cabin.

She looks excited, a smile on her soft lips, eyes bright as she pats your shoulder, and it makes warmth flutter in your chest, glad to see the events of yesterday haven’t completely dampened her mood.

“Do you know how to skate?” Natsuo asks you, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“I do,” you say proudly, looking over at Rei as you reach Touya’s car, sharing a grin. “Rei taught me not long after she and my father started dating,”

“Aw, mom,” Natsuo coos, looking over at his mother for reassurance. “That’s sweet,”

Rei hums, nodding as her eyes drift back to yours.

“Hold on a second,” she says as her smile slowly begins to dissipate, glancing from Touya’s hand on the handle of his car’s passenger door, to your face, to Natsuo standing by his own car a few feet away, brows knitting.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in the car?” his response comes out as a question, spoken slowly as he’s worried it’s the wrong answer, tilting his head a little like a puppy.

“There’s no need for you to take more than one car,” Rei says pointedly, her gaze darting to Touya, holding his eyes even though she was speaking to Natsuo. His mouth falls open to protest, but she continues. “The five of you will fit in one. We’ll see you there,”

Her tone is final as she turns away and gets into her own car, the five of you watching in silence as it reverses onto the road, snow and ice cracking and popping under the thick tires. Natsuo turns back to the group, a large, boyish smile on his face.

“It’s fine! We’ll take my car,” Natsuo’s eyes soften a little as he looks over at his silver Porsche, patting the roof affectionately.

“No,” Fuyumi responds immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Stone eyes fly back to her face, alarmed. “What! Why?”

“Because you drive like a lunatic—I refuse to ride in any car when you’re behind the wheel,”

Natsuo frowns as he rounds his car, coming to stand with the group. “Well your car isn’t here, since you came up with mom, so—”

“We can take Touya’s car,”

“No,” Touya nearly growls, the unexpected rumbling deep in his chest causing everyone to flinch.

“Why not?” Fuyumi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, eyes narrowing slightly as she glances at her older brother. “I can’t think of any reason—”

“He is not stepping foot in my fucking car,”

Fuyumi’s eyes widen slightly, staring at him in disbelief, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding, or are you really that stupid?”

“Touya-nii,” you gasp softly, tugging on his arm a little and then hugging it to your chest. His voice drips with venom, sharper than a tungsten needle, and it makes both you and Natsuo wince, despite not being the object of his fury.

“Fine, Christ, I just won’t come then,” Shouto finally chimes in with a roll of his eyes. “Will that make you happy?”

Touya whirls around to face him, rips his arm from your grasp so aggressively, so suddenly, that it sends you stumbling backwards. Natsuo catches you quickly, righting you with an arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“You wanna know what would make me happy? You fucking de—”

“That’s enough,” Fuyumi cuts him off with a glare so fierce it sends chills skittering across your skin, regardless of the thick sweaterdress and heavy jacket you’re currently wrapped up in. Natsuo must feel it course through your body, because he pulls you tighter against him, fingers digging into your shoulder.

Touya’s eyes snap to his sister, raising an eyebrow as a terrifying smile spreads across his face. It’s a smile you’ve only seen a few times before, gleaming white teeth on display, angular jaw clenched tightly. It’s a smile that makes icy dread pool in your stomach, thick and heavy, and you try to press yourself closer to Natsuo, body flush against his side, partially hiding your face in his chest.

Still, Fuyumi does not waver. “You are an adult, Touya. For God’s sake, act like one! Shouto is not a disease—”

“Could’ve fooled me,”

“—that will infect your car! He’s your baby brother!”

Touya’s eye twitches at the term, painful smile stretching even wider. In the pale afternoon sunlight, those glinting white teeth look pointier than normal, and you whimper into Natsuo’s chest.  

“My car, my rules,”

“Oh my God! Are you being ser—”

“Alright, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Natsuo jumps in quickly, trying to keep his voice light. “You’re scaring our little princess, niisan,” he says, voice softer, a large hand rubbing your shoulder in comfort.

Touya spins around again, wild sapphire eyes finding yours, his face falling the moment your gazes meet.

Little fingers have tangled themselves in Natsuo’s jacket, clinging to him so hard the skin over your knuckles is stretched taut. Your entire body trembles as you blink hard, trying in vain to clear the tears rushing to your eyes. The pounding of your heart echoes in your ears, so loud you can’t hear what Touya says as he swoops towards you, eyes wide and worried.

“We’ll take my car, and Fuyumi will drive.”

Natsuo’s voice holds the same note of finality that his mother’s does, large hand still curled around your shoulder as firm stone eyes scan the three faces in front of him.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

Touya refuses to have you and Shouto in the back seat alone, and Natsuo insists that he sits in the passenger seat, to make sure Fuyumi doesn’t hurt his baby, he explains, which is how you end up smack in the middle of the oldest and youngest Todoroki children.

It’s cramped—they’re both too big to be in the backseat of such a small car—resulting in the three of you being squished together, your body packed in tightly—practically wedged—between theirs.

It’s nearly impossible to keep your thigh from brushing against Shouto’s, but you try anyway, leaning into Touya as much as you can. A strong, possessive arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, fingers fisted in the material of your little sweaterdress, sapphire eyes hyper-focused on the way Shouto’s corduroy clad thigh keeps knocking against your bare knee with every gentle jolt of the car.

But when Shouto idly drops his large hands heavily to his lap with a sigh, long fingers splayed casually, just the very tip of his pinky resting against your thigh—well.

Touya sees fucking red, yanking your body away from his little brother immediately with a vicious growl caught in his throat, the movement so sudden and unexpected it has both you and Shouto gasping, heterochromatic eyes wide and alert as they snap to his eldest brother’s face,

He hadn’t even noticed. Truthfully, you probably wouldn’t have either if it hadn’t been Touya’s suffocating, overbearing presence beside you—engulfing you, causing you to be excessively aware of every miniscule movement, every jostle and touch and bump.

“Don’t fucking touch her,”

It takes Shouto another half a second before the realization hits him, eyes darting down to his thighs, finally taking note of the placement of his fingers. Then he’s scoffing, rolling his eyes as he huffs to himself, quiet and under his breath, something about Touya being absolutely ridiculous and childish and insecure.

Yet Shouto’s legs spread a little more every time Touya pulls you a few centimeters closer to him, ensuring that your thighs can never quite escape his, his strong muscles constantly nudging against yours.

It isn’t until you push your knee back against his, hard and purposeful, giving Shouto a sharp look, that this behaviour finally halts.

“Who’s being childish now?” you hiss, eyes holding his sternly, widening a moment later as if to say, Stop aggravating him.

Shouto’s face falls, lips tugging down into a frown as his gaze searches your face, head shaking a little. He opens his mouth—to apologize, you think—but is cut off by Touya’s immature snickering, his chest vibrating against your back.

“Fuck you,” he seethes instead, eyes narrowing and mouth snapping into a firm, unimpressed line.

“Watch it—”

“Play nice, you two,” Natsuo warns from the front seat. “I won’t hesitate to pull this car over and beat both your asses on the side of the road for everyone to see,”

“Okay, dad,” Shouto snorts as Touya simultaneously responds with, “I’d like to see you try,”

Nevertheless, Natsuo’s little warning does manage to shut them up for the remainder of the ride, Shouto crossing his legs, knees pressed up painfully against the door in an attempt to stop touching you. You’re practically in Touya’s lap by the time you arrive at the Ena Skating Rink at Crystal Park, seatbelt uncomfortably biting into your flesh through your clothing.

“I don’t understand why we had to drive an hour just to go skating,” Shouto grumbles just as Fuyumi turns into the parking lot, face set in a deep frown, eyebrows furrowed as he glares out the window. “There was a perfectly fine lake like, ten minutes from the cabin,”

“Shou, you sound like a petulant teenager,”

“Technically, he is a petulant teenager,”

“Not for much longer,”

“That’s right, your birthday’s coming up,” you say automatically without thinking, words slipping from your mouth as Fuyumi circles the lot in search of a parking spot. In the past, Shouto would’ve ignored such a slip-up, figuring the politeness of providing you an answer not worth Touya’s wrath, but now he turns to face you with a small smile, heterochromatic eyes almost twinkling, mask of irritability burning off his face in an instant.

“Yeah, in a few weeks,” he shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll be twenty,”

Do you have any plans?

The question lingers on the tip of your tongue, words frozen at the back of your throat as Touya’s hand curls protectively around you, strong fingers digging into your plush waist hard enough to make you wince.

But Shouto has become pretty good at reading you over these past few years, no longer needs you to voice your thoughts—the two of you have become accustomed to communicating through looks and expressions alone, to keep from sending Touya into an absolute rampage, to keep the both of you safe.

“Not sure what I’m doing yet,” he answers, keeping his voice light, though those mismatched eyes are sharply trained on your face, ready to analyze and decode whatever expression your features morph into.

This is the first time he’s ever verbally answered, though, and it hits you like a bag of bricks swung at your chest, the realization that this is something the two of you have built up together, something the two of you have spent years doing, working together silently, quietly, subtly, to keep Touya placid, something the two of you have been subconsciously doing to protect each other.

The thought inspires an odd feeling in your stomach, chest tightening with something akin to anxiety, something bitter and heavy rooting in the pit of your belly.

Touya saves you from having to answer, hastily unbuckling your seatbelt for you the moment Fuyumi’s finished reversing the car and nearly hauling you out  before she’s even cut the engine.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

“You’re not coming?” you ask Touya as he slips your foot into a skate, beginning to lace it up.

Touya shakes his head. “No,”

“Touya never learned how to skate—refused to, actually,” Natsuo informs you, sitting down next to you on the bench and playfully bumping his shoulder against yours.

Tilting you head, you stare at him, a soft little oh slipping from your lips. Touya avoids your gaze, jaw clenching rhythmically.  

“It’s for the best. He really shouldn’t be near any sort of blade for an extended period of time, not while Shouto’s in reach,” Natsuo jokes, though no one laughs, because it’s true.

Touya spends most of his time leaning against the boards, bright sapphire eyes trained on you, glued to you, cataloging all of your movements, each of your cute little giggles and soft little smiles, every hand on your shoulder or waist as it steadies you.

It’s hard for him to watch.

It’s hard for him to watch the way your eyes twinkle as Fuyumi speaks to you, the two of you gliding around the ice nonchalantly, hard for him to watch the way Natsuo pulls endless laughter from your throat as his gloved hands hold yours, pulling you along with him, hard for him to watch when Shouto appears beside you, slowing his stride to talk animatedly to you, the two of you absorbed in whatever discussion you’re having.

And yet, he can tell something isn’t right. Your eyes are twinkling, but they don’t gleam the way they do when you gaze at him. You’re laughing, but it isn’t as bubbly and pure as it is when evoked by him. You’re talking, but you aren’t wholly and completely captivated by whatever it is Shouto’s saying to you, gaze constantly drifting just over his shoulder, connecting with Touya’s.

Those ten little words from the night before echo through his mind again, and his molars grind together, but the look in your eyes, the way your face positively lights up when you skate towards him, past him, blowing kisses and giggling behind mitten covered hands, stomps them to little pieces, to dust, your fleeting presence blowing them away. He feels like he can fucking breathe again, each time you glide by him, resolve hardening a little more with every lap past him.

No, he knows he’s the best for you, absolutely is without a doubt the very best for you— and you confirm it with that loving, adoring, doting look every single time.

Despite this, he keeps disappearing intermittently, your heart sinking just a little bit more every time you look over to see him nowhere to be found, a sour taste settling on the back of your tongue. This is only the second day into the trip and you’re already terrified, knowing that he’s filling his nostrils with that fine white powder the moment he begins to feel his high fading, the moment he feels himself beginning to come down.

And by the third time he vanishes within a single hour, you decide you can no longer stand by and do nothing, say nothing—he’s gone for more than usual this time, an uneasy sense of dread flooding your body, making your limbs tingle as your heart begins to race, plopping down on the wooden bench and bending down to quickly unlace your skates. Your voice shakes as you tell the others that you’d like to take a short break from skating, claiming that your feet are sore, and that you’d like to rest for a while.

In actuality, you’re sure they all know what you’re doing, itching to go search for Touya, heart pounding painfully as several scenarios flash through your mind, but they say nothing, nodding with those polite smiles they all plaster on their faces any time something like this occurs.

The muscles in your thighs ache as you jog across the snow-dusted field, eyes frantically darting around the large open space in search for a man with ivory hair and azure eyes. Your feet take off the moment you spot him, an instinctual reaction, breath ragged and burning in your chest as you barrel into him, winding your arms around his waist tightly and burying your face in his strong chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he’s murmuring softly, arms encircling you and squeezing you against him, dropping a kiss to the crown of your head. “What’s going on, princess?”

Pulling back, your eyes study his face, stomach plummeting when you see it.

“Out playing in the snow again?”

Cobalt eyes narrow, Touya tilting his head in question as he stares at you. A frown mars your face, deep sigh leaving your nostrils without your permission, and Touya bristles. A tender thumb swipes across his nose, showing him the pure white powder it gathers.

“Slow down,” you say softly, gently, cautious eyes watching him carefully. “I don’t want a trip to the ER for Christmas,”

He holds your gaze for a moment, and you can see it, the blue fire simmering deep within them, but because it’s Christmas—and only because it’s Christmas—he blinks twice, extinguishing the flame to dull embers.

Chest heaving once, deep and heavy, he sighs out of parted lips, holding your hand to his cheek. Sapphire eyes close briefly as he nuzzles his face into your touch, and for a moment—just for a second—you think he’s about to apologize.

But that would be a Christmas miracle.

“Keep me in line,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping a little in defeat, a tiny sardonic grin on his lips as his eyes open again, searching your face. “Okay? Can’t let my best girl down on Christmas, now, can I?”

And although his shoulders are straining under the weight of this new responsibility—to try and restrain himself a little more, to not solely rely on the drugs to numb him to everything, to give up autonomy, power, to you—a weight feels like it’s been lifted off of yours, regardless of the fact that he’s asking you to control him, and you inhale deeply, able to breathe again.

I’m only worried about you, you want to say. It isn’t your intention to put more stress on him, especially when being forced to spend nearly every waking minute around his blood siblings is evidently very difficult for him, but you don’t want him dead because of it, either.

“I love you,” you tell him instead, unsaid words sown into the fabric of the sentence.

But he doesn’t need to hear you say it, he can feel it—in the air around you, radiating off your frame in thick waves that crash into him in the most pleasant way; in the way your soft fingertips stroke his cheeks, tracing his features with the utmost gentleness; in the way you gaze so tenderly at him, eyes sweeping across his face akin to the most compassionate caress.

It all makes him feel like he can do this, like he might actually survive this, so long as you’re by his side. The thought produces an inexplicable lump in his throat and he blinks hard, glittering eyes sweeping across your face before he seizes it, large hands cupping your jaw almost painfully as he pulls your face towards his, lips capturing yours in a crushing kiss.

Niichan! You try to squeal, muffled by his lips, Touya using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, down your throat.

Traitorous as ever, your body melts into his only a second later, fingers latching behind his neck, trying to pull yourself closer.

“I need more,” he mumbles against your lips before pecking them again, eyes still closed. “I need more, baby, I need more right now,”

“Then take it,” you whine breathlessly into his mouth, echoing your words from the night before. “Take it, it’s yours,”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

It smells like damp rubber and stale snow, with a hint of year-old hard candy crushed beneath snow boots, releasing faint scents of artificial strawberry and orange.

The restroom is filthy, but neither of you care, too wrapped up in each other to pay much mind to the grime on the walls, or the flaky rust on the faucet—which is quietly dripping intermittently, covered in little droplets of condensation that gleam under the harsh florescent light humming above, tubes exposed.

The cement wall is cold against your bare skin as Touya rucks your dress up around your waist, hands under your ass supporting your weight as your legs wrap around him obediently, praising you for listening to him and never wearing pants, even in weather like this, because god, it makes everything so much easier, baby.

In the past, you would’ve been in a rush, positive you didn’t have much time before someone noticed your absence.

But your family is used to this now, completely unphased by the two of you disappearing for twenty, sometimes thirty minutes and returning with swollen lips and freshly fucked hair.

It’s not like they can say anything, anyway—it’s not like anything is going to stop the two of you now; it’s not like anything would’ve stopped the two of you before, either.

Despite this, Touya still doesn’t exactly take his time with you, large hands pawing at your breasts, your waist, your hips, fingers dipping into the elastic waistband of your panties just to let it snap back against your skin, reveling in the little yelp it conjures from you.

“Already soaked,” he sneers in your ear as two fingers skim over your lace-clad cunt. “Of course you are. I don’t know why I expected any less,” he huffs out a chuckle; a mean, harsh sound that ghosts over the shell of your ear before he captures it with his teeth, biting down hard and forcing a high-pitched squeal from your throat. “Because my baby’s such a Goddamn slut, isn’t she,” his lips are against your ear as he murmurs in that low, sultry voice, hot breath contrasting the cool air of the restroom, and you shiver violently.

“Only for you,” you whine out, already breathless.

And you’ll never get over how easily he knocks the air out of your lungs with just a few dirty words and prodding fingers, stroking your slit through drenched lace in a way that’s almost gentle, careful, purposeful, sure to keep his touches as teasing and not nearly enough.

Still, those three words have more of an effect on him than you would’ve thought, a possessive growl ripping from his chest as he grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh, the denim rough against your soft skin.

That growl in particular is your favourite, and you tell him so.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, pulling back as sapphire searches your face rapidly, wide and bright and alert with the cocaine rushing through his body.

“Makes me—” sharp teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, just above your shoulder, a loud gasp cutting you off and bouncing against the walls of the small room. “Makes me wet, niichan,”

He groans into your skin, tongue wet and warm and caressing the skin in little licks back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as he sucks, branding you with brilliant violet.

“What’s this? My princess talking so dirty without being prompted?” he pulls back to look at you, and you can see the amusement dancing in his deep, deep eyes, endless pits of cerulean smothering everything their gaze touches, almost voracious as they soak it all up, feeling like they’re sucking the very life from you in the most delicious way.

A pitiful squeak escapes your lips in the form of an answer, heat seeping into your cheeks. He’s mocking you—you can tell. Those three words uttered from your lips aren’t even that dirty, are nothing compared to some of the things that have come out of your mouth while you’re delirious on his cock, begging for his cum.

Still, you’re unable to find your voice, staring at him in an almost helpless manner, a little kitten in the clutches of a jaguar, claws beginning to close in on you, trapping you between heavy, sharp paws.

“Ah,” he smirks, eyes darkening dangerously. “Not so bold when niichan’s actually looking at you, are you?”

Front teeth dig into your bottom lip, chewing on it a little as you hold his gaze, feeling heat gush between your thighs, the symphony of your combined slightly ragged breathing ringing in your ears.

“Say it again,”

And you try—really, you do, lips separating as you try to force the words out, a nasty combination of frustration and shame eroding your chest, burning and acidic, then shaking your head a moment later.

“Just,” you whimper as you try to pathetically rock against him. “Please?”

“Nah, nah, nah,” he’s shaking his head, that stupid grin etched across his face, pulling back even more but keeping you up against the wall, hands still cupping your ass, hips pinning yours. “Niichan isn’t gonna fuck you now unless you ask for it,”

Your forehead creases with a deep frown. You usually ask him to fuck you, don’t you? “I alwa—”

“No, no, you don’t,” he says simply with a tilt of his head. “Niichan wants you to really ask for it this time,”

You blink rapidly in confusion. “I-I don’t understand,”

Little breaths are beginning to leave your mouth, speeding up with the racing of your heart, terrified to upset him. Yet he looks amused, looks like he’s having so much fun as he torments you.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos with a false pout, mimicking your own. “You’re not that stupid, are you?”

A little whimper leaves your lips, chin twitching, threatening to begin trembling as you shake your head at him, unable to find words. Heat floods your face again, little pinpricks under the skin of your cheeks, a physical manifestation of your humiliation as he tuts his tongue.

“I don’t know how else to explain it to you,” he shrugs nonchalantly, though you can feel his cock throbbing through the thick denim of his jeans. “Just ask for my cock, babygirl,”

Although oozing with patronization, his voice is soft, blown pupils gazing at you with so much love it’s nearly overflowing from his eyes, slender fingers kneading the flesh of your ass almost tenderly as he waits.

And that’s all the encouragement you need, really.

“I-I want your cock, nii—” you begin, voice fading as your eyes meet his unimpressed gaze, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say Really? That’s the best you got?

A fierce need to prove yourself, to make him moan again, to make his stomach tense from just your words alone, blazes in your chest, burning through your veins and giving you another surge of confidence.

Gazing at him through your lashes, you pout a little more. “Niichan,” you whine out the honorific, back arching a little as you do. “Please, niichan, give it to me, I’m begging, my pussy is aching for your cock, T-Touya-nii—I need it filling me up, need it right now, f-feels so empty without you stretching me wide open,” the sentence fades off into a little whimper, but his lidded, glazed eyes, and the way his tongue runs along his bottom lip as he stares at you spurs you on, more dirty words spilling from your lips. “Feels—Feels wrong without your f-fat cock inside of me,” you nearly weep. “Please, niichan, make it right again,”

The gentle tremble in your voice only adds to it, somehow manages to make you seem so fucking innocent as you whine out such filthy words, and Touya can barely handle it, rubbing against your thigh, the repetitive motion of the denim dragging across your soft skin causing it to chafe.

“Fucking Christ,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes slip shut. “I wish I had recorded that,”

A cute, shy little giggle bubbles up your throat, face still burning. “I-I can say it again, if you want, niichan,”

He laughs—a genuine laugh deep in his throat, paired with a smile that meets his eyes—and presses a chaste kiss to your nose.

“One day, I’ll film us,” he vows, and the thought alone makes your stomach swoop. “But now, niichan’s gonna make you feel right again, okay, princess?”

“Oh, please, please,” you’re whimpering, body quivering against him.

“Shh, niichan’s got you,” he murmurs as he fiddles with his belt using a singular hand, your tiny fingers wandering down between your bodies to aid him.

Shoving your panties to the side, the head of his cock presses against you, and you wince in anticipation of the stretch—the stretch you so lovingly begged him for, he reminds you, sapphire eyes soaking up every single one of your expressions as he pushes in; reveling in the way your shut lids tighten, face screwing up in pain as the softest little yelp hitches in your throat.

It burns unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, abused cunt still sore and raw from the night before, from being fucked so ruthlessly less than twenty-four hours ago.

But you’re so wet, he breathes, rolling his hips slowly, stretching you little hole out just a bit more with each unhurried rock of his hips against yours. The wetness does nothing to stop the sting that accompanies his motions, though, reopening the tiny superficial fissures in your sensitive skin, quite literally tearing you apart, again, as your cunt yields to his girth.

“Niichan, hurts,”

“Yeah, baby?”

Little fingers curl in his thick sweater, and you whimper out an affirmative, head nodding lethargically against his shoulder.

“I thought you wanted niichan to fill you up?” he speaks as though he’s confused, a hint of condescension sown into the question, never halting his thrusts.

“I-I do!” you say quickly, head shooting up to gaze at him with glassy eyes, thick shield of unshed tears causing them to gleam in the harsh light. “I do,”

“Well then,” he smirks at you, hips pulling back, slow and controlled, before thrusting back in, sharp and fast, so hard it shoves your body up the wall, head whacking against the concrete with such force it sends agonizing pain shooting through your skull like lightning strikes. “Stop being a fucking brat, and take what niichan’s giving you,” he scolds over the piercing cry that falls from your lips, voice rough, deep, rumbling the way thunder does, buried in thick clouds on a humid summer’s day.

“Ungrateful little slut,” he snarls out, panting a little as his hips set a punishing pace, rapidly slamming into you, his jutting hipbones digging into the fresh bruises from the night before.

And you’re powerless to stop the noises you’re emitting, catching in your throat in time with his harsh thrusts, little mewls of niichan! and broken whines bouncing off the solid, cold walls, each one reverberating in his skull, forcing his hips to drive faster, harder, deeper.

But it’s fucking intoxicating, the way he’s pulling those needy little sounds from you as tears slip down your cheeks, pompously spitting demeaning words at you, sugarcoated in a thin, gleaming layer of praise. He’s a goddamn drug, words invading your mind and casting a thick haze over it, and during that moment all you can see is him, hear is him, taste is him—you swear you can feel him rushing through your veins, his heady scent of expensive cologne mixed with hickory campfire and a hint of Marlboros filling your lungs, the organs swelling painfully as you hold him inside your chest, trying to keep a piece of him close to your heart.

He stops to readjust your position, grunting as hooks an arm under your knee and yanks, ripping it from around his waist and forcing it toward your torso, your ankle nearly resting on his shoulder, his hand splayed flat against the dirty wall, using it as leverage. Your other leg clings to him, wrapped so tightly around his body that the muscles are beginning to quiver. Still, this brief pause affords you a much needed moment to catch your breath before his hips piston into you again, harsh, strong, fast, cockhead slamming against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

Each thrust forces another yelp to tear from your throat, your voice hoarse and raw, as he bruises your abused cervix, sharp spikes of pain shooting up your lower back and down your trembling thighs. He’s a watery blur at this point, eyes overflowing with tears, nails digging into the meat of his shoulders as you clutch him, arms beginning to ache from holding yourself up.

Tufts of white hair stick to his neck and forehead, clumped together with sweat. He’s almost whining out curses, slipping from between clenched teeth as his thrusts continue to pick up speed, although you can barely hear him over the sound of your own ragged breathing, peppered with pitiful little sobs that leave your chest heaving.

“Look at you,” he gasps out, wild sapphire eyes searching your face. “So fucking beautiful, taking my cock so well,”

And even in such a position, inebriated from the potent combination of pain and pleasure and him, his praise still makes your heart soar. A little pink tongue darts out to wet your chapped lips, bitten raw by him and salty with your own tears. Strand of hair stick to your puffy cheeks, though you’re unsure if they’re coated in sweat or tears.

“C’mon, baby,” he nearly keens. “Want you to be a good girl and cum for me,”

And those two tiny, four letter words are the magic words, like they always are, your head nodding vigorously, incoherent babbling bubbling past your lips; yes niichan, of course, wanna be a good girl for you, touya-nii, the best girl, your best girl.

He gives you permission to touch your clit, swollen and aching from neglect, your fingers sneaking between your bodies to rub at it, pussy clenching almost immediately.

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “Yeah baby, just like that, milk niichan for all the cum he’s got,”

The praise, mixed with a direct command, has your fingers speeding up, moving in rapid circular motions, that cord of heat in your stomach coiling tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until it finally snaps, your little cunt throbbing as you gush around his cock.

He follows immediately after with a dark growl of your name, hips stilling as he finally cums, pinning you against the wall, cockhead pressed tightly against your sore cervix.

It’s thick, scalding, and copious, wrecked little noises getting caught in your throat as his cock pulses, filling you with endless spurts of cum; so much, too much, and you’re sure your womb isn’t nearly big enough to take it all, positive that it’s leaking out of you, running down your ass and down his balls.

You still haven’t caught your breath by the time Touya’s releasing you, hands firm on your hips as he places you gently on your feet, keeping you steady as your legs shake. You can still feel his cum leaking out of you, and you wish you had something better than your thin panties to keep it inside of you. With a pout, you tell him so, voice absolutely ruined as you wheeze out, “I-I wish I had a-a plug, niichan, to hold all of your cum inside me,”

“Christ,” he breathes, eyes twinkling as he gazes down at you, brushing his slender fingers through your sweaty hair. “You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?”

      ❅           ❅           ❅

You don’t remember much of the drive home, struggling to keep your heavy eyelids from falling shut. Touya’s half dried cum is sticky—now practically gelatinous—in your panties and the mere thought of it makes you whimper, wiggling your hips a little, trying to shuffle closer to him.

It makes you feel needy. It makes him feel wanted.

“Niichan’s here, baby,” he’s murmuring into your hair as he readjusts his arm around your waist, pulling both your legs over his lap, your side still pressed firmly against his. “Niichan’s here,”

A pitiful whine slips from your lips, little fingers curling in his hoodie as warm hands travel up your dress, kneading the supple flesh of your thighs. Fingers press into the bruises he knows are there without even having to look, smirking at the way you hiss, contrasted by the way your thighs spread just a bit more, giving him more room to work, to play. The pads of his fingers graze the tiny raised cuts that the rough denim of his jeans left behind, tracing the raised little scabs.

“Sleep,” he tells you softly. “You did so good today, such a good little girl for me, my best girl,”

And his voice is the most soothing lullaby, smooth like melted platinum and quiet enough that only you can hear it, undoubtedly drowned out to the others by the staticky car radio.

      ❅           ❅           ❅

The dark bedroom is bleary, as if you were gazing at it though a thick slab of glass, eyes scanning the room slowly, mumbling out something that’s unintelligible even to yourself.

You’re not exactly sure how you got here, sitting on one of the twin beds in yours and Touya’s shared bedroom, propped up against the tiny headboard like a doll.

Touya’s murmuring to you softly as tender hands find the hem of your dress, tugging it up slowly, slowly, slowly, a low whine getting caught in your throat as your soft skin is exposed to the cool air, until he’s removed it from you completely. The clasp at the back of your bra snaps, and you want to tell him to be more gentle, this is your favourite bra, but you can’t seem to make your tongue move, the muscle sitting slimy and heavy in your mouth. Your vision disappears entirely for a second as something soft is slipped over your head, your body engulfed in the scent of hickory wood and Marlboro smoke.

Then large hands are all over you, maneuvering you onto your side then rolling you onto your back, gently prying your thighs open a moment later as he kneels between them, the springy mattress dipping with his weight.

“Touya-nii,” his name escapes your lips in a jumbled whine of protest.

“Shh, baby,” he hushes you, pulling your soiled panties down your legs.

Every muscle in your body aches, weighted down with fatigue from the long day, a few weak kicks—more of a fluttering of your legs, really—being all you’re able to manage in resistance.

“Hurts, niichan,” you whimper, through your eyelids are already falling shut again, exhaustion tugging at your consciousness gently.

“I know, princess,” he responds, and you’re just awake enough for the words to register, brow furrowing. His body heat disappears for a moment from between your thighs as he leans over to grab something, then returns, waves of comforting warmth rolling off of him.

Your body flinches ever so slightly as you feel something cold and smooth being spread across your swollen folds and puffy little hole. Cream, your mind supplies feebly.

“Niichan—”

“Quiet now,” he says, voice firmer than before. An order, this time. “Go to sleep, baby, and let niichan take care of this,”

Hot, tingling sparks blossom deep in the pit of your stomach, making your entire body buzz, like you’re high off him again, the sensation causing your chest to swell. This is what love feels like—Touya rubbing cool, soothing cream into your raw skin as he murmurs soft praises to you—you’re absolutely positive about it.

“I love you,”

The words leave your lips as a dreamy sigh, body finally relaxing against the mattress again.

He presses a tender kiss to your inner thigh, the soft skin a mosaic of crimson and violet from his previous ministrations. “I love you more,”

And that’s the last thing you feel, the last thing you hear as your mind slowly drifts into unconsciousness, filled with hazy images of a pretty boy with glowing sapphires for eyes and ivory for hair, of slim veiny hands decorated with the most magnificent black ink, the pads of their fingertips dancing along your skin, of a deep, sultry voice smoother than satin murmuring how much it loves you as lips crawl up your body—up your thighs, over your stomach and ribs, along the curve of you neck, until finally, they reach yours.

'Lonely ghost serie'

An interesting night- part II

Tw⚠️: swearing

Corpse stretched as he set up his work station, Pewds was starting another live stream and invited him on and since sleep won't show up anytime soon, he hopped on without much thinking.

He smiled when his friends started to greet each other and him.

"Guys, you saw the video I send you ,right?" Lily asked.

"Yeah but I couldn't get in touch with ghost ,her friend was kind to let me know she might not feel comfortable doing a livestream with complete strangers. "Jack said as the others puffed in disappointment.

"That sucks. I wanted to see if she could have kill us all." Grease spoke as he opens a can of soda.

"You wanted to be killed by her?!"

They laughed as Grease quickly defended himself.

"Hey-Hey, to be killed by someone with that skill is a privilege."

"Simp." Jason concluded.

Their laughter ran wilde as Grease again began to shout.

"Hey,Lily?"

"Yes, Rae?"

"You been quiet. Something's wrong?"

"Whenever you are ready." She simply said, confusing them.

"W-What? Lily are you okay-"

"Hello,gents!"

It was her.

"GHOST?"

"Oh my god..."

"HOW but Jack said-"

"Guys ,guys ,please don't overwhelm." Lily again said, calming the both parties.

"Right ,sorry. Anyway, top of morning to yah ,ghost."

He could hear her swallowing her nerves before she cleared her voice, tingles ran down his back when the Reaper like tune hit his headphones.

"Hello!...This is awkward. Sorry."

They giggled with her as she moved in her chair.

"Ghost? "

"Yeah?"

"Your friend said you will not feel comfortable enough to join us today."

"Well, it's raining so that puts me at ease and your friend, Lily, was very convincing on bring me here."

"*giggle* I just showed you picture of my friends' pets."

"...As I said before, very convincing."

They always laughed especially when the stranger proved to be funny enough to bring that chuckle out of them.

"So ready to rock?"

"Let's roll."

————————————————————

The match was entertaining with couple of close calls, too close for your liking. Corpse was on you the entire time so to pay him for his diligence, you killed him first as he struggled to swipe that damn key card.

Then Jason, then Jack, Rae proved to be a bit harder to kill but you got her in O2, Lily was easy, Sykkuno was all confuse as he watched the crewmates die with him doing nothing, Pewds and Mark were a game of venting and killing swiftly. Speed was the key of your success of killing them all.

You could see they have their microphones on but no one said a thing.

The mischievous smirk that was plastered on your face grew when sounds of confusion came from Jack. Always the loud ones reveal the most.

"Whaaaat?"

"What the fuck?"

"I literally didn't have time to even kill any of you. Ghost came in like: slash ,slash, kill,kill."

You finally cracked at the ridiculous sounds Sykkuno made, a poor imitation of the sabers from Star wars.

"Hahaha"

He heard your laugh, he like the sound of it , the easiness and the innocence it held even though you killed all of them without mercy. What he didn't know if he liked was the stirring in his stomach cause by it. The tightness in his breath, the long smile and the bouncing of his legs as a result of hearing it.

He just shook his curls before paying attention to the group again, you were being put in the spotlight, something he cringed at as he recalled the painful experiences he had while being put under light.

"So, ghost?"

"Yes ,Jason?"

A whine came from the man known now as a simp for deep voices. You giggled, shaking your head and screaming when the black pair of headphones fell down your lap. Luckily you had the mic muted. That will be embarrassing...

You fixed your long hair, putting it behind your ears careful to not tug on your fresh piercings , your headphones back on the top ,you dived right back.

"Can you tell us about yourself?"

"Hmm..what do you want to know?"

You heard him sucking in a breath and to be honest you couldn't blame him, the voice was hot.

"Um ...anything. "

You giggled half embarrassed, half amusement by the pitch his voice turned to ,excited to hear whatever you may answer.

"Oh,okay. Um...My piercings hurt. My right leg is bouncing like crazy and um...I crave jelly candy."

"Piercings?"

"Yeah, my pal just did on my right three helix piercings: forward, mid and low. Plus the industrial on my left ear iches a bit."

"Oh, I am sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, Jas. Thanks for asking by the way."

"Oh, don't worry. Do you have any others?"

"Um..yeah. On the right ear ,I have..um. helix , flat, rook and upper. Left ahh..industrial,helix and orbital."

"Wow, th-that's a lot."

"Hah, I just told you about my ears."

A choke cane from him ,probably he was drinking something. It had ice though, you could hear the ice hitting the metal of the glass.

The man started to choke and cough ,making you and the others who listened patiently on your convo worried.

"Easy there ,mate."

"Jay, you good?"

"Easy there ,buddy."

"I-I'm *cough* I am fine. You have MORE?!"

"Yeah ,three on the upper part of my right eyebrow and a ring on the left one."

"Jesus. " He said, calming himself at last.

"Yeah,*giggle*. I also plan to slit my tongue in two."

"Oh, yeah cool.WHAT?!"

————————————————————

The next game you were imposter again but this time Corpse was your sidekick. Or were you his?

Anyway, you decided to let him do more of the killing,believe it or not , you weren't the blood thirsty monster the chat thought of you, all in a joking manner of course. Sabotage and let Corpse do his Kiss of death. Seeing couple of his streams ,you hoped he wasn't too nervous.

"Alright guys, ghost is imposter with us so this time I have to be more careful. They will probably suspect her to be imposter again . Sorry I can't see your message, I need to concentrate on this."

Proving his theory , ghost just sabotaged as she did fake tasks, being a guardian of Lily as he killed so far Mark and Toast.

"W-Where was the body?" His voice came of a bit more nervous then usual.

"In the nav." Dave answered.

"You good ,Corpse?"

He heard you ask ,you were more observant than the others who either lost themselves in the safety feeling of the match or the euphoria of the game, you always pointed suspicious behaviours of the others when they accused him of being imposter. He liked that, gave him time to calm his raging heart.

"Y-Yeah..*cough* I mean yeah, I am good. H-How about you?"

Fuck...

He didn't even want to catch a glimpse of the chat ,having a hunch of what they may be inferring.

"You seem shaky, Corpse. Something happened?"

He didn't needed to see Sean's face to know it will matched a lenny one. Finding an excuse so he is spared of the teasing and/or the allegations he is imposter, is a must.

"Yeah, I am just...ah...freezing. It's cold here. Brr. Brr."

They laughed at his poor attempt to sound like a freezing popsicle, your laugh put him more at ease. He knew however that his attempt of shifting the suspension failed, too bad he wanted to play more with you. I guess the roles are switching.

"He sound sus ,guys. Should we vote him out?"

"Wow, Lily. Thanks."

The girl giggling only stopped when you started speaking.

"He's not sus, guys. He's just a dork ,a stick with crippling anxiety and honestly same."

God, he wished he could fist bump you right now.

"More like a branch but who we voting then?" Sean asked.

" SPEEDRUN!"

Felix sealed his faith however. Your work only left him flustered and with a derpy smile , his honour lost in the vacuum space.

...............CORPSE was ejected.............

"Well shit. Anyway ,guys. Let me see what you been talking about? And I better not see any 'SIMP' comments. "

————————————————————

"How?! How the fuck?! You tricked me!" Lily screamed at you for your betrayal.

"Wow, so now I have big trust issues with ghost." Grease announced.

"Deep mommy, no." Jason said ,bringing a laugh out of you for the thousand of time.

You started to like this guy, he and Corpse will be spared next time you are imposter.

"Sorry ,guys-"

"Who told you,you are allowed to do that?" Pewds shouted at you in a heated but not menacing tone.

"You didn't let me finish."

You took a sip out of your ice tea.

"RIP to ya'll but I am different. Not my fault the only guy I take advices from is Doomguy. And as the legend would say: Rip and tear."

"OH MY FUCK-"

You lowered your mic as they screamed in disbelief ,Corpse didn't said anything however. You were curious as to why?

"Corpse?"

"Yeah ,baby?"

Woah. That caught you out of guard. Like the warmth in your olive cheeks and the deliciously painful and frightening feeling of twisting in your stomach.

"Um..."

You blinked, no words head's empty.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, ghost. I didn't meant to make you feel weird."

"No,no. I am good. Ey, Jas?"

"Yes ,hun?"

"Do you take applications for your Corpse fan club?"

Jesus, what is this night even?

————————————————————

Hey, guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the second part of the serie.

Anyway have a nice day/night!🌙🌌

Tagged 💖💖: @moolujk

Eternal [Chapter 10]

Vampire!AU

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, abuse, sexual situations, abortion, mention of suicide

Summary: You’re not sure how to deal with your current situation. Your owner, Byun Baekhyun, isn’t helping with the stress. But what happens when you find a risky solution that might just solve all your problems?

Prologue [M]│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Chapter 9│Chapter 10│Chapter 11│ Chapter 12│Chapter 13

You feel the world stop around you. You look at Sehun with wide eyes, exhilaration filling you to the brim, electrifying your nerves, the sound of your heartbeat drumming in your ears.

You gesture quickly for him to enter the room, letting him sit down on the bed next to you. “Are you serious? How?”

He nods, then bites his lip, looking around nervously as if he’s afraid of being overheard. His face is serious. “You have to keep it between us though. Don’t let Baekhyun know.”

You frown. “Why? What exactly did you find?”

He takes a deep breath, looking down and fiddling with his fingers. “It’s not exactly…a fool-proof way. And it could potentially go wrong. I’m afraid if Baekhyun finds out, he won’t even attempt it.”

The exhilaration is replaced with worry now. “Tell me how first, and then I’ll think about it.”

“Well, I think I found a way to turn you into a vampire like us.” He says. “If we can somehow merge your blood with a vampire’s, I think it can work, since our blood has special properties. In small doses it could heal wounds, while large doses can be used as poison. If we can just get the amount right…”

Your eyes widen. You’re beginning to understand what he’s insinuating, the question like lead on your tongue. “You can potentially bring me back to life?”

He nods. “Or rather, preserve your life before it ends completely. Of course, there might be aftereffects. You might not be human anymore, but you’d be alive and so will the baby.”

You furrow your brows, thinking about it. It’s plausible. Also risky, but if you were to slowly increase the blood intake in small increments, you can avoid getting poisoned, at least.

You also understand why Sehun doesn’t want you to tell Baekhyun. If there’s a possibility of you becoming a vampire…you’re not sure he would be happy with that. Baekhyun doesn’t like his life as a vampire, he doesn’t want to live for an eternity, and surely he wouldn’t want that for you either.

Or maybe…maybe he would be happy? To spend eternity with you and your baby?

Uneasiness churns in your stomach, and you place a hand over your baby bump to calm yourself.

“You can think about it.” Sehun says. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. I think it would be best to do it when you’re in labor, there’ll be a small window where we can try to do it.”

“I’m worried about Baekhyun.” You admit, chewing your lip. “He’s working tirelessly to find a way to save both of us and I know he probably won’t die from fatigue but…” You frown at the floor.

“I know.” Sehun pats a hand on your knee to comfort you.

“And what if there’s aftereffects?” You continue. “For the baby? Right now it’s half-vampire, half-human. But if I were to turn into a vampire halfway into labor, what does that mean for the baby? Does it become full-vampire?”

You shake your head. “There are so many questions and…I’m scared.”

Sehun has an odd expression on his face, something like sadness—which you can understand—and…disappointment? “I get it. Don’t worry about it, I was just giving a suggestion. Maybe we’ll find another way.”

He stands up to leave, offering you a reassuring smile but it’s tight. Deep down you feel like there isn’t another way. You have to accept the risks or result in death.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as the door clicks shut, leaving you in darkness.

Baekhyun sighs, leaning back against his chair. He closes his eyes, honing in on Thorn, and even through the wall he can hear her gentle breaths, the steady beating of her heart. Faintly, he can even hear the baby’s heartbeat.

It’s still such a strange thought for him. He has a baby coming. He’s going to be a father.

What does that even mean? He doesn’t have the slightest inkling on how to act, what to do. He’s never taken care of anyone before; his brothers certainly don’t need his help with anything.

Will he be a good father? Or will he…

He sighs again, pressing his clasped hands against his forehead.

If the baby looks like him at all, he might want to kill it.

He can’t banish the evil thought. Can’t pretend it never occurred to him. If Thorn were to die during labor…if the baby comes out healthy and grows up to resemble either of them in any way, Baekhyun doesn’t think he could bear it.

It’s just…too much.

Which is why he’s determined not to let Thorn die. He knows how much she loves this baby, even if he can’t understand. He knows she would hate him if he were to hurt the baby in any way. She’d come back to haunt him for eternity.

And he knows that he won’t be able to stop himself from acting rash and violent if anything were to happen to her. So she can’t die. Definitely not.

But he’s been searching high and low for months now for a way to save her. He still comes up empty handed. He has a few potential theories that could work but…he’s skeptical about trying them.

He taps his pen against his notebook, focusing on the name he wrote down a while ago. He had left this idea hanging, his mind going numb when he thought about it too much.

But now that he’s revisiting it, maybe…?

He stands, chair scraping against the wooden floor as he hurries out the room. He walks down the hall, knocking on his brother’s room, quietly since he’s probably with his Pet, who must be asleep at this time.

The door opens slowly, Jongdae’s face poking out. His brother furrows his brows in surprise when he sees Baekhyun. “What’s up?”

“Can we talk?” He tilts his head towards his room and Jongdae nods. He closes the door quietly behind him, following Baekhyun back to his room.

Once Baekhyun closes his door, away from listening ears, he gestures for Jongdae to sit down next to him. “How’s it going with your Pet?”

A smile blooms on Jongdae’s face as he sits. “Pretty good. She seems to be completely over what happened with Victoria. She’s very affectionate.” Jongdae gives Baekhyun a sly wink.

“That’s good to hear.” Baekhyun says, strangely stiff and Jongdae frowns.

“So?” He raises a brow. “I doubt you called me over just to ask me about my Pet.”

“I wanted to ask about Victoria.” Baekhyun says, and Jongdae tenses. “Back then, you watched her die, didn’t you?”

Jongdae’s face darkens as he stares at his hands. “Yes.”

“You were sure she was dead?”

“Absolutely.” His voice trembles and cracks, eyes glazing over when he says, “I held her in my arms and she...was gone.”

“Then when she came back,” Baekhyun says carefully, looking right into Jongdae’s eyes, “she was certainly revived, wasn’t she?”

Jongdae hesitates, then nods. “What are you getting at, Baek?”

“If a vampire can be revived, is it possible to turn a human into a vampire?” Baekhyun asks, his hands clasped tightly together until his knuckles are white. “Since vampires have incredible self-healing capabilities and near-immortality—to be able to even bring a vampire back to life—perhaps if we used a vampire’s blood, we could save a human from the brink of death as well.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Jongdae waves his hands to slow Baekhyun down. “I don’t know how Victoria was able to come back to life…but you’re suggesting someone fed her blood to bring her back?”

“It seems like the only logical answer.”

“Who would’ve done that?” Jongdae frowns. “And why? Why Victoria?”

Baekhyun sighs. “I don’t know. I’m still piecing things together. I just want to know what you think, and whether it’s worth a try.”

Jongdae takes a moment to mull it over, tapping a finger against his chin. “Certainly, it’s a logical idea. It could be possible. But isn’t it too risky?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun sighs. “There’s no knowing the effects on her body and the baby’s…and it’s hard to calculate just how much blood we’ll need.”

“Well we shouldn’t scrap the idea just yet.” Jongdae says. “Maybe we can expand on it and find a better solution. I think a vampire’s blood could be beneficial to her.”

“Yes, maybe.” Baekhyun falls into deep thought.

“Still.” Jongdae leans back on the chair, brows furrowed. “Who do you think revived Victoria? What are their motives?”

“Someone who has a grudge with you?” Baekhyun suggests. “Someone who knows about her, so it can’t be a human, since it happened so long ago. It must be a vampire as well. Perhaps a rival clan.”

“But what good would bringing Victoria back do?” Jongdae frowns. “She only wanted to be with me again, and tried to kill my Pet. She wouldn’t have done anything to the clan.”

“That’s true…” Baekhyun frowns. “Found anything on your patrols lately? Any new suspicious deaths or activity?”

“None noteworthy.”

“Strange.” Baekhyun looks down as he tries to think. “If it’s really someone who wants to cause trouble for us, there’s no way they would stop there. They should’ve made a move by now.”

“I agree.” Jongdae stands, offering Baekhyun a nod. “Let’s meet up with the others for a meeting soon and talk about this. I think the older hyungs may have a better idea of what to do. Yixing might have more knowledge about the blood transfer idea.” Jongdae hovers by the door, before turning and giving Baekhyun a small smile. “Good luck with the pregnancy.”

Baekhyun feels a sharp pang in his chest. “Thanks.”

You wake up to a body pressed gently against your back. You smile, turning and finding Baekhyun’s sleeping face. He looks so tired, dark circles under his eyes and his skin even paler than usual.

Pressing a hand to his cheek, it’s freezing. You frown. Has he been feeding properly? He’s cut back his feeding frequency, but could it be that he’s stopped altogether in order to spend more time researching?

You lean up to kiss him softly, feeling him stir against you, his eyes snapping open. You feel guilty for waking him up, even though he probably just got into bed. It’s been happening more ever since you became pregnant, but it’s still unusual for him to sleep with you like this. “Sorry, go back to sleep.”

He mumbles something, pulling you as close as your baby bump allows. His breath is cold against your forehead and you shiver. “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Good.” You can’t help the smile that grows on your face. You try your best to warm him up by wrapping your arms around him and pressing even closer to him. “Baby kicks in the middle of the night sometimes and I have to go to the bathroom a lot, but I’m happy.”

“That’s good.” He sighs against your hair, and you feel him relax. “What time is it?”

“It’s ten in the morning.”

He let’s out a soft groan. “Go, get some breakfast. I’ll be sleeping.”

“Alright.” You push yourself up, pecking him on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. You’ll be sure to let him sleep for a few hours at least.

Baekhyun blinks awake, finding a sliver of sunlight creeping in from the small gap between the curtains. That tells him it’s still daylight, he hasn’t slept nearly enough. He can hear some laughter downstairs from the Pets, Thorn’s voice standing out to him the most. He guesses it’s around mid-afternoon.

He pushes himself groggily out of bed, stumbling back to his own room. Though it’s comfortable in Thorn’s room, he finds himself too thirsty when he stays in there too long. She just smells so good.

He eyes the bed and wonders if he should get some more sleep. But he had a strange dream that gave him an unusual idea, something seems to click inside him, so Baekhyun chooses to sit down on his desk.

Baekhyun scribbles into his notebook again, history books and medical books open, scattered about on the desk and on the floor. He hadn’t bothered cleaning anything up. Talking with Jongdae last night cleared up some of his thoughts. Vocalizing them really helped him think, and hazy dream he had making a sliver of anxiety begin to brew. He churns ideas and theories and crazy speculation in his mind, scrawling them down in hopes to find some sort of coherency in all this mess.

And finally, he writes down a name that makes his mouth dry, his hands tremble.

Surely it’s not true. Surely he’s just being paranoid, anxious about the pregnancy and about Thorn’s fate. Surely he’s mistaken somehow, and picked up the wrong hints. Yes, that’s right. There’s nothing to make him speculate. No reason for this person to do such a thing.

But deep down he feels so uneasy.

He writes it right under Victoria’s name. He circles it, draws an arrow upwards, connecting their names and then by the side writes, “blood research?”

Could it be?

Thank you so much for reading Eternal. From this point forward, the remaining chapters can only read by paid members on AFF.

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!!SPOILERS FOR JANUARY 4TH FESTIVAL STREAM!!

disclaimer: i can’t talk about everything because i have final exams next week and really should be studying so i can’t exactly go back and watch all the vods; i watched the entire thing from ranboo’s perspective and his acting was immaculate good on him. everyone that i discuss in this ramble are, of course, their characters, and not the actual ccs.

holy shit holy SHIT i cannot THINK brain go brrrrrr

okay i need to split this up because i physically cannot disentangle the jumble my brain and emotions are in right now my mind is just a pile of scrambled eggs

predictions??? or well thoughts about tomorrow

one of the things i thought of right away was clingyduo losing their last canon lives together, though this is on shaky ground because i seriously doubt “season two” (for lack of a better word) of the dream smp would end so quickly after season one, and because tommy and tubbo are both such huge catalysts for events happening on the smp, this seems pretty unlikely (they’re both too important for them to end up as a casual death for the sake of moving the plot along, there are a lot of other characters who aren’t on their final canon lives or even some that are that might die if the writers really wanted that bit of oomf, though i don’t really think it’s necessary for any perma-deaths to occur tomorrow). that said, i think toward the end of the smp storyline, or at least once it’s hit a steady storyline or has been around for long enough, it might be really poetic for certain things to come to an end with clingyduo dying together - it ties up the first arc of the dream smp, how everything began, and now how everything ends (this is how the world ends, indeed). also, tommy kept bringing up the fact that he and tubbo are on their final canon lives, and while i think this is mostly just a “bait the audience to subvert expectations at the last moment” move (as happened today kind of with tommy joining tubbo’s side), it’s interesting to hear that particular half of clingyduo contemplating his own mortality.

i think there’s a pretty low chance of niki joining dream and techno, despite my wishful thinking because i think she’d be a great asset to those two in making the l’manberg side falter emotionally and because she’s excellent at organising her thoughts and presenting a really solid argument, something that both dream and techno are just kinda okay at. we saw from niki’s argument that she has torn loyalties - plenty of characters do, but she’s pretty unique in that neither of the reasons she’s fighting for line up that much with techno and dream (i also like that niki’s the one who comes out and says outright that her loyalties are torn because she doesn’t like tommy). she clearly makes the distinction between fighting with tommy and fighting for l’manberg - she’s fighting for l’manberg - and for her, l’manberg outweighs all else. that’s the reason why she’s fighting on tommy’s side - because she knows that dream and techno will destroy what she’s fought so hard to keep whole and safe all this time, throughout the time she’s been on the smp. enemy of my enemy is my friend, all that.

pandora’s vault. MATE. it’s huge and we all know it. i think it’s possible that dream wants to throw everyone who opposes him into the prison - it’s large enough and secure enough to accommodate - but i don’t think he will, because current dream (and i want to make a distinction between current and early dream, because they’re so polar opposite that i’m inclined to believe something’s going on behind the scenes, probably associated with the book schlatt gave him, shoutout to dr3 @dr3amt3am3 on twitter for writing an excellent analysis of dream’s character) is motivated around causing chaos by using everyone. think eris from greek mythology when she tossed the golden apple between athena, hera, and aphrodite - he dips a toe in the water and all the fish fucking jump. he doesn’t need to make the mess because one little push and everyone makes the mess for him. so, no, i don’t think pandora’s vault will be used to imprison all those who oppose him. i know a lot of theories have been floating around about whether it’ll be tommy or phil or techno - those three seem to be the top contenders - and i think i’d like to plump for tommy, who’s probably the one dream wants to see suffer the most and is capable of causing the most damage - after all, look at him rallying the people of l’manberg with just a few sentences after he spent the last month condemned by them.

there was probably more but i have sbi brainrot now let’s move on

wherein i become an staunch techno apologist

i may be on tommy’s side, but i don’t agree with his reasoning or how he acted today. yeah, i said it. yes, he’s been deeply traumatised since election night, arguably even further back, what with being the sole witness as wilbur spiralled and watching his best friend get brutally murdered and being unable to stop techno from razing the nation he helped plant the seeds of to the ground and seeing wilbur get stabbed by their father and exile, gaslighting, panic attacks, this kid needs a goddamn break. but i vibe with techno’s ideals and actions a fair bit more than i do tommy’s. the fact of the matter is, technoblade has always been completely transparent about why he was doing things the way he did them and what they were for (with the exception of a few lies of omission to tommy about what he wanted to happen to l’manberg). from day one he’s made it clear that he’s an anarchist and that what he wants is to abolish the government, and he genuinely believes that anarchy is for the greater good. from techno’s perspective, he’s not wrong - every single problem on the server can be traced back to some form of government or political turmoil, from l’manberg’s fight for independence to this latest festival fiasco. furthermore, when you look at it from an unbiased perspective, techno’s only ever really been used and discarded. he hasn’t instigated any conflicts on his own; he usually gets roped in by whoever’s running the movement, used as a weapon/items cache, then immediately thrown aside as the winners of the conflict establish exactly the opposite of techno’s beliefs. i have a lot of things to say about techno’s role in the smp because i get all angy about it, but for something zingy to leave you with - have you thought about how tommy and wilbur said “we have the blade” - a weapon, not a person?

rip community house ;-;7

yeah no it was almost definitely dream. tommy gains nothing from griefing the community house to that extent, especially not in this political climate (i know the argument can be made that he didn’t have to grief george’s house either, but that doesn’t have the connotations that the griefing of the community house does. no matter how reckless tommy is, i don’t believe that he’s stupid). dream has more to gain at this point from destroying the community house than tommy does, and this shows the audience a lot about current!dream; we know it’s true, now, what he said when he threatened tommy: “i don’t care about anything, actually.” he doesn’t. he said himself that the community house is the most sacred thing on the server, the oldest build, the first and only thing to have remained since the genesis of the dream smp, and so for him to have been the one to destroy it where he’s been so careful to preserve things from the old days of the smp (his pet fish, the community house, spirit) - shocking, the difference between early!dream and current!dream. he’s actually willing to go to literally any lengths to take tommy down, even at the cost of things he once valued above all else. interesting stuff. ((shakes the smug green bastard /smp)) TELL ME WHATS IN THAT BOOK YOU FUNGAL PIECE OF SHIT

applauding the smp members

because WOW that acting was SO FUCKING GOOD special shoutout to niki and ranboo because they fucking NAILED IT

okay i’m gonna go lie down and think about african lit for finals now thanks for reading this incomprehensible babble

Heyyy! I found your blog shortly after The Arena got its big makeover and I didn’t pay too much attention to the other wizards descriptions, so do you have any info/headcanons on them? (determinedowl23)

!!!! You have no idea I have so many headcanons! First tho if u want info: scroll down to the list of arena npcs and you can click on them to get their old in game appearance, name, title, and description (the descriptions are like 1-2 sentences long.)

As for headcanons I have a bunch in the 'arena wizard blogging tag' on here already (so far I've done a headcanon post for Gina, Cameron, Bannard, Flora, Nick, Lillian, and George, but I also have a bunch of other random headcanons in the tag) but to answer your ask here's a quick long highlight reel of my favorite headcanon(s) about each wizard! Some of these are things I've shared before, but some r about people I've never talked about before :) there are 20 characters and I'm bad at being succinct, so strap in folks

Gina has bad luck, or she tends to end up as the target of every spell or piece of machinery that goes awry and she can't do anything about it because she sucks at magic too much to levitate it away lmao

Crios didn't want to be friends with Cameron, cameron just followed him around until he was worn down and just got used to having him around all the time. Now he's so used to him that despite his constant complaining about cameron, he will be even more annoyed if he doesn't have him there to be annoying and do errands for crios.

Bonus cameron one because he's my favorite: his hair is naturally curly and black, he just dyed it to look more like crios. Funnily enough, crios's hair isn't actually naturally orange either.

Mila tends to hang around young wizards more than the wizards at her level, she thinks they're more open minded (which is kind of because they don't have common sense, but she considers that helpful to 'thinking outside the box') and she has a lot of fun mentoring them.

Benjamyn is best friends with fuschia, because thanks to growing up with sisters he's always gotten along better with the girls at school than the boys. Also that leather apparel is hot as heck, but he doesn't take it off because he's just a cold lad man

Fuschia has an eye for small details and is especially good at judging whether people are kind/genuine or not. Some rumor that her pet mystyyk can sense that she has a pure heart and that that's why it chose her, but in reality it's just because she lured it I with lots of treats :3

I've said this one before but bannard is hard of hearing and has no idea what is going on half the time. He's fairly magically gifted and VERY good at scaring away monsters (it's because he never stops yelling) but he's kind of held back by not getting enough accommodations. He doesn't seem to care tho, he's just here to have a good time :)

I know the reason leena is called the metal head is because she likes rocks not metal music, but you can tear electric guitar playing leena from my cold dead hands <3

Finneas is a terrible influence on everyone he meets, he skips like half his classes lmao </3

The lunar wand was made for a werewolf, is it that farfetched to believe another type of shapeshifter might use it? Why are djinnas pets all fish based instead of ghost based if she's a spirit? Why would someone need to leave back and forth from the academy if they could get all their needs from land? DJINNAS A MERMAID PEOPLE WAKE UP-

Jess has an inferiority complex, seriously dude how's it feel to spend your whole life in the shadow of a twin who's just like you but way better and who's already finished school /lh

Flora sleeps upside down

I'm a Nick = Young Santa Claus truther but that's more of a theory than a headcanon, so other than that I think he's autistic and has a special interest in Christmas and thats why he involves it in a lot of things :) also he gives everyone gifts year round and uses Christmas decorations as fidget/stim toys

Not to do to autistic/special interest headcanons in a row buuut Lillian is also autistic and has a special interest in pets and you can fight me on that. Also Lillian lives with professor scoog (he's her uncle, don't question how that works) and they both loooove rambling about old and new pets to each other

Korathius is one of the only students who's lived on prodigy island his whole life, and him being raised by magic pets is the reason he's in the higher level ranking.

Jen has had several near death experiences.

On George's first day on the island he exploded half his hair and shirt, took apart the wheel of wonder (he tried to put it back together but it ended up falling onto gina when she leaned on it because he did a bad job), and accidentally caused a minor eruption in bonfire spire (he just wanted to see what would happen if you cast spells from underneath the lava, he thought they weren't working so he casted a LOT of light waves.)

Aurora is so mean <3 she will stab u with an icicle if you try to prank you or sneak into her house (which is a small ice castle she built on the iceberg she floated over on.)

I dont have a lot of nova headcanons, shes just a nice gal, u know? She makes really good cookies if its worth anything

Crios is a sore ass loser, he probably decided to start dueling out of spite. Also, he's the one who beat the dark tower the canon where your wizard isn't there.

So yeah! I love them, arena wizards my beloved <33 if u want more headcanons about specific characters or topics feel free to ask, although I'd guess after reading all that you'd be ready for a break LOL. Thanks for the ask!!

Survey #442

“the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right?”

Would you ever sell your soul? No. Do you believe that something is going to happen in 2012? Welp, clearly not. I never believed it. Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? No, but I'd love to! When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? Uhhh not since I visited Sara, I think. Do you like your music loud or at a reasonable level? Loud, for sure. Louder than I should listen to. Did the last person you kiss have a tattoo? No. What’s the last song you heard? "The Bird and the Worm" by The Used. Has anyone told you they missed you lately? No. What are you most likely to do when you’re exhausted; take a nap, drink some coffee, or go for a run to get yourself pumped up again? Naps definitely win. What are you most likely to pick if you got to choose your topic on a research paper; drug abuse, mental illness, or the death penalty? Mental illness, for sure. What is your favorite month of the year and why? October, bc aesthetic. What’s your least favorite animal? Probably wasps. They're mean fuckers that kill bees. What was your class song when you graduated? Some super shitty country song. Have you ever had to spend the night outside (not camping)? No. What`s the scariest living animal that you`ve petted? A tarantula, I'd say. She was a sweet rose hair that I literally did pet, which you absolutely should not do to tarantulas, but I knew nothing about them at the time. The urticating hairs on their abdomens cause serious itching, and I tell ya, that sure happened. So did you play old school Nintendo or Atari or Sega? If so which one? We had an old Atari for a long time. When/where did you meet your first love? In the hallway, during my sophomore year of high school. Is there anyone you dislike, that you have to see/speak to regularly? Hm, what qualifies as "regularly," really? I don't like my sister's husband, who I see semi-regularly, but I don't really talk to him. Does your family eat any unique foods for Thanksgiving that aren’t the norm? If so, what are they? Nah, not that I can think of. If you eat oatmeal, do you add water or milk to it? What is your favorite flavor? Milk; I don't like it with water. I only eat the apples and cinnamon kind. Was the last video you watched on YouTube a music video? If not, what was it of? It's a let's play. Have you ever been brave enough to cut your hair in a very different way? If you have, did you regret your decision after? Yes, and I still love it. What was the last book you had to read for school? Did you enjoy it, or were you just trying to get through? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I loved it. Has anyone you know personally ever won the lottery? If so, how much did they win? Would/have you ever play(ed) the lottery? No to both questions. I have a very addictive personality, so I don't really mess with dangerous things that might tempt that behavior. What band/celebrity/etc. do you know the most information about? Who would you like to learn more about? Markiplier, ha ha. As for who I'd like to know more about... hm. Have your friends met the last person you kissed? Girt has. Who has made the biggest difference in your life? Jason. You get a text from someone saying that they want to hang out - who would you most like it to be from? Also Jason. -_- What is the name on your birth certificate (feel free to withhold your last name for privacy reasons)? Brittany Marie is all you need to know. Even if shopping isn’t your favorite... every girl has a favorite store. What’s yours? My favorite physical store is Hot Topic, but my favorite store overall is Rebel's Market, which I'm pretty sure is just an online source. Which type of undies do you wear most: Thongs, bikini/briefs, bootyshorts, or granny panties? Don't you dare laugh, I prefer "granny panties" lmfao. They're what I'm comfortable in, okay. How many nail polishes do you have, if you were to take a guess? *I* have none. Idk about Mom, but I know not a lot. Are you on birth control? Do you use condoms? I use birth control to regulate my period and ease cramps. If I was sexually active though, both would be musts for me. When did you start your period? How did you react? Who did you tell first? When I got home from school sometime in middle school. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I was EXTREMELY upset. Like, I cried, because I didn't feel like a kid anymore. My mom was the first to know. Have you ever had sex while on your period? If so, would you ever do it again? NO NO NO NO THAT SOUNDS SO GROSS LKASDFJ;AJW;LKERJA;WEJLRKQWLKE;JR. Which way do you swing (boys, girls, or both)? I'm bi. Or pan. I really don't know. Tell me ALL about your longest/most serious relationship. Are you still in that relationship? How about I don't, because doing that I'm sure will send me in a PTSD spiral. No, we're no longer together. Who is your ALL TIME best friend (don’t count your boyfriend, either, silly!)? Sara. I don't think I've been as close with any other best friend. Which one of your friends has the best singing voice? SARAAAAAAAAAAA. What shade are you in foundation or concealer? I don't have a clue. I don't wear either. Have you ever showered with someone? Boy or girl? Were you completely naked? "Were you completely naked." No, I shower with underwear on. I've showered with my little sister as well as my best friend as a kid. I've never shared a shower as an adult and don't want to. Do you think you’re good enough for the person you like? No. Are you a cuddler or no? If I'm really into you, YUP. And if it's not hot. Wouldn’t it be kinda annoying to have to share a bed every night? No. I miss it sometimes. Have you ever walked on a beach at night? Yes. It's beautiful. Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Pretty easily, yeah. Would you marry someone you didn’t love if you were paid 10 thousand dollars? No. I just wouldn't be able to stomach doing that. I'm solely marrying for love. Have you had sex today? I haven't in many years. Do you still care about your last ex? Very very much! Do you own more then one bathing suit? Nope. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? Yeah, but none I like. Who have you recently made up with after fighting? Nobody. Who do you WANT to make up with? Jason. Megan. Do you get scared easily? Hm. It really depends on the situation. Have you seen UP? Never the full movie, actually. I need to. How many coats of mascara do you use? I use it so rarely that I barely know. Two, maybe? What’s your favorite bracelet? The one Sara gave me. I used to always wear it, but it's worn down with time and is too loose for me now, so it's just with my jewelry. What color hair does your mom have? It's naturally gray now, but she dyes it black. Favorite song to listen to when you are mad? "Headache" by Motionless In White does it. What restaurant would you want to work at? NONE. I ain't working with hungry people. I don't want to work with people - period. When people ask “how are you?” do you say “good” even if you aren’t? Depends on who's asking. If it's a stranger or someone I barely know, odds are I'm just going to reply with "fine" or something like that. Were you honestly a good kid? Yes. Is anything wrong with your eyes? I have to wear glasses, so. Have you kissed or hugged anyone today? No. What is your mom’s and dad’s favorite TV show? I don't really know for either. Mom watches loads of shows, and I don't live with Dad, so. I know he really likes The Big Bang Theory, though, which Mom also loves. Have you ever suspected your mom or dad of having an affair? No, but ~supposedly~, Dad did with his now-wife. I don't know what the fuck is true between my parents, though. Do you think buying second hand clothes is gross? It depends on the type of clothing (ex., used underwear is a huge fucking no), as well as the state it's in. Does it gross you out when your parents kiss? They're divorced. That would be incredibly weird, uncomfortable, and impossible with how I know at least Mom feels towards Dad. Do you have a playlist made on YouTube? Yeah, multiple. Do you like dollar stores? I mean, sure? They have good deals occasionally and are a good option to stop for a quick snack or something. Mom doesn't actually *shop* in them, though. What’s the last thing you bought from one? I think a honeybun. Do you think it’s weird how babies are made? Well, yeah. Science can be crazy, though. Have you ever lost a friend over the opposite sex? No. Are you comfortable in a short skirt? I wouldn't be comfortable in ANY skirt. Do you and your family go on a vacation ever year? We essentially never do. Vacations cost money. We don't have money to spare. When you were going out with your last ex and you had the chance to date your celebrity crush, would you have left your bf/gf for them? No, because it's not like I know him personally, while I know her very deeply. Who was your most romantic moment with? Jason. Do you sweat easily? Like you wouldn't BELIEVE. A side effect of one (or even multiple) of my meds is hyperhidrosis, so I can sweat an ocean in two minutes, it seems. It's disgusting, and I am so self-conscious about it. What’s one memory you wish would just vanish? Just a specific moment with Jason that is particularly agonizing to recall. Are you in love with someone? No. Partying or watching a movie? Partying isn't my thing. I'd have more fun watching a movie with friends. What pisses you off the most? Child molesters/rapists, probably. Where do you want to be at a year from now? I just want a job by then, dude. I also hope I've lost a lot of weight. Do you like pickles? Only dill pickles. If you saw someone broken down on the side of the road, would you stop to help? Honestly, no. I don't trust people. What do you do with your plastic grocery bags after you unload your things? We put our plastic bags into one big bag for later use. Have you ever slept in a water bed? Yes. How often do you use Flickr? I don't. I only ever check my friend's for meerkat photos, ha ha. Share three nice memories you have of the person you fell hardest for. No, unless you want me to cry. Have you ever made any of your friends cry? Not deliberately of course, but yes. Do you look decent in your most recent photograph? God no, I look high. Out of all the guys you know, who would you trust to not cheat on you? Girt. I know he never would, especially because HE'S been cheated on. How do you plan on disciplining your children? NOT by physical means, I can tell you that much. If I actually had kids, I'd teach them through (hopefully) primarily deeply talking things out. If need be, there'd be time out, grounding, things like that. I do NOT support methods like spanking your kid, so that's a big no. If you could live in another country, would you? What country? Yes; Canada. If you could change your name, what would you change it to? Quinn, probably. What’s one health problem you wish you didn’t have? It's a tie between depression and anxiety. What is your cure for hiccups? NOTHING works for me. It's the worst. Did you ever do anything in class that annoyed other students? I mean, I don't think so. Have you used a Ouija board and had a freaky experience with it? I've never messed with one, and I don't want to. I don't know if I believe in their supernatural abilities or not, but I ain't fuckin around and finding out. Do you stick with a political party, or vote for who you like best? I pick based on their policies and morals, not necessarily their party. Do you know anyone who is an albino? No. Word search or crossword puzzle? Word searches. When you watch a game show, do you like to see people win or lose? Aw, who wants to see them lose? It's great to see people win and be so excited. Do you have a pair of fake redneck, vampire, etc. teeth? No. What is your favorite Pixar film? Finding Nemo. Do you get really mad when you lose a game? Not at all. I'm not very competitive, and games are about having fun. When was the last time you used a pay phone? I actually don't think I ever have. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? Jason. Do you go to church every Sunday? I never go to church as I'm not religious. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? Who the fuck cares. If they're comfortable and at least have a shirt on, let 'em. Most women have breasts, big whoop. Do you even like politics? God no. What’s it like at raves? Oh god, I'd never go. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? lol yes

Part Two: Who’s A Good Boy? (Dog Dean Afternoon S09E05)

Episode Summary: While investigating two bizarre murders, Y/N and the boys realize there is an eyewitness to both gruesome deaths–a German Shepard. Anxious to find out what monsters they are dealing with, the three look up a spell that can help communicate with the dog. When Dean decides to be the one to perform the spell, he quickly realizes it comes with side effects no one saw coming. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,741.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

By the next morning you and the boys could add another body to the list. A young man was murdered late into the evening, at an animal shelter of all places. You had a feeling it wasn't a coincidence from the one you were looking into. Both of them dealt with animals in the location of where they were killed, but the difference between the two was how it was done. Max had his body contorted in a violent manner, the newest victim's body was covered in his own blood after being clawed to death. You took one more good observation before the body bag was zipped up and the coroner pushed him out to the van, where the man would be shipped off to the morgue.

“Claw marks?” Dean noted the different cause of death. 

"Yeah. The cops said all the cats went missing." Sam added on to the weird factor of the case. You didn't understand why someone would go through all the trouble to steal all the felines from the shelter only to leave the rest of the animals. You highly doubted there was a crazy cat lady/animal lover behind both of these murders.

You passed by the dog kennels as you and the boys made your way through the shelter, all abandoned for one reason of another and in need of adoption. All their little faces and adorable eyes made your heart melt. What you wouldn't do to be able to give them all a good permanent home. "Right, so," You focused your attention back onto the conversation. "Yesterday we're dealing with some sort of snake monster. Today it's a killer kitty. Makes sense."

"Hey." Dean stopped at a particular cage when he spotted a German Shepard that he swore he saw before. "Why does that mutt look familiar?"

You reached out to grab the clipboard and glanced at the dog's information to see what his name was. Dean was right. You had seen him yesterday. "That was the taxidermist's dog."

"So, he's been at both crime scenes?" Dean found all of this to be more than just a simple coincidence. You merely shrugged your shoulders, Sam nodded at the similarities. "Maybe he’s a suspect. You know, may—" He stopped for a moment when he saw an officer passed by before continuing when the man was out of earshot, continuing on with his theory to who might be to blame for this. The dog sitting inside the kennel. "Could be a skinwalker, maybe a shapeshifter."

You stared at the German Shepherd, who merely sat there with his tongue wagging out, the sight alone made you smile from how innocent he looked. "Doesn't look like a monster to me." You crouched down so you were at level with the dog and stuck your fingers through the fencing, letting the Colonel move forward and sniff your skin to get your smell. When he felt comfortable enough you scratched under his chin. "More like a handsome boy."

"One way to find out." Dean took out a silver dollar from his pocket and sank down to the ground next to you. "Come here, boy. Hey. This isn't gonna hurt at all. Unless it hurts"

Dean rubbed the coin behind one of the Colonel's ears, and like you suspected, nothing out of the ordinary happened. "Huh. Guess we can rule out killer." You said. You scratched one of the dog's ears, smiling in delight from how he reacted. "Isn't that right, boy?"

You pulled your hand out of the cage and pushed yourself up to your feet right when the Colonel changed his tune. You watched as he went from a content dog to barking at the stranger who approached from behind. You looked over your shoulder to see that it was just the sheriff. For some reason the Colonel did not like him.

"Do you agents need any further assistance?" He asked. You noticed right as the sheriff took off his hat the barking stopped. You didn't think much of it. You presumed the Colonel who the stranger was and stopped.

"Officer, I think we're okay." Sam said. "Thanks."

“All right, well,” The sheriff nodded. “let me know.”

You noticed right when he put his hat back on the Colonel started barking again. Dean picked up the observation as well. He pushed himself back up to his feet and stopped the sheriff from going anywhere, needing to test a possible theory from asking a strange favor from the man. “Officer. Excuse me, can I borrow your hat?”

The sheriff willingly handed over his hat. You watched as Dean turned over to the kennel and merely placing the hat over his head caused the Colonel to erupt into barking again. Right as he took it off, the barking stopped. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked over at the boys, each of you seeming to have the same idea. You heard the sheriff make a remark about the kind of trouble the dog was going to have getting adopted before being on his way. It was something more. You turned your attention back to the German Shepard as he continued barking before the man was gone.

“Okay, so, the Colonel’s not a suspect.” Sam said, noticing himself about the strange reaction.

“Yeah, but he’s a witness.” Dean mumbled. “Hey, boy. You speak sign language?”

“That’s monkeys.” Sam corrected his brother on the animals he was thinking about. “You know what? This is gonna sound crazy. I read this book about this guy who tried to teach his dog to speak after it witnessed a murder.”

“And it worked?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask out of curiosity to see if it was a success, despite how you chuckled at the bizarre idea. Sam shook his head. “But he wrote a book about it?”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t have what we have.” Sam said. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the number of someone who was able to help you. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. “Kevin. Hey, it’s me. How do we speak to a dog?”

+ + +

To say you were excited about spending the afternoon with the German Shepard was an understatement. You ignored Dean’s annoyed stares and remarks from having the dog ride in the backseat with you and the chance of getting the interior ruined. You needed the Colonel in order to figure out who killed his owner. And he was on his best behavior. You sat on the floor of the motel while Sam gathered all the supplies you would need to make the spell in order to speak to the dog.

"You are just so handsome." You cooed at the German Shepherd, petting him and scratching behind his ear when you found a spot he liked the most. "I think this might be my favorite hunt we've ever done. A cute face like yours will get adopted in no time. Who's a good boy? It's you. Yes, you are."

"Don't get too attached to the mutt. We're not keeping him." Dean reminded you. He didn't understand why you were gushing over the dog. It wasn't like you were going to be able to keep him. He wasn't a personal fan of dogs. Didn't understand what the big hype was about. They bark at the smallest things, not to mention how they liked to shed everywhere. It was like having a child covered in fur. "We're doing the spell, figuring out who killed his owner and it's back to the pound."

"I know that. But it's not everyday we get to work with such a pretty dog. German Shepherds have always been my favorite. I wanted one as a kid. But my mom was allergic." You explained to the older Winchester why you were attached to the Colonel. You smiled and continued speaking to the dog in the kind of childlike voice Dean always found irritating. You praised the mutt for doing nothing but sitting there. Despite how this annoyed him with everyone else, he had to admit he liked seeing you so happy. It’d been a while since he got to see how your face lit up and with a genuine smile. You seemed to notice the older man’s pessimistic behavior. "He's a grump. Dean doesn't like dogs. But how can you not love such a cute face?"

You softly patted the Colonel one last time before you got back up from the ground when the door to the room opened, revealing Sam with all the ingredients you would need for the spell. You made your way over to the table to get started. However you felt a nudge on your knee, distracting you from participating. A smile crept on your lips when you saw the Colonel was back at your side. He rested his head on your lap and stared at you with those puppy dog eyes. You playfully rolled your eyes before you went on petting him, listening as Sam got started.

“An inuit spell?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Sam said. You watched as he reached for another ingredient and mixed it into the plastic bowl he found in the motel that was supposed to be used for ice. “Who knew the Men of Letters had its own Eskimo section?”

“I swear, you discover something new in that place.” You mumbled to yourself. “And it’s supposed to let us communicate with the Colonel?”

“Yeah, well, that’s the plan.” Sam answered. He reached out and plucked a hair off the Colonel’s backside, the strange disruption from you scratching his head made the dog lift its head up from your lap to see what the younger man was doing. Sam dropped the hair into the bowl and stirred it into the mixture to make sure it was all combined together. “Kevin said it’s like a sort of human/animal mind meld.”

“Meaning?” Dean questioned his brother, wondering about the simplified version of the spell.

“If it works,” Sam explained to his brother as he poured a vial looking brown liquid into a clean cup. Your face scrunched up slightly from realizing that you were going to have to drink that for the chance to communicate with the Colonel someway. “we should be able to read the Colonel’s thoughts.”

“All right, I’ll do it.” The older Winchester declared, snatching the cup off the table before either you or his brother could jump on the opportunity. You let out a loud scoff from the move that he pulled, prompting you to give him a look to explain himself of why he wanted to do this.“You got enough on your plate, sweetheart.”

“Like, what?” You questioned him in a frustrated tone of voice.

"Uh, like...you're tired." Dean sniffed the drink before giving a bogus response. You quietly laughed from the answer even you knew was crap. You weren't tired. Sure, you weren't back to yourself one hundred percent, but you didn't understand why you couldn't do the spell. "You're on the mend. Okay? Plus, Sammy's got a sensitive stomach. Last thing we need is him chucking this stuff up. Huh?"

“You hate dogs.” You pointed out to him.

“No, I don’t.” Dean chuckled off the accusation. The Colonel turned his head and let out a quiet noise that sounded like a bark. You quietly laughed. Guess the dog disagreed. Dean rolled his eyes from the petty argument. He turned his attention to the drink that he had to unfortunately swallow. He had his fair share of weird food and drinks over the years, the stuff should have gone down easy. “Doesn’t look so bad.” Dean drank the entire thing like it was a shot. He let out a sigh from the aftertaste that lingered. “I was wrong.”

“You wanted to do it…” You muttered under your breath.

“Come on.” Dean waved a hand for his brother to fork over the words he needed to say to make the spell complete. He coughed a few times from the way the drink snuck up on him as it settled into his stomach with consequences. He managed to chant a few lines without barfing up the ingredients. You examined the Colonel to see if anything might happen. The dog continued to rest at your feet. “All right. Let’s get this party started. Tell me everything you know.” The Colonel responded by letting out a yawn. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” Dean amused himself with a corny joke as he let out a quiet chuckle. You and his brother didn’t think it was funny. “Tough crowd.”

The Colonel threw the man a bone when he lifted his head up and let out an unexpected bark. You raised your brow slightly and looked over at Dean, hoping somehow it was the dog’s way of communicating. Dean merely shook his head. You let out a quiet sigh from how the spell failed. Well, it was worth a shot.

+ + +

A little while later you and the boys settled down for a quick lunch as you discussed the next possible course of action. You weren't hungry as you thought you were. Every once in a while you ripped off a piece of your hamburger and fed it to the Colonel when the boys weren't looking. You felt like a kid feeding their unwanted vegetables to the family pet so you could be excused from dinner. He kept staring at you with those puppy dog eyes. You couldn't resist just giving him a treat. You’d find something else to snack on later like you normally did while you completed some more research.

“So, call Kevin.” Dean said. “Spell tasted like ass and it was a bust.”

“At least it didn’t affect your appetite.” You noted. “Geez. I’ve never seen you eat like that before. Take it slower next time. You’re not that young anymore.”

Dean rolled his eyes from your remark about his eating habits. He opened his mouth to try and excuse the reason for his ravenous appetite, but someone cut him off. “Change the station.” Dean heard a male voice come out of thin air. He turned his head head to the dog sitting next to him when he realized it wasn’t Sam complaining of the station he turned on the radio. The Colonel continued as he was while Dean observed him for any kind of change in behavior, his mouth hung open with a little bit of drool escaping his mouth. Dean heard the request again. “Change the station.”

“What?” Dean asked the dog for some kind of clarification. He wasn’t exactly sure how the spell might work if it actually did. Sam repeated after his brother, not sure himself of what was going on. When the older man did, he was quick to hush the both of you from trying to say anything else. The Colonel must’ve been speaking to the man telepathically. “You—shut up. It’s working!”

“It—go!” You hissed at the man.

“Say that again.” Dean told the dog.

“You call this classic rock? Next thing you know, they’ll be playing Styx.” The Colonel had an opinion on Dean’s music taste of all things. To say Dean was oddly offended would have been an understatement. One thing was for sure, he didn’t stand for something trashing his impeccable music taste. Not even a dog. “And Dennis DeYoung? A punk.”

“Dennis DeYoung’s not a punk.” Dean argued with the canine. “He’s Mr. Roboto, bitch.”

“Why are you arguing with the dog about Styx?” You asked him, becoming confused yourself at the one-sided conversation you were only able to hear.

Dean realized that you and Sam couldn’t hear the Colonel’s thoughts like he could. The man was having a full conversation with the mutt. “Wh—uh, yeah. Um, hey, boy.” Dean veered the conversation to the reason why he did the spell in the first place. “What were you trying to tell us about the cowboy hat?”

“The douche wheel who killed my best friend was wearing a cowboy hat.” The Colonel said. Dean wondered about the kid who was working at the shelter the night he was murdered. He was communicating with a dog. The man wasn’t sure if this was the weirdest thing he had ever done for a hunt. It was well up there. “Yep. Same guy killed both.”

“Ask about the cats.” Sam said, throwing his dirty rolled up napkins into the trash.

“Yeah, uh—” Dean was about to do that. But for some reason he was distracted by the ball Sam had thrown. He was overwhelmed with the urge to grab it from the trash can and placed it on the table. “And what about the cats?”

Sam picked up the napkin his brother fetched, unsure of why the man did it in the first place. “I don’t want this.”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t see much.” The Colonel said. Sam rolled up the napkin even more and tossed it once again into the trash hoping where it would stay there. “I didn’t exactly have the best view in the orphanage. Oh, but I could smell him. Guy reeked of red meat, dishwashing detergent and Tiger Balm.”

“So what’s he saying?” You asked the older man.

“Uh, that the—” Dean once again automatically reached for the napkin when he saw it be thrown across the table and into the trash. He tossed it back down on the table to Sam and went on with what he learned from the Colonel. “The guy smelled like ground chuck, and soap suds and old-lady cream.”

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked. Once again he picked up the napkin he tried to discard twice now, only to fail after his brother picked it up like it was some kind of ball.

You noticed Dean was scratching behind his ear without much thought, like it was second nature. He shrugged his shoulders at his own behavior. “I don’t know.” He said. It seemed he wasn’t even aware of his strange actions that weren’t like him. The Colonel found it amusing when he titled his head and started laughing. Dean didn’t find it the least bit funny. “Oh, what are you laughing at?”

The Colonel was about to break the news to the man, until his ears picked up something that sounded like a car door sliding shut. He knew that noise. Suddenly he started barking like how he had at the shelter. Instead this time it was for an enemy all dogs shared. The expression that crossed Dean’s face was laser focused. He had the overwhelming urge to jump out of his seat and head straight to the window, and that’s exactly what he did. You felt your mouth part open in complete shock as the Colonel joined him, the dog jumped onto his hind legs as he peeked through the curtains to spot the mailman. Dean started banging his hand against the window as the Colonel continued barking upscenely, both trying to appear threatening to the stranger.

“Hey! Hey, hey! Yeah!” Dean shouted at the mailman just trying to do his job, only to be stopped by a grown man who was desperately trying to get his attention. For some reason the man pointed a finger at the stranger and shouted words at him, like he was trying to get his attention and seem threatening. “You! You!” The Colonel continued to bark as Dean did the same with his own words. “Hey, hey! You! You! You!”

Dean repeated after himself several more times until he saw the mailman go on his way, brushing off the man’s odd behavior. He felt himself let out a growl in frustration. “Hey! Stop that!” You were giving the command to the Colonel in an attempt to get him to try and behave, little did you think it would have the same effect on Dean. “Come on. Sit down.”

The Colonel did as he was told. He stopped barking and made his way back over to you where he dropped down to your feet. Dean followed just a second after. You smiled at how well the Colonel followed commands, it earned him another scratch under the chin you noticed how much he enjoyed. Dean found himself growing annoyed from the thought he was able to hear about how the Colonel could get used to this kind of treatment from you.

“Hey, hey. Don’t get cozy, pal.” Dean grumbled to the dog. “She’s my female, not yours.”

You suddenly stopped what you were doing at the words that came out of Dean's mouth. You turned your head to "I’m your what?" You asked, not sure if you should be weirded out or start laughing. It took you a second to realize what was going on when you saw Dean scratching behind his ear. Playing fetch. Barking at the mailman. You felt your lips stretch into an amused smile. “I think the spell worked. In fact, I think it worked a little too well.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“I think…you might be a dog.” Sam broke the news to his brother, trying his hardest not to laugh himself at the irony of the situation. The older Winchester was slowly becoming something he hated. Dean didn’t understand what the both of you were trying to get at, despite seeing the evidence. “You’re scratching your head. You’re barking at the mailman. You’re playing fetch.”

Dean opened his mouth and tried to deny the claim that sounded absurd to him. However the man was faced with the reality of the situation when Sam threw the napkin into the trash and for the third time Dean tried to grab it. He managed to stop himself when he realized what he was about to do. The urge to continue playing this game was strong, but Dean managed to refrain himself. He found himself letting out a low whimper. He wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t play, or it was the fact that he had the urges of a canine.

“Ruh-roh.”

+ + +

You had to admit at first you found Dean acting like a dog a bit funny. From playing fetch with his brother by accident to him subconsciously scratch behind his ear when neither you or Sam were paying much attention. It stopped being funny when he started getting clingy. Dean wasn’t much of an affectionate person on the surface. His actions spoke louder than his words. And his actions were showing you that he didn’t want to leave your side. You had to push him away several times when he was overwhelmed with the urge to sniff you like a bloodhound. He complimented you by saying that you smelled nice—like fresh fruit from your shampoo you used this morning, the hamburger you had for lunch, and chocolate from the bar you snuck in your bag. You could have done without knowing what you reeked of.

What pushed you over the edge was when he tried sitting in your lap after moving from the table to the edge of the motel bed. He needed to follow you wherever you went. He claimed it was an accident. You were about to yell at him to stay away from you, but the look in his eye—that stupid puppy dog pout, made you roll your eyes in frustration and compromise with the man. He was sitting right next to you with your shoulders bumping against one another. You swore he chuckled to himself when you gave him and whispered a thank you to the damn dog. You swore the Colonel taught him a trick on ways to get you to do what he wanted with a simple look. You refrained from making any remarks when you broke off a piece of chocolate and shoved a piece into your mouth.

“Yeah. No, that—okay. Alright. Thanks.” Sam finished his call up with Kevin after trying to find more out about the consequences of the spell his brother willingly decided to drink without thinking twice. You looked over at the man when you heard him end the conversation. “So, apparently, the inuit spell has some side effects.”

“Oh, well, that would have been nice to know before I downed it!” Dean grumbled in frustration at the situation at hand. “What kind of side effects?”

“When you mind meld with an animal, it’s…possible to start exhibiting some of its behavior.” Sam explained to his brother the bad news.

Dean turned his gaze over to the Colonel who sat right across from you, as if he had any answers that might help stiffen the blow of what the older Winchester put himself through. “Don’t look at me, hoss.” The dog said. “It ain’t my fault.”

“Well, how long am I gonna have the urge to…” Dean didn’t want to say it out loud, afraid how you and his brother were going to react. The Colonel didn’t miss a beat when he said exactly what the man was thinking. Dean chuckled in nervousness at hearing it out loud. He shook his head. “Oh, whoa. Hey. I don’t have the urge to sniff butts.”

“Yet.” The Colonel warned.

You nearly choked on the piece of candy you accidentally decided to swallow right when Dean decided to say the inappropriate sentence out loud. “What?” You didn’t know why you sounded so surprised from hearing the behavior. Dogs were notorious for their odd behavior when it came to their other fellow species. You slid down the bed to give the both of you a few inches apart, never breaking eye contact with him. “Do you really have the—”

“No!” Dean shouted. He was suddenly filled with embarrassment from the question you asked him. “Come on!”

“Well, Kevin doesn’t know how long it’ll last. It’s not like it’s an exact science, you know?” Sam gave his brother more bad news. Dean reached out and ripped the candybar out of your hands. He needed a little pick-me-up for the situation he was in. “But hopefully, when the spell wears off, so will the side effects.”

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you.” The Colonel warned him from doing something stupid. Dean froze in his spot with a piece of chocolate hanging between his lips, not seeming to understand what the big deal was. "Chocolate? Seriously."

Dean let the piece of candy fall out from his mouth and drop back down to his lap before he could pull a stupid move. You shook your head and ripped the chocolate bar out from his hands. The three of you needed to figure out who was behind the cat-nappings and the two murders. You folded the candybar back up and threw it back into your bag for later. You got up from the bed and tried to get your jacket that was hanging off the back of the chair. All you could manage was taking a step before you were crashing into Dean. You let out a frustrated sigh when he was continuing the habit of following you.

“Good thing you’re cute.” You mumbled to him. You had to excuse his behavior from the way Dean was acting. He couldn’t help himself. But there was one line you didn’t want to cross. “If you start humping my leg, I’ll put you down myself.”

Dean swallowed and nodded his head in agreement. You clipped on the Colonel’s leash and followed behind the boys as all of you made your way out into the motel parking lot. Your time with the dog was nearing the end. But you had a possible theory that if Dean was acting like a canine, maybe he could communicate with others. There were several animals at the shelter who witnessed the crime. It was worth a shot. You had no possible leads other than the killer liked to wear a cowboy hat.

“Where are we headed?” The Colonel asked out of curiosity.

“Back to the shelter.” Dean informed him.

“To sniff out more clues,” The dog wondered. “maybe dig up something we missed?”

“All right, one more doggy pun out of you, and I’m gonna have your nuts clipped.” Dean warned the dog of a punishment.

“I hate to break it to you, hoss.” The Colonel broke the news to Dean about the operation his owner had done when he was still a mere puppy. “My sacks’ emptier than Santa’s after Christmas.”

As if today couldn’t get any worse Dean watched as the Impala’s windshield became dirty from a white blob that fell out from the sky. Some bird just pooped on his ride. And he cleaned Baby right before the hunt. “Aw, are you kidding me?” He grumbled. Dean looked to see it was a pigeon who was to blame. It sat on top of a street lamp with perfect range to drop another load on the Impala. “Hey, dick move, pigeon!”

“Screw you, asshat.”

“Did—” Dean thought he was only able to communicate with the Colonel. It came as a shock when the pigeon talked back to him. You and Sam were finding all of this amusing from an outsider’s perspective, having no clue the discovery Dean made. He looked down at the Colonel for some kind of answers. “Wait a minute. Can I hear all animals?”

“Yep. Animals have a universal language—like esperanto.” He said. “But this one actually caught on.”

“And I’m just getting started, too.” The pigeon said. “Brewing a real big one. Ha! Bet your ride’s gonna look sweet in white.”

“What’s he saying?” You asked, looking up at the pigeon.

“You—he’s being a douchebag!” Dean shouted in annoyance. 

“Who are you calling ‘douchebag,’ douchebag?” The pigeon mocked back at the man.

“Oh, shut it, you winged rat!” The older Winchester yelled. 

“Hey. Calm down.” You whispered to him, chuckling nervously to yourself when you saw a few people notice the strange behavior Dean was showing. It appeared to be the man was having a one-sided conversation with the pigeon that couldn’t talk back. “Just get in the car.”

“Ha, ha. That’s right, Sally.” The pigeon taunted, thinking he won the fight against the human with the last word. “Go cry to Mama.”

“Oh, that’s it, you son of a bitch!”

Dean whipped out his gun and pointed it up at the bird, ready to shoot the damn thing out of the sky. Before he could do something stupid and get all of you arrested, you managed to grab him by the arm and pinned it back down to his side. "That's enough!" You hissed at him. "Stop acting like a damn fool and get your ass in the car!"

You shoved him towards the backseat where you put the Colonel in as Sam awkwardly waved at a few bystanders who witnessed the whole ordeal. You rolled your eyes in frustration and got into the passenger side, letting Dean’s punishment be to sit with the dog since he wanted to act like one.

+ + +

The ride to the shelter was an interesting one at that. Dean insisted on having all the windows rolled down to let in some fresh air. However you noticed it for another reason when both Dean and the Colonel stuck their heads out to enjoy the breeze. You tried your hardest to stifle a laugh you felt coming on from seeing the joy on Dean's face of feeling the breeze against his face that caused an adorable grin. When you got to the shelter and the Impala came to a stop, Dean immediately broke out of his behavior when he figured out what he was doing.

“I think it’s probably best to just leave the Colonel in the car.” Sam suggested to his brother when he circled around and tried opening up the backseat door to let the dog out. Dean had a shift in behavior, as if he was taken back at the mere idea of letting poor Colonel be all on his own. “Well, all the windows are open.”

“You think we like that?” Dean asked him. You furrowed your brow slightly when you caught him using a plural noun from what he was talking about. “You think because the windows are open that that’s some sort of treat, huh? No, the dog’s coming in.”

You and Sam shared a look from the even more strange behavior Dean was exhibiting. The Colonel respected the hunter for understanding the desire to not be stuck in the car while humans did chores. They liked to go wherever their best friends went. Dean petted the canine before letting him out of the car to join the rest of you. You rolled your eyes and went on your way to the shelter. Dean followed behind with the Colonel right by his side like how he argued to have. The man found himself stopping when he caught sight of a view he couldn’t turn away from. You turned your head to see that Dean stopped for some reason with his gaze upon something that caused a glint in his eyes you weren’t all too happy with. You’ve seen it before when he caught sight of a pretty face that wasn’t yours before the both of you got together. You followed his gaze until you saw what he was staring at. You let out a heavy sigh from how weird this was getting.

Dean and the Colonel gawked at a poodle tied up across the street to a bike rack. She was a pretty dog from how well groomed she was and her pink accessories her owner dolled her up with. Both dogs were infatuated with the bitch. 

“Dean!” You hissed at the man, forcing him back into reality. He stopped ogling at the poodle and looked over to you to see that you weren’t the least bit amused. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your brow, not sure if you wanted an explanation for all of this. You chalked it up to the spell that was changing his inhibitions. "You know, I'm not opposed to getting your balls clipped.” 

Dean understood the underlying threat you were hinting at without needing to hear more from you. He followed right behind you with the Colonel right by his side. All of you headed into the shelter in some kind of hope Dean might be able to use this spell for good and figure out who the man was in the cowboy hat. 

[Next Part]

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Penny For Your Nightmares?

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Prompt List #76 “I had the weirdest dream”)

Word Count: Approx. 2k

Possible TW: Nightmares, Near Death Experience

Requests Open! See notes at bottom for details!

~~~

The waves came crashing down around you. Thunder boomed overhead, and lightning struck the water. With every stroke you made the surface seemed to grow farther and farther away. A cry tried to escape your lips, but as soon as you opened your mouth water filled your lungs. 

You shot up in bed, heart pounding. Electricity danced along your fingertips, increasing the level of static energy in the room. It happened again. No matter how many times you told yourself the fear was irrational, nightmares still plagued your dreams. Sam tried his best to get you to go to therapy, but you thought you could deal with it yourself. Trying to shake off the clammy post-nightmare feeling, you lightly stepped out of bed. The cold wood floor sent a shiver down your spine. Grabbing the slippers from your bedside, you slipped them on. That was better.

As silently as possible, you opened your door and creeped down the hall. The absolute last thing you needed was the team waking up. Thankfully the kitchen was right down the hall. The time displayed on the stove clock illuminated the counter. 3:01 A.M. Deep down you knew you needed rest, but the idea of a nice hot cup of coffee appealed to you more. Besides, after what happened, you weren’t sure if you even wanted to go back to sleep. 

Taking out your favorite mug from the cabinet, you added in the perfect amount of coffee and sugar. Tony liked to make fun of you for not using the coffee machine, but there was something so soothing about preparing it yourself. As you filled the kettle up with water, a voice came from the living room. 

“You know, Sam says tea is better to have at night. Caffeine will just keep you up.” 

Your heart skipped a beat as the kettle clattered noisily into the sink. “God, Bucky don’t scare me like that. Almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“Sorry doll,” you rolled your eyes at the pet name but you smiled anyways, “mind if I ask why you’re up in the first place?” 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you said, purposefully dodging the question.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” he countered. You sighed in defeat as you continued filling up the kettle. There was no way you’d be able to leave this kitchen without talking about your feelings. God, Sam was practically determined to turn everyone in the tower into a psychologist. “Alright fine.” you said, turning on the stove, “ I had the weirdest dream, happy now?” 

“Well, I’d be a lot happier if you told me what exactly this weird dream was about.” 

“Okay, so it wasn’t a dream, more of a nightmare. I was caught in the flood again. Except this time I never made it out. It felt like my lungs were filling with water, I couldn’t breathe. Instead of being saved by the lightning strike, I drowned.”  You said it all in one breath, not wanting to dwell on it. “I know it’s stupid, because in reality I didn’t drown, I’m perfectly fine. And yet,” you trailed off, staring at the coffee grounds in your cup. Bucky made his way to the kitchen counter and took a seat on the barstool next to you. “Doll, look at me,” when you didn’t even glance up he grabbed your coffee mug away from you. “Hey,” you exclaimed, “What was that for?” 

“I asked you to look at me, and you didn’t so I had to come up with something else. But now it’s my turn to share why I’m up. You’re not the only one in this tower plagued by nightmares. Every night I relive my days as him. And even though I know that part of me is gone, that I’ll never be the Winter Soldier again, the thought of it still terrifies me. So no, it’s not stupid.” 

“What do you do to cope with it all? I feel like sometimes it’s just too much to deal with.”

“That’s just it, doll. Sometimes things can’t be ‘dealt with’, and you need to talk to someone to help you through it.” You rolled your eyes as you snatched back your cup. Sliding off the barstool, you walked back over to the stove. “Sam put you up to this, didn’t he,” you asked as you poured the water. 

“No,” Bucky sighed, “he didn’t. But he was the one who encouraged me to open up about things. Something you could benefit a lot from.” “Alright, say I do talk things out, then what?” “Then you have a support system who can help you.” “Well, I don’t know-” Bucky cut you off, “How about this, if you aren’t ready to talk to a professional, the next time you have a nightmare you come to me and tell me about it. Alright?”

Turning to face him, you nodded in agreement, “Okay, deal.” As you took a sip of coffee a sudden clap of thunder shook the tower. Lightning lit up the darkened room a second later as rain started to pour down. 

Your blood ran cold as you felt fear grip you. Closing your eyes you kept telling yourself that you were safe, but it wasn’t helping.

Bucky looked over at you, worry laced in his voice, “Doll, what’s wrong?”  

“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing just the storm,” you paused for a moment but then decided to open up a little. As you walked back to the barstool, you took a deep breath. “The flood was caused by a sudden storm like this one. I don’t mind a little rain, but when it’s unexpected I just freeze up.” 

He gently put his hand over your own. “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked.

You shook your head ‘no’, but then reconsidered. “I was going to sit on the couch and try to watch some dumb reality TV,” you replied quietly. “It usually helps me to calm down to laugh at something, and it could block out some of the noise from the storm. Would you want to watch it with me? If not that’s alright, I should be fine.” “No, that sounds great, besides I wasn’t planning on going to bed anytime soon,” he answered with a smile. 

That’s how you two ended up falling asleep on the couch together, HGTV playing in the background. You awoke the next morning to find that Bucky had ended up wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders. Somehow you managed to slip out of his embrace so it wouldn’t result in an embarrassing situation. 

Neither of you talked about it that day, but a few nights later when you were up again from another nightmare you found yourself back on the couch with him, this time watching a sitcom. 

 Before either of you realized it, it became a habit. If you or Bucky woke from a nightmare, or if a sudden storm came on, both of you would go to the living room and put on some cheesy show. Luckily none of the other team members ever found out, or you’d both be teased about it relentlessly. 

Through it all, you found yourself developing feelings for Bucky. Even though you tried to tell yourself those feelings were strictly platonic, you’d be lying if you said you would refuse a relationship with him. 

 It wasn’t until a month later when you realized just how dependent on him you had become. Bucky was out on a mission, but since it was a low-level threat, you were able to stay at the tower. Some of the team had accompanied him, so the compound was a lot quieter than usual. 

Wanda was preparing dinner while you and Sam sat at the counter debating conspiracy theories.

“I’m just saying, don’t you think we would know if Area 51 had aliens? We’re the Avengers, and Thor is literally an alien.” “No, Sam, because I don’t trust the government. Just because I technically work for them doesn’t mean I need to believe everything they say.”

Wanda chimed in, “I think it might be something from another dimension. Didn’t Dr. Strange mention something about a multiverse when he helped us with that mission last year?”

“Exactly,” you agreed, “it doesn’t have to be an ‘alien’ as we would define it.” 

The lights started to flicker, and an uneasy knot formed in your stomach. Sam glanced at the lamp and back at you, “Y/N, are you doing this?” 

“No, it must be a storm,” you responded, your voice shaky. FRIDAY’s voice spoke over the intercom, “There is a severe thunderstorm coming in. Flash flooding may occur.” It was like a vice was crushing your lungs. You didn’t want the others to see you panic over a storm, so you made up an excuse. “Ya know what guys, I’m not feeling hungry. I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.” 

Wanda and Sam exchanged a look as you exited the kitchen but said nothing. 

As you crawled under the covers of your bed, you put in your earbuds and started playing some soothing music. However it didn’t help, and nothing could help you fall asleep. You crept to the closet and pulled out an oversized shirt. Bucky had lent it to you during one of your reality tv marathons and you never ‘found the opportunity’ to give it back. At some point you probably could have, but you wanted to hold onto it for a little while longer. 

Slipping it on over your head, you took a deep breath. It still had traces of his cologne on it, and it made you feel a bit safer. When you crawled back into bed, you fell asleep almost immediately. 

A knock resounded at your bedroom door, and you answered groggily, “Come in.” “Hey doll, I just thought I’d let you know the mission went well. By the way, Sam mentioned that you were acting strange during last night’s storm,” he paused mid-sentence, a slight smirk on his lips, “Is that my shirt?”

You glanced down, vaguely remembering slipping it on the night before. “Possibly,” you answered sheepishly. “I couldn’t sleep and you weren’t here so I just, sorry,” you trailed off.

“It’s fine, it looks cute on you,” he mumbled, brushing a loose strand of hair back from his eyes. “But I came here to ask if you’re alright? Sam told me about you leaving when the storm hit and I was worried.” “I managed to fall asleep, but it took a while. I’m feeling better now, though.” “There’s another storm on the radar, do you want to go play Uno or something until it ends?” You smiled in response, “That sounds great, thank you.” When you put down the +4 card and called out “UNO!”, Bucky laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Wow, I had some good cards that time too. You’re lucky I decided not to play them.” 

“Uh huh, I believe that,” you chuckled.

Later that night during the team movie night you found yourself sitting next to him, head on his shoulder. “I think I love you,” you whispered, thinking he wouldn’t hear. Hoping he wouldn’t hear.

He turned to look at you. Damn that supersoldier serum. “Say that again doll?” 

Taking a deep breath, you felt your chest tighten. Might as well get it over with, you just hoped it wouldn’t ruin things between the two of you. “I love you,” you repeated, still a whisper, but  more sure this time. 

“I love you too. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to mess things up, but I love you too.” “Look, I get you two are having a moment,” Sam said from the other side of the room, “but some of us are trying to watch a movie.” 

~~~

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Hey y’all! So this is from a prompt list I’ve been looking at for ideas. I will be posting the list right after this and will link it here! My ask box and inbox will be open to requests, just give me a number and ship! (No pedophillia or incest ships tho please!) As always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all <3 (And if you’re protesting please stay safe!)

Endless Summer Book 4 : Daughter of Vaanu (Chapter 49)

Description: Tahira continues to fight her way out of her own head. 

Tagging: @endlesshero1122 @mysteli @feartheendlesssummer @whatmcsaid @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @tigerbryn11

Chapter 49 : A Breath of Water

Grayson

I hold Tahira's hand while the nurse slips the IV needle into her vein, even though she probably can't even feel the prick. She doesn't move at all. Not even a twitch.

The first scan they did of her brain revealed that the blood flow was normal. But there was no explanation as to why she hasn't woken up yet. I don't know whether that surprises me or not. If it really was something on the knife, some kind of poison, is that ever going to show up on a brain scan? Either way, they've decided to do another scan. One that's supposed to measure her brain activity. PET scan, I think. They say they can use it to accurately predict which coma patients are likely to wake up.

I squeeze Tahira's hand, kissing her fingers. She looks so perfect, lying in her hospital bed with her dark hair spread over the pillow, smooth and silky thanks to her mother's careful brushing thirty minutes ago. Except for the tubes and hoses, she looks like she's sleeping.

“My sleeping beauty,” I murmur, stroking her hair. “...I wish you would wake up...”

The nurse puts a hand on my shoulder. “Come on. We gotta leave her alone for awhile so the tracer can go through her system. It's better if she doesn't have any stimulation while that's happening.”

“...You think me being here actually stimulates anything?”

“In the best case scenario, it absolutely does. And since that's what we're hoping for, that's the assumption I'm acting on.”

Tahira

I'm not tired as I climb the path up the mountain, and that still startles me every time I realize it. ...Can I even be startled in this space? I reach what appears to be the top of the mountain, and I am standing on a small circle of rock barely large enough for both my feet that pokes up like an island through an ocean of soft, white clouds. The clouds look soft and fluffy, like piles of cotton balls. I want to dive into them and feel their softness against my skin—even though I know from personal experience that I'll probably just get wet. And possibly fall to my death, since I can't fly in this space. But...maybe I can't die in this space, either. And, I'm here now, standing on a tiny space on top of a mountain. What exactly am I supposed to do now?

Before I can really stop myself, I have taken the step off the edge. I plunge through fluffy, cottony sea foam into a warm ocean. I breathe saltwater and it feels as easy as breathing air. I hear a voice call my name. A sexless voice that comes through the waves and sounds like music. I swim toward it, gliding as easily as I fly through the air in the real world. Something that looks like the sun glimmers overhead, making the water around me shine. Ahead, something waits for me in the water. The rippling waves distort its shape, but the color of it is overwhelmingly red.

I think in the back of my mind, I know what's there even before I get close enough to actually see. Sure enough, as I approach, the thing takes on a human shape. Two legs, two arms, and a head—all concealed within a red spacesuit. ...I've never met the Endless before. But I know who she is.

“...Endless. Are you here to show me how I can wake up and help Alodia? Help...a version of you?”

“I am here to help. But I warn you that I cannot help the way you want me to. I am forever bound by the laws that govern the physical flow of time. If I break them, I will do more harm than good.”

“I'm in no position to turn down help.”

“Then follow me.”

Rochelle

“What exactly are you trying to tell me, doctor?”

They've called in a neurologist to assess Tahira. She's had at least two scans to determine why she isn't waking up. So far, though, the man seems to have taken a lot of words to say not very much at all.

“What I am trying to tell you, Ms. Rogers, is that there is no reason to despair. Your daughter's brain is active. Very active. In all the right ways. Coma patients with similar levels of brain activity recover consciousness within a year more than eighty percent of the time.”

I fold my arms. “...Are you saying that my daughter is in a coma?”

The doctor hesitates. “She does exhibit many symptoms consistent with a coma diagnosis. However, there are no obvious organic causes. And...” He leans over Tahira and lifts her eyelid slowly to shine his light pen at her pupil. “Her light reflexes are normal. When I lift her eyelid, she resists. And when I release it, her eye closes completely and quickly.”

“So...what does that mean?”

“My assessment is that it is most likely a psychogenic coma. That is, a temporary period of disassociation, possibly caused by psychological trauma related to the attack.”

“...'Temporary'...”

“Yes. Most of the time patients wake up fairly promptly after general anesthesia is stopped. Often when they fail to wake up, it's due to residual effects from the drugs. Sometimes, it's neurological or metabolic. And sometimes, it's psychological. Tahira is neurologically intact, and her bloodwork is all clear.”

“So...what do we do?”

“We wait. Keep assessing her regularly, wait for a change. Right now, there is little else we can do.”    

Jake

“Lundgren wasn't where we left him. The prevailing theory is that one of his goons found him and got it out, but there's not much of a trail if that's the case. It's...not looking like Alodia and Diego are on the island, either. They've got the coast guard circling, though, in case anything tries to land there. The Vaanti are still lying low for the most part, but Seraxa has a few warriors combing the jungle. I don't know if they can hide themselves like they used to when Vaanu's crystals were still part of the island, but Seraxa seems to think it's an acceptable risk.”

I can't look at Sean as he talks. I stare out the window of my hospital room. The view overlooks the hospital grounds, with the Santo Domingo skyline on the horizon. He seems to be waiting for an answer, but when I don't give him one after a moment or two, he goes on.

“Zahra and Iris have been analyzing the recording from that AI. Iris was able to confirm that the voice print was Alodia's. But most of it was spliced together from recorded voice samples. Like...the time lady that you used to be able to call.”

“'Most of it'...”

“...Huh?”

I keep my eyes on a not-particularly-interesting office building in the distance. “You said 'most of it' was spliced. ...I have a guess where it wasn't.”

Sean hesitates just long enough to confirm that I'm right even before he says, “...Yeah.”

“So where did that part come from?”

“Zahra says she doesn't know that yet. The parts where...Galatea...broke character...those were whole samples, not splices. Iris can figure out that much. But where and when they were recorded? That's gonna take longer to figure out.”

Now I turn to look at him. “What kinda time do you think we have, Sean? She could give birth any day. If Rourke gets his hands on our kid...”

“I know, buddy. I know.”

“...I wanna be there. I wanna be there when my daughter is born.”

He doesn't say anything. What the hell can he say to that? Everyone I know is gonna do everything in their power to get my wife back to me ASAP. Doesn't mean I can rest easy. Not until she's back in my arms.

“...Do you know when you're getting out of here?”

“A day or two. They want to keep me for observation awhile. ...Then I guess I oughta go back to California. ...Or stay here and look after Mike. Don't wanna leave him alone here. ...Don't suppose you two are continuing the honeymoon where you left off.”

“With Alodia and Diego still missing? Of course not. Michelle wants to go back to work early.”

I snort, a rueful, mirthless laugh. “Tell her it's outta the question. She just went through a kidnapping for fuck's sake.”

“You're suggesting I try to tell Michelle what to do?”

“Okay, yeah. I see how that's a bad idea.”

“...She needs to feel useful. And...truthfully right now, it may be that the best way she can help us get Alodia and Diego back is by being at work.”

I feel the frown settle onto my mouth and forehead as I stare at him. “...You don't just say a thing like that without having something to back it up.”

“Tahira was attacked. About the same time as all of us were abducted. She had emergency surgery, but she hasn't woken up yet. ...Before she went under, she managed to get across that the one who attacked her was a Vaanti.”

Caleb

It's probably stupid as hell for me to keep coming back to the compound where Tahira and I were once prisoners. The cops are probably still looking for me, and the compound being the site of a stabbing, they probably aren't far off. Though, truth be told, I'm not sure if they've actually managed to figure out where she was actually stabbed.

Thing is, I find myself wanting answers. I want to know who decided to stick a maybe-poisoned knife in Tahira. I got a nagging feeling whoever it was knows her identity. In the dark, with a flame dancing on my fingertips to light my way, I follow the spotty trail of dried blood from inside the compound to the alley where the initial splatter seems to be and stare at the stain on the filthy concrete.

Avanti...who the hell is Avanti? Sounds like some pop diva wannabe. I'd say a pop diva wasn't capable of leaving this kind of mess in an alley, but I'm old enough to remember Haley Rose.

“You're not going to be able to hide forever.” The taunting purr is unmistakably Gigi. I grit my teeth, but I don't turn to face her right away. “You have to realize that sooner or later, the cops are going to find you.”

Don't ask me why this is the straw that breaks the camel's back. But whatever the reason, I can't take it anymore. I whip around and lunge at Gigi, grabbing her by the throat and shoving her against the wall, a fireball in my free hand poised threateningly over her. The dancing orange light reflects genuine fear in her eyes as she grasps my wrist in both hands. At the moment, I'm too pissed to enjoy it.

“I've had e-fucking-nough of your bullshit, Gi,” I snarl. “You can threaten me with your child army or the cops all you fucking want, because right now, all your underworld power and influence, all your loyal followers all mean jackshit compared to my hand on your throat and this fireball over your head, so start fucking talking, bitch!”

Her eyes flick from my face to the flames licking my hand and back again. I feel her squirm, but I've got her pushed high enough that her toes barely touch the concrete.

“What—should I talk—about?” she finally gasps. I pull back just enough to give her a little more air.

“What do you know about what happened here?!”

She smirks, even as I feel her hands trembling on my wrist. “I know Dragonness can bleed.”

So she does know Tahira's identity. I tighten my grip again, bringing the flames a little closer to her skin. They lick upward enough that I am not worried about causing any damage I don't intend, but I see the sweat blooming on her forehead. I press my face in closer.

“...Who's Avanti?”

Her eyes widen. “...What?”

“Avanti. Is she one of yours? Someone new?”

“...Where...did you...hear that?”

“Tahira said it was Avanti who stabbed her! Who is that?!”

“...So. …The plot...thickens...”

I shake her, hard enough that she lets out a strangled yelp. “I told you to talk, bitch!”

“Avanti isn't a name!” she shrieks breathlessly, struggling against my grip. “It's...not...coincidence!”

“What's not?!”

“Any of it! Same day Dragonness is attacked, Alodia Chandler is abducted, and Silas Prescott escapes!”

“Yeah, that doesn't seem like coincidence. So what do you know about it?”

“Barely more than you, I would wager,” she croaks against another increase in pressure from my hand. “...But I know that Avanti is not a name. It's a thing. A creature. From La Huerta.”

“...What kind of creature?”

I feel a hand come down on my shoulder, gently but firmly. I spare a glance, and the hand on my shoulder shines golden brown in the light from my flame.

“That's enough, Caleb,” Talos murmurs. “Let her go.”

“Fuck that! Not until she tells me what she knows!”

“There's nothing she could tell you right now that I couldn't also tell you.”

I sneer, tightening my grip. “What about her plot to steal the Prism Crystal?”

“It clearly hasn't been set in motion yet, since the Prism Crystal is secure. And trying to get the plan out of her is likely going to prove an exercise in futility. There are more important things to worry about at the moment.”

I want to argue, how the fuck is the Prism Crystal not important? ...But it's not. Not when compared to finding Tahira's attacker. I slowly release Gigi and let the flame on my hand go out. Gigi staggers back from me, coughing and rubbing her throat. I can see I've left marks. She's not gonna forgive me for that. But right at this moment, she's looking at me with genuine fear and I can finally feel a twinge of satisfaction for it. Of course, she does her best to disguise it as quick as she can.

“Looks like I've got my own knight in shining armor,” she sneers, her voice hoarse. “Too bad he appears to be running with a traitor.”

“You should be the one running, Gi,” I snarl. “Before I change my mind about letting you go.” As I summon flames to my palms for emphasis, her eyes widen. She closes her mouth and slinks into the shadows without another word. I let the flames die and lower my hands, turning to glare at Talos. He sighs.

“Don't give me that look. Interrogating her would have cost us time we don't have.”

“You can't know that she isn't involved!” I growl.

“Of course she's involved. Even if it's indirectly. She was on La Huerta at the same time as Alodia. But look me in the eye and tell me that you think she would give up any information in a timely manner?”

“I could have burned it out of her,” I mutter.

“Torture is unreliable,” he replies simply. “...The Prism Crystal is secure. You can take my word on that.”

“Why should I?” I'm just being stubborn at this point. I don't know why the hell Talos would lie about that.

“...Because if it's lost, I lose my source of liquid prism. And liquid prism is what's going to save me if you ever decide to stick a flaming sword through my gut again.”

“...Fine. Fair point. ...So what now, huh? How do we find this Avanti thing?”

“First of all, it's not Avanti. It's a...Vaanti. Two words. ...Let's go somewhere private, Caleb. I think it's time to explain.”

Jake

Rebecca and my folks show up in the small hours of the morning. They have Varyyn with them, his hologram disguise in place. They try to sneak into my hospital room to avoid disturbing me, but it's not like I can sleep anyway. Varyyn hangs back while my parents tearfully embrace me, but I watch him through the space between their heads, and I can see his tepid expression.

“Hey, Varyyn,” I murmur after my parents and sister have given me a moment to breathe. “...How are you holding up?”

Varyyn twitches slightly, and I see a guilty flush creep into his cheeks. “...I am glad to see you are safe, Jake...” He trails off, looking away.

“...But I ain't your spouse, am I.” I offer him a sympathetic smile. “...I ain't mine, either.”

His mouth twists miserably, his eyes shimmering. “...They are together,” he whispers. “They must be together.”

“God, I fucking hope so...” I look desperately at my sister. “Tell me the cops got something, Bex. Anything...”

“There is something. ...One of Alodia's students came forward. Said she had been waiting to be picked up after class and Alodia was waiting with her to go to lunch with a friend. ...She gave a description of the woman Alodia left with. Said Alodia called her 'Jeanine,' and that she didn't seem happy to see her.”

I try not to show disappointment. Three people in this room were already aware of this information, but as far as my folks know, this should be a new development. I hope I can blame my lukewarm reaction on the concussion. The odds are probably better if I can manage to say something to convince them I didn't know the kidnapper's identity already.

“...The only Jeanine I can think of that we know is someone I used to serve with. She was there on La Huerta, and she was definitely hostile to Alodia, but...” What did we all agree happened to her? What did Mike and I say at Lundgren's trial all those years ago. “...We thought she was dead.”

“Varyyn told them that the name was familiar,” Rebecca says, giving me a meaningful look behind our parents' backs. “That you had mentioned her as someone from your Navy days you had fallen out with. But since he wasn't there on La Huerta, he doesn't know the whole story.”

Oh, is that the story we're going with? Seems fucking weird to think of Varyyn being from anywhere but La Huerta, but I guess now that he has a fake ID and he can mingle in the real world, he's got to have another backstory.  

“...There is one other thing,” Rebecca continues. “Whoever took Diego and Alodia, they were prepared. For the most part, they managed to stay off the security cameras both at the college and the dance school. ...But not entirely.”

That does make me snap to attention. Well, as much as I can in a hospital bed. “So there's footage?”

“There's footage of what the police believe is the ambulance they drove. Enough frames between the two sets of security footage to get a license plate. The vehicle hasn't been found yet, but...”

“...But it's something.”

It's enough to keep hope alive, even if it feels like fear is suffocating it. Fear can't really smother hope, though. As long as I am afraid, I still have hope. It's when fear starts to turn to despair that I'll have really lost hope. When I start grieving Alodia and Diego instead of being afraid that I will have to grieve them in the future.

“...When you're discharged,” my mother speaks up, covering my hand with hers, “would you like us to take you back to California? Or would you rather come stay with us until there's more information?”

I shake my head. “...The moment there's a real credible lead, I'll be wherever my wife most needs me to be. ...But for now, I can't leave Mike. Not until I know he's okay.”

“It's up to you, of course. We can get a hotel room for awhile. But they did tell us that his family has been informed.”

I hum noncommittally. Of course I trust Mike's family to look after him when they get here. But I still don't want to leave without word of Alodia. ...How can I think about going anywhere until I know where she is? Without her, I'm adrift. I'm spinning my wheels in a blizzard, and I can't even see the road ahead, even if I could get myself unstuck.

Tahira

“So...are you actually the Endless? Or are you just a manifestation of...some aspect of me that's taken on the form of the Endless?”

The red-clad old woman does not look back at me as we slog together through what has become a mucky swamp, thick with vines, water plants, and algae.

“A little bit of both. Vaanu is communicating with you mentally. I am an alternate version of Alodia, who is essentially a manifestation of some aspect of Vaanu. Unlike the Alodia you know, however, I never lived as a human in this world. I am the Alodia who was born of Vaanu's energy and my Catalysts' needs. But I never gave myself back to Vaanu, so I never merged the timelines, and thus I was never reborn on earth as the child of human parents. I am the Alodia who never lived in California. Who never attended Hartfeld. ...I am the Alodia who rejected Vaanu, and yet I am now the Alodia who is joined with him.”

“...That was...a long-winded answer. But surprisingly straightforward. That's not to say that I totally understand, but I was expecting you to be more...cryptic.”

“Unfortunately, this straightforwardness cannot last. ...I do not know where Alodia is, and neither does Vaanu. All we have is scattered knowledge to impart to you that may or may not help you find her. In fact, my main purpose here is to help you purge the poison from your body.”

“What kind of poison is it?”

“An ancient kind. Something toxic to those from the Crystal Dimension.” She pauses, turning toward me. “Have you ever been baptized, Tahira?”

“Baptized? No. My mom was never religious, and I never got into it either. ...I did see a friend of mine get baptized once...”

We were teenagers, I remember, and she invited most of the girls in our class, and I went mostly because it meant something to someone I considered a friend. Her church had a baptismal pool, and she and the other baptismal candidates waded in one by one to speak their vows, dressed in loose white robes. Then their pastor covered their face with a towel, took them in his arms, and rocked them back into the water while speaking the ritual words before drawing them up again. The ceremony meant nothing to me, but it was interesting to watch. Before I can ask the Endless why she wanted to know, I get my answer when she takes me in her arms and gets my legs out from under me to immerse me in the water around us. But I don't have the benefit of a cloth over my face, and the Endless doesn't seem to be drawing me up again. I try to find my footing, to get my head above the water, but she isn't letting me. Or something else isn't letting me. Either way, I start to panic. But then I remember my experience earlier, and I slowly still. Cautiously, I take a breath. Water flows smoothly into my lungs, and out again, easy as air.

“Good,” the Endless says soothingly. “Just breathe. Relax. Listen. Watch.”

I try to do as I'm told. In one of my middle school art classes, we made an optical illusion toy out of a circle of cardboard and two pieces of string. On one side of the cardboard was a picture of a bird, and on the other was a birdcage. The strings attached to opposite edges of the cardboard circle, and when you wound up the string and spun the toy, the images flipped so quickly that the bird seemed to appear inside the cage. Watching the images flashing in front of me on the surface of the water feels like watching that little bird hop into the cage. Or maybe like thumbing clumsily through a flip book where some of the pages are out of order.

I see the Endless with her helmet down, flames dancing above the skeletal claw that is her bionic right hand. I see Caleb superimposed over her, and they both close their right fists to extinguish the flames. I see Minuet holding out her hand to extend a slow-motion field over an unseen opponent. Then she morphs into Alodia, wearing a haunted expression as she holds out her hand and the wind that was stirring her yellow hair stills. I see a massive tree that I think must be Elyys'tel pulsing with light. And then the light fades and the tree withers as the sky turns gray, but lights are flashing in wild neon colors behind it. The images start coming faster. I can't keep track of them. But some do get through. Vaanti. Blue-skinned males and verdant females, dressed in masks and leafy garments, with tattoos decorating their powerful, glistening bodies. Then they're gone. Replaced by a steampunk-looking tribe who hunker around a fire in a post-apocalyptic desert, their pointed teeth tearing into the raw flesh of some unfortunate animal, blood sluicing down their chins.

...Anachronists...those are Anachronists! I mean, Alodia never told me they had fangs and ate raw animals, but...the steampunk outfits give them away. I open my mouth to say as much to the Endless. But now there's a problem.

...Suddenly, I can't breathe.

The Adrenaline of Panic

Criminal Minds : Fic

Spencer x Reader

Word Count: 2220

Warnings: I used the plot line from season 6 episode 10 - reader has a similar situation to Ashley Seaver... being new and all 😁 {mild struggle, shots fired, unsub down, agent choked... the whole nine yards} 

Inspiration and dialogue came from this episode: 6x10 What Happens At Home

Request: This is just from my own head 😊

A/N: In a moment of pure terror, the team realizes that you’re visiting the killer in his home - Reid, unable to contain the panic, races against the clock to save you from a gruesome end

“Okay, let’s hope the occupancy listings show pets.” Emily led the way into the back room, carrying a stack of files, “This is the pile of suspects we need to weed the 18 from.”

(Y/N) followed closely behind, meeting at the table, “What are these?” She gestured to the smaller stack that Spencer was carrying in.

“Victim information, the families of the 3 women who were killed,” he responded, moving to stand beside her, his eyes trained on her face.

“Families,” (Y/N) muttered.

Emily sighed, opening a case file, “Yeah, families are the hardest part about this job.”

Though it had only been a few weeks since her initial field training, (Y/N) was finding it hard not to feel attached to the victims. She was involuntarily connecting herself to them on an empathetic and personal level. That could be dangerous for someone on a case, she knew.

Spencer knew it too, watching her movements closely as she gazed at the victim boards behind them. He had known (Y/N) for a few years, running into her at a lecture they were commonly interested in. He was one of the first people to recommend her for the BAU trainings – obviously secretly wishing he could work alongside her and get to know her more.

Throughout her training process, Reid became accustomed to her kind nature and positive thinking. He had made a mental note then to introduce her to Garcia.

But he had also decided then that he was going to have to look out for her when it came to being too involved in cases. It can damage an agent’s whole career by getting too involved, becoming irrational during a case.

“Drew Jacobs. We talked to him this afternoon. His wife, Aubrey, was victim number 3.”

(Y/N) listened to Prentiss, gazing at the file before her. Beautiful pictures of a blonde woman were paperclipped within, similar snapshots of her daughter – a daughter that held much of her likeness.

It made her insides clench, noticing the poor girl, “She’s never going to have a mother around.”

Spencer licked his lips, fumbling his fingers through other case files as he tried to observe her, “No. It’s unfortunate.”

(Y/N) flickered her eyes to him, seeing the immediate concern behind his gaze. “And that’s her laptop?”

“Yes, we did a data sweep over it and we’ll have to take it back to the house,” Emily responded, also noticing the slight uneasiness in (Y/N)’s demeanor.

But they continued the work on the files, Prentiss being taken away by the local sheriff for records of pet ownership amongst the possible unsubs. It left Spencer and (Y/N) quietly shuffling through other paperwork, muttering theories as they went.

Reid couldn’t help but stare, his eyes seeming to x-ray her – him trying to figure out what he could do to comfort her. She simply droned on, moving her gaze to the laptop multiple times before snapping up at Spencer’s voice.

“You okay?”

She met his light eyes, his brows knitted into concern at her blank expression, “Yeah, it’s just… you know – the families. They’ve lost so much… in such a horrendous way. It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

He found the urge to console her but had no idea how to shift past the awkward tension, “You know there’s an average of 5.3 murders per capita per day in America? That’s about 53 murders per 100 thousand people per day, meaning that there’s a lot of families being affected each day. And… and because of such a statistical average we shouldn’t feel obligated or at fault for each death because there’s no possible way we could prevent such a vast number over a land mass such as America. That’s like saying we could imprison every serial killer in the 3.8 million square miles of the United States…” he attempted at a smile, quickly realizing that (Y/N)’s frown was getting deeper and deeper.

“Which is incomprehensible with that sizeable area and such a small team, not to mention that it’s estimated that there are around 2,000 serial killers at large in the US at this given moment. Essentially, we shouldn’t blame ourselves for…”

“I get it, Reid. There are hundreds of deaths happening each week that we have no control over,” she clenched her jaw, staring at the laptop, “And the only comfort we have for the families are statistics, false hope, and bad news.”

Spencer found his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Of course he resorted to rambling in a split second decision to do something nerve wracking. But the way she stood there without an ounce of feeling in her face really hit him hard. He had to do something.

“Do you want a coffee?”

She sighed, swallowing hard, “Are you trying to get me addicted?”

He opened his mouth, confused again, “Why would I want…?”

“Yes, I’ll take a coffee,” she hinted at a smile, “Gesh, Spence… you’d think my humor would rub off on you at some point.”

There was a pause as he caught onto the sarcasm, “I’ll be right back.”

And he skid out of the room quickly, extremely proud of himself that he was able to get (Y/N) to almost smile.

Little did he know that (Y/N) was now eyeing the laptop with a hard expression. She knew it was against protocol to leave without informing Hotch – especially with her being so new to the game. But if there’s one thing she’s learned from the last five minutes, it’s that no family should be treated as a statistic.

And they deserved to have their possessions returned to them in person by an agent familiar with the case.

~~~

Rossi moved the phone to speaker as other BAU members gathered around the table, “Garcia, we need you to run a few more names. Phillip Long.”

Within seconds the tech guru spit back an answer with precision, “Long has no suspicions on his record, no arrests, and no technology either.”

Reid stood among the men – a coffee clutched in his hand; another full cup was left on a desk behind him. He wasn’t able to find (Y/N) after his initial visit to the breakroom for the drinks. And it wasn’t sitting well with him that she just disappeared.

You could visibly see the mental battle bombarding his psyche as he attempted to listen to the others. He knew she was showing signs of being too involved, he knew she was struggling not to do something more for the case.

Should he say something to Hotch and possibly get her career flagged by a broken rule?

“Drew Jacobs,” Rossi continued.

Reid found his mind being triggered to a memory by the said name. The name of one of the victim’s husbands.

“Drew Jacobs has a couple of arrests for assault when he was younger,” Garcia typed away from the speaker phone, “I’ll give you more details on that in a sec. Is this the husband of the woman whose computer I went through?”

Reid became very still, halting his fidgeting. The laptop.

“Yeah,” Morgan responded, noting the change of demeanor from Spencer.

“She was really unhappy with him,” Garcia continued. “She said he was distant, he left her alone at night. He would wander outside – in fact, he was at the top of the suspect pool until his wife was killed.”

Rossi shared looks with the rest of the men, speculating before Reid dropped his cup of coffee and ran for the door. His satchel hit the frame hastily as he dove for keys to any sort of government vehicle outside, running for the black SUVs parked on the street.

He knew he should’ve said something – he knew he should’ve called her as soon as he realized she was gone – he knew he shouldn’t have left her alone.

And now she was going to pay for his ignorance.

Practically slamming into a car, Reid pulled out his phone to dial, already knowing his destination from the case files he memorized. He was finding adrenaline coursing through him like nothing he had ever experienced. His eyes were dilated, breathing abnormal, and palms unusually sweaty. He was panicking.

“Agent (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/N)!” Reid yelled, quickly catching his fault in volume and reducing to an acceptable rate, “Where are you?”

There was a hint of something off in her tone, “Without a doubt, sir.”

His heart skipped a beat, a bubbling entering his stomach, “Are you at Drew Jacobs?”

There was a breath, “Yes, sir.”  

Reid turned a corner, finding a third-party line attempting to patch through. He quickly tapped the accept button, finding Hotch on the other end.

It was strange for Spencer – to experience a moment where his brain wasn’t working.

“She… she’s at the unsubs house,” he tried to explain, blinking hard to focus on the road – to get to (Y/N). “She’s not alone.”

“Can you get out of there?” Hotch asked calmly, only concern in his voice. “(Y/N).”

The amount of time it took her to answer caused Reid’s stomach to flip into knots, his fingers itching to move as she responded, “I’m sorry, sir. I, uh… I can’t do that.” And she hung up.

“(Y/N)?” Reid panicked more, hitting his hand against the steering wheel, just minutes away from the designated house. “(Y/N)!”

Hotch spoke quickly over the phone, “Jacobs has her. She has no gun – we need to go.”

“Son of a bitch,” Morgan muttered, leaning into the phone, “Stay calm, Reid. We’ll be there soon.”

In return, Spencer threw his phone into the next seat, swerving to get to the driveway – wasting no more time. The team was on their way and would only be minutes behind him, though that was only a mere thought in the back of his mind. He was too concerned about getting into the actual house.

He extracted his gun, checking for any signs of movement in the windows. His breath was coming out in rapid, short bursts.

He was having flashes strike his mind… moments that he had shared with (Y/N) in the past. Lectures – coffee shops – libraries – hallows eve festivals – science projects – poetry slams – dinners with the team – driving her home – the urge to hold her hand – her beautiful smile.

He was not about to let her die like this.

Within a burst of high energy, Reid was already through the door, vaguely hearing a rustling coming from upstairs. Attempting to keep some sort of composure, he raised his gun, aiming it at the staircase.

The sound of struggling grew more violent, an awful choking noise becoming evident to his ears. Another surge of adrenaline forced him up the stairs quickly, almost fumbling near the top. The adjacent bedroom had its door open wide, figures flailing on the ground. A little girl was crying.

Jacobs had (Y/N) pinned to the floor, his hands hungrily squeezing her throat. Her legs were trying to buck him off, slowly losing vigor as she suffocated.

Reid found his voice hoarse, “Drew Jacobs, release the agent and back away. You have three seconds.”

(Y/N) moved her eyes to him; they were growing red and full of unshed tears. She gaped her mouth, moving her lips with silent pleas. And her fingers were losing the energy needed to claw at her attacker’s hands.

“Mr. Jacobs!” Reid yelled again, unable to see an alternative to the heat in the man’s eyes. And in a second he fired his weapon, two shots directly in the unsubs back.

It took only a second longer for Jacobs to release her, slumping to the side in a quick death.

Reid ran for her, putting his gun swiftly away in its holster to free his hands. (Y/N) gave a wracking cough, trying to fill her lungs with air once more. Her eyes were watering, a harsh mark quickly developing around her neck and chest.

With a closer look, Reid could see what a beforehand struggle inflicted on her: a few good gashes from a pocketknife the unsub had on him.

“(Y/N), thank God,” he sloppily brushed away pieces of her hair to free her face. He placed a hand on her shoulder, another behind her head, “You’ll be okay… you’ll be okay.”

She coughed more, sucking in painful breaths, “I… I’m sorry.”

He swallowed hard, finding his adrenaline invoking more spur of the moment actions – he pulled her into his chest, hugging her tightly.

“Don’t… we’ll talk about that later. We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”

She leaned into him, exhausted from the struggle, and he was finding it difficult to want to move from the spot. She was so fragile in that moment, real tears mixing in from the ones forced out of her.

“I just… I just wanted o-one family to feel seen. To not be considered a st-statistic.”

Reid bit the inside of his cheek, “Your heart is just too big for your own good.” He couldn’t help but smile, holding her there, “The team will be here any second and we can get you the help you need.”

“Please don’t leave me, Spence.” She struggled with breath, her throat bruising, “I don’t want you to go.”

And he wrapped his arms around her tighter, shock slowly numbing away, “Anything you need, (Y/N). You can always count on me to be there.”

~~~

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CSUaPr prt 60 ...

Cuba felt almost cruel as Keith held his husband’s hand. The week started slowly and Lord knows he nearly killed Luis over the dinner table, but Lance had bounced back so strong from those tentative first few days, by the fourth day he he’d finally gotten his wish to breast feed their boys, crying as he did which did all sorts of things for his heart as Keith panicked at the situation, only to find they were tears of happiness because he could actually do it. Now they were on Erathus, and Lance was recovering from his first surgery, with his second the following day. Taking the Talula, Daehra, Marco, and Lucteal were all staying at The Guilded Cage... the same place Keith was supposed to be right now. Visiting hours had long since passed, but no one had the heart to kick him out, though maybe they didn’t care he was there as it meant someone was watching Lance and his vitals carefully. The injection they’d given his husband to numb below the waist had triggered a seizure. When he’d come too, the situation had been explained to him carefully, to both of them really, by doctor that’d been Lance’s obstetrician. Technically she’d referred his case on to a close colleague, assisting where she could on providing pertinent information of Lance’s biology and the procedures they’d carried out on him before. The slow release capsule that’d been implanted should have lasted longer than it had, Lance’s quintessence burning through the capsule at an accelerated rate during the birth. Those were... mostly... her words, but given she hadn’t actually been there she could only work on theory. Lance had been pretty out of it, out of it enough to sob and beg Keith not to let them put something in his head. Now his husband was sitting there with a neat dressing over the small site where they’d attached some kind of electrical sensor that would essentially map the damage in Lance’s brain in a way ordinary tests couldn’t. Lance would be sleeping for the next 12 hours, meaning Keith could have left if he’d wanted and returned before Lance even knew he’d gone... but there was absolutely no way he was leaving his husband. He didn’t care if the staff remembered Lance from his previous visits. He didn’t care if Lance told him he should rest during the procedure. They’d quiznakking drilled into his husband’s goddamn head. He wasn’t moving. He hadn’t received Lance’s permission for the procedure. He’d acted on his own, knowing they couldn’t do anything about the tissue that may or may not have been removed, and that most probably they couldn’t do anything about the scarring without the chance of causing death, or at least permanent brain damage. His penance was to sit and watch. To stay by his husband side until he woke. Their twins were in the care of Marco... Keith almost snorting as he remembered the way Lance had completely overreacted to the news of Daehra and Marco dating. Yeah. His husband was a complete dork, and he’d never grow tired of it. It’d come about the second day of their trip after Jorge and Lance had spoken. Naturally Keith and Miriam had kept their distance... In other words, Keith had stayed in the kitchen for all of 5 minutes, which he was exceptional proud of and was no easy feat, before going to rush off to find Lance. Catching his arm before he could go marching into the living room, Miriam had urged him not to interrupt. The wait had been even worse as they stood by the stairs. When Jorge had seen the pair of them spying towards the living room he’d laughed softly. The man’s large and weathered hand ruffling his hand as he wrapped an arm around Miriam’s shoulders. The contents of the conversation was a secret, though Jorge did say he’d been promised a trip out to the shack and that Lance could really use some time with their sons. With Miriam’s help, both boys were brought to where Lance was curled up in the corner of the sofa, Keith, once again parent of the year, all but shoving Hunter into Lance’s hold. Maybe wasn’t exactly shoving, but there was a slightly unnecessary amount of fake bossiness as he “made” Lance take Hunter. Lance’s best interests were in mind, his husband needed cuddle time and if offered he’d probably over think everything, and with his hearing far better than the average human’s, Keith may have heard some of Lance’s conversation with his father. Taking the morning slow, Lance was too busy holding his son to fret. The Cuban seemed to have all but forgotten that Luis and Rachel was scheduled to visit. When they had arrived, Rachel had been weirdly... nice? to the point she seemed far too overjoyed to meet her nephews. Luis had had a smile on his face, congratulating them both... yet... He hadn’t brought his own three kids to meet the twins. He’d come without Lisa, then explained it away as they’d be coming later. That was Luis’s first mistake. His second had been when they’d moved into the kitchen for lunch. Miriam had cooked her heart out, leaving barely any space between the table full of delicious dishes. Fussing over Hunter, Lance ignored the food in front of him, Keith knew this would happen. It was why he’d taken their son during breakfast with the hopes Lance would eat. Not wanting to make a fuss or turn things into a big deal, Keith had taken Lance’s plate and begun serving his husband, skipping everything that clearly contained tomatoes and potatoes as he didn’t know how allergies that formed during pregnancy worked. Mami had a lot of mouths to feed, and though she’d made an attempt, Keith ended up placing a small pile of salad on his husband plate with a little bit off some meat thing. In an act of solidarity, he’d filled his plate similarly, ignoring how good everything looked. This would have been fine. Everything was prepared and Lance would have been able to handle stabbing things with his fork. But Luis... Luis had to fuck it right up. Either being a dick, or trying too hard, Luis pushed his chair back and took Lance’s plate in his hand. Loading it up with a little bit of everything, the cherry on the top was Luis laughing at them both and stating “Lance looked far too thin”. Placing the plate back down, Lance bit his bottom lip, the table falling awkwardly quiet as his husband’s scent began to turn. Leaning in, Keith resisted the urge to nuzzle Lance’s cheek “Babe, we can just swap plates” “I can’t eat this...” “I know. It’s alright” Swapping plates drew Mami’s attention, even as Keith picked up his cutlery with the hopes of relaxing Lance’s nerves by eating “Is everything alright?” Luis answered for them, Keith’s cheeks burning as he did “Keith’s not letting Lance eat. No wonder he looks so sickly. He needs the calories” Miriam cast a glance to Jorge who gave a nod, before she continued talking “Keith, Mijo. Is everything alright?” “Yeah, Mami. It’s all sorted” “No, it’s not alright. I filled that plate for Lance’s sake” Lance flinched as if he’d been slapped, before hiding his face against Hunter’s beanie “Lance is still recovering” Lance was right there. Keith loathed these kind of conversations, but Luis was being everything Lance feared he would be. Keith wasn’t sure why, but the man now seemed to also dislike him. It wasn’t his fault Lance had allergies, nor was it Lance’s, yet he didn’t feel he had to explain their actions. Having been on a liquid diet more of the food would probably be too rich to sit comfortably in his husband’s stomach. Forcing Lance to eat more than he could handle would only eventuate with Lance feeling guilty as he threw up. “Whoa. No need to snap at me. I’m concerned about how ill my baby brother looks” Keith wasn’t aware that he had snapped. He’d thought he’d explained it away in his normal tone “That’s because he’s recovering” “Then he needs to eat and build his strength. He has so many options, but you’re controlling his diet. Lance would never choose a salad first without filling his plate with sides” Jorge cleared his throat, Luis looking to his father “You’re not agreeing with this are you? He’s treating Lance like a pet! He can make his own decisions” “Luis. That’s enough” The three words clearly got under Luis skin. Keith was gripping his knife so hard that he’d begun to bend the handle. Though it was socially unacceptable, the Half-Galra once again felt the urge to smack Luis. He had no right to upset Lance like this. Coming home had been a lot as it was. Mami was supposed to talk to Luis and Rachel about Lance “First he gets our Lance pregnant. My little brother, pregnant! Now Lance is sitting here looking as if he hasn’t had a good meal in the last 6 months, with him controlling what he eats. I thought Keith was good for him, but now I’m not so sure. How are you not worried?!” “I can’t eat this!” Pushed over, Lance snapped. Keith could take the insults pushed in his face. He was doing everything he could to be a good husband to his partner. He has the love of Miriam and Jorge, but more importantly he had Lance’s trust. Pushing his chair back, Lance turned to Miriam for backup “What do you mean you can’t eat this? You’ve been eating this all your life. There was no need to swap plates. We are not going through this again. You’re not skipping meals while you’re living under this roof!” “I wasn’t skipping! I’m allergic! Don’t you talk to Keith like this. I don’t care if you hate me and consider me a freak! But don’t hate Keith, or our sons! I hate it when you do this, you’re not papi! Keith was trying to make sure I wouldn’t get sick. Even if he was controlling what I ate, I wouldn’t mind because he’s my husband and my faith is in him! Shhhh.... shhh, daddy’s sorry. Daddy’s sorry for yelling” Hunter wailed, Lance hushing him as Miriam climbed from her seat “What do you mean you’re allergic? Why did no one tell me he has allergies now?” Probably because Luis wasn’t Jorge. He might be Lance’s older brother, but he was definitely not his father. Coming over, Miriam placed her hand on Lance’s left shoulder “This is not how we behave at the dinner table. Keith, dear. Thank you, with so many mouths, I fear it slipped my mind entirely. Lance, Mijo, you eat what you can. Don’t go making yourself sick because you feel you have to. Luis, we do not treat our guests like this. We do not treat our family like this. Now, I want a word with you. And Rachel, you stop laughing at brother. Both of you can do the dishes” Rachel spluttered, Marco opened his mouth only to be cut down by Mami’s narrowing eyes. Closing his mouth, his brother-in-law wasn’t stupid enough to earn himself dish duty like his other two siblings. Luis was red face when returned, they’d all heard him and Mami fighting over Lance. Luis seemed as if he was only seeing Lance as he had been. He yelled because he cared too much. He yelled because he didn’t understand Lance any longer. Their family Christmas had been nearly a year ago now, and so very much had changed. As Luis sulked over your his seat, Keith still felt the urge to punch him. Uncharacteristically, Rachel had held her tongue over Luis being taken off to be lectured, only complaining to Marco that it wasn’t fair she was the one on dish duty and he wasn’t. Daehra was quick to then volunteer Marco for dish duty, Lucteal huffing out a laugh. To Keith it felt as if they’d traded places, he was no longer on the outer circle of Lance’s family, and Lucteal was. It didn’t sit right with him, yet he didn’t know how to make Lucteal feel more included when all his brain was taken up worrying over his husband. Lucteal was there because of Lance. He hadn’t needed to accompany Daehra and Marco, his energy would have been better spent running the outpost, or at least visiting Yule if he needed a break from working. It was problem he was going to need to fix, but when it came to problems like this Lance was the expert. Having been pulled back into line, Luis finally called to allow Lisa and the children to visit Lance and their twins. Nadia asked a billion questions over it all, barely stopping for breath between them. Lance seemed to perk back up around his nieces and nephew, not growing the least bit anxious as he answered all Nadia’s questions as if it was a perfectly normal thing to do. Lance had conceived with the help of a magical princess and Nadia accepted it, even though he wasn’t a girl which was promptly overlooked in her excitement when she was allowed to hold Hunter. Having spent most of the morning holding him, Lance was content to fuss over Laith. How his husband ever doubted his maternal skills, Keith wasn’t sure he’d ever know. Lance made it all seem so easy, despite battling his busy mind. With it all being so foreign to him, it’d slipped his mind that Lance would have done this a hundred and one time’s helping out his family. Luis never apologised for his outburst, not in any real meaningful way, leaving Keith still feeling bitter about it when they left, and somewhat bitter that Lucteal remained on the edge of everything. The one time Lance had sleepwalked, Keith had been there to stop him, meaning despite asking for his help, he felt as if he’d set Lucteal up with a dummy job. Jorge had roped Lucteal into helping around the farm in the morning but as far as Keith could tell the man hadn’t had much alone time with his friend. This second side to him had left him useless when Lance wasn’t in the room. His anger would flare back up into small fits of jealousy for absolutely no good reason. Heck, if Lance spent longer than 10 minutes in the bathroom he practically wanted to break the door down. But as Lance had improved the fits lessoned, they just needed Lance’s actual fits to get the message. * Falling asleep by his husband’s side, Keith woke to a blanket being laid over his shoulders. Rubbing his tired eyes, Lucteal was staring down at him “Your friend’s arrived” Scrunching his brow, Keith was confused. He was supposed to be going to Daibazaal, not Daibazaal coming to him. He hadn’t told his husband that Krolia had contacted him, asking if he wanted to speak to Krystaal before he was reassigned. There was no way he could bring that conversation up when their holiday was all about Lance recovering “Hey, bud. Didn’t mean to wake you” Hunk? Why was Hunk here? That made no sense. As Keith sat up his back protested straighten after however long he’d been in his hunched position. Squeezing Lance’s hand, Lance was blissfully still sleeping “What are you doing here?” Tiredness left a slight edge to his question. Having not turned to Hunk, Hunk came to him, skirting around Lucteal to give him some kind of weird and brief hug “Shiro couldn’t come...” “He wasn’t going to...?” Trust Shiro to be planning things without telling him “This is hard to watch. Your friend came to the club without notice. I think Th’al scared him” Keith nodded. Th’al was good for that. Rubbing his thumb over the back of Lance’s hand, a yawn crept up on him, causing him to yawn his reply “Th-Thanks for bringing him. I didn’t know you were coming... that either of you would be” Doing that thing he liked to do when anxious, Hunk moved back, pushing the tips of both his pointers together. Keith was far too tired for a serious conversation, yet it seemed there was more to Hunk’s visit than simply being there on Shiro’s orders “Lucteal, can you sit by him? I need to get something to drink” Lucteal had the grace to buy his lie, though seeming annoyed as his sentences were clipped and too the point “You don’t need to ask. He’s my friend too. I know this hospital. Go talk with Hunk” Hunk was a worrying mess. Keith was forced down to the hospital cafeteria to get that drink that Keith didn’t really need. Feeling a little stupid for having walked through the hospital with a blanket over his shoulders, he wondered if he was getting all the strange looks he was because of who he was, or if they thought him a patient. Shooed over to sit a small two seater table, Hunk brought over two cups of what was supposed to be coffee as Keith got settled. Sitting across from him, an awkwardness hung in the air. Taking a sip of the “coffee” Keith couldn’t help the face he pulled. It tasted like he’d tried to boil coffee in a pot and boiled it down death “Is Lance alright?” Humming, the question took a few ticks to hit his brain. Keith nodding as it finally did. The hum wouldn’t have assured Hunk. Hunk was sunshine and nerves “It looked pretty bad, didn’t it?” Smooth. That wasn’t reassuring Hunk “His head... what was that?” “He’s being monitored for seizures. He was supposed to go into surgery today, but the increase of pressure led to a seizure” “And the boys? They’re not here with you?” “I had no choice. Marco’s watching over them. They’re both doing great... I didn’t want them to be here” Not that the club was much better, but the club had security for both their boys and their friends “Ah, man. I didn’t see them while I was there... Pidge sent photos, Shiro’s been showing everyone who’d stand still videos of his godsons. But it’s not like, the same...” Taking another sip of his coffee, Keith didn’t know why he’d gone back to it. The second sip was worse than the first “Hunk, you’re not here for Lance’s sake are you?” Moving his left hand up, Hunk scratched the back of his head “I... uh... not just for him. I mean, Shiro told me he had an appointment... I sent Lance a message and he got back to me yesterday. He didn’t mention he had an appointment today...” With how nervous and halty his friend was, Keith was getting the feeling it wasn’t just jitters but something deeper. Lance had never mentioned messaging Hunk, nor could Keith remember him having time to... Then again, Lance could be sneaky as quiznak when he wanted to “Hunk, whatever it is, you can tell me” “I know, man. It’s just.. it’s a lot...” “Hunk, you came all the way out. It has to be important. You’re not sick, are you?” Hunk hurried to hold up his hands, spilling his coffee as he did. His anxiety was starting to play on Keith’s own anxieties “No! No... um... it’s just... um... well, it’s Shay” No wonder Hunk was a mess. If it was his fiancé he turned to a ball of goop every time he thought of her “Is she alright?” “Um... Wewantohaveababybutwedon’tknowifit’sgoingtobepossible” Keith blinked at Hunk, Hunk flushed red as he took a deep breath, knowing that what he’d said was unintelligible “Shay and I want to have a baby” Discarding his own coffee to the table, Keith grabbed Hunk’s right hand, channeling his inner Lance as he smiled “That’s great news!” “You think?” “Hunk, I know you and Shay will make wonderful parents. I bet Lance said the exact same thing” Nodding, Hunk still looked flustered by it all “He did. I know he had some trouble on Altea so I asked about who he saw here... and with you both being here...” “You came out to see if you could get an appointment?” “Yeah. Yeah... It’s not weird is it?” “Not at all. Lance had a lot of trouble on Altea because the obstetrician was a total dick. He was scared to see him. He was made to feel wrong and stupid. He didn’t want to go back and he didn’t want to be treated on Daibazaal. You should have seen how good his obstetrician here was. Made him feel at ease. That he wasn’t messed up or gross. You would think a male Altean would be more open to concept of a pregnant man. Even though she’s no longer Lance’s treating physician she still took the time to check on his case and offer her input into his surgery. She’s been great with him” Keith didn’t know he was gushing. He didn’t mean to be gushing. He was just so damn proud of his husband and his sons. Starting to laugh, Hunk’s laughter startled him until his friend started shaking his head “Oh, man! Being a dad has changed you... You’d never say that before. Normally you get all grumpy when it comes to anyone near Lance” Keith rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. He wasn’t that bad “That’s not my fault. Blame Allura” Blaming Allura sobered Hunk’s laughter. Scratching the back of his head again, Hunk’s voice was low and measured “You know, I never thought she’d do something like that. I’m glad you didn’t let him push you away” Their poor friend would have a heart attack on the spot if he knew the full details of everything “He tried. If you had any idea how hard he tried... He can be unreasonably stubborn” “Dude, he’s always been stubborn. I know he said it was fine... but do you think he’d be mad if I did make an appointment for Shay?” “No. Lance would be mad if you didn’t” “Maybe... Are you sure he’s going to be ok? The tour took a lot of out of him. Then he vanished with Curtis... when you were...” “Lance is going to be fine. Tonight they’ll collect data on his brain and the damage. Tomorrow they’ll plan their approach to the surgery and how we can stop the seizures. He doesn’t know, but I’ve booked an appointment for both of us with his therapist” Keith expected Hunk to appeared shock, instead his friend smiled widely at him. After half a tick it started to feel somewhat creepy. It was just a therapist appointment. He’d thought maybe... no. He’d known that they both needed the appointment. That they’d both been through so much that reassessing coping mechanism would be a good start for them. Lance had grown so much better at stopping and breathing before proceeding. Just because it didn’t work all the time didn’t mean that it was something to give up on. “Red” may not be used as much, yet Lance knew if he needed to, he could use the one word to state he needed a break to breathe, or cuddles. “I’m proud of you, man. I know that tour wasn’t easy on either of you. Especially with the man it ended. Did you... Do you remember what happened?” Keith shook his head. That was problem for tomorrow. He wasn’t sure what facing Krystaal might shake loose but he still wanted to understand why things had to happen the way they had. Why Lance all the others had to be hurt the way they’d been, and most importantly, why he had to miss so many precious weeks of Lance’s pregnancy “No. It hasn’t come back” “Maybe that’s for the best? As long as you’re all ok...” “Yeah. Maybe. I think I want to know. It really cut Lance up inside... I remember that it was going to be our last planet because of all the stress... but I think I need to know for both our sakes. I don’t want to leave the Blades with any regrets” Hunk took his coffee up again “So you’re really leaving? Or on a leave of absence?” “Leaving. At least, I’m planning on leaving for now. I’ve got Lance and the boys to think about” “Have you asked him what he thinks?” “Not really. The plan was to phase out of work before we even found out he was pregnant. Now... Now I’ve got my sons to think of too. I don’t want to... I don’t want to leave for a mission and never come back to them. Knowing mum, she’ll probably still ask for my input but for now, I’m happy just being a dad” “You’ll be a good dad... You and Lance have both come a long way... It’s still so weird that you... I don’t mean Lance is weird. I mean... I don’t think any of us expected Allura to do what she did...” “Yeah. We have... Come a long way that is. No. Some days I can’t... I just can’t understand how she could decide this on her own, and on the spot like that... It hasn’t exactly been easy to process” “Yeah, I get what you mean. My best bud just gave birth out his arse” Keith snorted lightly “Shiro showed those videos, did he?” Hunk blushed. That was yes. High Lance was hilarious, and cringy at the same time “I hope you don’t mind... we wanted to come see you both as soon as we found out...“ “You had work. We understand. Lance was pretty out of it for that week” “Pidge mentioned that. She mentioned that his parents were there... and Krolia?” If Hunk was trying to imply or stealthily ask something, it went right over Keith’s head “Yeah. Jorge was fantastic with Korra. I was worried he’d be annoyed... But no, he was happy to hold her so Mami and mum could keep their hands free to help” “Mami’s always been good at adopting all of us as her own. We were all homesick out here, but seeing Lance with his family again... I was worried for him. Especially after Allura” “We were all worried after Allura” Hunk gave a small hum before silence fell between them. Feeling the need to do something, mostly get back to his husband, Keith downed his foul coffee before pushing his chair back. Taking the hint, Hunk looked down to his own cup before giving a shrug “I don’t want to know what they fed you on Daibazaal for you to be able to stomach this. I’m going to have to have a word with the cafeteria staff” “We both know you won’t. I’m going to head back up to Lance’s side. It’s probably too late to see about getting that appointment today, but if you see Th’al tell her to add your room to our bill. Her and Lance have some kind of arrangement seeing he’s technically the owner of the club. His surgery is scheduled for 11am Earth time, if you want me to come with you, I don’t mind” “What about the boys?” “Marco’s always said he was the best uncle ever. He and Dae are bringing them in so Lance can see them before he goes back under again” Then Marco would be staying at the hospital while Keith took both his boys with him over to Daibazaal... At any rate that was the plan. Telling Hunk that Lance’s surgery may be pushed back depending on the results from the overnight monitoring would only add to his friends worries. A night apart from them was breaking his heart, but right now they were safe and Lance needed him more. His instincts weren’t pleased his family was separated, even if it was necessary. The tick his boys were back in his arms, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to let them go again “So... do you think... would he be ok with a visit before? I don’t want to upset him” “Hunk, he’d be more upset if you didn’t visit. I know things have been... whatever they are, but you’re still like a brother to us. That hasn’t changed. I know he’s proud of you, and of you and Shay. These appointments aren’t easy, but trust me when I say she’s the only obstetrician I’ll ever trust near Lance” “That’s saying a lot. Alright. I guess I’ll head back to the club and see you in the morning” “Lucteal will probably walk back with you, if you’re interested. He and Th’al go way back” Hunk fiddled with his coffee cup “That’s alright. I get the feeling he doesn’t like me very much” “Nah. He’s like that with everyone. He hated me to begin with. He’s an empath so sometimes he gets a bit... grumpy” “I think Lance mentioned that before...” “If not him, then Daehra would have. This is a huge step for you and Shay, and we’ll help you guys out however we can” “Thanks, Keith” * By some cosmic miracle Lance slept through the night. Confused over the morning fuss about his brain, Keith had climbed onto the bed to cuddle with his husband as they waited for the results to be processed. Still early, they took the morning slow. Soft kisses and cuddles as Keith avoided mentioning what had happened the day before. Lance had already realised he must have had a seizure as he didn’t feel anything weird around his butt, as he put it. His husband was far too smart for his own good as the first thing he asked the attending doctor was if he had the results of his brain scan. Something Keith had half selfishly wanted to keep from him until after they’d spent time with their sons. He didn’t want his husband going into surgery worried. He wanted to spend their time surgery as they’d had, cuddling and close. Happy with just a touch of anxiety over what was coming. Naturally he didn’t want either of them to be stuck with the unwanted seeds of anxiety festering, but that was only natural when the one you loved was facing surgery again. Pulling up scans of Lance’s brain, Keith felt himself nodding along as the doctor spoke. A surgical option was possible, however, Lance’s brain had started forming new pathways around the damaged tissue. To perform surgery ran the risk of damaging his memory, as well running the risk of causing a surge of repressed memories to surface once the scar tissue was removed. Seeing his husband’s brain, and seeing the way his mind was working around the damage felt like something more out of a movie than real life. The best course of action would be a permanent implant at the base of Lance’s skull that would help to regulate the electrical activity of his brain. Lance instantly rejected the plan. Keith knew he would the moment the doctor had suggested it. He got it, he really did. Kre’el had placed that goddamn thing in his head. The idea of something else foreign there was something that Lance couldn’t cope with. Keith knew, and he understood, but that didn’t mean that there wasn’t a huge part of him that was angry over his husband’s decision. The implant would prevent his seizures, meaning Lance wouldn’t have to live in fear of when the next one would hit. He wouldn’t have to worry about one hitting in front of their friends, or when he was alone with the kids. With time, he was sure Lance would have been able to live with it, once he’d seen the benefits. Once he’d seen how it would ease his anxieties and give him that peace of mind... But Lance wasn’t at that stage yet. Everything happening right now was too overwhelming for him as it was. Recanting his objection, his husband softly reiterated that Keith had control and permission to make all his medical decisions for him. Pills were out of the question, limiting that Avenue to the shakes Daehra had made. Colleen had worked her arse off to help develop pills for them, which Lance had taken despite the gagging side-effect. Dios knew how tempted Keith was to again ignore his husband’s wishes. To be selfish and to never have to witness his husband seizing again... but, he knew deep down, if he didn’t allow Lance time to adjust to their new lives as parents, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if the mental stress got to his husband, or if psychosomatic symptoms were to present he would be entirely to blame. It was a “no” for now, but not a “no forever”. Lance could lead a relatively normal life provided he followed whatever medical regime Daehra devised. They’d have 6 months with her as it was, and possibly during that time, Lance would reach the decision to get the implant under his own terms. Awkwardness hung in the air after the doctor left to consult with Lance’s surgeon. Lance apologised tearfully for not being strong enough, and for angering him, while Keith felt like a dick for his scent betraying his true feelings on the matter. The soft warmth of holding each other had been tainted by the “ugly conversation”, leaving Lance to fall silent and Keith to simply hold him tighter. When Marco and Daehra arrived, Lance perked back up. His husband seemed to forget he was by his side as he happily greeted their sons with both hands out and a smile so big that Keith’s heart clenched. Passing Lance Laith, Lance immediately cuddled into his boy, kissing his hair and asking if he’d behaved, Marco then throwing himself down in the visitors chair that Keith was supposed to be in with a dramatic sigh “They cried all night. We’re fiiiiiiine, by the way. Can’t hear anything out either ear, but fine” Lance laughed softly at his brother’s antics as Keith sought out Daehra’s face. The same black bags under Marco’s face marred hers too. Holding his hands out, Daehra almost seemed happy to place Hunter into his hold “They cried all night?” He didn’t mean to sound accusing. He knew their sons could scream up a storm if they really wanted to, but to know they’d been distraught all night rubbed him the wrong way. Tiredly, Daehra nodded “I’m sorry. Neither of them wanted to settle... I... I’m sorry” Grabbing his girlfriend’s hand, Marco pulled her down into his lap “Babe. We talked about this. Babies are weird screaming, pooping, puking creatures. Sometimes they cry because they’re crying” “It does not mean it was a nice feeling” Wide awake in his arms, Hunter made a grabby motion for his finger as Keith moved his hand near his face. Letting his son take his finger, the baby boy gripped it lightly “Daehra, Marco’s right. Thank you for watching them. The only reason I could be here with Lance is because it was you guys who were watching them. Did you get any sleep at all?” Marco sighed again, Daehra letting her weight mould against him “We had some help. Hunk and some of the workers that know Lance tried to help out. Lucteal and Hunk took the morning shift” Sitting up a little straighter, Marco groaned “Mami would kill us. Do you know they have pr-sex workers at the club? And that Lance is friends with almost all of them? I shouldn’t be surprised. I know I shouldn’t be surprised. But the club is the club, and the outpost is the outpost and oh my god, was my brother a prostitute?!” Ending in an almost horrified whisper, Keith was glad Lance hadn’t noticed. As tempting as it was to punch Marco, Marco was still trying to learn the ins and outs of everything and everything Lance found normal in this sector of space “His first time was with me. Consensually” Lance’s first time had been stolen from him. They’d hooked up drunkenly, then... well... but as Keith saw it the first time Lance had had sex was with him. Though the term “making love” probably better fitted the scenario as Keith had already loved Lance from the very bottom of his heart when they had “Of course it was. What am I saying? You two dorks are the biggest dorks I know” With a gentle smile, Daehra kissed Marco’s cheek “They’re idiots. Two halves of the same idiot. That’s what we have agreed upon” “Right. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I need sleep” “You can sleep later. You humans need so much sleep. It’s rather ridiculous” “What are you talking about?” Craning past him, Lance had decided to rejoin the real world. Laith was asleep in his arms, as if he hadn’t been screaming all night “Marco called us “dorks”, and Daehra was correcting him” “She called us “idiots” right? We’re not “dorks”. Sometimes Keith is a “douche”, but that’s still not a “dork”” Marco rolled his eyes “Lance, I don’t think you’re supposed to call your husband a “douche” in front of the babies” “He’s my husband and if he’s being a douche I’m going to call him a douche. Right, babe?” Keith nodded, because what else could he do? He could be a “douche”, even when he didn’t mean to be and he’d far rather Lance calling him out when he was “Mhmm. Just like you can be a “dick”” Faking a pout, Lance settled back against the pillows behind him “Hear that, Laith? Your daddy is so mean to me” It was Keith’s turn to fake a pout “I’m not mean” “No. You’re not. I love you. Wanna swap babies? This one’s sleeping” “Nah. I’m right with Hunter. He doesn’t call me names” “Laith doesn’t call you names either” “Yeah, but he’s asleep. He missed you last night” “Not as much as I missed them. I can’t believe I slept soooo long” Keith went to kiss Lance’s hair before eyeing the bandaging, and changing to kiss his cheek “You needed it. Oh! That reminds me, where are our other two visitors?” Yawning, Marco earned himself a dig in the ribs from Daehra who replied instead of him “Gift shop. They got distracted. Lucteal got a call from Yule, so we left him behind. The other visitor seemed set on buying something, even if he didn’t know what he wanted to buy” Poor Hunk was probably agonising over a gift for Lance. Keith didn’t mind, provided Lance’s room didn’t turn into another gift store like it’d done on Earth “Other visitor? Who? Kosmo doesn’t have a credit card or GAC” Lance’s almost serious reply over their fur son had Keith snorting out a laugh. As tempting as it was to play along that Kosmo was shopping up a storm, he shook his head “No. Hunk popped by last night while you were sleeping” The words were instant, Lance nearly waking Laith “He came?!? Is it for... is it because...” Stopping himself from blurting out Hunk’s news, Lance stared at him with wide eyes “Yeah. I told him I’d go with him” “Oh good. You were supposed to. You know we can’t leave him alone or he’ll get too anxious” “If I was supposed to, why didn’t you tell me?” Lance shrugged “I forgot?” Knowing he couldn’t be blamed for his terrible memory, Keith felt as if Lance was dodging the question and instead had hoped that Hunk would come so Keith had someone else there to help support him “He said you might have” Lance gaped, then promptly shut his mouth after mumbling a low “traitor”. Despite how low the news of his brain trauma must have made him feel, his husband was trying so hard to be strong. Keith admiring him that little bit more for fighting hard to step forward with his life again “Don’t worry, babe. He gets it and he’s excited to see you and our boys” “Then he better get here soon. I wanna get this over with as soon as possible. I’m starving” That Lance wanted to eat was yet another positive point “That’s all you care about it, isn’t it? Whether he brought you snacks?” “I’m not Kosmo, I don’t get “snacks”. I get very manly cupcakes” “Of course you do” “You’d get very manly cupcakes too if you pushed two babies out your arse. But you didn’t, so none for you” “Ok, babe. Whatever you say” Brushing off the playfulness, the mood helped to ease the upcoming feeling of dread. Lance might want to get this all over with so he could eat, but each passing tick meant he was that much closer to having to kiss him goodbye and head to Daibazaal without him. A prospect that now looked exceptionally unappealing under the light of day... and maybe even a little traitorous as Lance wouldn’t be there by his side.

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E32 (August 28, 2018)

Tonight’s guests are Liam O’Brien and Sam Riegel!

Announcements: 

No Talks Machina next Tuesday, but they will be back the following week to discuss episode 33 of CR. Next Tuesday, instead of Talks, they’re filming something very special for the new channel. Sam: “You are? Oh, god.” 

Handbooker Helper premieres tomorrow at 10 AM Pacific Time at youtube.com/criticalrole! The first episode focuses on dice basics. 

There’s a new charity drive for the Pablove Foundation, dedicated to research toward ending children’s cancer; they’ve already hit the first $20k benchmark, which means Sam will be DMing a game of Crash Pandas! The next goal is $50k, which will be used to establish a research grant.

@critrolestats for this episode:

Nott has successfully disguised herself 12 times since the campaign started.

Caleb’s most-cast spells (in order): Alarm, Firebolt, and Identify.

The party has spent 55 of their 81 days together on the road.

Gustav’s sentence in Trostenwald lasted 77 days. He averaged about 7 gold, 8 copper per day of work.

Is Nott freaked out after her adventure with Jester went so badly? “Nott is always freaked out to do anything, but is starting to loosen up a bit and trust that-- at least up until this last episode-- trust that her friends could get her out of most scenarios. Maybe she’ll be a little more hesitant in the future.” She might “take one of the responsible ones along, like Fjord or Caleb.” Liam: “Yeah, you should bring someone sharp and level-headed, in case you need to go to a hospital...”

Caleb loves that a fan points out the parallels between Caleb’s similarities to the protagonist in the Dark Tower books: “Caleb wants to do really specific things, and he is not done with that. They’re potentially harmful, and I think that before he started traveling with these people, the main thing was getting them to trust me, and form a working relationship, but the bigger problem now is, does their friendship become a problem? Do I want to get close to you if I know potentially that I’ve got to walk away from you at a bad moment?” There’s another element he can’t talk about yet where he took more direct inspiration from The Dark Tower. He’s not sure yet which way Caleb will end up veering, and whether there’s a point where he’ll prioritize his friends over his long-term goals. “For all characters, there’s what he tells himself is the deal, and what’s really the deal. I’m enjoying not knowing where the hell it’s going.”

“Nott doesn’t really much care about Gustav, but also does not give a shit about money. It’s a means to an end for her.” Other than providing a little security for herself and Caleb, “the other stuff is way cooler, the little buttons and stuff.” When the opportunity came to pay so much for Gustav’s release, “she was like, ‘Yeah, sure, great.’”

Sam and Nott both wanted to know more about Molly’s past. Liam wanted to know, but Caleb didn’t care. Especially since Molly emphasized not caring about his past, and they didn’t know each other too well, Caleb was satisfied to just take that at face value. Molly’s experience was also interesting as a complete opposite to Caleb’s own experience of being completely consumed by his past.

Sam and Liam talk about how they both think about the show constantly throughout the week. Liam: “And I also spend 10% of my week thinking about Vax, too.”

Gif of the Week: Caduceus learns how much money 400 gold is. There may or may not be a live voiceover version of the text.

Why does Caleb still use fire? “Caleb feels like he needs to work through it, ‘cause fire’s not going anywhere. Maybe something that will come out eventually is the reason that fire is his first and he has a real affinity for it now. The fire is natural progression. The Fireball is something that Caleb got just from leveling up, so I took that for him to be understanding what he can already do and magnifying it. It’s the strongest weapon in his arsenal. He needs to master the misery and the pain so he’s ready to deal with facing his ex-teacher someday, or other people.” On Beau being the one to bring him back each time lately: “He likes that. It’s a flawed friendship, it’s not affectionate the way Caleb and Nott is, but that’s okay. The instinct to bet big and tell her everything came from a sense of shared interest, and shared point of view. They’re still very different, but there’s a lot in common there.” A lot of the things she does has been reaffirming his choice to take a chance on her.

Nott’s aware that she’s been more and more powerful, and so she’s been drinking less in battle situations. “She’s still skittish and gets nervous about stuff, but they’ve survived and succeeded in enough fights now that she’s becoming a little more brave.” Liam asks if Nott knows how gifted she is. Sam: “She’s aware that she can do things better than other folks in the group, but she probably would not think those things are the most spectacular.” Liam talks about how Caleb and Nott are “two different kinds of gifted weirdos.” Sam: “Just like us. Except for the ‘gifted’ part.”

Caleb was impressed by Caduceus’ approach to the Ettin encounter.

Sam: “Something that I just decided about goblins: they have short lifespans, and they’re also super brutal and just attack and they’re mean and get hungry and all this stuff, so I just thought, maybe goblins are just like unrestrained id.” A lot of Nott’s character came from that thought.

It felt really strange for Nott and Caleb to be welcomed by Alfield when they arrived. Caleb’s concerned about their amplified visibility in the Empire, which isn’t sitting well with him. At least when they’re affiliated with the Gentleman and the criminal element, it keeps the visibility away. Nott’s hesitant to be in the spotlight, but has also realized that cheering means fewer thrown rocks, so that’s good.

Fanart of the Week: Jester and Caduceus strolling through town.

There’s a brief foray into autoerotic asphyxiation. As you do.

Liam, Taliesin, and Marisha have all met SideBySamuel. The mystery continues.

Caleb on the dodecahedron: “It’s a little too perfect.” It confirms what he believes---that it has to be possible to manipulate time---and drives him forward. He wonders about the source that this thing is a splinter of. He’s also wondering if the Academy’s project is one and the same. “Time travel is good. It definitely does not endanger present reality.”

“What is Talks Machina, Brian?”

Brian: “We have to put a stop to this.”

Sam: “On the surface, Nott noticed that Caleb mentioned Astrid and probably just thinks that it would be nice to have a young lady in his life.” Dani: “I called your ex-girlfriend the other day, and we’re having lunch.” Sam: “I hear she’s a doctor...” Liam: “I’m tired of coming over to these dinners, ma.” Sam: “I hear the wizard down the street got married...”

Liam on Astrid: “That would be bad stuff. Bad news. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but it’s complicated.” Sam: “Astrid has got to be either super bad guy now, super dead, or something else we don’t know about.” Liam: “One of the many things Caleb wonders about every night before he goes to sleep, about both his friends. He doesn’t know. It’s been 16 years since he saw them last.” He’s 33 now. The fire happened when he was about 16, he was in the asylum for 11-ish years, and then he was traveling on his own for about five.

Nott worries about Caleb “about the same” in battle, but she’s definitely noticing the others stepping up, especially Beau, to watch out for and protect him. Sam points out that Liam’s strategy has been excellent lately to keep Caleb out of danger. “Nott always has an eye on Caleb, and Sam always has an eye on Caleb.” Liam: “That’s what Vax did. I would override common sense consciously because I thought it was in-character.” He still has to suppress his first instinct to have Caleb fling himself into danger for his friends.

On the surface, Caleb knows it’s not a good thing for Nott to be so affectionate toward him, but deep down, Caleb really appreciates Nott’s affection. “With Beau, there’s no affection, but he feels like he should be called an asshole and a shit, and he feels like he deserves it. It will keep him sharpened and on task.” He likes, on an unconscious level, what he gets from both of them for different reasons.

Which pet does Nott want to eat first? The weasel. Definitely. Sam ventures a theory that the pets represented the members of Vox Machina. The truth is out there, Sam.

To Caleb, it felt a bit wrong to turn his back on the Empire given everything that’s happening right now and everything that has to happen there in the future.

Talks Machina: After Dark: When It Gets Dirty (Big Dick Peanut Butter Energy)

Liam brings out both his Speak-n-Spell voice and his ~Cuddlefish~ voice. He also does a Nott impression. Sam: “You sound like Miss Piggy on acid.”

Nott’s not looking forward to the beach. Caleb’s interested in the beach in a Death in Venice kind of way. Brian ventures a guess that they’re going to discover that Caleb’s just inexplicably super ripped.

What tricks do they want to teach the pets? Liam: “Maybe ‘Die Instead Of Me’.”

Does Beau secretly have a gooey center? Sam and Liam, in unison: “Ask Keg.”

Nott feels safe with the M9 around, not because they protect her, but because they protect each other. “She’s always relied on Caleb for protection, and now I think she’s relieved more than surprised that she doesn’t have to put that burden on Caleb, or each other. That they have a support group of people that can help them and keep them out of danger.”

Nott expects Jester’s mom to be a “real sweet, fine, fancy lady.” Liam: “Caleb had good parents, and everything that Jester describes does not sound great to him.” He doesn’t say anything to her about it because he doesn’t feel like he can give advice. Dani: “My parents that I killed were awesome. As a child of great parents, that I murdered...”  He keeps asking about her childhood, and he’s fond of her, so he’s dismayed about what he hears, but he feels like he can’t say anything about it.

Liam: "My least favorite thing about Sam is how much of a fucking food snob he and his wife are. It’s unbearable, mostly because I want the food.” Sam: “The thing that I love most about Liam is that he’s a gentle love, but he’s a kind soul. He wants to help people. But he can’t because he’s too busy.” Liam: “True, true, true. What I like about Sam is he’s the living embodiment of Shakespeare’s Fools. He’s seemingly a buffoon, but if you know him well, you know that there’s no end to the depth and soul of his character. He is skating on talent and wit.”

Liam: “I don’t know how cameras work.”

Recap/review 14.19: “Jack in the Box”

THEN: Eh, you know all this. Oh, wait, here's something interesting - a reminder that Naomi was overcome by the Empty slime. Which reminds me of my theory that Naomi and/or Duma might actually be the Empty Entity. Hmmm. Oh, and also, all the Jack stuff.

NOW: There's a bunch of hunters in the bunker, drining beer and looking at pictures of Mary and her stuff on the map table. Including the picture Sam burned. Well, I'm glad it wasn't the only copy. And whatever these rings and calipers are that are always on the map table, apparently they're permanent, because they weren't removed for this little memorial display. Also, John's journal is part of the display, and I know they gave it to Mary to read, but still, it's John's. This bothers me.

So, are these surviving AU hunters? If not, that means the Winchesters have opened the bunker up to every hunter they know (and revealed its location to everyone they know), which is... not what I would have done. TFW makes an entrance (why were they not in there with their guests) and Dean thanks them for coming and makes a little speech but I'm finding it real hard to concentrate on Dean right now because LOOK AT SAM'S SHIRT. LOOK AT IT. It's CLOSE-FITTING and it's NOT PLAID and whatever awful things this episode does (and my completely unspoiled prediction is that IT WILL DO AWFUL THINGS), we at least got this.

I strongly suspect this is actually Jared's shirt.

Dean informs the gathered that they missed the pyre, sorry. And he mentions that some of them fought Michael with her in the other world so they ARE AU hunters! Or at least some of them! Well, that's good to know. Sam doesn't have to feel personally responsible for killing everyone who came over, just a handful. Including the only one who had a name, and probably that guy who called him Chief (sob), but some of them remain. Anyway. Dean gives his eulogy (and Sam's not the only worth a second look in this scene, because Dean looks pretty amazing as well) and they drink beer and then an AXE FLIES IN OUT OF NOWHERE, SLOWLY AND AWKWARDLY SPIRALING INTO A HUNTER'S HEAD. People seem surprised, but it's the mild kind of surprise you'd get if he threw his beer at somebody, not if an axe suddenly appeared embedded in his head. The thrower of the axe walks in - it's New Bobby. WELL.

Title card! Bobby informs me that it was a hatchet, not an axe, and he wants it back. (Sidebar: It literally never occurred to me to think about the difference between a hatchet and an axe until earlier this week when I was listening to a murder podcast that specified someone was killed with one, not the other.) He also tell us that the "hunter" was actually a wraith "from a nest your mom and I busted up" and SEE, GUYS? This is why you don't invite people to the bunker. Now a bunch of wraiths probably know where it is. And we know the warding is a joke. Cas thinks Mary would have appreciated a monster at her memorial. I don't think Cas knows Mary very well but whatever.

Bobby asks Sam how he and "the other one" are doing, and we watch Dean pack up Mary's belongings (including John's journal? that's going away?) and Sam says he "seems to be doing okay" which is, of course, how they operate. No one asks how Bobby's doing, even though he had a relationship with Mary too (and over the course of her life probably spent as much time with her as Sam did, when you come right down to it), but Bobby says he's not into public displays of grief anyway, and Dean is probably the same (which is true, except for when it's very very not true).

Sam suggests they drink the scotch Ketch left (and I wonder if this means Ketch came for the memorial, and left some scotch, or if he's referring to a bottle from a previous season that somehow remained through all those events that really would have called for some serious scotch-drinking) and talk about Mom. Dean points out that they have been talking about Mom and stalks out and leaves Sam sad.

Sam and Bobby and Cas settle for beer instead, and Dean walks in just as Bobby asks "what exactly happened to her, cause I'm hearing, the kid." Oh, that's interesting that they wouldn't have given him the whole story. Or maybe it's not. Maybe it makes sense that they'd keep things vague, tell everyone she "died on a hunt." Dean needs a drink, but not in the bunker. Sam tells him they need to talk about Jack, and he says "we will" and quickly makes his escape. Bobby and Cas have this funny exchange.

I liked the kid. We fought together. But there's only way this ends.

Bobby's right. We have to find Jack and help him.

What?

Hee! Cas feels Jack might not realize what he did was wrong, and Bobby astutely points out that if he didn't realize it was wrong, that's kind of a big problem, because if Kelly's influence has been burned away, that means Lucifer is all that's left. Bobby means to hunt him down. "An unstoppable monster who don't know right from wrong gets put down." Um, Bobby, let's consider the unstoppable part of that declaration. (Also, should someone point out to Bobby that Jack accidentally killed someone even back when he did have a soul? Probably not.)

Cut to Jack, who is still? again? at an abandoned warehouse or factory or something. He's remembering what he did, and wishing his mother was there to tell him what to do. Oh, she's not here, but Hallucidad is. He tells Jack that the Winchesters don't care about him, he was just a pet and a weapon, and again, it hurts knowing that this is Jack's subconscious saying these things. Jack thinks he can explain and apologize, and if that's so, Jack, then why didn't you do that when they caught you raising Mary's not-corpse? No, says Hallucifer, they hate you.

Cut to Dean, sitting outside somewhere in the dark, crying.

This is not okay. I mean, it is, but it's not.

Heaven. (yawn.) Cas again tells Duma that he wants to see Naomi, and again she denies him. It turns out Naomi is in "a very small cell" because Heaven was invaded under her watch. I didn't think they had enough spare angels around to lock one up just because they don't think she's a good leader. She might be a great follower. (Yeah, probably not.) Cas tells her he needs help looking for Jack, who has burned through his soul and is no longer being protected by the Winchesters. Hmmm, she says, this is very useful information to have. Internally. Out loud, she tells Cas she'll see what she can do, which he of course takes as an offer to help. Oh, Cas.

Bunker. Sam's working at his computer when Dean comes back. Sam's wearing a different shirt. I don't know if that means it's the next day, or just that he changed out of his nice funeral shirt. He asks Dean how he's doing, but Dean ignores that and asks what Sam's doing.

Trying to find Jack. We've gotta find him before Bobby and his crew, because if they find him first -

He's gonna kill them all.

... I don't know.

Oh, Sam, you DO know. You are obviously concerned about Bobby et al killing Jack, not the other way around. And it breaks my heart. Sam also wants to talk about Mary and the fact that they don't have to rely on faith to know Mary's in Heaven, because they personally know Heaven and angels are real. Dicks, but real. He says Mary's in a great place, with John, because again we're forgetting or denying what we know about Heaven. Dean, the eternal ray of sunshine, points out that there wasn't enough of Mary left to bring back to life even if they wanted to.

Back to Jack, who has a surprise visitor. It's Duma! Oh, cool, she's helping Cas find him, just like she said she would! Ha ha ha nope. (Sidebar: How did Duma find him, and why doesn't Cas have the same ability? Discuss.) He remembers her from his trip to Heaven that one time he died. She tells him Mary's death wasn't his fault, and he deserves redemption after his mistake, because he has "a glorious destiny." She tells him Heaven has fallen apart since God left, and no one gives them the respect they deserve, but Jack, YOU can save Heaven and make the world better and wouldn't that make Sam and Dean happy? Their first stop on the Make The World Better Tour is to turn a famous God denier into a pillar of salt. Oh, irony. (Also, he's safe from ghosts now, so. Bonus?)

Bunker. Cas is telling the Winchesters that Heaven promised to "make every effort" to find Jack. Which 1) isn't exactly what we saw happening, unless you're naive enough to think "I'll see what I can do" means "I'll make every effort", and b) even if that is what Duma said, as Dean points out, "Oh, Heaven promised? Great, well we should take that to the bank." But Cas thinks Heaven has as much reason to want to find Jack as they do. Which is true. But doesn't mean they're going to turn him over to you, Cassie.

Coincidentally, Sam has just read about Professor Pillar of Salt. "Why does that sound familiar?" Dean asks. You know, I don't know the Bible very well. If a particular event didn't show up in "Jesus Christ Superstar" or "The Ten Commandments," I'm not likely to be familiar with it. And yet I know about Lot's wife turning into a pillar of salt. And I've never been to Heaven or met an angel. So.

Cas explains the story and says no ordinary angel could turn a human into salt. Sam reads another story about a dishonest televangelist (yeah, I know, that's redundant) who had a crevice open in the ground under her and swallow her up, and again Dean's not familiar with the story, but this time I'm not either. But Cas knows it's from the book of Numbers. Allegedly, only Jack or Chuck himself could perform these acts.

Heaven. Duma tells Jack he's doing excellent work, and he can help bring Heaven back to its previous glory.

Sam and Dean will like that?

Words can't begin to express how Sam and Dean will feel.

Hee!

So let's talk about what's going on here. I appreciate that they're framing this as Jack trying to get back into Sam and Dean's good graces. In fact, I'm a little hopeful at this point. If Jack-who-is-being-used-by-Heaven is the Big Bad, doesn't that mean stopping the Big Bad could just mean they rescue him from Duma's manipulation? Maybe? (Yeah, I know. But a girl can dream.)

Anyway. Duma's next task for Jack is to create more angels. She tells him he can't make them out of thin air, but if a human is "predisposed" to it, he might be able to forge them into an angel. Oooooh, this opens up some chilling possibilities about who could be turned into an angel. But it turns out he's not going after anybody named Winchester. He's just sitting on the throne "where your grandfather received prayers" (and where your father sat) and listening to prayers. (Sidebar: Why hasn't Sam tried to communicate with Jack by praying to him? Discuss.)

For whatever reason, he hones in on one particular group of worshippers who are about to discuss the book of Samuel (hee!) with Pastor Ames. Jack zaps into the room, asks if they meant it when they said they wanted to go to Heaven, and shows them his wings. Sold! Pastor Ames missing that demonstration, so when he comes in and calls Jack a liar, Jack hits him with another Biblical curse: "he was eaten by worms and breathed his last." Pastor Ames falls to the ground with worms popping out of him everywhere, and Jack and his future angels disappear.

Hospital. Guys, look at the suits! Have they ever worn such narrow pants? What is going on here? Someone new in the wardrobe department?

Mama like.

Agents Kilmister, Clark, and Taylor (hee) are visiting bandaged-up Pastor Ames, who identifies a photo of Jack. They leave, and Cas recites the relevant verse and Sam says, surprised, "so you think this is another Bible thing?" AS IF THAT WASN'T WHY THEY'RE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE, and as they leave, we see that Pastor Ames is not over his worm infestation after all.

Back at the bunker, Dean tells Sam that he didn't want it to come to this, but they have no choice. Come to what? What's behind the door in room 5B? It's the thing we all knew was coming - the box! (And if you didn't see it coming, the title of this episode clearly gave it away, which is why I consider titles of unaired episodes to be spoilers.) Sam, who is clearly not behind this plan in any way shape or form, points out that they don't have the ability to force Jack into the box, and he won't go in there of his own free will.

But he might. He might if he only has to stay in there long enough for us to finish the spell to fix his soul.

Spell? What spell? There is no spell.

*We* know that.

Oh, no, this is not good, and Sam already hates it.

... So, you want to lie to him.

No, I mean, I *want* Zeppelin to get back together. But what I *need*, what *we* need, is to stop Jack. Big difference. But here's the deal; we both gotta sign off on it. This might be our only shot, and if he even catches a whiff that this is a scam, he's off into the wind.

Exactly. Now, how do you think he's not gonna know something's up?

Because you're gonna be so damn sincere -

Me? Why me?

Because you've always been in his corner. You're his go-to guy. Sam, if you reach out, he'll come. If I do it, after what happened to Mom, I could lose him. I *will* lose him.

Oh no, no, no, Sam is SO not on board with this plan. Because the worst thing that could happen is that it doesn't work, and the second worst thing is that it does work. Dean is so calmly insistent, and Sam is so unhappy, and his FACE when Dean tells him HE will be sincere is just killing me, and no matter what I think about this episode or or this entire story arc, I love what the guys are doing with this scene.

Maybe it's just me, but I'm finding a silver lining here.

Sam sits down at the library table and begins praying to Jack, which doesn't answer my question of why they haven't already tried communicating with him that way. In fact, it makes me ask it harder. He tells him that they're family, and bad things happen in families but they want to get through it, they want to be like they were before. Jack hears Sam's prayer as he assembles his future angels. Meanwhile, Cas has barged his way into Heaven to rescue Jack, having figured out that Heaven has no mercy and angels do bad things, and Cas? How is this POSSIBLY news to you? Duma threatens to end Mary and John's happy little afterlife together (Is this confirmation that they really are sharing a Heaven, even though his name isn't on the door? Maybe. Do I accept it? Not necessarily) so Cas stabs her. Well. We're down to, what, ten angels now? He calls for Jack, but Jack's already gone, having just appeared in the bunker.

Jack tells Sam and Dean he's been working with Heaven, and "if it helps, I regret it... the accident."

Again, the guys do a beautiful job with this scene. Even if it's an awful, awful scene, they're acting the hell out of it. Sam is as anxious as he was when he was trapped in a cell with Jack the day he was born, the way his hands twitch when he gets up from the table and circles behind Dean, and then carefully places himself between Dean and Jack, and how he physically reacts when Jack steps closer, and they're both keeping their distance and moving so carefully, and then there's the way Dean is practically unblinking and is very obviously working SO HARD not to spontaneously combust, staying practically motionless and keeping his voice even, although anyone could tell he's absolutely BOILING under the surface from the look on his face and his tone of voice every time he says the accident. All of this is amazing.

But yeah, it is also an awful scene. Because Jack isn't guilty or apologetic at all. He's actually kind of smug about working with Heaven and making angels, and very condescending about regretting "the accident," and I just don't think he would be there. I think he would tell them how sorry he was, and that he tried to fix it, and basically everything he said to Hallucifer. He wouldn't say "I knew you'd understand" when they tell him they forgive him. His blind self-assurance would make sense if it came at the end of a 2- or 3-episode arc, where Duma had spent more than a day telling him how awesome he was. So while I love Sam and Dean in this scene, love them to pieces, Jack is just... ugh. Beyond OOC. Moving on. Dean tells Jack they're working on a way to fix his soul, and they want to keep him safe (from having another ACCIDENT) in the meanwhile. Sam oh-so-tentatively puts a hand on Jack's shoulder and dear GOD he is so afraid and I LOVE IT.

Again, quite a silver lining to this dark little raincloud.

They take him to the room with the magic box, which Dean claims is "actually pretty comfortable." Dean stays still and Sam fidgets and Jack says "okay" and climbs into the box. "How long before I can come out?" he asks. Sam is more and more fidgety as he says "not too long," and Dean is like stretched rubber band about to snap as he holds himself back from slamming the lid down. "Jack, we got this," Sam lies. "Okay," Jack says again, and he lies down and they didn't even put a pillow in the damn box, why does he think this is okay, why does he think they're working in his best interest if they didn't even give him a damn pillow? Dean shuts the lid and rushes to close the locks and Sam hates this, hates it so much.

Shhh. Don't even listen. Just turn the sound down and enjoy the pretty, pretty angst.

Alone in the box, Jack calls to the Winchesters, but they're already shutting the door to room 5B. They move to the kitchen to finish off Ketch's scotch and talk about the future.

So what do we do now? Just go on, with Jack locked up in there forever?

We have to.

I don't know if I can do that.

Dean ignores Sam's shaky voice and decides to talk about the scotch and sure, we all recognize this is Dean's way of coping. Pretend it's not happening, pretend it doesn't bother him. Because I have to think that, no matter how much he wants revenge against Jack, he understands that being locked in that box forever is still a horrible fate. (A fate Dean was willing to accept, but still.) Sam, meanwhile, needs to talk, just like he needed to talk about Mary.

You know, I never thought it would end like this, with Jack.

Sammy, we knew from the beginning it was a long shot with him.

Yeah. Yeah. But, long shots are kind of our thing.

So let's talk about Sam's guilt. His beautiful, beautiful guilt. Not only over tricking someone he loves into being locked up in a box forever, but for bringing Jack into their lives in the first place. And yet. Jack has always been unstoppable, hasn't he? So if Sam hadn't opened his humongous heart and taken him in, he would have been out there alone. No one teaching him how to use and control his powers, no one keeping him away from Lucifer. He would have been an unstoppable enemy instead of an unpredictable ally. Sam did the right thing, even though it ended bad. Because it was always going to end bad.

Have I mentioned that I could watch an entire episode that was just Dean drinking?

Back in room 5B, Jack's starting to panic, and still calling for Sam and Dean. They don't show up, but Hallucifer does (oh god, I want to see Sam find out he basically locked Jack in that box with Lucifer) and informs Jack he's been played.

In the kitchen, Cas arrives with the news that Duma has been manipulating Jack, and they really need to find him. The guys are all, oh, whoops, forgot to call you, he's here, locked in the box.

Jack gets glowy eyes and tries to break out of the box, but nothing happens.

Cas is horrified that the guys still plan to keep Jack in the box, even knowing his latest acts were due to being manipulated. Sam says "That's the problem. If he's that easily manipulated, he's too dangerous to be out of the box." Oh, no he doesn't. Instead, Dean says "He agreed to it." Yes, in much the same way Sam agreed to be Gadreel's vessel. You keep telling yourself that, Dean. In fact, Dean is trying to claim that deep down, Jack knows it's best. Oh, no, no you don't. Cas points out that Dean manipulated Jack as much as Duma did.

(Sidebar: I'm convinced that Sam would be able to forgive Jack. Because of his endless capacity for forgiveness, and because he sees himself as being in Jack's shoes at a different point in his life. Dean, on the other hand, would not. Because Dean is a normal human being when it comes to forgiveness, and because Dean puts loyalty to family above everything else.)

Box. Jack tries harder. Lucifer laughs. The box glows.

Kitchen. The arguing is interrupted by an earth-shattering kaboom. Things fall off shelves. The red emergency lights and klaxon come on. TFW leaps up and runs to room 5B. The room is a smoke-filled wreck and a figure with glowing gold eyes is walking out of the red-tinged smoke. "Jack," Sam gasps.

Duh duh duuuuuhhhh! Next week, Cas makes Dean write I knew a nephilim was more powerful than its angel parent but I assumed the box would be stronger than Jack anyway 100 times on the blackboard.

Okay, the bad happened, as we all figured it would. But let's talk about the good. Jack's not locked in the box forever. That's a relief - it would have been a very unsatisfactory conclusion. And the guys looked extraordinary. And there was so much emotion, both the tightly-controlled type, and the worn-on-his-sleeve type, and I love them both. Honestly, considering what happened in this one, and who wrote it, it was a lot better than I expected. A lot better than it could have been. (Will I go read your reactions now and see that every single one of you disagrees with me? Quite possibly.)

Next week is the next-to-last "Carry On Wayward Son."

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

On the 7/11/13, a Thursday, Nowhere Boys first premiered.

I remember the trailer for the first episode. The show looked interesting. Boys go missing in a forest then get home to find that no one knows them and reality is altered? You’ve got my attention. I’ll check it out for sure. I also remember the individual Bremin 4 trailers. I only got to see Felix’s and Jake’s and that annoyed me. I wanted to see all of them. I wanted to know the characters.

I immediately deemed Felix as my favourite even before the show started because I was heavily into Pewdiepie at the time. That quickly changed during the show. No hate on Felix, I just preferred Jake after a few episodes.

I watched the first episode and I enjoyed it greatly, as well as the rest of the season. The ending of the first episode when Oscar stood up was stunning. Trying to figure out if the boys were in another world or had manipulated their own, what and who the fifth element was, why had this predicament happened in the first place was fun. This show was so exciting. I became a full-on fangirl quickly.

It was also relatable for me. As an Australian teenager the show was so homely in this weird way. Hearing magpies squawk in the background and the bogan-ness of the characters were nice because most of the shows that interested me like this weren’t Australian. It was 2013 and I was in 10th grade like the characters which was pretty cool too, but 2013 was the beginning of the rough patch of my life. I won’t get too deep into it because this post isn’t about that but I will briefly go over it. I started getting sick, massive stomach cramps almost every day, and all sectors of life started to falter because of them.

Before the season final, three of the Nowhere Boys, Joel (Andy), Matt (Jake), and Dougie (Felix), were doing a live Q and A. It was hectic. Once you posted your question you wouldn’t see it for another ten minutes. Some replies I could only see once the Q and A was over. I asked two questions and got two replies. I felt like the luckiest person in the world that I didn’t just get one but two replies.

For the below question I asked Matt what he was afraid of.

Then Season 1 was left on a cliffhanger. They had powers, of course, that made sense. And Alice was back and ready to cause trouble. I couldn’t wait to see what could happen.  

I remember thinking that Nowhere Boys wouldn’t get a second season. I knew it was successful, it won a Logie and an AACTA, but I just didn’t think that it would. So I was very excited when we did get a second season confirmed, especially as it was a very bad day I had. We were going to get answers to every question we had from those last few minutes of Season 1.

I remember the sneak preview of Season 2. It was Halloween and I had to tape it because I was over my friend’s, NN (only using initials in case she doesn’t want to be named), for Halloween like usual. I remember thinking that Andy couldn’t be missing for the whole season. He’s one of the Bremin Four. He’s got to be fine in about three episodes, right?  Yeah, no, okay…

Season 2 felt a lot more serious to me in general too, stakes felt higher. Other than Andy going missing and for the first half of the season we had no clue where he was we had a death technically with Saskia, we had a proper villain with Alice, someone we could see and fear, we had real life consequences for the Nowhere Boys with the police investigation, etc. I really liked season 2.

Then the most horrid year of my life happened, 2015. Again, I won’t go into deep detail as this post isn’t about that, but every month something horrible happened. People died, pets died, my school life died and I felt like I was dying as I was in pain every day.

I fell into a deep depression and really didn’t want to live. One of the only things that kept me going, kept me motivated, was Nowhere Boys. I became obsessed with it. Every waking second I thought about the show. It was what I needed. I needed something to take over and give me some kind of structure to live with. I needed a positive outlet to fill my day as there was hardly anything positive for me.

I was researching elements and other things involved with Nowhere Boys, I was making art (that no one will see because most are pretty terrible), I was writing fanfic (again, that no one will ever see, not right now anyway), I was coming up with insane theories, I even made this blog so I could post theories (which I didn’t really do for some reason). Everything revolved around the show, and I wouldn’t say this type of obsession is healthy, but at the time it was. It anchored me to life.

I invited NN around to watch the final of Season 2. She missed about five episodes so I rewatched them with her and we got them done in time before the new episode aired. However, something happened. About an hour before the episode was going to air, my entire suburb had a power outage. I was livid. I can’t miss this episode. This could be the last episode ever and I’m going to miss it.

I knew that I would be able to watch it eventually, ABC iView is a thing and so are repeats, but I really wanted to watch it when it premiered. A first world problem I know, but my obsession was that serious. It was also about 30 degrees Celsius so we were sweating a lot. After the episode aired and was uploaded to iView we watched it and Andy finally came back.

Season 2 ended and again I thought that was it, no more Nowhere Boys. I even made another ‘ode’ post because I thought that was the end. It made me sad to think about the end. The show had ended on another cliff hanger, and I thought we’d never find out the truth of it (which we technically didn’t).

I wanted to make a bucket list of things that I wanted to do, as mortality became a thing I thought about a lot at the time, and at the top of the list was meeting someone who had worked on Nowhere Boys. An actor, a writer, a camera operator, an extra... it didn’t matter. I just wanted to meet someone who had worked on this show that helped me live and thank them for it. I didn’t think that would happen but I hoped. Maybe somehow with some weird coincidence it would happen, weird things can happen.

I have very weird dreams and during this time they mainly resolved around meeting the Nowhere Boys, but they were never coherent. There’d always be some weird scenario like I was at my local shops and some of the Nowhere Boys were there somehow, or I had powers and I was helping them defeat some monster. There were probably whackier ones but I cannot remember them.  

Then on 14/5/15, Nowhere Boys: Book of Shadows was announced and it was amazing. I remember thinking that there would be a premiere for it like with the first four episodes of Season 1 and 2, and that maybe there’d be a competition. That’d be cool. Maybe I could win. Maybe not, again weird things can happen.

I remember the cinema locations and being disappointed there weren’t any near me. I knew it wouldn’t be possible to travel an hour to see a movie in some dingy theatre. There’s no way I could have convinced my mum to take me that far to see a movie, and with it premiering on ABC3 early the next year, what would the point be? I understood that I’d have to wait, even if I didn’t want to. Everyone else had to and I was like everyone else, again it’s a first world problem. A competition would change things though. My mum would take it seriously if I won a competition and it wouldn’t just be to see the movie. It’d be more important.

2015 wasn’t a good year, until one thing happened.

On the 7/12/15, I woke up with this gut feeling that something had happened with Nowhere Boys. I turned my phone on and went on the ABC3 FB page, and there it was: A competition to win tickets to the world premiere of Nowhere Boys: Book of Shadows and to meet the cast. I freaked out. This is exactly what I said would happen. I need to win this. I’m going to win this.

I messaged NN and I told her to enter. I would take her and she would take me if either of us won. She agreed and I then immediately got to crafting the most perfect response I could make. The rule to enter was ‘write who your favourite character is and why in 25 words or less.’ At first I was unsure which character to use. I was tossing up whether to use my actual favourite character, Jake, or the most popular character, Felix. I wanted the best chance to win. Should I go with my heart or cater to the people choosing the winners? After a little deliberating I went with my heart. If I was going to lose this competition I would lose it by doing what felt right. I perfected a sentence that I felt wasn’t too over the top but seemed like it had some amount of effort put into it, and I commented it and waited.

It’s three days later when I got a notification from the ABC3 FB page. All it said was that they had replied to my comment. My heart started beating faster, and in my gut I knew what it would say, but I tried to be level headed. Maybe they’re informing me that I lost, but would they go through every losing comment and say sorry? No they wouldn’t. I click on the notification, and there it is. “Hi (my name) You’ve won!”

I cried. I was so happy I just cried. My dream was about to come true. I left my room and entered the front room freaking out my mum. The last time she had seen me leave my room in tears I told her somebody I knew died. I managed to tell her that I won the competition. At first she’s confused, then shocked, then concerned. She’s terrified of being on planes and we’d have to go on one.

Oh yeah, we had to go on a plane. The premiere was in Melbourne, Victoria, and I lived an hour from Sydney, New South Wales. I needed to be in Melbourne in two days. I needed plane tickets and a place nearby the cinema to stay in in two days. I had been saving money for years in case there was a circumstance like this or an emergency. I guess it paid off, literally.

My mum called my great aunt, her aunt, and asked her for a very big favour. Would she accompany me, my nan, and NN to Melbourne? Luckily, she said yes. I hastily messaged NN as my family and I drove to the nearest travel agency. We’d never travelled anywhere like this, we’d never gone on holiday so not only was it very stressful to get everything in time we had no clue what we were doing. Luckily everything turned out alright. The agent we went to and spoke to was very kind and helped us out.

Two days later I was in Melbourne. The hotel we stayed in was nice. It wasn’t a five star hotel or anything, we got one of the cheaper ones because it didn’t matter, but it was so fancy to me. We had two suites but they were conjoined, so NN and I stayed in one, and my nan and her sister stayed in the other.

We had a nice view of the petrol station which mind sound sarcastic as it wasn’t very scenic, but I did think it was a nice view. The drawers in the kitchen were weird though. You pushed them in and then they’d open. I almost hit NN in the head with one.

NN and I went to bed watching Lord of the Rings, which was really good. I’d never watched it before. Don’t judge. Then the next day came by so quickly.

We got into our outfits, not too over the top but still something nice, this was a movie premiere after all. Then an hour and a half before the premiere, 2:30pm, we hopped in the taxi and went to Lido Cinema.

It was situated in this long hallway of shops. In the centre were the stairs up to the cinema and Book of Shadows.

There were a few people there but the place started buzzing about 30 minutes later. Most people probably don’t remember but there was a host of ABC3 named Tim and he turned up with a cameraman to showcase the event for the channel. NN and I freaked because this was someone from TV, which might sound a bit sad but seeing people from TV isn’t a thing that happens.

It got really awkward though because we somehow got wedged between the ensuing interview Tim was conducting and the nearby wall. We couldn’t move and the interview was a metre away. The interview wasn’t very good as the people he interviewed had no idea who the characters of the show were which confused me. Why are you here if the show doesn’t matter that much to you?

After the incident which was the weird interview, the first actors of the show started turning up. The first person from Nowhere Boys to arrive was Daniel Di Giovanni (Vince, Sam’s brother). Then we saw Joel. That was exciting. There’s a Nowhere Boy right there about 30 metres away from us. Then everyone started to pile into this corridor in what felt like the next five minutes.

It was like a school hallway but with a little more breathing room, somehow. Us fans all slowly shuffled to the cast in a surprisingly, orderly fashion, even if it did look chaotic. Then NN and I got to the front of the crowd. I let NN go first as my anxiety started to play up, but then it was my turn and they looked to me. I wanted to meet all of them but at that moment my eyes were only for Matt. I asked him for a hug and he obliged. I got my photos with Matt, Joel and Rahart (Sam), and then we moved to the next group which was Dougie and Sean (Oscar).

It was a lot less crowded for the onscreen brothers which surprised me as I always thought, and still believe, that Felix was the most popular. Because there wasn’t anyone around, NN talked to Dougie about fashion and I talked to Sean about ‘Kath and Kim’ and it was very surreal for both of us. We then got our items signed (NN’s DVD and my book) and moved on back to the previous three as Dougie and Sean moved on too.

We chatted a little bit, Rahart especially as he seemed the most calm and collected. I know he’s doing, and has done, pretty well for himself so meeting fans must be second nature to him now. I told them about my 2015 and thanked them for just being them, inadvertently helping me in the process. I gave Rahart the letter I had written and he said he would read it, but I don’t believe he got to it which I completely understand. The day was hectic for me so I can’t imagine what it was like for him and the others.

Then it was time to go upstairs and watch the movie. I tripped up the stairs twice but luckily didn’t fall flat on my face. It would have been memorable but not for a good reason. I had trouble finding two seats next to each other in the theatre but I managed to find one eventually. Before the movie aired the creators and the cast spoke for a bit, and they were so funny and nice.

Then we watched the movie. It was heartbreaking, funny, interesting, and all these emotions. It was goodbye to the original Nowhere Boys and so the happiness of what was happening around me mixed with sadness that it was goodbye.

After the movie we wandered around a bit, still soaking in the atmosphere but knowing this moment was about to end. We then got to meet Darci (Ellen) and she was very nice, and she was shorter than me. Somehow I met someone shorter than me. That was surprising.

We also got an interview after Michala Banas (Phoebe) which in hindsight was horrible. I spoke in clichés because I had no idea what to say and now I wish I would have said something a tiny bit insightful. It turned out that I didn’t have to worry though, as all those interviews are nowhere, no pun intended. I’ve searched for the cast interviews but I can’t find them, but I’m not too mad about that.

We said goodbye to the boys, congratulated them on the movie, and got hugs one last time. I was very worried that I pestered them. I genuinely tried not to. Of course this would have been incredibly overwhelming for them so I tried to keep that in mind. Side note though, Joel gave the best hug. He almost cracked my bones.

There was almost an awkward moment with Matt. He asked if we would see the movie in cinemas with our friends, and I was going to reply with ‘no, because the cinemas are too far away’, right after we told him we were from Sydney. Luckily NN had a plausible and legitimate answer to his question and a fangirl disaster was avoided. Thanks NN for swooping in.

As soon as we left the corridor and walked back into the street and reality, I fell from the high I was just on. I plummeted back to reality and became very home sick. I was fine when I got home. I was still sad it was over but mostly happy that I got this once in a lifetime experience. I still think about it almost every day and get teary because it truly was the best day of my life and I will never forget it.

I was left with one thought after all of this: Where does Nowhere Boys go from here? The Nowhere Boys had lost their powers and given up magic… but there’s a season three and a heavy implication at the end of Book of Shadows that others would have powers… so a new cast. This wasn’t confirmed yet but of course there would be a new cast. I knew people would be apprehensive about a new cast. The originals were and still are amazing. They were what we fans knew, and change usually isn’t welcome. I had hope though. I wouldn’t judge anything until I saw it.

The new cast was announced a few months later, and of course there were unhappy comments, but I had faith in them. I knew the show would not just shut out the past three years. There would be a legacy of some kind. I knew the creators would not let this show waste away by writing a rubbish story or hiring the wrong actors. It could work, people just needed faith.

Fast forward a few months to 11/11/16, a Friday. The new cast debuted and they were great. The episode and the ensuing storyline were intriguing and it just felt like Nowhere Boys. I knew there were different faces but it felt right. It didn’t feel like anything different, and I really appreciated the mentions of previous events and the cast throughout the series.

Luckily though, by the time Season 3 rolled around I had gotten a lot better physically and mentally. I still watched the show religiously but my obsession had calmed down, not a lot but a bit. I didn’t dedicate my life to the show anymore. It was more like a hobby, a branch of my life instead of the whole tree.

I did create more art like a talisman and some other designs. Some that even got noticed by the creators of the show which was awesome.

I had also been writing some more fanfiction at this time. I was intrigued with what happened between Season 2 and Book of Shadows, and there were little things I saw in the show that didn’t make sense. If I was going to write something then I wanted it to be accurate, but what if I couldn’t find the answers anywhere to the questions I had? Well, you ask the person who has the answers.

I went to Twitter and looked at Tony Ayres’ (creator) account. He replied to some fans of his shows and I knew that maybe I could get a reply too. I had a lot of questions but picked out the one I wanted answered the most.

I spent most of the day pacing around my house, my finger fumbling over the tweet button. Should I tweet him? I knew he was a busy man working on about 5 different shows so maybe he couldn’t reply to me right then, but I thought maybe he would. Weirder things have happened, so I tweeted him.

Then I get a notification a few hours later, he replied. I first asked him if I could ask him about Nowhere Boys and he said yes. I replied back with my question and he answered it. I was very grateful, but his answer led me to question more things, so I tweeted him again.

He didn’t reply to me after this though, and I don’t know why. Maybe he was busy and forgot, maybe he didn’t want to, maybe he got annoyed by me, maybe I had just rumbled a plothole that he couldn’t explain. I don’t know, but I don’t really care. I got two replies and that was cool. He isn’t owed to message me back and I certainly am not mad about it. I didn’t get to meet him at the Book of Shadows premiere so this made me happy.

As I have done before, I worried that the show had ended, but this time I believed I had reason to worry. Nowhere Boys should have been announced/aired at a certain time, like the rest of the seasons, but it hadn’t. It was about to be November 2017 and if we were getting a fourth season then it should have been airing this month… but it wasn’t.

Then it was confirmed in the middle of November that we were getting a Season 4, but it wasn’t all good news. The article I read was conflicting but was the first outlet to mention that Season 4 would be the last. I saw it coming, of course I did. I was waiting for this since Season 1 ended, but it didn’t make me feel better. Most times it feels good to be right, but not this time.

In January 2018, we got more news about Season 4 including confirmation that filming had begun. There was some added exciting news that came with this though. We were getting an original Nowhere Boy back. Some of my old habits came back too. I cried a little bit and then immediately went into investigation mode. I follow the cast on Insta and noticed that two were confirmed to be in Melbourne the time of filming of Season 4; Matt and Rahart. Who were we most likely to get back, what circumstances could I think of that would help me figure out which character could return? I was reading the comments on Insta and someone said Matt was the only original Nowhere Boy following the official account, but then Rahart started posting old photos of Nowhere Boys so… I just had to wait and see.

I also started editing the Nowhere Boys Wiki, but not too much. I saw that a lot of the characters’ biographies were, and still are, incomplete and thought that I could fill them in. I messed it up a little bit, but Mia’s is now almost complete, and I majorly messed up Nicco’s. I managed to somehow have gaps in all my writing and I panicked I’d ruined everything. Luckily I fixed it up the next day. There are still things that need to be changed but for the moment it’s good.

Not too long after the Wiki incident, we got our first trailer for Season 4. It was short and sweet and intriguing, but one part had people talking, a part I didn’t even take in. A man we didn’t see in the trailer spoke and only a few people figured who it was; Jake Riles. At first I didn’t believe it, but then I played the sound bite over and over. That was Jake Riles. Oh my God, it’s Jake. Jake is back! I even made my mum listen to the clip compared with another clip of Jake so she could confirm it. Then a week later we got the full trailer, and who did we see in it? Jake Riles. This was the best news. The trailer made him out to be a villain, however. It must be some trickery for us viewers. He can’t be a bad guy. No, I don’t believe it.

With this newest trailer we got the premiere date of Season 4, 3/12/18. I mapped out that Season 4 would end in February. I would have plenty of time to come to terms with the episodes, make a few theories, and accept the end of this show, but then I couldn’t. I read an article informing me that episodes would air consecutively every day, the day before the premiere. I wouldn’t be saying goodbye in two months but two weeks. I was happy that I would be able to watch an episode a day but I knew those two weeks were going to go by so fast.

It’s still very strange though, even when I’m writing this, the show ending and me. The show returned when I thought it wouldn’t and now it’s confirmed as the final season I can’t believe it. That’s really dumb of me.

I’ve enjoyed Season 4 but I don’t know if I’ve enjoyed it to the full extent. I haven’t had a whole week to mull over each episode, everything felt like it’s happening so quickly, this was the last season and I’ll never experience first viewing jitters again.

There were many things we did get that I enjoyed. We got to see Hicco/Neath become a real couple, Ben redeem himself from the previous season, we got a cool new character with Zeb, we had more LGBT+ inclusion (even if we didn’t get the Darius/Jesse kiss. Not going to lie, disappointed we didn’t see it), Ellen still being a badass and with Mr Bates as the only characters/actors to have done every single Nowhere Boys chapter, and we got Jake back (I know it wasn’t the real universe Jake who we watched for years, but he was virtually the same.)

So today is the 15/12/18, a Saturday, and the last episode of Nowhere Boys just aired. It’s over. That episode was epic. Seeing all the worlds come back, the guardian being activated, the first spell of the show being it’s last... there was a lot to smile about. I do have a lot of questions however, but this isn’t the place to ask them. I’m incredibly sad but I’m okay. 

Well, it’s not completely over I guess. I can still watch the reruns, there are plenty of Wiki pages to be edited, there are plenty of gifs to be made and posted on here, more art can be made… It’s just the show that’s finished…

This show is the best. It’s got great storylines, great characters, cool visual effects (I know they’re not Hollywood standard but of course they wouldn’t be). It’s diverse with race, sexuality, gender, disabilities. It’s not afraid to talk about things that are serious like bad injuries or someone coming out and telling the world who they are. It’s not afraid to show the realism of bullying in school, or the effect of a troubled home life on a child. It’s won countless awards for different aspects of the show (music score, directing, etc). It even had a tie-in video game for the first season which does answer some unanswered questions from the show (the Roland conundrum).

I would like to write every name of every single person who has contributed to this show but I know I would miss people out so I’m not going to do that, but I still want to thank them.

Thank you to the creators of the show, to the cast, to camera crew, the producers and the directors. Thank you to the designers, the makeup and hair artists, the music composers, editors, and the VFX crew. Thank you to the accountants, camera operators/grips, electricians, safety supervisors and stunt coordinators. Thank you to the nurses, the tutors that made sure the young cast got an education, the sound crew, the location crew and the people who allowed the show to be filmed on their property including the traditional owners of the land. Thank you to the art department and costume department, the casting officials, the drama coaches, the catering crew, and everyone involved with legal. Thank you to the companies that helped produce and develop the show, companies who helped fund the show, and the companies that distributed the show all over the world. Thank you to the people who helped in the most minor way and who weren’t credited. Thank you to every other fan who watched the show and helped it stay on air for over five years. Thank you to everyone else I’ve forgotten.

Thank you Nowhere Boys.

Survey #408

“tied to the rat race  /  a big bird in a small cage”

Who, whether a person or company, emails you the most? I really don't check my email enough to even know. If you were given an assignment to draw anything besides stick figures or just doodles, what would you draw? A meerkat of course, ha ha. Do you play the games on MySpace/Facebook? I never did. Well no, I did play "Dragons of Atlantis" when Facebook bought it or whatever, but now that it's a mobile game, I don't play anything on there. When was the last time you were sunburnt? Ha, actually now. It's from riding an hour to and an hour back from the TMS office every weekday; the sun coming in through the window got my arm. Who all do you live with? My mom and my two pets. Has a guy ever let you wear his jacket? Yeah. It was so comforting when Jason gave me his leather jacket to wear if I was cold; it was pretty big on me at that time and just really cozy. Thanks survey, now I feel like crying. :^) How many friends do you have of the opposite sex? Like, one. Do you have bird feeders hanging up outside? What about any hanging plants? No. Does your house have sliding glass doors? No. Was the last food item you ate part of a meal or a snack? A snack. What color is your hair brush? I don't use a brush, but a white comb. Would you rather it be sunny or rainy? I think I prefer sunny for the sake of helping keep my depression at bay, but sometimes I really do enjoy some nice steady rainfall at the window. Who’s the last person that you hugged, not family? I have no idea. What will your next piercing be? Probably getting my nostril re-pierced. How many people have you kissed, that you can HONESTLY say you loved? Two. Can you recall the last time you liked someone a lot? uhhhhhhhhhh now What’s scarier: spiders or worms? Worms gross me out, but a spider is more likely to actually scare me, but at the same time fascinate me. Do you play poker for real money? No. If you were pregnant, how long would you wait to tell the dad? I'd tell him immediately. Would you ever date out of your own race? I have in the past, and I would again. Do you still watch movies intended for children? Yeah. Hell, more than half the time they're better than "grown up" movies. What’s your favorite movie trilogy? Uhhhh does TLK count? ha ha What would you like to take lessons in? German. Whose Facebook password do you have? Just my own. Have you ever been suspended or expelled from school? No. Have you ever crawled through a window? Yes. Are you too forgiving? Yuuuup. Ever have a sleepover with the opposite sex? Well, we were dating. Have you ever gotten someone suspended? No. Have you ever wanted to be a teacher? No. Would you live with someone without marrying them? Yes; I believe you really probably should before getting married so you see if you "fit" as far as household habits and such go. Have you ever wanted to strip naked in front of someone? Yeah no. I'd feel way too awkward. What are you listening to? A John Wolfe video. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? My mom. Did anyone watch you the last time you kissed someone? I mean possibly, it was a public place, and some people are definitely caught off-guard by seeing two girls kiss. Do either of your parents have any tattoos or piercings? No. Mom wants a tattoo, though, dedicated to all of us kids and her grandkids. Are you desperate for anyone’s approval, in particular? -_- Would you ever stalk a celebrity? Um, no???? You don't stalk ANYBODY. It's a violation of space, privacy, basic respect... Do you have any National Geographic magazines lying around? No. Have you ever been mistaken for the opposite gender? No. Do you use liquid foundation, mousse, or just powder? None. Have you ever picked out a song to listen to on a juke box? Maybe? I don't remember. Have you ever eaten 3 meals from 3 different fast food places in one day? Oh god, I hope not. I don't remember ever having done that. Have you ever ridden in a limo? No. I always wanted to as a kid. Have you ever tried to put a huge puzzle together? Yeah, I have. I used to like to do that with my mom especially. Ever wake up early on Saturdays to go garage sale shopping? Yes, actually. My family used to love to do that. Do you keep magazines by your toilet? No. Ya better just bring your phone. What did you last take a picture of with your camera? On my actual camera, a hydrangea bush. On the camera on my phone, I believe my cat. Are you proud of who you are? Not... really. If you were a waiter/waitress, would you make good tips? Nope. I'm too awkward and I would NEVER write the orders down quickly enough. I write so slow. What are the best kind of Girl Scout cookies? The chocolate and peanut butter ones. If you hit an animal while driving, would you stop to see if it was okay? Well I doubt it's okay, but I would absolutely stop to move it away from the road and sob my eyes out. I'd probably try to find some flowers to rest on it. What's your favorite kind of pasta? Spaghetti. Have you ever played computer solitaire for hours on end? I don't even know how to play solitaire. What's the dumbest thing you've heard of that supposedly causes cancer? Who the hell knows, everything does apparently. If you saw wet cement, would you place your handprint in it? No. Can you honestly tell the difference between DiGiorno and delivery pizza? Absolutely. Do you own a lava lamp? No, but I would looove one. What charity or cause would you donate $1,000 to if possible? Off the top of my head, the Trevor Project. I'd probably research before actually donating, though. What would you say is your greatest strength? I guess that I care a lot about people. What's one food that you find too disgusting to eat? Things like clams, es cargot, sashimi... just ew. What's something that will never bore you? Uhhhh good question. Pizza Hut or Domino's? Domino's, by a long shot. What's something that always, no matter what, makes you laugh? Stupid Vines, lol. Have you ever been in a canoe? No. How many vehicles does your family own? Just one, my mom's. Are you generally afraid of taking risks? Yes. Have you ever caught/swatted a fly in/with your hand? Ew, no. Would you ever dye your hair bubblegum pink? Yeah. What was the last thing to happen that you really weren't expecting? The woman whose wedding I shot TWO YEARS ago finally reaching out to me about buying some pictures. What does it mean when you start eating less? What does it mean when you start eating more? If I'm eating less, odds are I'm extremely serious about losing weight. If I'm eating more than usual, high odds are I'm depressed or bored. Or I'm on my period. What’s the strangest named pet you’ve ever had? Harry Potter, ha ha. He was a guinea pig. What are some defense mechanisms you find yourself using when in an argument with someone? I'm very likely to just metaphorically flee from it because I fear confrontation so much. Do you know if there is anyone who was once important to you that you will never talk to again, even though you could? If I have any say in it, I'm never talking to Colleen again. List the initials of every person you have ever kissed, from first kiss to most recent kiss. (Put “?”s in the place of initials you don’t know.) I'm not listing their last initial, but anyway: J, T, G, S. Does your face break out right before your period? Not "break out," no. I'll just get a pimple or two. What did you dream about last night? All I remember was that it focused on Jason and his late mother. I miss her so much. I hope so much that whatever exists beyond death, she found the peace she was so worthy of. Do you think the United States health care system needs reform? FUCK yes I do. Our health care system is a disgusting fucking nightmare. Who was the last person you cried over? Jason. My PTSD has been doing quite well, but I had an emotional episode recently nonetheless. Do you prefer ceiling fans or fans that stand up on the floor and you plug in? I use both, but I think my preference is ceiling ones. What would you do if your son was at home, crying all alone on the bedroom floor because he’s hungry, and the only way to feed him was to sleep with a man for a little bit of money? Hypothetically, if I had a child, if I'm totally honest, I probably would. I would hate it, but I'm not letting my child starve to death if I can do something about it. Why do you think evolution is true/false? Because there is substantial evidence for it and imo is the most logical theory we've thought up. Some things about it seem kinda far-fetched, but I still have faith in it. I trust scientists and the evolution we see firsthand, such as caterpillars to cocoons, tadpoles to frogs, etc. Who came through for you at a time when you really, really needed it? Colleen. She let me live with her when I was technically homeless. What turned out better than you thought? Good question. What object did you used to, or do you still, keep hidden? My drawings. I've flipped my shit when Mom's found them in the past, even though she went on and on about how "amazing" they were. I don't draw anything "bad" at all, but still, I don't like people seeing my creativity. Who can’t you figure out? My damn self. What are you hoping for? The most recent thing would be hoping Shonda buys a lot, if not all, the wedding photos I took. I desperately want to use the money along with what I have left from Christmas to buy Venus' terrarium and proper supplies all by myself. What’s the best physical object that you kept from a previous relationship? Idk, there's a few things. What is the most socially unacceptable thing that you have no problem with? Maybe women not shaving. Like I couldn't care less. What have you done that you surprised yourself by doing? *shrug* What used to be a secret about you? Hm. Anything that used to be a secret probably still is one. What is the most stalky thing you’ve ever done? Just Facebook digging, and that's not something I've done a lot off. What did you wind up liking that you didn’t want anything to do with at first? The only thing that comes to mind at the moment is something sexual, so let's not go into that. Who do you owe your life that you can never pay back? Mom and Jason have both saved me from what would've been suicide attempts.

MSA +1: Ghost Aftermath

“The house is disappearing,” announced Sydney, staring out the back window.  “I guess the ghost made it out of ghost energy.  Or something.”  That was a powerful ghost.  “We should be safe for now.”

“I’m not stopping until we get to town,” said Arthur.  That was too close.  They were almost killed!

Vivi frowned. “Will the van be all right?  He might’ve fried a component or something.”

“Um…”  Arthur thought a moment.  “Well, it started fine.  It’s not making any troubling sounds.  Might have messed with some of the electrical components, but this is an older van, so they won’t have much impact on its function once it’s up and running.  So, yeah, we should get home all right, and I’ll run diagnostics on it tomorrow when I have some free time.”

Mystery let out a whine.  He knew that Lewis had not been in a right state of mind and had been dangerous to be around, but it hurt to leave him behind again.

Vivi misunderstood and pulled him into her lap.  “It’s okay Mystery.  We’ll be home and away from any spooks soon.”

Mystery laid his head on her shoulder, wishing he could tell her what was wrong, but she was still suffering from whatever Lewis had done to her memory…

Maybe he could go back later, try to talk to Lewis on his own, get him to see reason.

Sydney leaned over the chairs.  “Any idea what that was about?  I’m kind of confused about the whole thing.  Guy put me in the attic which was full of boxes that just had more boxes in them. And what I swear was a copy of the bride from the Haunted Mansion from Disney World.  I looked in a few rooms while I was looking for you, but they were empty except for one that had a bed in it, but it didn’t feel like a bedroom if that makes sense.”

“He wouldn’t have needed a bedroom,” muttered Vivi.  “He wouldn’t have needed actual food either, but he had some in the kitchen.” She frowned.  “Did he plan this?  Or maybe keep some food for if someone came by?”

“Why would he feed someone he was going to kill?” asked Arthur.

“Maybe it was poisoned!” suggested Sydney.

Vivi felt nauseous for a moment.  “That’s certainly a possibility…”

“Oh, geez, you didn’t eat any, did you?” asked Sydney.

Arthur spun towards Vivi, nearly driving off the road.  “Vivi!”

“I didn’t eat anything!” insisted Vivi, deciding not to mention she almost had.  “Why would he need poison though?  He had really powerful fire abilities and clearly wasn’t afraid to use them.”

Arthur shuddered and Sydney scowled at the memory.  “He said it was me he hated the most,” said Arthur.

“Seriously?” Sydney asked in exasperation.  “What could you have possibly done?”

“I…”  He glanced towards Vivi.  “Maybe he was one of the guys from when I escaped the cult? Except that wouldn’t make sense.  It’s been over 10 years, and they wouldn’t have announced themselves like that.  They would have just given me a fatal injury before I realized they were there.”

“That does make sense,” agreed Vivi.  She’d seen how Arthur fought.  She hadn’t been at all surprised when her father had taken him on as an apprentice. “Plus aren’t they supposed to eschew material things, like fancy suits?”

Arthur nodded.  “Yeah, simple clothes, preferably homemade. Nothing like…that.”

Sydney snorted. “He was like Ghost Rider’s better dressed cousin.  Hey, you think that was the suit he was buried in?”

“If it is, then that kills the cult theory,” said Arthur.  “They used shrouds.  Always. No exceptions.”

Vivi hummed in thought for a moment.  “Maybe he’s someone we’ve run across before who died later on?”

“We have pissed off a lot of people,” commented Sydney. She winced.  “Wow, there could be a lot of potential angry ghosts out there. Heck, considering what some of ‘em were like, they’d probably kill themselves to try and become a vengeful ghost.”

“That’s so stupid!” exclaimed Arthur.

“It might not seem so stupid to them,” pointed out Vivi.  “And if they could pull off a ritual…”

“Where would they get that sort of stuff in jail?” muttered Sydney.  “I know there’s a black market for like cigarettes and period pads, but where would they get something like aconite or yew bark?  I mean some of that stuff’s dangerous even outside of magic. It’d be easier to break out of prison, but then they wouldn’t have to kill themselves to get back at us!  Or maybe they would.  Arthur kind of leaves an impression.  I wouldn’t wanna fight him.  I’d try to find some other way around him,” rambled Sydney.  “But that would be hard cause supernatural stuff would be attracted to him, but I guess that’s not bad because he can’t actually see that stuff or do anything about that.”  She frowned.  “Hey, why didn’t that ghost back there stay invisible then?  He could’ve snuck up on Arthur and set him on fire and that would be that.”

“And now I’m going to see that in my nightmares tonight,” drawled Arthur.  “Thanks.”

Sydney’s eye widened. “Oh geez, I didn’t mean-Ignore everything I just said!”

Vivi shook her head. “No, you bring up some good points. I’m starting to think the second theory is pretty unlikely.  I’ll still look up if anyone we’ve helped arrest has passed away recently, but I’d like to consider other possibilities as well.”  She frowned in thought as she considered a new train of thought.  “Arthur, what if he’s someone you knew but who died when you were so young you can’t remember him?”

“That…I guess it could be possible,” admitted Arthur.  “But I still don’t know why he would want me dead.  And what could a three-year-old have done to convince someone they need to die?”

“Pooped on his books,” suggested Sydney.

“Ew…No.”

“Ate his pudding?”

“That seems a bit much.”

“Stole his cat?”

“We never had any pets.”

“Spilled spaghetti sauce on his favorite white shirt?”

“Where are you getting these things?” questioned Arthur.

Vivi chuckled at them as she tapped her leg in thought.  Something occurred to her.  “Did he ever actually say your name?”  Arthur shook his head.  “Lance says you look a lot like your dad…”

Arthur winced. “Ah.  That would make sense.  Uncle Lance and Dad come from old money so a fancy suit and tie would not be out of place.” Arthur considered the options for a moment.  “Maybe he was someone with a relative in the cult.”

“Huh, I didn’t think the suit looked that old,” commented Sydney.  She frowned.  “But have suits changed that much?  And who wears a cravat nowadays anyway?”

“What’s a cravat?” asked Arthur.

“It’s like a fancy tie, bunch of cloth,” Sydney tried to explain.  “Some characters I know wear ‘em, usually guys with money or class or both.”

“That fits,” said Vivi.  “We can ask Lance if your dad ever pissed off someone enough for them to want him dead.”

“He wouldn’t know if it had something to do with the cult, but it’s a good place to start,” agreed Arthur.

Sydney made a considering sound.  “You know…This makes a lot more sense.  That ghost was pretty powerful.  He would have had to have been dead for a while, right?”

Vivi nodded.  “Generally speaking, it takes a while for a ghost to become that powerful, and we’ve only been doing this for a few years.  He must have died before that if he’s at that power level, unless he used some sort of ritual.”

Mystery sighed. That was the case with most ghosts, but Lewis was a huge exception.  He suspected a combination of a sudden and violent death, Lewis’ own powers, and the location.  It was steeped in spiritual energy that he suspected had belonged to the demon.  Energy the demon had been cut off from when Mystery sealed it in Arthur’s arm.  He had noticed that the coloration of the cave had been darkening when they’d left, but had thought the energy was simply dispersing.

Lewis must have instinctively absorbed the energy and sped up his formation and development without realizing it.

And he’d come back as a vengeful wraith.  Clearly, he thought Arthur had been fully responsible for his death.  An understandable mistake, but Mystery couldn’t help but feel annoyed at Lewis.  He had been a medium in life.  He’d seen possessions.  He knew Arthur attracted nasty entities.  He still thought Arthur killed him even knowing all those facts.  The only explanation Mystery could come up with was that Lewis was not able to think straight due to becoming so powerful so quickly after losing his brain.

Mystery wasn’t sure this could be fixed.  There were purification rituals…No, that would require Lewis being willing to let go of his anger.  Mystery would just have to make sure Sydney and Arthur stayed close to each other for the foreseeable future.  At least until he found a way to calm Lewis which didn’t require Arthur being killed.

Mystery was brought out of his thoughts by Sydney picking him up.  He let out a yelp.  “Don’t worry Mystery.  We won’t let that big, mean ghost hurt you.”

He was the last person Sydney needed to worry about.