#everyone here is ruining thistle's day | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rotworld · 7 months

Text

6: Ruins

(previous)

the kind stranger from the diner lets you stay the night and introduces you to his husband.

->sexually explicit. contains mild gore, mentions of hard vore, mystery meat, voyeurism/exhibitionism, implied pheromones, ambiguous consent, mentions of breeding, mild feral behavior.

Glenn does not hop into his car and lead you to his place. He gives you instructions—vague and contradictory, “you’ll know it when you see it,” with a knowing wink and a kiss to the cheek—and says he’ll meet you there. He does this because you’re in Verlinda, and he’s a local.

Verlinda is further north, of course. Looking at your map, it’s nearly in the top left corner of the page. Some would call it the “city center” or “capital” if they used such terms, home of the Stag. But Verlinda is also the sea of green on the other side of a highway guardrail, the underbrush and turning leaves. Verlinda is every dried up factory town when the conveyor belt stops running. Verlinda is every cornfield when the last farmer dies. Verlinda is every dead mall and empty church, every old house with a coat of climbing vines. Verlinda is everything, everywhere, eventually.

“Sleepy?” the girl asks. She holds her takeout box of syrupy pancakes protectively on her lap.

“Yeah,” you admit. “Long day.”

You see her nod solemnly in the rearview mirror. She gazes wide-eyed into the distance; looking west. “Home,” she says quietly. “Will home…want me?”

“Of course they will,” you assure her. She meets your gaze in the mirror, frowning. Not sure if she believes you. “It’s something we all worry about,” you tell her. “But I know you’ll do fine. My friend, who has eyes just like yours? He still lives there. He makes sure everyone has what they need and no one feels left out.” You glance northeast. The pull is a dull ache in your chest, the bitter sting of loneliness. “Your home will want you. I know that,” you say quietly. “You’re very lucky.”

[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: HOW DO BY SNEAKER PIMPS]

This town has been Verlinda for a long time. Cracked concrete gives way to gravel and paved dirt. Main street is a ghost town, gaping windows and leaf-strangled streetlights. An old sawmill buckles beneath the weight of the forest growing up around it, shrubs growing on the roof. Some things are preserved and repurposed. Tourist destinations like the diner have carefully maintained exteriors, the wild trimmed back but not fully tamed.

By the time you stumble upon the cluster of old, overgrown cottages and mossy cabins Glenn told you to look for, it’s nightfall. The shapes that dart at the very corners of your headlights look animal, antlered and bushy-tailed and cloven hooved, but you never get a clear look. You drive very, very slowly, just in case something should wander into the road in front of you.

Deep in the woods, fenced in by evergreens and cradled by tendrils of ivy, you find the place. Glenn is standing out in front, having beat you here despite the distance. Three excitable children sprint after each other across the yard, yelping and laughing. All four of them turn at the sound of your car approaching, eyes eerily aglow as your headlights pass over them. The house is dark inside, weeds and thistles growing up to the windows.

Glenn walks over and you roll your window down. “Where do you want me to park?” you ask.

“You’re fine where you’re at,” he says. You’ve barely pulled out your keys before he opens your door and the girl’s behind you. “Anything you need carried in?”

“I’m good, I travel light.”

The children are triplets, looking remarkably like one another and Glenn, all redhead boys with bushy curls and sharp-toothed smiles. “Dad!” they shout, practically trampling each other to be the first to inspect you. They wave at the girl but only stare at you. “Dad,” one says, pointing at you, “is this dinner?”

Glenn laughs heartily and ruffles his son’s hair. “Dinner’s cooking, isn’t it? These are both guests,” he stresses the word, his tone slightly scolding. “Don’t you remember what I said about couriers?”

“That there’s…not a lot?” the boy asks.

One of his brothers pipes up, “Not enough to hunt. Population’s too low.”

“Exactly right.” Glenn starts herding them to the front door, gesturing over his shoulder for you to follow. You hesitate. It’s your first time inside a Verlindan den, but you were explicitly invited. You take a deep breath. The girl looks nervous but she follows you inside.

It’s pitch black inside. There’s an earthy smell, soil and forest, and the faint coppery odor of blood. You hold out a hand in search of a guiding surface, a wall, furniture, something to get your bearings. There’s the hissing scratch of a match being struck and you see Glenn ahead, lighting candles. Slowly, the dark melts away. You’ve walked into a cozy living room. Most the furniture is wood; an antique dish cabinet, a pair of bookshelves, a long table in front of the fireplace. No couch and no chairs, you notice, just a series of rugs, blankets and pillows strewn across the floor. No light fixtures either. You suspect there’s no electricity.

There’s a muted thunk in the next room. The clatter of a cutting board and the slippery sounds of meat.

“C’mon in, make yourself at home. Set your bag down wherever,” Glenn says. He fusses with the blankets self-consciously, pushing them into more nest-like piles and fluffing the pillows. You see one of his kids pick something up off the floor and trot over to the girl.

“This is my pillow,” he says shyly, “but you can use it if you want. It’s really soft.” The girl watches him carefully, primary eyes narrowing. “Look, it’s got you on it!” He turns it around, showing her the little butterflies embroidered on the end of the pillowcase. The girl takes it from him very carefully, touching the black and orange threads of the butterfly’s wings.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Glenn gives you a brief tour, guiding you around with a hand on your lower back. “Bathroom’s over there,” Glenn he says. “Ah, remind me to light a candle in there. Guestroom is upstairs but you can sleep wherever, just let me know if you need more blankets, pillows, anything like that. We’ll be down in the burrow. There’s room if you’d like to join us but it’s no problem if you like your space. Kitchen’s right over here but, ah…”

There’s another hard, meaty thunk. Glenn steers you back towards the living room. The triplets have coaxed the girl into laying on the floor with them, paper and colored pencils scattered around. They draw triangular trees, squiggling rivers, and eerie-looking deer with strange antlers. The girl draws home. She gives the smiling people more details; more eyes and more legs. The house with a chimney is at the top of a hill.

“That’s Albie,” Glenn says quietly, gesturing to the boy who gave up his pillow. “And that’s Archie and Arden.” He watches them with proud eyes and a sad smile. “Their mother passed a few years ago. Killed on the road. She’s buried under the willow out back.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” you say.

“We’re alright now. We’ve had time, closure. The Stag made it right.” He pauses, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. “You know about that, don’t you?” he asks, lowering his voice further. There’s a threat lurking in the words. “You know the law of Verlinda. You’ve never hit anybody, have you?”

You swallow hard. “Never. I swear.” Courier training is minimal. As long as you have a driver’s license and a pulse, anyone can risk their life on the road. Nobody bothers to teach you much or tell you about local customs. This is the one thing they tell you before your very first delivery, a precaution learned from decades of mistakes and misadventure: the law of Verlinda is vengeance. If you see an animal on the road, you let it pass first. If you hit one, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.

“Aw, I’m just teasing you, courier. You’re a good sort.” Glenn chuckles and squeezes your shoulder. “I’d have known if you’d hit somebody. Wouldn’t need to ask.”

He turns his attention to the kids lying in a circle, showing off their drawings. Arden has doodled what looks like a pickup truck lying on its side, billowing smoke. The figure beside it is shadowy scribbles, hunched and satyr-like, twisting horns and bloodied claws. “Papa’s awesome!” he tells the girl. “He’s really strong and fast and he knows how to fix the holes in my socks and make big blankets from a bunch of little squares.”

You hear a sharp crack and something peeling apart in the kitchen. Water runs in the sink. Slow, heavy footsteps draw closer and an enormous figure saunters out of the dark. “Glenn,” you hear, a low, gravelly rumble.

“Hall,” Glenn says, grinning. The man looming at the entrance to the kitchen is much larger than Glenn, taller as well as wider, towering over both of you. Biceps bulge beneath his tight, short sleeves but he’s soft and pudgy around the middle. His hair is long, a loose braid dangling nearly halfway down his back, neatly shaved stubble dotting his chin.

He’s wearing an apron that’s spattered, top to bottom, in blood.

“Papa, Dad brought guests,” Archie says, using the same careful enunciation his father did earlier. “That one, too.” He points you out specifically. “That’s a courier. So no eating them.”

“I’ll try to keep it in mind,” Halvard rumbles. That’s a joke, you think. You hope it’s a joke. Halvard walks over to shake your hand and you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. “Call me Hall. Glenn says you’re staying the night.”

“If that’s okay,” you say carefully.

“Fine by me. Boys, why don’t you and the little miss play outside? I’ll call you back when dinner’s ready.”

“But we just came back inside,” Arden says.

“C’mon,” Archie grumbles, getting to his feet. “They’re gonna talk about grown up stuff and don’t want us to hear.”

“Don’t go far,” Glenn warns. “And don’t go too fast. She can’t see in the dark as well as you can.”

“We know, Dad,” Albie says. He holds out his hand and the girl hesitates, glancing at you first. When you smile and nod, she gingerly takes Albie’s hand. He’s a little too excited and practically yanks her out the door with him, but you think you hear her giggling. The door slams shut and the children’s voices fade.

“They’re good kids,” you say. “Nicer than some humans have been to her.”

Glenn clicks his tongue. “Not saying much, I think. But I’m glad to hear it.” He wanders over to the fireplace and lights a pile of twigs inside, fanning the fire until it spreads to the larger logs underneath.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Halvard says, gone before you can decline.

Glenn beckons you over to the fireplace and tugs you down onto the rug beside him. He’s piling blankets around you and on top of your lap, and you have the briefest flash of panic at how heavy they are, how easily he could lean in and tear your throat out and you’d be too slow to stop him. “So,” he says. “Tell us about yourself.”

You shrug. You’re not really sure what to say. “I’m a courier, but you knew that already.”

“Child of the road, too.” His eyes are brown but they look gold in the firelight, fixed intently on you. “Where’s home?”

“I’ve never been there.”

“Hm. That’s a shame.” He scoots a little closer, burrowing his hand into the blankets until he finds your thigh. His palm strokes up and down your leg gently. “I ask because I’m curious. Sometimes we have a sense for it and sometimes we don’t. You’re closer kin to me than the little one is, but it’s hard to tell. You’re…” He pauses. You hear him sniff the air. “You’re hiding it, aren’t you? Not letting it show.”

“Glenn,” Halvard growls. He comes back with a large mug, something burnt gold and honey-sweet sloshing around inside as he sets it on the table. “You’re being rude.” His apron’s gone. You push back from the table, intending to move so he can sit next to his husband. He keeps you still with one large hand on your shoulder and sinks down on your other side. Between their bodies, the blankets and the fire at your back, you’re almost too warm, but the air is getting colder as the night goes on.

“Sorry,” Glenn says sheepishly. “I know, that’s personal. I’m nosy is all. Maybe a little protective. Predator eats prey, and we eat predators. You smell like something I’d eat twice over.” His hand inches up your thigh, giving the lightest teasing stroke between your legs. “You got some sharp teeth, sweetpea, if only you’d let ‘em grow out.” You let out a gasp when he leans in further, nipping your ear, grinding his palm against your clothed sex. You can feel Halvard’s chuckle through his chest, warm and solid against your back.

“You asked ‘em first, I hope,” he murmurs, reaching around you for the mug on the table.

“Mm, I’m thinking we’re on the same page. But sure, I’ll ask.” Glenn catches your chin and pulls you into a hungry kiss, all tongue and teeth. He nips at your lip and coaxes you into opening your mouth wider, letting him in deeper. You gasp into the kiss when the hand between your legs gropes shamelessly, cupping you through your clothes. A string of saliva connects you when he pulls away. “How about it, sweetpea?” he says, stroking your cheek. “You wanna turn around, let me mount that sweet ass of yours?”

You glance back at Halvard, just to be sure. He’s smiling lazily, eyes roaming your body while he takes a long gulp from the mug. His other hand slips into his sweatpants, palming a thick, twitching shape under the fabric. “Fair warning,” he rumbles. “He’s gonna wear you out.”

Glenn smiles coyly, sliding his hand back down your leg. “Yeah, maybe,” he purrs. “But you’ll like it, I promise.” He grabs your ankle and pulls, sending you sprawling on the floor. You’re flipped over in a sudden, dizzying motion, climbing to your knees before a hand—sharper than you remember, the ends tipped with claws—grips the back of your neck and shoves your face into the rug. Glenn’s face nuzzles your nape and you hear him inhale deeply, pressing his tongue against your skin. “You smell like you’re in season,” he groans, scraping his teeth against your neck.

You manage to get your head turned just far enough to look up and see Halvard in front of you and shiver. His gaze is smoldering. He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, pants around his hips, hand on his cock. It’s as big as the rest of him; round head, thick, bulging shaft, balls dangling fat and heavy beneath. He strokes himself from base to tip and you realize he’s still not fully hard.

You don’t know what comes over you but looking at it makes your mouth water. “You’re just gonna watch?” you say.

You hear Glenn cackle behind you. He’s not undressing you fully, just tugging your pants out of the way and leaving them bunched up around your knees like a makeshift restraint. You think they look at each other—Halvard glances somewhere above you and his smile widens. “You say that like I’m not looking at the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells you. “Yeah, I’m good with watching. You’re giving me a break.”

You hear a belt unbuckle, clothes shucked to the floor. Glenn’s warm, naked body drapes across your back. He hikes your hips a little higher and kisses down your spine. His cock is hard and dribbling precum when he thrusts between your thighs, grinding his length against your sex in fast, rocking thrusts. “Gimme a drink, babe.”

“Don’t spill it,” Halvard warns. He takes another gulp from the mug and then leans over you, his hand on the back of your head. You hear them kissing, licking and sucking at each other, while Halvard rakes his fingers over your scalp and Glenn fucks your thighs faster. Halvard’s cock is nearly in your face, bobbing against his stomach. He’s almost fully hard now and you have the sudden urge to take him into your mouth.

You never get the chance. They pull apart with a gasp and you hear what must be a growl from Halvard, low and feral. He settles back down in front of you, setting the mug aside. He’s watching intently, pumping himself in slow strokes. Glenn knocks your legs apart with his knee and he’s breaching you without warning, short, quick thrusts that get a little deeper each time. “Oh shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re tight!” You feel him adjusting, shifting hips higher. Mounting you, just like he said he would. He’s moving fast and panting like he’s on the verge of cumming already.

And then he does. You freeze in shock when Glenn lets out a stammered moan, spilling inside you. It’s not much, just a small spurt, but you feel his balls draw up and his length pulse and twitch. He nuzzles his face against your shoulder and laughs breathlessly. Then he starts pounding into you again. You gasp and twist up the blankets under your hands. You hear him panting and groaning, the obscene, fast-paced slaps of his hips against your ass.

“Baby, you didn’t warn them,” Halvard says, a lighthearted scolding he doesn’t mean. Glenn doesn’t answer. All of his attention and effort is solely on you, fucking you, breeding you, pistoning his hips and pounding the breath out of your lungs. “He’s gonna cum a lot, honey. Doesn’t mean he’s done. He won’t be done for a long, long time, so just try to bear with it.” He leans back, giving you a full view of his thumb teasing the tip of his cock. “You know the saying, right? ‘Fuck like rabbits?’”

Glenn is merciless. His hips don’t ever stop moving. They slow just a little when he comes, thrusts shaky and drawn out, but he starts right back up again and you feel like he gets faster. Your knees are going to be bruised or rugburned or maybe both after this, but right now, you don’t care. There’s just the heat and the friction, the squelch of cum foaming up around Glenn’s length, the slap-slap-slap of your bodies meeting.

Glenn slips a few times, pulls out too far and his cock glides wetly against your skin, still rock hard somehow. He whines and starts sinking his teeth into you, playful nips turning to frustrated, angry bites. You have to help him. He’s too clumsy, his hips too insistent. You hold yourself open and press back against him, guiding him back to your sloppy hole. As soon as he’s inside you again, he cums. You’re not sure you can hold yourself up anymore. Your body starts to sag and Glenn follows until you’re both prone. He hooks his feet on the inner side of your ankles and pulls your legs apart even further, keeping you spread open while he humps against your ass.

You’re starting to feel feverish, sweaty and overheated. You also don’t want to stop. Halvard’s hand speeds up and you feel his gaze burning into you both. “Maybe you should stay, courier,” he says. “Let my husband breed you every night after he’s done mounting me.”

Glenn cums again just from the idea. He lays his hands on top of yours and changes his angle, rotates his hips just right, and grinds against the spot that makes your toes curl. When he speeds up again, you nearly scream.

“Just think about it, alright? Think about how fucking good you could feel all the time.” His hand’s drenched in thick precum and he’s still leaking more, squeezing himself at the base. He strokes himself hard and just as fast as Glenn fucks you, matching the rhythm. “I could mount you, too,” he murmurs. “Or I could have you in my lap. Hold onto your hips and fuck you stupid. I know you could take it, honey.”

The fantasy sends him over the edge. He gets closer, grunting softly and muttering a curse as he pumps his tip right in front of your face. You squeeze your eyes shut as it happens. He lets out a low, rumbling groan and thick, sticky cum splatters on your cheeks and chin. There’s so much of it. Blood rushes between your legs thinking about what it’d be like with him on top of you instead, slamming into you, pinning you down with one strong hand, leaving you stuffed so full it’d leak out before he was done.

You cum with a whine and Glenn follows right after you. The sound he makes is absolutely feral. He fucks you through it and kisses your neck, hips snapping against yours. You’re beyond exhausted, peering up at Halvard for help. He chuckles fondly, rubbing some of his cum into your cheek with his thumb. “Hang in there, courier,” he says huskily. “I’m sure he’ll be done eventually.”

Glenn intercepts the kids at the door. You can hear their voices muffled through the ceiling; Archer bragging about a toad he caught and Arden insisting he just saw it from a distance, that it hopped away before they even got close. Albie says the girl got sick and you sit up hearing that. Glenn murmurs something and there’s a long pause.

“Aw, kit, that’s silk,” he says. “Was that the first time you’ve made it?” Another pause. “It’s nothing bad, but I bet it surprised you. Just means you’re feeling happy and safe.”

“Don’t even think about getting up,” Halvard says, gently pushing you back down. The burrow is a dark, cozy basement room, a sea of soft things so thick you can’t see the floor. He’s been fussing over you since Glenn finished rutting, whisking you off for a bath and giving you a fresh set of pajamas. His, you assume, because they’re far too big to be Glenn’s. The fabric is soft and slightly floral scented. “You’re going to feel it in the morning.”

“I feel it now,” you mutter.

Halvard settles in with you, pressing his fingers into the knotted muscles in your back. You melt into the touch and he makes a sound almost like a purr, kissing your shoulder. “Glenn told me you’re leaving bright and early. I’d try to tempt you to stay longer, but I know it’s urgent. But, honey, if you ever come back through here…” He turns you around, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, shutting your eyes. “I know where to find you.”

(next)

#rotpeach writes #goretober #the drift

41 notes · View notes

jules-and-company · 9 months

Text

starting a long post on tas so that that shit is wrapped

episode 4 : only the men being affected by the sirens ? (also everyone seeing women but bones only sees magnolias in blossom ?) then why the fuck do you send an all-male away mission party you absolute MORONS. and bones’s accent is definitely stronger when something’s messing up with his head (taking personal note of that for fic reasons). uhura and christine in charge ? YES. UHURA TAKING COMMAND ??? YASS GIRL. scotty is that you singing. in gaelic ??? 🥵 jesus.

episode 5 : it’s the tribble episode, so of course it’s a good episode. scotty’s absolutely haunted voice when he discovers the tribbles you know that man spent hours in engineering trying to get them off the engines. « tribbles in the ship, quadrotricitale in the corridors, klingons in the sector….it can ruin your day, sir ! » oh scotty my bud. i love that you’ve grown enough to take it one crazy-ass day at a time. they can’t really have the face expressions down but the voices are enough « we could still throw tribbles at them, sir. » « i thought vulcans didn’t have a sense of humour, mr spock » in That™️ voice. OH MY GOD THEY SENT THE TRIBBLES TO THE KLINGON SHIP AGAIN. koloth, in a really pained voice : « kirk…tribbles ? » jim, very grave, as if he just launched a nuclear bomb : « tribbles. ».

episode 6 : not another shapeshifter. i’m fucking tired of shapeshifters. ´hold on bones hasn’t been a bitch to you spock. there’s a big fucking problem then’. « you say i’m a man of curious habits, spock ? jim’s talking to a table. ». cat lady ? okay, i don’t know why i’m surprised. scotty gets attacked. « can you love this [tentacle alien], anne ? » clearly they haven’t heard about monsterfuckers. « will someone tell me what’s going on ? » me too scotty me too. « what manner of a beastie is that ? » ME TOO SCOTTY ME TOO. « if he had turned into a second spock, that would’ve been too much to take. » « but two mccoy, just might bring the level of medical efficiency on this ship up to acceptable levels » UNPROVOKED, SPOCK. UNCALLED FOR THAT LEVEL OF BITCHINESS.

episode 7 : sulu almost dying ???? thistle aliens ??? pterodactyls ??????? oh look, it’s an another self-proclaimed god fan of eugenics. FIVE METERS HIGH SPOCK ??? uhura, dear, scotty knows that he’s emptying the ship’s energy, he just doesn’t care anymore about what he’s gotta do to save these idiots. bamf sulu, we love to see it. what the fuck was that episode.

episode 8 : center of all creation ??? bones saying « jim ! what in the name of sanity is that ? » is on point. we outside time and space. omg life support is dead they're all dying. SATAN ??? spock turned into a child satyr and bones into a golden whirligig ??? THE ENTERPRISE EXPLODES ???? salem trial ??? ASMODEUS ??? aaand having a beer with satan. what the fuck was that

episode 9 : it the shore leave planet again ! and it's just bones uhura and sulu this time, and by god do they deserve a break. oh alice in wonderland again. and uhura singing, that's nice. oh- oh god. BONES PURSUED BY THE QUEEN OF HEARTS ??? the rotation bridge crew working their asses off to get them all back on board (hello cat lady). sentient computer causing mayhem again, how original. aw, bones worried for uhura.

SOMEBODY GET ME OUT OF HERE

NOT FUCKING PTERODACTYLS AGAIN PLEASE GOD LET ME GO. and a giant cat. what the fuck i'm so tired PLEASE. and a two-headed dragon, 'cause why the fuck not at this point. bones and sulu are gonna throw up from having to run for too long (i know the feeling). i think uhura just looked into the camera because she's just as tired of this bullshit as i am. also, the whole thing was just a misunderstanding with the sentient robot.

me : I’M TIRED OF THIS, GRANDPA

TAS : THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD ! *shows this*

episode 10 : the more i go into the series the more i wonder when will my suffering end. oh my god, mudd again ??? CHRISTINE DON’T LISTEN TO THAT PIECE OF SHIT. damn. dick really makes you do things huh. oh my god LEAVE SPOCK ALONE. HE’S GAY. nobody's believing their eyes and ears whenever spock talks about loving women it's fucking hilarious. scotty is getting pussy (literal) (the cat lady is all over him). and two rock godzillas ???

jesus christ spock

oh that’s the « now let’s talk about your heart my dear » by stoned-with-love-potion bones episode.

then it must be a fucking massive one scotty

when will i be free of follow-up episodes.

episode 11 : they all shrunk ??? because of some light ray ??? and then it’s just the lilliputians plot.

episode 12 : space bermudas triangle, okay. and klingons. scotty ready to fight them. then sulu passes out on bridge. ship taken in the weird ass triangle. no i don’t bother making sentences anymore, they don’t deserve it. i love how they don’t even seem surprised they’re in an alternate universe. spock being so excited about collaborating with klingons to punch their way out of the time-space continuum that he shows emotion it became weird. bones starting a brawl with the klingons because he just asked a klingon lady for a dance. they managed to punch their way through the continuum.

episode 13 : a kraken ???? SPOCK AND JIM KIDNAPPED BY THE KRAKEN ??? and now they’re sirens ??? and they meet the other merpeople. they almost die taking the antidote for the mutation. end of story.

episode 14 : special lgbt detachment (mission with just spock, uhura and sulu). that and they took warrior cats a bit too literally. there’s also a small reenactment of oppenheimer. they’re not even phased by that.

episode 15 : they beam down on planet and get attacked 0.7 seconds after. and bones gets crushed under a dinosaur’s ass. « spock, do you ever say anything straight out ? » YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW HE CAN’T, BONES. and stop bringing pterodactyls in, for the love of god.

only acceptable reaction :

episode 16 : super dangerous mission to retrieve a soul (???) and who do you send ? the senior commanding officers of course. NOT JIM SAYING "FASCINATING" WHEN THAT LADY - WHO JUST SAID SPOCK WAS UGLY - ASKED HOW HE FINDS HER. little moment of "i'm not leaving you and that's end of discussion" between jim and spock.

AND STOP IT WITH THE FUCKING PTERODACTYLS.

#*sobbing* THIS WAS ONLY SEASON ONE #star trek

0 notes

babycharmander · 3 years

Photo

PSYCHONAUTS 2 COMES OUT AUGUST 25th! Want something to do until then?

Here’s a list of 73 characters from the original Psychonauts as well as a few from Psychonauts in the Rhombus of Ruin! (Starting with... the Emotional Baggage, because I think everyone’s a bit emotional right now, right?)

You can draw or write these characters if you like, and combine days if you want to. Go nuts, have fun, and COUNT DOWN THE DAYS UNTIL THE SEQUEL TO THE MOST EXCELLENT GAME PSYCHONAUTS!

(Text list of characters under the readmore!)

Emotional Baggage (Suitcase, Purse, Trunk, Dufflebag, Hatbox)

Vaults

Oatmeal

Psi-Bears

Psi-Cougars

Confusion Rats

Harold

Censors (Stamping Censors, Little Censors, Shouting Censors, Strongarm Censors)

Personal Demons

Nightmares

Mega Censor

Lungfish Citizens, Kochamara

G-Men

Den Mother, Rainbow Squirts

Stage Actors (Flower/Thistle Girls, Dogs/Hounds, Birds/Bats)

Becky Houndstooth

Jasper Rolls

Bonita Soleil

The Phantom

Napoleon Bonaparte, Soldiers

Cannon Snails

Peasants, Carpenter

Knight, Snails

Ungrateful Cows

Dog Painters (Collie, St. Bernard, Dalmatian, Bulldog)

Luchadores

Dingo Inflagrante

Lampita Pasionado

El Odio

Lil Oly, Mr. Bun

Bunny Demon, Knife Thrower

The Butcher

Nightmare Augustus

Two-Headed Dad Monster

Fish Guards

Loboto’s Mom, Loboto’s Dad

Dogen Boole

Bobby Zilch

Elka Doom

Milka Phage

Clem Foote

Crystal Flowers Snagrash

Elton Fir

Nils Lutefisk

James “J.T.” Hoofburger

Chops Sweetwind

Mikhail Bulgakov

Maloof Canola

Quentin Hedgemouse

Phoebe Love

Chloe Barge

Benny “The Nose” Fideleo

Vernon Tripe

Kitty Bubai

Franke Athens

D’artagnan

Linda the Hulking Lungfish of Lake Oblongata

Mr. Pokeylope

Boyd Cooper

Gloria Von Gouton

Fred Bonaparte

Crispin Whytehead

Edgar Teglee

Sheegor

Truman Zanotto

Augustus Aquato

Caligosto Loboto (and/or little Loboto, First Mate Loboto, Monstroboto)

Morceau Oleander

Sasha Nein

Milla Vodello

Ford Cruller (Agent, Janitor, Chef, Ranger, Admiral)

Lili Zanotto

Razputin Aquato

Oleander: “IT’S GAME DAY KIDS”

#razputin aquato #psychonauts #psychonauts 2 #(yes I know there's typos I'm sorry I haven't eaten for like seven hours)#ALSO HUGE THANK YOU TO JAYWINGS FOR HELPING ME WITH THIS

96 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 4: Ch 10 - 13)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 3 Summary: here

You receive a name list of people involved in the Evol assassinations, and realise that quite a number of them were participants in the Hunter Game. After considering the significance of this list, you decide to discuss the matter with Victor

With Victor’s prompting, you do a cost-benefit analysis and find that disclosing the document brings greater benefits than disadvantages. However, doing this will make LFG a target of the true mastermind behind the assassination incidents

“After all, he isn’t the only one with a trump card.”

As expected, disclosing the list results in heated debate from various segments of society

While leaving Souvenir one day, the brake of Victor’s car fails to work because someone tampered with it

The two of you have no choice but to speed around the city. Despite it being an incredibly dangerous situation, he remains composed, successfully resolving the issue before him. It’s the first time you realise how skilled Victor is in driving

After the incident, you track down the person who tampered with Victor’s car, and find that he has been assassinated

Likely sensing your feelings, Victor invites you to the park after work. When you head to the park as arranged, you see his figure from afar as he waits for you

You deliberately send him a text, telling him that you’re still at work. He believes it at first, but reacts soon after. He scans his surroundings, then meets your eyes amongst the crowd

“Childish.”

While taking a stroll in the park, the both of you stop before a tree. A long time ago, Victor had coursed through time and entered the future in order to prove that the future could be changed. Back then, you had engraved your wish. This time, the same words are your source of determination. Next to you, Victor smiles and changes “May everyone be safe and healthy” to “Everyone will be safe and healthy”

When he takes you to the riverside, Victor finally tells you the true reason why he asked you to meet him. He’s currently acquiring businesses related to the “Small Syringes”. He needs this information to be publicly disclosed in order to lure the forces that are lying low to the surface voluntarily. Even though you’re worried, you choose to trust his decision. You volunteer to release this news as it can drum up a large volume of public opinion

Victor looks at you, his expression proud and gentle

"Here’s to a pleasant collaboration.”

After the news is made public, the reputation of LFG suffers a drastic decline as expected

On the surface, your interactions with LFG have lessened. At the entrance of LFG, Victor walks forward amid the remarks and hostility by passers-by. You want to defend him, but reason tells you to stay where you are, and not act impulsively

As your eyes gradually redden, you receive a message from him-

“The weather is pretty nice today.”

Victor’s plan progresses steadily. What you’ve done has also allowed the reputation of Black Swan to rise

Even though the two of you are walking in different directions, you are certain that you’re standing in the turbulent undercurrents together

The director of the hospital whom you once interviewed has discovered a reason for the pathological changes in Evolvers, and has invited you over to talk about it. Unfortunately, a group of Evolver gangsters has suddenly taken the hospital hostage

The STF rushes to the scene quickly. When you hear Gavin’s voice, your heart feels much more at ease

The main plotter, Yang Ping, has held normal civilians as hostages, and requests for a series of provisions to be made for Evolvers, so that Evolvers can have more “benefits”

Struck with an idea, you remain on the scene to assist Gavin at any moment. When he sees you, Gavin understands your intentions despite being worried

The STF receives an order from the higher ups to disregard the lives of the hostages, and go straight to quashing the situation. Gavin openly defies orders, choosing to safeguard the lives of everyone as a priority, and to negotiate with the gangsters

“I’ll take responsibility for all the consequences.”

During the confrontation with Yang Ping, Gavin uncovers Yang Ping’s true motive: to force the STF into harming someone in order to shatter the balance between civilians and Evolvers

Catching Gavin’s hint, you pretend that the negotiation went sour and that Yang Ping had injured you, turning the tides in your favour. After all, you’re simply an Evolver used as a chip in the negotiation. Yang Ping’s claim of “doing things with Evolvers in mind” no longer holds any weight

Because of this, the STF agents are given an opportunity to suppress the gangsters

Everything appears to be wrapped up smoothly, but the director is suddenly shot by a sniper. Yang Ping is also shot

Late at night, you spot Gavin standing below your house, braving the rain

Gavin seems to be experiencing complex emotions. To you, perhaps he was unable to fire every bullet for justice

Sensing that Gavin isn’t simply referring to the incident at the hospital, you tell him that you believe in his judgement

“I’ll find the truth behind this incident.”

Gavin also gives you an incredibly resolute response

A few days later, Gavin seems to have made up his mind. He tells you that he’s investigating an incident called “New Year’s Day Change”, and he needs your help

You agree immediately

Gavin has already contacted a key informant: an old ex-policeman. Because the forces behind the incident are incredibly complicated, he needs you to cooperate with him in putting on an act

“Miss Nox isn’t showing due respect by dampening one’s spirits the moment she enters.”

He needs those people who have been paying close attention to this incident to have a mistaken impression that he’s still searching for the old ex-policeman. In order to protect you, he needs you to leave his side

Gavin will be the target of scrutiny, while the eyes on you will slacken. You’ll use this opportunity to become the mode of communication between Gavin and his informants, safely assisting Gavin in advancing in his investigations

As the final step of this plan, Gavin pushes you off the top of a building

He appears determined in breaking off relations, while you're hesitant and powerless. But the both of you are clear that the plan is going as smoothly as imagined

“I’m the greatest danger.”

You know that Gavin is walking down his path resolutely. And you will naturally want to become the person standing beside him, walking down the same path

Through a report done by a member of Black Swan, you discover that the pathological changes in Evolvers are related to their Evol. You also realise that Helios seems to be investigating this matter

At the same time, Savin tells you that something has happened to Kiro, and he’s in the hospital. You immediately rush over, but you’re told that Kiro doesn’t want to see anybody

Across the door, you tell Kiro that you wish to see him. After a strange silence, he speaks slowly

“Thank you. You can go back.”

Behind the door, only Kiro knows the reason why he’s behaving strangely - due to a sonic bomb, he has lost his hearing

Kiro avoids you for many days, until he organises an exclusive “live concert” for you one evening. The next day, he’s finally willing to meet you. When you see that Kiro doesn't seem to have changed much, you relax a little, despite having many doubts

But in the evening, you receive a statement from him which says he’s “retiring from public life permanently”, and he vanishes

Knowing full well just how much he loves the stage, you decide to keep the matter hidden, attempting to look for him

Unexpectedly, you bump into Helios at the Black Swan building

“The person you’re looking for isn’t here.”

His cold attitude makes you understand that Kiro has turned himself into Helios. He’s hiding from you, and also himself

To have a better understanding of his actions, you look through the clues pertaining to him. When you investigate the Hunter Game again, a stone tablet with the symbol “8″ appears multiple times

In order to carry out a concrete investigation, you return to the forest where you had once participated in the Hunter Game, and search for that stone tablet

The moment you touch it, thorns and thistles grow on the stone tablet, cutting your hand and absorbing your blood. Before you can react, the ground underneath your feet opens. Just as you’re about to fall into the abyss, Helios saves you

Despite being faced with his icy attitude, you attempt to form a partnership with him to explore this place

In the dark, rays of light fluctuate into a message that neither of you can comprehend. 19, an artificial intelligence which remains here, enables you to understand that this place is a historical ruins left behind by the previous civilisation - “Lighthouse”

19 tells the both of you that their world was once as flourishing as it is right now, but it was destroyed. They left the “Lighthouse” behind in hopes of assisting the both of you in preventing the fated destruction

You and Helios also hear about the songs from that generation. Cultures and languages may not be the same, but music can cross barriers

When one song ends, Helios sings that melody in his own way, letting it echo in this time and space

"All of you still exist.”

After leaving the Lighthouse, you tell him that you’re going to continue with the investigations, and use your own method to tell Helios that you’re willing to face him, and would like to carrying out this operation with him. You hope that this time, he can walk towards you voluntarily

After returning, you receive a call from an unknown number

“It’s me.”

In order to investigate the Hunter Game further, you once again participate in the game as a punter

You do your best to search for the stone tablet in this game, but accidentally get targeted by two players. Just as you plan to fight with them, Shaw, whom you haven’t seen in several days, appears from behind you

The both of you cooperate, settling the score with the other two

“Tch. Not even one of you can fight.”

You tell him about the “Lighthouse”. Shaw, who has been researching on the historical ruins, guesses that the venue of the Hunter Game could be deliberately designed to be near the ruins. By using large amounts of Evol energy fluctuations, it could unseal the ruins

While the discussion has signs of a positive outcome, the two of you are still embroiled in the game

Shaw’s conspicuous ranking and high-key thunder and lightning have attracted numerous opponents to him. But with your cooperation, the enemies fail in succession

The metal chain around his neck notifies him that he has advanced into the next round, but he loses consciousness in your arms due to a fever

The youth who usually hangs around Joker appears before you. You use psychological tactics to goad him into sending Shaw to the hospital. On the other hand, you’re taken away by him for breaking the rules of the game repeatedly

When Shaw regains consciousness, he’s unable to contact you. He returns to the antique store, only to see that it has been swallowed up by an abnormal black flame

“Get lost!”

In spite of the firefighters’ obstructions, Shaw makes repeated trips into the shop, “rescuing” the calligraphy and paintings

By the time the fire is extinguished, the antique shop is already half scorched, as though it’s a warning

Based on the youth’s memories, you discover that Joker has once visited the former site of the BS research centre. In order to find out why, you hurry over

You inadvertently find that there’s someone in the archive room. Just as you're feeling tense, your phone suddenly rings - at 2.03pm, an unknown number calls you

The sound exposes you. Taking out a gun, you attempt to warn the person in the building

“I surrender.”

That person turns out to be Lucien, and he's holding a floppy disk in his hand

Lucien explains what he’s doing here, and even demonstrates how you can use the data in the floppy disk

A series of numbers flash on the screen before it turns dark

Having considered that this process of reading data is highly confidential, Lucien notes how they might have been watched earlier, and that it’s better to leave

However, you suddenly feel dizzy. In the next second, you find yourself in the corridor. The door to the archive room is shut tight, and you can’t see Lucien anyway

Even though you’ve clearly set your phone to silent mode, it rings again. The screen shows that it’s 2.03pm. It’s a missed call from an unknown number

Returning to the archive room, it’s as though Lucien didn’t meet you earlier

You surmise that you’re experiencing this for the second time, and Lucien believes you without hesitation, speculating that you might have been in a time loop

Just as he says, whenever a certain amount of time passes, everything returns to 2.03pm

Unexpectedly, but as a matter of course, Lucien believes you every single time. He analyses the situation with you, helping you escape from the time loop

After a few more time loops, Lucien figures out a way to escape

“This time, let me accompany you in jumping out of this looping time.”

Time requires an object of reference. You're at the centre of the time loop circle, and the compass drawing the circle is your phone

Because this phone is special, it doesn’t vanish when you leave it with Lucien. At the same time, in order to measure time, your phone reappears in your hand

Since one object cannot exist in two places at the same time, this results in a contradiction that causes time and space to collapse

The next day, you and Lucien meet along the corridor, and agree to go on a stroll outside

Even though many things are unclear, the radiance of spring before you makes everything seem as though they are going in a beautiful direction. You can’t help but mention the promise you once made with Lucien to fly kites

“Spring may not necessarily arrive at a fixed time.”

In a teasing manner, Lucien says that he isn’t late. You also think that perhaps many things can start afresh

All of a sudden, you feel a severe pain in your chest-

“Now, spring has just begun.”

The words Lucien just said have yet to disperse

At this moment, he’s holding your collapsed form. The only colour in his monochrome world is gradually fading

Volume 5 (Ch 14 - 17): here

More S2 content: here

A detailed translation of Gavin’s part is available here!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers

49 notes · View notes

ren-c-leyn · 2 years

Note

Hey Ren! happy storyteller saturday! what are your favourite tropes to write about? are there any reasons for those being your favourite? o:

And a happy storyteller saturday to you too, Jacques!

So, I'm not great with identifying tropes. I don't know half of their names, or even that some tropes are tropes. So, this is probably not a complete list and may be a bit messy.

I do like the chosen one trope, but I like bending it. So, like Sparrow isn't the chosen one of The Plight of a Sparrow, even though she's the narrator and main character. I had an old project that had a chosen one, but everyone kept thinking he was the bad one of that prophecy and kept trying to murder him. I have some short stories around here with chosen ones too, like the latest follower celebration story.

I'm not sure why it's one of my favorites, but I do enjoy seeing what different characters do when faced with fate. I like to see people like Sparrow, who say maybe I'm not the hero, but I'm going to be a hero. I like characters like Crescent, the real chosen one of The Plight of a Sparrow, who realize they're just pawns in a pointless game of Gods and find far more meaning in the actions of people like Sparrow. I like characters like the MC of the follower celebration story who want to do anything but follow their destiny, and walk towards it anyways. I like characters who fight their fate, tooth and nail, like savages because to hell with Gods and their plans, I want to live. And then there's characters like the kid in a short story of mine who jump into it enthusiastically, only to realize that they aren't nearly as ready for it as they thought.

Found family tends to come up a lot in my writing too. Thistle and Valerian, Sparrow and the cast of The Plight of a Sparrow, The trio in Forgotten Gods, the guild in The Shackles of Time, and Orion and his two robo friends are kind of a found family? I just love the idea of these people choosing each other as their family. Of sometimes finding the place they belong among people who genuinely care, not because they have a duty or obligation to, but because they choose to.

I do also love a good isekai, where a character gets dragged into another world. Most of my early projects, like The Plight of a Sparrow, is the main character getting sent to a different world and having to deal with all of that nonsense. I'm not sure why, exactly. It's just something I enjoy writing, and enjoy watching in anime.

Old worlds that have seen the rise and fall of multiple civilizations is also a favorite of mine. I love the aesthetic of ancient ruins dotting the landscape and the tons of lore that come with it.

Thanks for stopping in! I hope you have a lovely day/evening ^^

#storyteller saturday #tropes

2 notes · View notes

shealwaysreads · 4 years

Note

16 and 25 for the end of year asks please! 💙💙💙

Hello darling! Thanks for playing, and apologies for being...days late with my reply 😅❤️

16. fic(s) you completed this year

So, every fic I’ve ever written for the Harry Potter fandom has been done this year - and every single one has been a joy and a journey of learning.

Here they are - all 15 (FIFTEEN?!) of them!

Heaven’s Embroidered Cloths -

In which the Yule Ball opens Harry's eyes to beauty and splendour, and it takes him eight years to find someone who realises exactly what he wants. Magical fabric, solstice celebrations, and first kisses in borrowed clothes.

My first ever fic for Harry Potter, my first every drarry! Encouraged, aided and abetted, by @diligent-thunder @tepre and @bixgirl1 and our collective obsession for Wizarding clothes. Looking back I can see the flaws and my baby-foal fumbling with characterisation, but this was the beginning of my little fandom frolic (and ongoing kink obsession with their clothes) so I love it dearly!

Simple Little Kiss -

Harry slid his knife and fork together, and leaned back in his chair to watch Draco finish the last sip of wine in his glass, the long line of his neck exposed as he tipped his head back. Satisfaction and longing vied for the top spot in his mind. One appetite had been thoroughly sated; another was growling its hunger in his chest.

Prompted by the lovely @malenkayacherepakha this little ditty was based on: ‘One Small Kiss, Pulling Away For An Instant, Then Devouring Each Other’. Needless to say, that was right up my street 🙌

Those Who Favor Fire -

In which Harry and Draco ride out the effects of a potion, revealing every feeling that lies beneath.

My first ever Drabble for the monthly Drarry Discord Writers Corner Challenge - this server full of talented, creative, and encouraging folk has absolutely been pivotal in my swan dive into writing this year ❤️

Crow’s Feet - a gift for @erin-riwen - and a very self-indulgent one at that. I’m a sucker for love, and gentleness, and life well lived for my darling Harry and Draco and this was me just revelling in that!

Writing’s On The Wall -

In which the Auror department is surprisingly artistic, Draco is still an overdramatic shit, Harry still makes the most of any trouble that finds him, and getting horizontal is the solution to everyone's problems.

This is really showing up my terrible summary habits isn't it 👀 ANYWAY! This is another fic inspired by the fabulous drarry squad server - and my first attempt at being funny? (Also, Draco is fresh out the shower and if that isn't entirely on brand for me idk what is)

Honesty Is The Best Policy -

In which Auror partners Malfoy and Potter discover a trunk full of depraved tools, and Harry might have to explain himself.

Another Drabble for the Drarry Discord gang!

A Shorts Story About Love -

House-sharing with Slytherins, student life, magic weed, and short shorts. Harry's life at university might be strange, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

Entirely inspired by the lovely @rose-grangerweasleyisbae and her prompt over on the Drarry Discord. I had a ball writing this, it was one of those pics that just flowed, and I loved the little world I dreamed up - might even revisit it at some point...

Sunkissed -

Burnt toast, international Portkeys, ancient ruins, and Harry's own special brand of support.

Written for this years @hpdrizzle - my first ever fest fic, prompted by @maraudersaffair who I have to thank for igniting my lowkey head canon of freckled!Draco into a full blown writing brand™️ ❤️

Patient, Hungry, Waiting -

“Potter looked every inch the picture of the war hero that the Ministry loved to trot out for events like this, and nothing like he had on the day he actually did end the war. A decade of rising through the Auror ranks and hunting down dark Wizards, with all of the efficacy and subtlety of a natural disaster, had turned a skinny boy with knobbly knees into a strong, self-assured man who fairly commanded the room. He was resplendent in wine-dark robes, gold buttons and epaulettes, and a profusion of medals; a world away from the exhaustion, grime, and worn out jeans he wore during the Battle of Hogwarts. Draco, for one, approved of the changes.”

...

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy has learned the value of patience, the scintillation of delayed gratification, the thrill of waiting out his prey. Tonight, he's going to show Potter that good things come to those who wait.

A gift for my darling @tackytigerfic on her birthday, and one of my favourite fics of mine. As much as this was written to indulge her every whim, her tastes align so closely with mine this felt pretty damn self indulgent - can I say leather thigh wand-holster anyone? 😉

Pathless Woods -

“There is a pleasure in the pathless woods” Lord Byron.

Harry finds himself unexpectedly reacquainted with Draco Malfoy when his work as an apprentice wandmaker takes him to Wiltshire. Amongst the trees Harry finds magic, growth, and a man who might finally be proving he’s worthy of the wand that chose him.

Hawthorn, Unicorn hair, 10 inches, reasonably pliant.

A story of found family, trees with feelings, belief in the power of growth, wandlore, and gratuitous description of Handsome Estate Owner™ Draco Malfoy swanning around in white shirts and leather boots.

Written for @hd-fan-fair and it’s my longest fic to date - a little out of my usual wheelhouse - it’s gentle, more of a tale than a rollicking ride, but I adored writing it, and love the way it turned out.

Logical - Inspired by this stunning art by @potter-art! I just couldn’t help myself, I was thirsty enough for Draco in leather to be one of the many to prompt her the outfit in question for drawing - and then the finished product was so GODDAMN hot I had to write poor Harry having to deal with it! ❤️🔥

No Absolutes - The first of my ‘I finished all my fest deadlines for the year prompt me Hozier songs for ficlets’ project (all of you who prompted, I promise I haven't forgotten, I’m working on them!)

This one is for @littlebozsheep who suggested Take Me to Church, and I had a lot of fun making this not-quite-poetry-not-quite-prose little baby of mine.

And my rarepair babies:

A Study In Contrasts -

In which Neville grew up hot, but still doesn't quite remember it all the time, and Theo is freckled, handsome, and likes plants. You know what happens next.

Okay so the lovely @drarryruinedme7 slid into my DMs and started talking HP rarepairs with me and when she started talking about Neville x Theo my eyes lit up and my writerly ears perked up - think excited meerkat, that's about how it felt.

After rummaging through the internet for their facecasts - see Neville and Theo (important research okay, the fact they're devastatingly gorgeous is neither here nor there) I had the delightful excuse of the @growing-neville fest to light a fire under my arse and write a fic, which I gifted to @drarryruinedme7!

All Our Strength, And All Our Sweetness -

In which Neville cooks, Theo is seriously into being manhandled, these two finally get each other naked, and it turns out they're compatible outside of the greenhouse too.

I was NOT DONE with these two! I still have lots of feelings about this little ‘verse I created and I will be playing with these delicious toys again soon 😉

Devil’s Snare -

In which some late night extra-curricular work in Greenhouse Nine turns into a whole new Herbology discovery for Neville Longbottom.

Did I ever see myself writing Neville x Devil’s Snare? No. Did I commit 100% once I decided to go for it? Yes. Do I entirely blame the kinky gang on the Drarry Discord? Also yes.

21. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

Gosh, okay Corie pick the hard questions why don’t you?! I have read so many incredible fics this year - let’s face it - every fic I’ve read is brilliant in it’s own way (and I’m thinking of doing a ‘this is what I read this year’ list to cover them all) but I’m going to try and nail it down to...5...okay so, 10. Alphabetical, cause these are all adored equally.

amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (drarry)

All Bets Are Off by @dualwieldteacup (drarry)

Before the World Was Made by @13pawns (drarry)

Brick by Brick by agentmoppet (drarry)

Cupid Disarmed by @chromat1cs (wolfstar)

Offer Up Our Hearts by @tackytigerfic (drarry)

Trouble, My Old Friend by @tepre (drarry)

You Burn Me by @etalice (linny)

White As Snow by @bixgirl1 (drarry)

with exactness grinds he all by @thistle-verse (drarry)

I’m playing the Fanfic end of the year asks game!

❤️

#drarry #drarry fic rec #drarry squad #lovely people being lovely #coriesocks #ask me #fanfic ask meme #isobel talks #isobel writes #things to read #hp

23 notes · View notes

buttsonthebeach · 4 years

Text

Lost Horizon, Pt. 2

@scharoux is the sweetest and most patient soul for waiting so long for part two of this story - thank you, dear friend, for trusting me with Rhaella and her epic tale!

This long fic picks up almost directly where The Last Game last left off - with Rhaella pregnant and alone in a world where Solas has removed the Veil, despite her attempts to stop him.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions

Part One of Lost Horizon can be found here

Other pieces about Rhaella I have written include:

1. All Things Green and Growing

2. The Long Road Back

3. The Turning of the Year

3. The Same Kind of Scar (contains explicit content)

4. World Without End (contains explicit content)

5. The Last Game Pt. 1, the Last Game Pt. 2, and the Last Game Pt. 3 (contains explicit content), and the Last Game Pt. 4

Pairing: Rhaella Lavellan x Solas, post-Trespasser

Rating: Teen for violence, references to sex

Warning: Directly referenced character death for a character from DAI, general references to death and destruction

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

Merrill and Rhaella’s journey to Skyhold was slow. Isabela’s ship carried them swift and true - that part wasn’t the problem, even if the ship and all the crew seemed haunted, even if Rhaella could feel the absence of a woman she had never met as surely as she could feel the sea breeze - but once they were back on land, and traveling via horseback, her pregnancy proved a problem once more. She felt impossibly huge, her belly as big and round as the horse’s it seemed. Years of practice had made her a good rider, but the extra weight and the shift in her center of balance was even more pronounced now than it had been before, when she had ridden from Skyhold to Jader for her journey to Kirkwall.

The slow going meant she had plenty of time to take in how much had changed since that last journey, when she had been on her way to stop Solas. The burned out villages, and also the rapturous displays of light in the night sky - the dance of spirits thrilled to be free of the Veil. They rarely had to use a campfire for light, in fact. Wisps were drawn to them the way moths used to be. They frequently went to Rhaella’s belly after floating near her head and Merrill’s.

At least you’ll get beauty like this, little one.

Her magic surged towards each and every wisp when they came, but she tamped it down. Solas would know the feel of her magic, even across the distance, as surely as he would know the sound of her voice. They had not been pursued as far as they could tell, by people or by spirits, and she wanted to keep it that way. Merrill had known a draught to keep her from entering the Fade, which was their other means of concealment since they’d left.

“Poor Feynriel,” Merrill said the first time she brewed it. “I wonder what’s become of him in this world. If it makes more sense to him now, or less. Marethari made this for him while he was staying with the clan, and I learned it when we visited once. He was a Dreamer, so a draught like this didn’t always work for him, but it will be good enough for you and I. It feels like a different life to remember those times, when he was one of my biggest worries..”

“It does,” Rhaella said, even if she was only remembering a few weeks ago, when she’d been on this road going in the opposite direction, convinced she could stop the tide of Solas’s power from sweeping through and changing everything.

Sometimes on that long slow journey she lay there and was convinced the baby would never be born. She would be trapped like this forever, huge and waiting, adrift. She wondered how many other pregnant mothers lay awake in Thedas staring at the same moons and feeling the same way. They’d conceived their children in one world, and they would be born into an alien one.

Rhaella was grateful for Merrill’s training as a First, and her involvement in Kirkwall’s alienage since then. She still knew enough about pregnancy and babies to act as a midwife. She seemed less puzzled than the other midwife about the size of Rhaella’s belly, how it was bigger than they were expecting.

“Solas is not a small man,” she said with a shrug. “As long as you feel well, and you can still feel your little one wriggling about in there, I’m not worried.”

Solas is not a small man. The words sent a shiver of memory through Rhaella as she envisioned the days and nights that had led her to this moment. The size and weight of his body, how sheltered it made her feel, how whole. She pushed those thoughts away. She imagined, instead, a son that was as tall as him, who had only his kindness and not his narrowed vision, his pride. A son who reminded her of her own father.

I will love you no matter who you are, she promised anyway, feeling the child move.

The journey grew slower and more difficult as they climbed the mountain paths towards Skyhold. Rhaella struggled to lean far enough forward in the saddle to make her horse comfortable, so they had to walk the steepest parts of it. But, the feeling of being further from civilization, and the giddiness of having evaded Solas for nearly two weeks now, loosened their tongues a little, and Rhaella and Merrill were able to talk more freely. Merrill told stories of Hawke that she had not heard from Varric, and they shared their memories of growing up Dalish, compared notes on the Arlathvhens they had been to, speculated on whether or not they had ever met at one of them. It started to feel a little normal. Almost like Rhaella was back to being Inquisitor, and Merrill was one of her companions.

(It was probably a testament to how upside down things were now that Rhaella could think back to that time with fondness.)

Then they arrived at Skyhold, and all that warmth, all that strength she’d built, drained away.

It was not so much that the building was different. Its ancient stone was largely unchanged. It had weathered the creation of the Veil, after all. It was not even the scorch marks all over the courtyard, or the charred ruins of the stables.

It was the sound of the empty hospital tents flapping in the breeze. Of wooden shutters banging listlessly against stone walls.

It was the total, absolute emptiness of the place that had become her home.

The castle stood, but the people were gone, and the emptiness of that threatened to swallow her whole.

She should have been wise enough to expect this, to know that things would not be as she left them, that she would not return home to rally the people she’d left behind to some sort of unlikely victory. She had not heard from any of her forces in the weeks she’d been in Kirkwall. She’d hoped that was because Solas was intercepting their messages, that against all odds, there was still a home to come back to, a chance to set things right. Still, the blow of the silence struck her as true as any kick or punch ever had.

Then there was a high, hollow sound - a call, almost like that of a bird’s - but bigger, and then louder, like a trumpet, coming from the lower courtyard, and the sudden movement of a big brown blur -

“Thistle!” Rhaella called, and her hart galloped to her, drawing up short when he reached her, and then snuffling her with his warm, soft nose, whining again in his throat. She rested her forehead against his, breathed in the warm, woodsy smell of his hide. She scratched the place behind his ears that always made him stamp his feet with delight.

“Hello, friend,” Merrill said, approaching. “You’re a delight! I haven’t seen a hart like this in a long time.”

“He has been my constant companion for years now. I can’t even tell you how good it feels to see that he is okay.” Rhaella leaned her head against Thistle’s again and took another calming breath. She did not need to jump straight to despair. She had not even gone inside the keep yet. Who knew who else she would find, or what signs would be left behind - maybe everyone had moved somewhere else, or gone out into the world to help make a difference -

She wasn’t sure whether to feel reassured or afraid when the first arrow flew and landed at her feet.

Merrill’s hand flung out instantly, as if to shield her, and Rhaella’s magic crackled beneath her skin, longing to cast a barrier. She had to actively work not to cast the barrier without the Veil in the way, and it made her grind her teeth. Her son kicked wildly in her stomach at the sensation of the caged magic.

“It’s okay,” Rhaella called out when the urge to cast her spell passed. She looked in the direction the arrow had come from - the old tavern. She started in that direction, brushing off Merrill’s arm. “It’s me, it’s Rhaella.”

Another arrow flew, this one passing over her shoulder, so close that Rhaella could hear the pitch-perfect whine as it cleaved the air by her ear. Thistle snorted and stamped behind her, spooked, and Merrill took her staff off her back. The third arrow struck the barrier that Merrill cast, splintering into a shower of wooden shards, but Rhaella had seen where it was headed. Straight for her head.

Then Rhaella saw her, in the upper window of the tavern, leaning out now, bow in hand. Sera.

“Sera!” She called, waving her arms, walking closer. Surely it was an accident. Surely Sera had not actually meant to aim for a killing blow. “Sera, it’s just me.”

“Yes,” Sera said, nocking another arrow, half-drawing back the string. She stepped out onto the roof of the tavern. Her skin was even paler than usual, but her eyes were rimmed as red as the plaidweave armor she wore. “Who the fuck do you think I have been waiting for?”

Rhaella’s heart sank.

“Sera -”

“They’re all dead!” Sera shouted, the tears coming now. “All of them! Every person that mattered to me is gone now. Every person who trusted you to lead us. They all paid the price, and for what? So you could get a good shag with a man who never really loved you? And you didn’t even have to see it, did you, oh high and mighty Inquisitor? No, you got to be somewhere far away when it all came crashing down, all the fire and magic and shite, all the screaming and the dying. But I didn’t get that. I had to be here. I had to see it happen. I had to watch and even when I shut my eyes I had to listen. D’you know what it sounded like when your precious Commander died?”

Cullen.

No, not Cullen.

He was many things - not all of them good - but Rhaella prayed in that moment to the gods she didn’t believe in that Sera was lying.

“D’you know what it was like for him when all that bloody magic came rushing back, after all those years he’d worked to stop taking that Maker forsaken lyrium? I bet you didn’t even think about it when you went rushing back to your arse-wiping Dread Wolf. About how he would fucking scream -”

“Stop!”

Rhaella was aware that Merrill had shouted the word, that Sera was still talking, but the sounds were distant, covered up by a roaring as real as the sound of an ocean storm, of an earthquake. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t even think beyond the roaring sound. It was only the kicking and rolling of her child within her womb that brought her back to the surface.

“You don’t understand,” Merrill was saying. “Rhaella went to Kirkwall to stop him. She tried her best. She never stopped trying. She fought him until the very last moment, but there was nothing anyone could do. He was too strong for anyone but another of his own kind. And Rhaella didn’t stop there. She has been aiding the wounded ever since then, and once she had her first opportunity to flee from Solas, she did. How do you think she ended up here?”

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Sera said, and there was a sudden wave of magical heat rolling off of her, sparks at her fingertips. “Shite!”

She threw down her bow and Rhaella could see the trembling in her fingers. Sera had never wanted this, and now she was cursed with it. Magic.

Rhaella opened her mouth but no words came out. Her chest felt like it was caving in. Like all of Sera’s words had lodged there, true as arrows, true as morning sun.

“Please, believe us,” Merrill was pleading. “Neither of us wanted this. We’re trying to make our way in this world, the same as you.”

Sera shook her head once, viciously, and picked up her bow. She nocked the arrow again and started to draw it back. Rhaella realized that her hands were over her belly, feeling it warm and tight as a drum, but her magic was not seething inside her this time. She was making no real move to defend herself. Merrill grounded herself, started gathering the energy for a barrier. Then Sera lowered her bow.

“Get whatever supplies you need to get somewhere else. And then get gone.” Her eyes bored into Rhaella’s. “If I ever see you again, I will kill you.”

Then she disappeared back into the shadows of the tavern.

Rhaella felt rooted to the ground where she stood. Like she might never move from this spot again.

It was one thing to see the devastation of Kirkwall - a city that was not a part of her, another vein through which her own heart’s blood flowed - it was another to stand here in Skyhold and witness the magnitude of her failure. To hear those words of accusation dropped not from the mouth of a stranger but from a friend.

Cullen.

“Rhaella. Rhaella. Come on, love. I don’t think we want to stay here long.”

Merrill was using the same voice that Rhaella herself used to gentle Thistle when he was spooked. Her hands were on Rhaella’s shoulders, guiding. Their steps towards the keep were slow. Thistle whined, high and loud and mournful. Rhaella wondered what stories he would share of the day the Veil fell, if he could speak.

She tried not to study Skyhold as they walked through it. Tried not to see the blood or the winding patterns of lighting etched into wood and stone, the overturned tables, the shattered glasses. The kitchen was ripped apart but there was still food enough in the storeroom beyond it, and she and Merrill filled their packs with as much of it as they could reasonably carry. Rhaella felt the burden of her pregnancy all over again, how she would need more food than she ever had before on the road.

“Is there anything else you want to get?” Merrill asked when they were done there.

Rhaella nodded, and went wordlessly towards the long staircase that led to her chambers. Merrill did not follow. She was grateful for that.

Her chambers were exactly as she had left them. That was the most eerie part of all. She was not the same woman she was the last time she slept here. Her bedroom should have reflected that. But everything was in its place - each pillow on the bed, each paper on her desk. She picked up her field journal, which she’d left behind in her haste to get to Kirkwall. Then she saw the one thing that was out of place. A letter in an envelope, right in the center of her desk.

Rhaella

It was Cullen’s handwriting.

D’you know what it sounded like when your precious Commander died?

Rhaella tucked the letter quickly into her bag. She couldn’t read it. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Merrill had distributed everything they gathered between Thistle and their other two horses by the time Rhaella returned. After a brief discussion, they agreed that they would keep both horses, using one for supplies and if one of their other mounts got tired.

“So where do we go now?” Merrill asked, her eyes shifting towards the tavern and then back to Rhaella.

“The Emerald Graves,” Rhaella said. “It has plenty of resources, plenty of places to hide, and it isn’t terribly far from here.”

“I have always wanted to see them,” Merrill said. “All those tombs of the elves who came before us, who fought for our people.”

Rhaella half wondered if the tombs had broken open when the Veil fell - if those elves had stepped out to a brave new world where their people had both won and lost.

She cast one glance back at Skyhold as they rode through its gate. The towers and battlements she’d come to know as home. It was lost to her now, like so many things were. Another ghost of her own, standing stark and sad against the blue mountain sky.

She took a deep breath and rode on.

They rode until nightfall, back down the same road they’d taken up the mountain, until Rhaella’s lower back ached so badly that they could not continue. She warmed damp cloths on a stone over the fire that Merrill built and then had Merill place them where it ached. She’d never wished so desperately for a bed in her life as she did in that moment, lying there on her side on the nest of blankets they’d arranged, unable to curl up into a ball or lie on her stomach, anything to relieve the pain.

“Warn me if it gets more intense,” Merrill said. “Sometimes that’s how it goes for women - the start of labor, that is.”

Rhaella felt a surge of panic and joy alike. Would tonight be the night she met her son, the person that made all of this worth it? The reason she continued putting one foot in front of the other on this road that had no real destination yet. At least not one she could see or count on. But the pain in her back did subside eventually. There was a new chill in the air by that point, a wind coming down off the mountains that made them both shiver. Rhaella looked to the saddlebags they’d removed from their pack horse, hoping for another blanket - and spied something familiar sticking out of one of the ones Merrill had packed. Red and fur-lined.

Cullen’s cloak.

She rose, went to it, pulled it out, half-hoping she was wrong. She wasn’t. She’d have known it anywhere, and of course Merrill would not have. She’d just seen something warm that might help them on their journey, and not another dagger aimed directly at Rhaella’s heart.

Merrill was a few paces away, standing watch since they didn’t want to risk setting wards. Rhaella went to her bag and pulled out the letter she’d found on her desk, the tears already rising in her throat, the guilt already swimming in her stomach. She found a tree that she could sit against, looking away from Merrill, and eased herself to the ground, cloak and letter clutched in one hand.

She read.

Rhaella,

I am never going to see you again.

That's the worst part of this. It isn't the pain or the screaming or the uncertainty. It's knowing I will never see your face or hear your voice again.

My hand is shaking. I hope you can read this if you find it. When you find it. I refuse to believe that you did not survive this. You and the baby - you have to survive. I have to believe this was all worth something, and if the two of you are still out there, it was.

You are the most incredible woman I have ever known, Rhaella. Your quiet strength - I know it will see you through. I have watched you move mountains and I know you will move them again and again.

(I hope this all makes sense. I was never good at words, and my hand is shaking, and everything hurts -)

I wish I could be there to see you move those mountains. To see your baby. The baby I thought of as ours no matter what. I understand that what we had was never going to be real. I am at peace with that. I would have given you everything nonetheless, Rhaella. You and the baby deserved that and I would have been whatever you needed me to be. If - if this isn't the end - if I can withstand this - if we are both alive - I will still give you everything. Not because I want you to wake up one day and love me. But because you deserve that as my friend.

Whatever happens - when you find this - I want you to know that I believe in you. I wish I had words good enough to express it. I don't. I believe in you the same way I believe in the Maker and his Bride. Maybe that is the closest I can come to explaining it. I believe in you, and if anyone can stop Solas, it is you.

If I die today, I die with nothing but faith and devotion in my heart. It was how I always wanted to go, Rhaella. It's okay. I am at peace.

Yours always,

Cullen

She was crying before she finished the third paragraph, of course. Deep, wracking sobs that hollowed out her chest, carved up her ribs, scratched up her throat. They were animal sounds. She wasn't sure how long they went on. It seemed there was no beginning or end to her grief as she thought of everything Sera said, how she'd sacrificed everything for a man who never really loved or deserved her. Were they both right? Was that really the source of her weakness? Had there been some final part of her strength locked behind a door with Solas's name written on it, where she hid all the memories that were good? Had that been the strength she would have needed that day in Kirkwall?

Rhaella cried into the folds of Cullen's cloak, her mind a maze of questions with no answers, and grieved.

Solas generally prided himself on being the master of his emotions. Controlling them, subduing them, and, when all else failed, simply hiding them away.

He did not bother hiding his frustration when he returned from his fight with the Evanuris.

He came into his Kirkwall base of operations and threw down the helm he'd been wearing, reveling in the loud sound of metal striking wood as it hit the table. Maybe if he did that over and over again he could drown out the sound of his failure - of half of the Evanuris's forces escaping into eluvians and shattering them as they left. He'd wanted to pull them out, root and stem, to be done with all of this, to focus on what came next - rebuilding, helping those that remained find peace and meaning in the new world he'd made. Helping himself find peace with what he'd done. Finding time to mourn the friends he had lost (sacrificed).

Mending things with Rhaella.

"We have not been able to trace them yet," Abelas said, calm and even, but with a hesitance that Solas noted at once.

"What else?" He barked. He'd tried not to be the kind of Commander who yelled unless it was truly what the situation warranted. Then again, he'd tried a lot of things. And yet here he was again, with nothing but ash and loneliness to show for it.

"Rhaella and Merrill are gone."

Abelas said it swiftly and calmly, with the precision of a surgeon making his first cut.

Solas felt the air leave the room.

He felt his power leach into the vacuum it left behind.

Raw mana, undirected, uncontained, filling up every object and person around him, lighting up the room with a blue glow, filling it with a subtle roar. He felt his advisors shield themselves in barriers, as if he would attack them. Perhaps he would. (He would not.)

Solas took a breath and drew his mana back in.

“When?”

“Not long after you did as far as we can tell,” Abelas said. Another surgeon’s cut.

“Together.”

“Presumably, yes.”

“Where?”

“Unknown. We have not been able to track them via traditional or arcane means, though perhaps you will have greater success with the latter. You know Rhaella better than any of us, after all.”

For a moment, Solas considered letting her go. It would be kinder in the long run. He’d told her that once, when he was a stronger man. But he still had dried blood under his fingernails, the screams of the dying in his ears. He still had unfinished business, and people who would seek to hurt Rhaella and his child.

(The child, the child, the child, he could hardly bring himself to think the word at first but now it was ringing through his mind like a struck bell, an endless echo. He might not get to meet his child if he could not find her, and perhaps that was what he deserved -)

He had to find her to protect her. To tell her one last time that he was sorry. If she went her own way then - if they went their own way then - he would just have to find a way to endure.

Var lath vir suledin, she had said to him the day he took the Anchor and her arm. Perhaps that was when she was a stronger woman. Perhaps he had broken them both.

“We leave for Skyhold at dawn,” he said. He turned on his heel and left. He had enough control, enough composure, not to spill his tears before them. He waited until he was in Rhaella’s room, surrounded by the smell of her, to do that.

He would endure, he told himself over and over again. He would endure. He simply wasn’t sure what it would cost.

#beach writes #beach does commissions #scharoux #rhaella lavellan #rhaella x solas #lost horizon #character death #angst #...like all the angst

14 notes · View notes

blueboxesandtrafficcones · 4 years

Text

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 30

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Thursday (very, very late)

“I have something for you,” Malcolm murmured, kissing her ear.

“Huh?”

He’d cleaned up the worst of the mess they’d made, and now that the sweat had cooled and dried, they were snuggled together under the blankets, her back to his front, their arms entangled and folded together beneath her breasts. Thoroughly sated, warm, comfortable, and happy, she was almost asleep when he spoke.

He rolled away from her, and by the time he came back she had turned to face him, pillowing her head on her arm as she watched him. His hands appeared, one clenched around something, and her breath caught. “What-”

“Rose,” he cut her off, not unkindly, “you… you are a breath of fresh air. You-”

Unable to help it she yawned, face scrunching with the size of it- it seemed to go on forever, and by the time it was over, he was biting his lip, watching her with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t want to bore you.”

“Mhmm, you’re not,” she promised, snuggling closer, “but I’m exhausted. My husband had me up ridiculously early to watch the sunrise this morning, then he shagged my brains out.”

“Sounds like quite the catch.”

“He is.” She grinned up at him. “And I’m going to return the favor and blow his mind- well, something- as soon as I’ve gotten a kip.”

Malcolm hummed. “Well, I’ll let you get to it, but first- I’ll save the drawn-out romantic speech for when you’re more awake, but…” Holding out his clenched hand in front of him, he turned it over and opened it to reveal a ring, with a decent sapphire stone set in gold. It was beautiful, and delicate, and she loved it.

“Oh, babe,” Rose gasped softly. “That’s wonderful.”

“Do you really think so?” Surprisingly shy, he held it out to her. “If so, I want you to have it. If not, there’s plenty more in the family vault, but- I wanted you to have this one. I’ve wanted you to have it for… a while.”

“Are you sure?” She took in carefully, holding it up to her eye to examine it better. “It looks old. Not in a bad way, just in a valuable way.”

Her husband slid his hand over her waist, pulling her closer. “Yes. I didn’t give you an engagement ring, because… but now that our feelings have been resolved, that it’s all out in the open, I want you to have a pretty ring to show off.”

Rose looked down at the simple gold band she’d been wearing for the last week, and felt her heart melt. “I’m very happy with the ring I already have,” she told him softly, “because you gave it to me. I think this will be a perfect addition.” Then she handed it back.

“Wait, what?”

Rolling her eyes, she held out her left hand to him, grinning. “Go ahead, put it on me. ‘S only right.”

He did, carefully guiding it up her finger and over her knuckles, settling it at the base of her wedding band before bringing her hand to his lips and kissing both rings gently. “Perfect.”

“I agree.” Bringing her hand to her face, she admired how they looked together – like they belonged next to each other. “That wasn’t necessary, but… thank you.”

“You deserve the world,” he shrugged one shoulder. “A ring- a family heirloom at that- is nothing.”

Smiling, she leaned forward, kissing him sweetly. “Let’s get some sleep,” she sighed against his lips. “Then when we wake up, I’ll thank you properly.”

He kissed her back. “No thanks necessary.”

“Oh, I think it’s very necessary.”

Friday (very, very early)

Yawning, Rose padded back to bed from the loo, on her way eyeing the clothing strewn across the floor, abandoned where it had fallen. At first glance it would be impossible to mistake what had happened, and she felt awkward at the idea of the maid finding them like that. Sending a longing glance towards the bed, she quickly gathered up the items and piled them on the chair so they didn’t look quite so much like victims of torrential passion – as they had been.

Climbing back into bed, she snuggled down next to Malcolm in the hopes of falling back asleep, but it was soon clear that that wasn’t going to happen. Her mind was wide awake, and a heat low in her belly begged for relief. Grunting in frustration she opened her eyes, taking in Malcolm’s profile in the moonlight. In his sleep he’d rolled onto his back, one arm bent above his head, the other across his chest. The sheet had slipped down to his hips, and she licked her lips at the slight tenting occurring there.

Glancing back up at his face she found him sleeping soundly, and debated whether or not to wake him up. On the one hand, she saw no reason they should both be awake just because she couldn’t sleep. On the other, if they were awake anyway…

Malcolm drifted towards consciousness, hazily aware of a wet warmth on his stomach. Stretching his arm out beside him, his eyes shot open at realizing he was alone in bed, Rose’s side cool and empty. He didn’t have to wonder long, though, before solving both mysteries at once – his wife was stretched out on her side perpendicular to his waist, drawing shapes on his stomach with her tongue as she propped herself up on her forearms.

“Good morning,” he rasped, threading his fingers through her hair, eyes following the tip of her tongue. “Having fun?”

“Technically, it’s not morning,” she replied with a grin, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his navel. “But, I figured you wouldn’t mind. Tit for tat, and such.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest with a mere, “Oh?”

Her grin morphed into a smirk, and she tugged at the sheet covering his hips; it didn’t move, just pressed down against him, accentuating the tenting happening there. “I mean, if you’re up for it.”

“I could probably be persuaded to be a team player,” he drawled. “For the right price.” Anticipation had heat pooling low in his belly, but he was enjoying the game- he loved how playful she could be, how she brought that same quality out in him. Sex with Rose was fun, in a way it had rarely been throughout his life.

“Is that so?” Freeing one hand, she trailed her fingertips along his length over the sheet, making his obscured erection bob and his stomach clench. “I’ve been known to broker a fair deal or two in my day.”

He stole her abandoned pillow, using it to prop himself up to better see what she was doing- and what he desperately hoped she would be soon. “Rose.”

Rose snickered, and he flushed at his inadvertently-whiney tone. “Yes, dear?”

She drew the sheet away from him, and he helped kick it down to the end of the bed, far out of the way. The cooler air of their bedroom felt wonderful on his heated flesh, and he watched with pleading eyes as she examined his length, abruptly realizing that though they’d been intimate a handful of times now, she’d never really seen him- not like this, and he eyed his sometimes-errant member with suspicion. Don’t ruin this for us, he warned it- no need to remind her that he was officially closing in on ‘middle age’.

Apparently, though, he didn’t need to worry.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, making him twitch in response. “Lovely. Really.” Leaning forward she flicked her tongue against the head, drawing a sigh from him. “And big. Who knew you were hiding this in your trousers all those years?” Her tongue darted out again, and he sagged back against the pillows, hand returning to her hair and combing through the loose strands, gently untangling them.

He let her tease him for far longer than he would have liked, her soft kisses and licks doing nothing but making him ache for her, despite the sensual beauty of the visual. She was on her hands and knees next to him, breasts hanging freely. His eyes lingered along her smooth side, taking in the pert bum wagging slightly in the air with her movements. She was the epitome of art, and were it not so personal and he so possessive, he would insist that her likeness should hang in any of the great art museums in the world, so anyone and everyone could marvel at her sheer, erotic beauty. Eventually, though, the tension became unbearable, and he shifted restlessly on the mattress, his focus narrowing to the imminent pleasure.

“I’m starting to think you’re all talk.”

His beautiful bride looked up the length of his chest to meet his eye, gaze taking its time to peruse the view on the way. “Is that all men think about?” she asked, biting her lip, unable to hide her smirk. “Getting their cock sucked?”

“It is when a beautiful woman promises to do so then doesn’t.” He arched his eyebrows. “You’ve made your husband a promise, Mrs. Tucker, and I expect you to see it through.”

She laughed. “Mrs. Tucker. I like that.” Her fingers wrapped around him, starting a lazy glide along his skin. “You know, this is only fair, after how you tortured me last night.”

“Tortured you?” he said indignantly. “I didn’t know orgasms were considered torture. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Arching one eyebrow up at him, she dipped her head and finally, finally, slid her lips over the head of him, sucking lightly as her tongue explored him.

“Guh.”

Her chuckle was almost silent, but the vibrations from it were amazing over his aching flesh, and he grunted, fingers tightening in her hair. It had been a long time since his last relationship (if one could call it that), and to be here, with the woman he’d quietly loved from afar for so long, still felt dreamlike. He hoped he never lost that feeling.

Rose pulled her hand and mouth off of him then, grinning at his involuntary protest. “I’m just making myself comfortable,” she soothed, shifting around to settle herself between his thighs, kneeling over him. “I suggest you hold on.”

This time, when she lowered her mouth to him, it was without any of the languidness of before- taking half his length in on the first pass, she began a seemingly-complicated rhythm of bobbing and sucking, her hand pumping the parts her mouth couldn’t reach, all of which worked to short-circuit his brain and send him spiraling towards the abyss.

“Oh, Rose,” he groaned, fisting the pillows next to his head, trying to keep himself from spending too quickly. “So good. Too good.” The suction she was able to generate was incredible, his eyes rolling back into his head in delight.

In response she just took him deeper, his tip bumping the back of her throat twice before she pulled off, coughing. “Okay, can’t do that,” she giggled, breathing deeply. “How do you want to…”

He had to fight to open his eyes, especially once she returned to sucking at his head. “Ngh.” Thought was difficult, all his senses focused on the pleasures of her mouth, but he decided he didn’t want to come alone. “Fuck me.”

“You sure? I can-”

Malcolm reached for her, catching her hand and using it to pull her up his body. “Please.”

Straddling his hips, she rose up for a moment to line him up before sinking down onto him, taking all of him in one go. “Mhmm.”

“Yes,” he grunted, gripping her hips and starting to thrust up. “C’mon.” She started slow, her movements more of a rock then a thrust, before she leaned forward, bracing her hands above his shoulders and dipping her head to kiss him. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips, drowning in pleasure. “So much.”

“I love you too.”

She wormed her tongue into his mouth, flicking it against his own as her hips began to pick up speed, rolling over him in a delicious counterpoint to his own thrusting. Letting go of her hips he wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her against him, as his right hand slipped between them, finding her clit and rubbing it desperately.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Rose keened softly, head bowing as she rode him harder. “Mhmm, yeah.”

“Come, Rose,” he pleaded, rhythm stuttering as he fought to hold on, waiting for her to catch up. “Please.”

“Hang on.”

He stopped instantly, and panting for breath, she shifted over him, straightening up and setting her hands on his chest as she got her feet under her. His limbs trembled, unsure how much more he could take, but she tossed her head, hair flying behind her, and opened her eyes.

“Okay.”

And then she was riding him, all finesse lost in favor of chasing release. For a moment he forgot to start moving himself, captivated by her beauty- her sweat-slick skin shining in the moonlight, the building pleasure on her face, her breasts bouncing with the force of her movements.

“Malcolm,” she whimpered, and he sprang to life, one hand returning between them to pleasure her, the other reaching up to pinch and twist a nipple just the way she liked.

She broke with a sob, freezing above him, head thrown back, body shaking with the strength of her release, before collapsing down onto him. Rolling her onto her back and settling above her, he hooked one knee in the crook of his elbow and began to move. It only took another half-dozen or so thrusts before it was his turn, gasping her name as he finally found sweet release, sagging down to cover her body with his own.

“I love you,” she whispered, face buried in his shoulder.

“I love you too,” he sighed, enjoying the looseness in his muscles and peace in his heart. Nothing in the world felt better against his skin than hers, wrapped up in each other as they were, and he couldn’t have left her in that moment for anything.

She pressed a kiss to his clavicle, one arm weakly wrapping around his waist. “We’re gonna have a brilliant life.”

“Fucking right we are.”

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

3 notes · View notes

over30hormonelike-blog · 4 years

Text

Over 30 Hormone Support

This article provides you a comprehensive review of Over 30 Hormone Solution, I hope this review will help you understand what it is all about.

Hormonal imbalance can affect almost everyone at some point in their life with women being the more vulnerable group.

When you are affected by hormonal imbalance, you either have too much or too little of a certain hormone.

Even small changes within a hormone can have serious effects throughout your whole body.

Let’s think of hormones as a Cake Recipe. Like a good recipe of cake, too much or too little of any ingredient can ruin your product.

Some hormone level fluctuates may be beyond your control; it can be due to natural aging. An unbalanced lifestyle can also cause some hormone imbalance.

However, the good news is, with good knowledge of what goes on in your body system, you can know exactly what to do about it.

With proper knowledge of the culprits that are bound to wreak havoc on your hormonal system and wellbeing, it becomes easier to identify your best remedy to balance your hormone.

What is Over 30 Hormone Solution?

Over 30 hormone solution is a program designed for women who have desperately tried to lose weight but failed each time to hit their weight loss goals.

Many people wish to lose weight, but they tend to make many mistakes despite faithfully sticking to their weight loss plan. If this sounds like you then this program will help shed light on your mistakes and avoid repeating them in the future.

This program assured to help you build a solid foundation for safe and rapid weight loss by balancing your hormones.

The hormonal imbalance is closely connected to the food you eat, the weight you carry, the toxin you absorb and the stress level you put up with.

If you have any of the following symptoms, then you may be having hormonal imbalances-

Difficulty sleeping

Changes in blood pressure

Irritability and anxiety

Depression

Headaches

Blurred vision

Breast tenderness

Unexplained or excessive sweating

Changes in appetite

Deepening of the voice in females

Very dry skin or skin rashes

Unexplained weight gain or weight loss

Ways To Approach 30 Hormone Solution Method

There are two ways to approach this program-

Learn first, treat later.

Treat now, learn later

Whether you choose to go with the first or second method is entirely upon you to decide.

The endgame is the same either way: to reset hormonal balance within your body and heal it from the inside out.

1st Method: The Over 30 Hormone Solution Handbook

This section provides you with all the information about hormones, how they work, and how they influence your health. Plus, the things that affect them, so you can know how to manage your hormonal health and overall health for the long haul.

If you prefer to get the knowledge first, then this is the place to start before proceeding to the 21 Day QuickStart.

2nd Method: The 21 Day Quick Start Method

This is the blueprint for quick hormonal health gains.

If you want to start losing weight today as you continue to learn how to manage your hormonal activity, then this is the place to start.

However, whichever route you choose will land you at the results you’re looking for eventually.

The only difference is whether you’re getting the results now or later.

A Glimpse Inside Over 30 Hormones Solution Handbook

This Handbook is split into six sections. Let’s discuss what you’ll Learn when you board into this program.

Section one: All About Hormones

Hormones serve as one of the most powerful chemical substances that help to transmit a message.

They travel in your bloodstreams to tissues or organs, delivering messages that tell the organs what to do and when to do it.

So, because of their essential role in your body, it takes only a tiny amount to cause big changes in your whole body.

In the first section, you’ll learn what hormones are, why they are essential for your body and different functions of hormones.

Here Are The Topics Covered In The First Section-

What are hormones?

Functions of hormones in the body

Hormonal imbalances

Symptoms of hormonal imbalances

Culprits of hormonal imbalances

Hormonal imbalances in women

Hormones and weight loss: why you are not losing weight.

Section Two: Kickstarting The Reset

Hormonal changes affect every one of us from birth to death.

Hormones are deeply connected to us, mostly in every way, from the food we eat to the stress level we put up with.

It can affect you when you have too much or too little of certain hormones.

The key to maintaining overall health and wellness is by spotting the signs of hormonal imbalance.

In section two, you’ll find some of the most common symptoms of hormonal imbalances and natural way to reset your hormones.

Section Three: The Ancient Herbal Combinations

Many herbs and spices that we use in our daily meals can be more useful than you would have thought.

I am not talking about those fancy herbs or spices but the staple ones that are readily available in the market or kitchen.

So many of these herbs can help in restoring hormonal balance and boost your weight loss.

This section provides detailed information on the powerful herbs which can help reset your female hormones and prime your body for ultimate fat-burning.

Section Four: Hormone Support Tea Guide

According to the authors, drinking a good cup of tea before bed or in the morning will help shed some extra pounds.

It’s not a kind of caffeine-rich tea that could keep you up at night.

However, it’s a type of hormone supporting teas; it claimed to help you burn fat 2x faster naturally.

It argues that it will also help lower the levels of stress in your bodies without sedation.

Herbal teas are good for your health because they are loaded with antioxidants and other essential properties.

They can boost your overall health and minimize your risk of diseases such as heart disease and cancer etc.

According to Debbie, drinking herbal tea promote your metabolism and detoxifies your system.

Several studies also found out that drinking herbal tea can boost weight loss and help fight your belly fat.

Herbal teas are beneficial if you are trying to shed some pounds. They are rich in antioxidants, containing anti-obesity properties that help to decrease your appetite and increase your metabolic rate. Also, it prevents your body from forming a new fat cell.

The author has prepared some hormone supporting teas that will help you lose fat naturally.

It is instructed to drink them daily before bed or in the morning with two capsules of Over 30 Hormone support supplements for an extra metabolism boost.

Section Five: Ancient Herbal Cookbook

This section covers ancient herbal combinations that you can cook with your favorite foods to help accelerate weight loss.

It claimed that the knowledge about these dishes and recipes springs from a deep understanding of ancient Chinese philosophy of food and health.

Section Six: Sustaining Your Hormonal Balance

Once you have reset your hormones, the next big task is to keep it that way without suffering a relapse.

There are just a few lifestyle changes that you will need to make to ensure that you are living a hormone friendly life.

The last section of the 30 hormone solution teaches how to sustain your hormonal balance.

What Is Over 30 Hormone Support Supplement?

Over 3o hormone supplement is a combination of herbs that are known to help hormones and boost estrogen level.

Most of the ingredients found in this supplement have been used for centuries to help regulate hormones.

At some point in your life, hormonal imbalances can come hand in hand with your change of life. When hormonal imbalance hits you, you can experience symptoms like… Mood swings, irritability, brain fog, weight gain, lower libido, night sweats, poor sleep, or insomnia.

The ingredients in over 30 hormone solutions will work together to restore what has been depleted or ruined by diet, a chemical in the environment, adrenal exhaustion, and other factors.

To help you reset your female hormone and prime your body for ultimate fat burning, It suggested a supplement called “Over 30 Hormone Support.”

The Ingredients- Over 3o Hormone Support

Soy Isoflavones

Black Cohosh

Dong Quai

Licorice 1

Red Clover 1

Sage

Chasteberry

Blessed Thistle Herb Powder

Red Raspberry

Mexican Yam

Soy Isoflavones

Isoflavones belong to a group of plant-based chemicals known as phytoestrogens.

Phytoestrogens are a natural compound found in most plant-derived food in varying amounts.

They can be found in plant-based foods such as beans seeds, whole grains, soy and root vegetables, etc.

In the human body, Phytoestrogens have a complex role; it acts as a weaker form of the estrogen hormone.

In other words, eating these natural compounds may affect you in the same way as estrogen produced by the body.

Soy isoflavones are handy in the treatment of estrogen imbalances.

They can serve as a direct method of resetting hormonal imbalances and correcting any hormonal disruptions associated with it.

According to a particular study, soy isoflavones are structurally similar to endogenous estrogens, which is believed to help protect against hormone associated cancers.

Phytoestrogens are further popular for relieving uncomfortable hot flashes and other symptoms of hormonal imbalances associated with the onset of menopause.

According to medical news today, Phytoestrogens may be beneficial for women looking to rebalance their hormones as they approach menopause.

Black Cohosh

Black cohosh is a perennial herb belonging to the buttercup family. It usually grows between 3 to 8 feet in height. This herb is also known as black snakeroot or rattleweed.

Black cohosh has been used for centuries by Eastern North American to treat various conditions and carries a rich history of medical use.

Multiple records show that Native Americans started using black cohosh centuries ago for the treatment of menopause symptoms, menstrual irregularities, as well as to ease childbirth.

Today, black cohosh is a popular remedy for the symptoms associated with menopause, such as hot flashes, mood changes, night sweats, sleeping program, and even vaginal dryness.

Dong Quai

Dong Quai’s scientific name is Angelica Sinensis, but it is mostly referred to as female ginseng.

It is called so, mainly because this herb is used to keep the female reproductive system free of problems.

It has a good history too. For thousands of years, Dong Quai has been used as a medicine throughout China, Korea, and Japan.

Today, it is often recommended as a treatment for premenstrual syndrome (PMS), menstrual cramps, and other related menstruation problems, as well as hot flashes and other menopausal symptoms.

Licorice 1

Licorice is the root of glycyrrhiza; it is known for its earthy odor and sweet flavor.

This herb is mostly grown in Greece, Turkey, and Western Asia.

It can grow to about 1 meter. While licorice is best known for its use in chewy candy, it has also been used in medicine for centuries.

Different studies show that it can be used to treat cold, cough, stave off peptic ulcers, and relieve indigestion.

Most importantly, this herb is potent in reducing the occurrence of hot flashes, which make it essential in hormone health.

Red Clover 1

Red Clover is a short-lived perennial plant; it can usually grow up to 20- 80 cm tall. This herb is native to Europe, Northwest Africa, and western Asia, but it can also be found in other continents like north and south America as well.

Due to its beauty, it is used as an ornamental plant.

This herb is used in the treatment of different conditions, including symptoms of menopause, coughs, cancers, and disorders of the lymphatic system.

Red clover was historically used for conditions like asthma and bronchitis because of its tendency to relax the airways and ease coughing.

Today it is more frequently used as a key treatment for various hormonal imbalances.

Sage

Sage is another very important herb to the native American.

It’s not only beneficial for multiple health problems, but it is also believed that sage can protect against harmful spirits and draw them out of the body or soul.

Historically, this herb has been used in the preparation of many foods not just because of its amazing flavor, but it is good for your stomach, kidney, liver, lungs, and skin, and much more.

Though there is little research targeted at its uses in menopause, people popularly use sage to deal with various menopausal symptoms, including hot flashes, night sweats, and mood swings.

Its effectiveness in these areas is a good pointer to its association with hormonal balance.

Chasteberry

Chasteberry is the fruit of the chaste tree; it is sometimes called Monk’s pepper.

This plant has been used for centuries to treat numerous hormone-related gynecologic conditions.

You will find chaste berry in most of the women’s health supplements, as it is useful in treating menstrual problems, menopause symptoms, infertility, and other conditions.

Blessed Thistle Herb Powder

Blessed thistle is commonly used in the form of herbal teas as a herbal remedy for loss of appetite and indigestion.

It is also prepared to treat colds fever and cough, diarrhea, and bacterial infections. Some people use blessed thistle as a diuretic for increasing urine output, as well as for promoting the flow of breast milk in new mothers.

Red Raspberry

Red raspberry leaf has popular use in the treatment of gastrointestinal (GI) tract disorders such as diarrhea.

It is also known to eliminate symptoms of respiratory system disorders, cardiovascular problems, high blood pressure, heart failure, diabetes, vitamin deficiency, and fever.

All these are conditions that are mostly associated with hormonal imbalances in the body.

Mexican Yam

Some experts suggest using wild yam as an alternative to estrogen replacement therapy for treating symptoms of menopause. Evidence suggests that the yam may increase or stabilize estrogen levels in the body, and this helps relieve the person of the symptoms of estrogen imbalance.

Conclusion

Hormonal imbalance can cause many health issues, and it is often associated with weight gain. Correcting these imbalances is not about your willpower; it’s about understanding what’s wrong with your hormone and how to fix it with the right nutrients and exercises.

If you are looking for a step by step guide to combat hormonal imbalance and lose weight safely and naturally, then Over 30 Hormone Solution may be the right guide for you.

1 note · View note

serpent-squad · 5 years

Text

Serpent Drop | Sweet Pea x Reader

Sweet Pea has always hated the holiday season, and New Year’s is no exception. Will you and the rest of the serpents be able to make this New Year’s one to remember?

Written for Day Eight (Blitzen) of @riverdale-events Reindeer Games!

December 31st 8 a.m. BEEP BEEP BEEP

“What the hell?” Sweet Pea groans as he leans over to pull the alarm clock’s cord from the wall.

“We need to wake up sleepyhead! It’s New Year’s eve.” Sweet Pea shoved his head back under the blankets. “I thought we could get a group together and head to the city to see the ball drop?” Y/n said pulling the blanket from his face and flashing your best puppy dog eyes. You knew this was a long shot, but waking up early gave you more opportunity to beg.

“You know how I feel about this time of year..” He said obviously uncomfortable, “Why don’t you just tag along with Toni and Cheryl or something? That sounds like more their kind of scene.” He got out of bed and retreated to the bathroom.

Making your way to the kitchen you decide to make Pea’s favorite breakfast—French toast. As he shut off the shower, you set the small kitchen table with two plates, a plate piled high of French toast, and started a pot of coffee. Sweet Pea gives you a sly look as he emerges from the door way.

“Smells good babe.” He says as you both slide into your normal seats across from each other. We both devoured the food and drank cups of coffee, while entertaining small talk and both clearly avoiding the question at hand, until I finally started cleaning the table to do the dishes.

“So what time did you want to leave for the city? It’s only 9:30 a.m. so we have plenty of time if you wa—”

“I’m not going y/n.”, he interrupted as he started for the door.

“What?! You were serious?”

“Yes, I don’t get the big deal. It’s just like every other Monday night.” He scoffed.

“Because I want to spend New Year’s with you!”, y/n pleaded, “Sweets what is your problem? Ever since Christmas you’ve been even more grumpy than normal?”

He sighed. “I’ve just n- never really seen the point in celebrating. When I had a family, we didn’t celebrate and then when I was six on Christmas morning I woke up and they were gone. I was all alone.” His voice cracked as he struggled to get the words out. I crossed the kitchen towards him and pulled him to sit on the couch.

“So this time of year has always been associated with pain and loneliness... I’m not usually with anyone and my relationships haven’t made it past hooks up in years. I knew it would be hard being around you because you love Christmas and holidays and I-I just didn’t want to ruin them for you with my problems.”

“Oh, Pea.” I placed my fingers on his chest and looked into those big brown eyes, “You could never bother me, and I want your problems to be my problems. The day I said yes to dating I signed up for that. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know they did that to you on Christmas..”

Sweet Pea didn’t say anything, but I felt his grip tighten on my hand, and his thumb tracing circles. I laid my head on his chest and we sat like that for a while. Until I realized what needed to be done today. Pea’s phone rang from the bedroom and as he went to answer it I shot a quick text to a group chat, that included everyone expect Sweet Pea.

Serpent Meeting, Noon, @ pop’s (Don’t tell him Fangs)

“Hey babe. Some older serpents called and they really needed my help with a job today.” He explained as he threw on his serpent jacket.

“Be safe please. And call me when you’re on the way home.”, even though you were a serpent you couldn’t help but feel anxious when Sweet Pea went on jobs.

As you made your way into the pop’s, you knew it would be empty because most people were preparing for tonight’s festivities. Jughead and Betty were sitting next to each other in a booth, no doubt working on Riverdale’s latest mystery and Toni and Cheryl were sitting across the bar from one another.

“Alright Y/N, what was so important that I had be here this early?” Cheryl retorted.

Y/N rolled their eyes, “Once Fangs and Kevin get here, I’ll tell everyone. Calm down Cheryl.”

“Early? It’s noon.” Jughead pointed out laughing.

“You and cousin Betty may stay up all hours of the night sleuthing, but some of us actually like to sleep. Plus TT kept me up last night.” Cheryl said shooting a smirk across the counter.

The group erupted with TMI’s, gags, and laughs coming from Cheryl and Toni, as Fangs and Kevin finally showed up.

“Thank god you two finally showed up!” Betty remarked, escaping the previous conversation.

“So Y/N now that we’re all here, what was the reason for this urgent serpent & co meeting?” Kevin asked.

“I’m sure you all realized how much more grumpy Sweet pea was around Christmas. And today I was begging him to come to the city with me to celebrate New Years and I finally found out why he hates the holiday season so much.”

“What does this have to do with us?” Cheryl asked, “so the giant is a little more grumpier than normal, what’s new?”, she said shrugging.

Fangs sighed. “He told you why, Y/N?” I nodded in response, averting my eyes towards the ground.

Fangs crossed the room towards me, putting his arm around and squeezing my shoulder. “Hey, I’ve never known him to tell any of his exes about that, he must really love you, ya know that right?”, he whispered in my ear.

“I do. Thank you Fangs. And that’s why I need all of your help. I want to show Sweet Pea just how loved he really is by the family, that he has right here in Riverdale.”, I said.

“What did you have in mind?”, Betty asked.

“I thought we could throw our own New Year’s party.. at possibly Thistle house?”

“Of course.” Toni replied. “At least I get to throw a party I guess.” Cheryl added in.

“Great. So, we’ll need some decorations, and of course drinks. It is New Year’s after all.” Kevin stated, “Fangs and I can take care of getting that stuff.”

“I had an idea for a makeshift ball drop.. I know we could just watch it on tv but I feel like actually having one in person would give a better effect. I saw some tutorials online that said something about wrapping paper and a foam ball.” I confessed.

“Jug and I can help with that. I have some left over Christmas wrapping that we could use. ”, Betty suggested.

We all left Pop’s with plans, supplies to gather, and agreed to meet at Thistle house two hours later. Betty, Jughead, and I head to her house to work on the makeshift ball drop.

“The tutorial said we should glue strips of the foil wrapping paper onto the ball. It recommended covering it in glitter for an even better effect.”, I said, “which I was almost positive you would already have some laying around, Betty.”

“I’m sure I have some around here.” She said as she started digging through her desk drawers.

“Then Jughead once we get to Thistle house, I’ll need your help to suspend the ball from the ceiling using an eye screw and a pulley to control it.”

“Can do.” Jughead smirked, as betty and I got busy covering the foam ball.

We were the last group to show up to Thistle house. Toni and Cheryl had invited some other serpents and Kevin and Fangs had brought decorations and alcohol for the party. Everyone was decorating the huge living room and parts of the backyard.

“Wow guys! This looks amazing.. Thank you, really. This means a lot to me.” , I said looking around at all the work they had put in.

“We bought some snacks, plenty of alcohol, and even some fireworks for tonight.” Kevin bragged.

Jughead and Kevin got to work to hang the ball from the patio overhang in the backyard. Cheryl even brought out a spotlight to illuminate the ball during the drop. Everything for tonight was falling into place.

“So how are you planning to get him here?”, Betty asked.

I paused and glanced towards Toni. “I was thinking you could call him and come up with something to get him over here?”

“Say no more.”, Toni smirked as she pulled out her phone.

Serpents had starting showing up around nine p.m. And just like clockwork, I got a text from Pea right after Toni called him.

Otw to Toni’s babe. Be home soon

We made sure everyone’s vehicles were parked out back and the music wasn’t too loud while we waited for him. As the roar of his engine came down the road and pulled in the drive way, I got everyone situated in the living room out of sight of the front door.

BANG BANG BANG

“Alright Topaz. Where is this emergency? I have to be home soon.”, Pea explained.

“Why?”

“I don’t really care about New Year’s but it means a lot to y/n so I want to be there.”, he said.

“Aw—”

“Don’t start with me. You want my help or not?” He retorted cutting her off.

“C’mon, it’s in the living room.”

As soon as I heard his voice I started questioning everything. Did I make the right choice? Is he going to hate this? Will this make him feel even more lonely? It didn’t really matter now, his footsteps were fast approaching the living room and there was no time for second thoughts.

“What the hell is this?”Sweet Pea asked gesturing to the silver and gold streamers hanging in between him and the living room.

Jughead flicked the lights on and the crowd erupts with cheers. As Fangs runs towards his best friend bursting through the curtain of streamers and jumping on him. “Happy New Year’s!”

The room filled with laughter as the two serpents fell to the floor, some joining in and jumping on the boys, and the party was in full force. Sweet Pea managed to get up and escaped Fangs’ grip, and we made eye contact from across the room. His long legs took no time to make the strides in my direction.

“You.. this is what you’ve been doing all day while I was gone?” He smirked as he put his arms around my waist.

“Maybe, but I can’t take all the credit.”

“Who else would do this for me?”, he asked.

“Oh I don’t know. The bonkers serpent who attacked you when you came in the living room, or the girl who got you here, or even Cheryl who volunteered her house, or Betty and Jughead that helped me with a big project today.” He laughed as I listed off the other people who helped, “Your family, Sweets, that’s who.”

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead as he whispered in my ear. “I love you y/n. I can’t promise I’ll ever love the holidays but with you by my side, they will be a lot more bearable.”

We found the rest of our friends, and spent the night dancing and drinking. Playing party games with other serpents, sitting around the fire, shooting off fireworks, and all the while him not letting you out of arms reach. At about 11:50 the alarm on my phone went off to remind me about the ball drop.

“What was that?”, Pea asked.

Toni heard the alarm and went to find Cheryl.

CLINK CLINK CLINK

Cheryl tapped a fork against her glass and yelled over the music. “Everyone go to the backyard for Sweet Pea’s surprise from Y/N.”

“What’s going on?” Pea asked. I grabbed his hand and pulled him out the door into the backyard. Kevin turned on the spotlight to illuminate the makeshift ball. Sweet Pea’s face lit up when he noticed the double headed serpent emblem drawn onto the sparkling ball.

“I know it doesn’t quite compare to the real deal, but we tried to make it special? I thought if I couldn’t bring you to the city, I’d bring the ball drop to Riverdale.”

Sweet pea sighed. “It’s perfect y/n. This is so much better than anything the city could offer.” He said as he pulled you into his chest.

Fangs came up from behind and squeezed between us. “Three minutes until the ball drop lovebirds!”

“What’re you doing over here? Where’s Kevin?” Sweet Pea asked and Fangs was gone again.

Pea laughed as Fangs ran frantically looking for Kevin. We went back to holding onto each other, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of this morning. How broken and sad he felt, thinking back on how holidays made him feel.

“I hope you’ve had fun tonight, Sweets.” I said.

“Are you kidding? This is the best New Year’s I’ve had… well, ever y/n.” Pea gulped. “And you’ve done the most of anyone to ensure that. So I do owe you a thank you. No matter how grumpy I got, you didn’t give up. You showed me who really cares, and you’ve showed me who my real family is.”

I was in awe. Sweet Pea had finally realized he did have a family. Maybe not blood, but he had a group of people who would go to the ends of the Earth for him. Before I could say anything, everyone started counting down as Jughead lowered the Serpent ball down from the top.

Five…Four…Three…Two… One…

Sweets grab you by your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The smile that spread across his lips was enough to melt you into a puddle on the floor. Everyone around you erupted into cheers and hollers to ring in the new year. Your lips met as you felt the caress of his warm lips press against yours. Softly at first and then with a swift gradation of intensity as you parted your lips, biting his lip you pulled away with a smirk. Sweet Pea knew how quickly he could get you going.

“Happy New Year babe.” He said planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Happy New Year, Sweets.” I said without being able to contain the grin from my face. “I have a feeling 2019 is going to be our year.”

A loud boom brought them from their trance. Fangs, Kevin, and Jughead were on the other side of the back lawn shooting off fireworks.

“C’mon man, you gotta do the finale!” Fangs yelled.

Any feedback is appreciated! :) Hope everyone had a great holiday season and has a happy 2019 ♡

#Sweet Pea #Sweet Pea x Reader #Riverdale #riverdaleevents #Sweet Pea Imagine #Sweet Pea Fluff #Riverdale fluff #fangs fogarty #southside serpents imagine #fanfic #riverdale fanfic #requests

251 notes · View notes

setaripendragon · 5 years

Text

Freedom to Chuse

Sorry I haven’t been posting much lately. I’ve fallen head-first into a new fandom, and most everything I’ve been writing has been such self-indulgent nonsense that I daren’t post it XD I think I’m starting to get it out of my system, though, so hopefully there might even be some other Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell fics from me soon. I finished watching the series for the second time a couple of days ago, and this just sort of poured out of me at 3am. I don’t know why, but I actually really like Sir Walter? Idk, maybe it’s that bit at the end where he’s like ‘Emma has said she’d rather be dead than as she is now, so I’m going to do everything in my power to help her, even if it might kill her’, like dayum son, now that is how you respect a lady’s autonomy. (I know he kind of cocked that up, too, but, idk, so many people in that show were running around not giving two figs what anybody else wanted, it felt poignant all the same.) So, yeah, post-series (with some influence from the book which I’m currently half-way through), Walter/Emma renegotiating their marriage after everything.

Lady Emma Pole – Miss Emma Wintertowne, as she thought she might rather be from now on – sat at her vanity, waiting for her maid to come and help her begin packing for her trip to the continent. There was a tentative knock at the door, and Emma sighed, irrationally irritated by the delicate caution everyone seemed to be treating her with of late. “Yes, yes, Sarah, come in.” She called impatiently.

The door clicked open, and an entirely unfeminine voice said; “It is not Sarah.” Emma startled, and turned her head to see Walter standing in the doorway, an oddly sheepish, wry little smile curling his mouth. The tentative humour was an expression that suited him, Emma thought, but it slipped away almost as soon as she had thought it, replaced with a touch of strain about the eyes and lips pressed into a tight line. He cleared his throat softly. “May I come in?” He requested, and only then did Emma realise that he had, indeed, been staying just the other side of the threshold.

“Yes, of course.” Emma replied, feeling just a little uncertain herself, now. True, this was her room, and true, her earlier permission had been for Sarah, and not for him, but… It was Walter’s house, and she had given permission for him to enter.

Walter stepped inside, reached for the door as if to close it behind him, and then hesitated. He looked to Emma, one eyebrow raised, indicating the door in question. Asking… for permission? Emma was not quite sure, but she nodded regardless, and Walter swung the door shut gently, before proceeding a little further into the room. His expression settled, then, smoothed out, and Emma recognised it as the one he often wore in the mornings, on his way out the door to parliament. It was how he looked when he was readying himself for a fight, if only a verbal one, and it made Emma tense up in answer.

Perhaps Walter noticed, because he was half way through saying “I wanted t-” before he stopt mid-word, and closed his mouth so fast his teeth clicked, looking unsettled. He cast about for a moment, leaving Emma more tense than ever and even more bewildered, before he asked, in an unusually quiet sort of voice; “Perhaps I- That is, may I please sit?” He asked, gesturing to a neglected little chair in the corner.

Emma blinked, thrown once again entirely off-kilter, but nodded slowly. Walter retrieved the chair from its corner, and sat. There was a little less than half the room between them, still, and Emma began to realise that everything she had taken for a very strange hesitance in a man who was master of his own home was actually consideration. He had not entered her space without an explicit invitation, he had not closed the door – and sealed her only escape route – without her permission, and he was now keeping a distance between them, sitting to avoid looming over her, hesitating to speak while she was still so tense.

It was a stilted attempt at kindness, and Emma felt herself bending in the face of it, if only a little. “What is it, Walter?” She asked, trying to gentle her tone in turn, even if she wasn’t at all sure she succeeded.

Walter tried for a smile, although it sat uneasily on his face. “Ah, I have come to apologise.” He said, simple and to the point, but it still made Emma’s jaw clench. Apologies were worse than useless to her, and she did not care to hear them, but before she could say as much, Walter raised his hands, palm out, to stop her. Emma might not have, even then, except the gesture was eerily reminiscent of a surrender, and it stalled her just long enough for him to say; “Please, my d- Emma, if I may- please, hear me out.”

He was begging. Awkward as a man entirely unaccustomed to begging, but still sincere. She could tell it was sincere, because even though she didn’t speak for nearly a full minute, watching him in confusion and suspicion, he didn’t press his point. He waited, once again, for her permission. “Alright.” She agreed, slumping back in her chair and bracing herself. She could at least hear him out. His consideration for her had earned him that much in turn, she supposed.

Walter took a deep breath, and then began to speak. It had the air of a rehearsed speech, but Emma suspected it was not so much planned as simply something that he had been thinking over for a long time – perhaps all day – trying and retrying his words until he had a more solid idea of the shape of his arguments.

“I know it does you little good now, and I am not- That is to say, I have not come here in any way expecting your forgiveness. But I must at least tell you how… how desperately sorry I am for my part in all you have suffered.” He began, and then paused. He could not meet her eyes, Emma noticed. He was speaking mostly to the wall over her shoulder, hands pressed together as if in prayer between his knees, elbows braced upon his thighs.

It took another cleared throat before he could continue. “I will offer you no justifications or platitudes, I know we’re both aware that I thought I was doing the best thing I could, at the time, but-” His eyes flickered to hers for a brief moment over a rueful grimace. “But I was wrong. I could have done better, I should have been a better husband to you. I should have listened, I should not have jumped to conclusions, I should not have trusted Norrell. I should not have prevented Mrs Strange from visiting, I should not have confined you.” He paused, head tilted a little, and then tried for a smile. “I will not say I should not have sent you to Starecross, because I rather think that was one of the better choices I made, even if it was not wholly mine, nor did I have any idea how beneficial it would be in the end.”

Emma snorted, moved to humour even if it was of a dark sort, and she thought she saw Walte’s smile turn relieved before he ducked his head to hide it. “It was not as though I could have told you what was happening, even had you been listening.” She pointed out. It was not exactly forgiveness, but she could not deny that she could understand, if only begrudgingly, why had had acted as he had. “And I was…” She paused, and tried to find the right word. “…a little erratic in my behaviour.”

“You were desperate.” Walter interjected, in the tone of one dismissing a point raised by the opposition.

Emma looked at him for a long moment, long enough to have his eyebrows rising in confused surprize. It almost made her smile, although there was a sardonic twist to her lips that ruined the expression, she thought. “So were you.”

Walter laughed at that, a tiny huff of bitter amusement as he dropped his head again to stare down at his hands. “Perhaps so, but still, I- I find myself running back over the things I did and the choices I made, and seeing- seeing so many better options. I should have trusted you, should have trusted that you were not simply lost to rationality, that you knew your own mind, and if- if you were having problems, then you might know how best to fix them, not I.”

Emma found she had nothing to say to that, because he was right, and they both knew it. He caught her eye for a moment, and smiled again, bitter and knowing, and nodded. “As I said, I do not ask for your forgiveness. I do not deserve it. I only wished to tell you that I will endeavour to do better from now on.”

That made Emma frown, because she thought she had made it clear, this morning, that she would not be staying in Harley Street, that she would not be staying with him. She was free of the Gentleman with the Thistle-Down Hair, and by god, she would be free of all others, too, even her husband. “If this is your way of attempting to convince me to stay-” She began, heatedly.

“It is not.” Walter interrupted. Emma glared at him for that, but now he was meeting her stare, level and solemn. It was not a challenge, not quite, but it was a sort of defiance. It felt like he was daring her to find any hint of deceit in his countenance, and she had to admit she couldn’t.

“What is it, then?” Emma demanded, feeling frustrated and confused. “What do you want?”

Walter sighed again, and Emma glared at him impatiently. “I want you to know that I never wished for your confinement. I never desired your obedience.” Emma scoffed, and Walter shook his head in a frustration of his own. “Yes, sometimes I may have wished that you would listen to me, but do not mistake a momentary frustration for any sort of desire for your subservience!” He snapped, startling Emma. His loss of temper seemed to startle him as well, and he slumped back in his chair and ran his hands over his face. “Forgive me, Emma, I did not mean to shout.” He sighed.

Emma considered that, and then decided rather than offering forgiveness, she would ignore the loss of composure. “You locked me up when I would not do as you wished.” She pointed out.

“Because I was afraid you would do yourself harm.” Walter replied wearily. “But… Emma, before things turned- I loved you for your spiritedness, for your boldness and, yes, even your defiance.” He smiled then, such a gentle and tender expression that Emma found herself utterly struck by it. “If you wish to go to the continent, Emma, I will not stop you. If you wish to never step foot in this house again, I will not make you. If- If you wish never to see my face again, I shall not- I shall not impose upon you.” That last caused him pain just to utter, Emma could see it, could hear it in the way his voice broke, and she swallowed against her own emotions as they tried to rise to meet his. “But I could not bear the thought of you leaving while you still believed that I-” He stopt and shook his head, apparently unable to find words.

Still, Emma thought she understood what he was trying to say. “And if I wished to slit my own wrists again?” She asked him, coldly.

Walter’s head jerked up, eyes wide with very real fear, and Emma almost felt sorry for doing this to him, but she could not – she would not – let him believe that he was not her gaoler by telling himself pretty lies about how he would safeguard her free will, so long as what she willed was acceptable. “E-Emma?” He asked, voice shaking.

“If I wished, sir, to take my own life, would you stop me?” She demanded. And then she rose to her feet, unable to remain sitting, and began to pace. “If I wished to- to take up magic as a hobby, would you stop me? If I wished to bathe naked in the Thames, would you stop me?”

“I do not-” Walter began, looking thoroughly taken-aback, and Emma was suddenly furious with him for it. She strode across the room to him, stood over him, looming quite deliberately in the way he refused to do to her, and stared him down.

“What are the limits, sir? Where is the line? You’ll respect my freedom, you say, but is it truly unconditional, or is it simply a greater degree of freedom, until? Until what? Until I hurt myself again? Until I shame you? Until I harm you? Until I harm someone else? At what point will you decide, once again, that I am clearly mad and should be locked away at the mercy of men and strangers?!”

“I-” Walter began, and then stopt, looking deeply distressed. “I do take your point, Emma.” He acknowledged carefully, and Emma wanted to scream at him. “But you- No, that is not- For god’s sake, Emma, what would you have me say?”

“The truth.” Emma demanded. “Be honest with me, Walter. How far does your belief in my freedom extend?”

Walter ran his hands over his face, looking rather wild-eyed. “It is not as though it is solely up to me, Emma. At least some of the things you asked about are crimes. Good Lord, what do you expect would happen if you tried to shoot someone again?! They’d hang you!”

“I’m not asking about them!” Emma yelled, sudden and far louder than anything else they’d said so far, even when their tempers got the better of them. Walter flinched. Emma took a breath, and lowered her voice. “I’m not asking the law, Walter, I’m asking you.” Her voice shook, and she hated the weakness it betrayed. “Do you truly wish to champion my freedom to act as I chuse, or is it simply that now that you expect me to once again act within the bounds you have determined as reasonable, you feel you can offer me the illusion of it and so gain yourself some peace of mind?”

Walter did not answer straight away, only staring at her with wide, stunned eyes. Emma was content to wait. She did not want him to blurt out the first answer he wanted to be true. She wanted him to truly think about it, to question his own resolve now, and not at a moment later, when she would be depending on him to have her back, and he would falter.

In that moment, she had a revelation of her own. She wanted him to be sincere. It was a shock, because in the wake of her imprisonment and her newly regained freedom, she had forgotten a time, before the enchantment, before magic, that Walter had been… someone she had thought would be very easy to love. It was different, now, of course. Then, she would not have railed so fiercely against restrictions of any sort, she would have accepted his authority over her as her husband because that was simply how things were done. She could not accept anything of the sort, now, but she was not a different person. She was not so thoroughly changed that there wasn’t a small kernel of longing in her, for the sort of companionship and affection they had shared so briefly before the enchantment took its toll.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Walter moved. Her jaw sagged open as he shifted forwards, slid off the chair entirely, and lowered himself to one knee before her. “Emma.” He began, his voice suffused with feeling. “I cannot promise that I will not argue with you, that I will not fight you with words if ever you chuse to do something I do not agree with. But I give you my word that I’ll never again attempt to restrain you by force, no matter what you chuse to do.”

Emma’s eyes stung, but she found herself smiling regardless. She felt shaky and giddy and a little wild. She reached out and brushed her fingers over Walter’s cheek, her heart skipping a beat when he turned his face into her touch just a little. “Good. You know, I think I should enjoy arguing with you, on occasion.” She mused through a growing smile.

Walter laughed, a little shaky himself, but he was also smiling up at her with a joyful light in his eyes. “I am at your service.” He promised, half joking, and half very much not. Emma thrilled with it, biting her lip on a grin that was taking a turn towards the wicked, and then bent down to kiss him.

#Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell #Sir Walter Pole #Lady Emma Pole #Is there a ship name for them?#Walter/Emma

11 notes · View notes

soldierofjoy · 4 years

Text

Tagged by @certified-kindergartner

Rules: Answer 20 questions, tag 20 bloggers you’d like to get to know better (do I even know 20 people)

Name: Robert

Nickname: Bob (Soldier/Nergi on Discord)

Zodiac sign: Cancer

Height: 5′6 or 7 or something I thiiiiiink...

Languages spoken: English

Nationality: American, Michigan lower peninsula

Favorite season: Either summer or winter because the spring and fall are just wet, cold, and muddy here and nobody ever remembers how to drive. Also, the roads are terrible.

Favorite flower: Sunflowers, If i had to pick. I’m also actually very fond the local “weed” flowers around here: Nightshade, dandelions, thistles, and the flowers on the water lilies by the lake.

Favorite scent: Campfires and barbecues. Always means that it’s time to relax, and everyone is on a vacation.

Favorite color: Red, then black, white, then blue.

Favorite animal: Doggo

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Hot chocolate.

Average hours of sleep: 5ish with an alarm, 9 with no alarm

Dog or cat person: Dog. Need a dog in the house. After my first dog died, coming home from school for a week and not being greeted at the door was wretchedly depressing. Getting my current beast cured that right away, because puppy.

Number of blankets you sleep with: In Michigan, we can have winters in the negatives (rarely) and summers in the high 80′s fahrenheit, so between 1 and 4 with a big 20 lb weighted one on top which is amaaaaaazing. I’ll always open my window to watch lightning storms though, no matter the temperature outside :P

Dream trip: Places that are broken, abandoned, or old. Castles, ruins, old military bases, even museums. I would also like to visit Pompeii and the Milan Cathedral.

Blog established: I think it was 2018, if not 2017

Number of followers: 10-ish and none of them are real people.

Random fact: Since I found this site I managed to realize that I was male-leaning nonbinary and definitely attracted to all genders, learned a bunch of cool stuff from cool people about gender, attraction, psychology and even ADHD which I have pretty hard, and made some absolutely amazing friends as well who actually get me. Having been treated like an annoyance for trying to share all the things I love with the people around me (who at the time were fellow students) it’s an amazing feeling to find other people who don’t make me feel ashamed for being who I am and liking what I do. It’s a feeling that brought me out of a really nasty place in my head, and I’m glad I found those friends every day.

Also I have assisted hosts in successfully defeating Darkeater Midir as a phantom in Dark Souls 3 188 times on Xbox and I’m very proud of that beacuse it’s one of the most notoriously difficult bosses of the series and I figured out all of his patterns so well I can beat him without taking damage. Got a lot of positive messages from those people I helped. Praise the motherf*ckin’ SUN \[T]/

Since I don’t have any good friends on tumblr who haven’t done this, haven’t been tagged, or that I don’t know about already, I’ll just make my friends from discord do it lol

#tag meme #about me

1 note · View note

post-itpenny · 5 years

Note

(lap) for Peregrine and Phoebe

Thistle

This turned out so much longer than I planned and is quite full of angst and a good few flashbacks. Enjoy!

Vespers always loved visiting the D’Vitt family home. So much life and family filled the place, whenever he visited even before marrying Cosmos he always felt so welcomed my Stripes and Mama Carol. Vespers could guarantee whenever he came he could feel excepted and at ease.

Except today.

Vespers was a nervous wreck, pacing the floor and giving updates as one of the few allowed inside the room. The baby was coming.

More than once Stripes had to give Vespers a firm shake just to make sure the poor guy had not passed out standing up and Maggie had to stop him from demanding a fifth cup of coffee to steady his nerves. Eventually he did not leave the room and they all knew it must be time.

So everyone waited.

Including the three who had just arrived.

Peregrine did not like the D’Vitt family home. So noisy and full of people. He kept getting odd looks and did not understand why the rudeness. He did not feel welcomed in the least bit.

Juno quickly left to go find someone who could give an update and Lyra was pulled aside by Lydia.

Peregrine frowned, he had never really been one for intermixing however it would be hypocritical to say otherwise. He had not originally approved of his sister-in-law’s choice of mate but Lyra would have defended her twin to the bitter end. If he was being honest in the end of it all came his nephew whom Peregrine has to admit he had a soft spot for, the whole family did really.

Peregrine sat in a chair away from the other’s, not really wishing to speak with anyone. They were all caught in their own conversations anyways. Maggie walked into the room and took one look at him before bolting back out. At one point his sister of all people came into the room. Magpie gave a small smile and moved as if to come sit by him, Peregrine in turn glared, he had no desire to be anywhere near her still. Not if he could help it.

Magpie seemed to deflate a little before a tall woman took her elbow and guided Magpie off to another group.

Peregrine tried his best to ignore his sister’s chatter. How did she fit so well here?

Peregrine left the room without a glance towards Magpie, soon finding himself in an empty hallway with a single chair across from a mirror.

Peregrine slumped down into the chair with a huff, looking across at the clown that stared back, his reflection. Peregrine grimaced, he couldn’t stand his reflection, couldn’t stand the scare that ran up one side of his face. He had Magpie to thank for that.

She had gone mad, there was no other way to describe the thing that was charging at him. Magpie was a thousand things at once and all of them raving mad. Scales, fur, eyes, teeth, many legs, or only wings, as if she was every creature in existence but then none at all. Peregrine braced himself as she crashed into him. Every sinew of muscle fighting to keep her in place.

There was a hand waving in Peregrine’s face.

“Hey there! What’s got you over here all by yourself?”

Peregrine looked up to the smiling face of Aster. They had not really ever talked though he had heard from Vespers via his phone calls to Juno and Lyra that he was a clown of cheerful disposition and more importantly Vespers’ father-in-law.

Peregrine straightened up, “I’m waiting, same as everyone else of course.”

Aster chuckled as he scratched the back of his head, “I mean by yourself though. You seem like a guy with something on your mind.”

Peregrine glanced away, “nothing is on my mind that makes for conversation.”

Aster’s smile seemed to falter a little, “well if you would like you can join us if you would like. I’m sure it won’t be too much longer of a wait. That’s a nice tattoo by the way.”

Peregrine looked down at his hand, the outline of a thistle on his left hand. “It’s the family tattoo…. the baby will be allowed one…. when it’s ready of course. You have to earn it, a symbol of adulthood.”

“But Maggie has one doesn’t she? Jelly told me she did.”

Peregrine flinched, “my sister vouched for her” he sneered.”

He found the red headed thing under Juno’s bed. He had heard his daughter talking to someone and opened the bedroom door to find her. The thing reeked of Magpie, how? She was so human yet so not. A deadlight in a human body, an abomination.

Peregrine closed his eyes at the memory. That was the first time Vespers had ever argued with anyone actually. The first time and it was with his father. Peregrine learning his children had been visiting their aunt, sneaking her ward into his home. He felt so betrayed.

Juno had enough respect to listen to her father. Vespers wouldn’t speak to him for a week after.

“You don’t particularly care for your sister do you?” Aster questioned.

Peregrine snorted, “not particularly no I don’t. I see you all do however.”

Aster’s smile wavered again. So much venom in Peregrine’s voice, so much bitterness.

“I understand you have a history, but today is not about that, isn't it?”

Peregrine looked to Aster in surprise, seeming like he was somewhat offended.

“It’s not about any of us,” Aster continued, “it’s bout the boys. We’re going to be grandfather’s Peri- well I already am one but I get to be a grandfather to someone new!”

Peregrine flinched at the nickname. Only three had ever been allowed to call him that, and one of them was dead now.

Aster brightened, reaching up one sleeve to produce of all things a thistle. It was beautiful in color, a rich purple.

“Nobility, courage, and loyalty-“

“In the face of treachery.” Peregrine finished, “how did you know?”

Aster smiled and handed Peregrine the flower. “Well flowers are a thing for me. Got to pass that down to my son Pepper, Cosmos takes after his mom a bit more if I’m honest. What do you think this one will be like? The baby I mean.”

“....... I just hope she’s not like her great aunt.”

“Oh.” Aster said, unsure how to really respond.

“No I mean my sister’s talent for creation runs in the family. Our elder will actually be visiting soon I expect, you’ll see what I mean then….. most of them die young, the one’s like him….. or just… are lost.”

“Was Magpie lost? Was that the problem?”

Peregrine was struggling to hold the thing that was once Magpie in place. The ground cracked around them, the sky seemed to warp and change colors like a glass prism. Around them were loud booms like a crack of sonic thunder and he found himself wondering in that moment if she was trying to tear the world apart in her insanity. But he had to stop her, keep her from getting to their father again. His broken body behind Peregrine as their mother held tightly to him. Claws reached out and raked down his face, it felt like fire burning into his skin.

Aster had a hand on Peregrine’s shoulder, but he did not say anything. Peregrine shook in anger. He knew their parents forgave her but why? She ruined their father’s leg, she tried to kill him. Their mother-

Peregrine had a mouth full of dust, gravel cutting into his hands. She towered over their parents, reaching to take hold of their mother’s mask and pull it off.

Magpie shrieked in pain. The skin of her hands burning black as if set on fire. It was a good thing really, it brought her back to her senses, but not before the world was crashing down on them.

His best friend died that day. He had come to help bring Magpie home, and he died.

All his children did was cry to see their aunt.

His son grew to be bitter with him, leave home and visit that killer whenever he wished. Feed her and keep her company in a prison when she should have vanished to nothing.

But now here she was. Magpie was living and happy. His son couldn’t stand him, his wife was at the end of her patience, his daughter going against his wishes at every turn.

Peregrine looked up to the mirror in front of him and wondered when he had started crying.

“I guess she was lost.” He said at long last.

“But she’s found now,” Aster observed.

Peregrine gave a deep sigh, feeling the weight of many long years with it. “Yes….. I guess she is.”

Peregrine stood up and smoothed his hair before frowning at his reflection. “I need a haircut.”

“Or this,” Aster said as he offered Peregrine a hair tie.

Yes that would work.

Lyra, as it turned out, liked his ponytail. Peregrine has been brought back to the others by Aster. Lydia and her mother-in-law having gone to help with the delivery. Peregrine was not one for conversation, he used to be he vaguely remembered. Far more than Magpie who seemed to be eager to be friends with everyone. Peregrine eyed the long red gloves she wore that hid her scars from the world. He felt a twinge of jealousy, he could never hide his.

Vespers eventually emerged looking as if on cloud nine, and covered in coffee.

“I thought you were cut off?” Juno questioned.

Vespers grinned as his wings unfolded and he proceeded to unbutton his shirt from the back. It was a clever trick when a normal shirt was not an easy option.

Vespers took his shirt off to reveal a thistle tattooed directly over his heart. A member of the D’Vitt’s questioned the tattoo before Juno proudly pulled her own shirt up just enough to see the thistle that graced the side of her ribcage. Magpie took off her own jacket to show the thistle on her shoulder and Cosmos’ sister convinced Maggie to unbutton her dress just enough to show the thistle that was etched up her spine.

Peregrine could see just the edge of a nasty scar on Maggie’s back. He looked away to Lyra and his eyes fell on the high collar of her dress, hiding the scars on her neck.

Peregrine, in that single moment, felt ... ashamed.

He had done that, not directly but it was ultimately his fault. Magpie might have scarred herself and him. But he, Peregrine, has caused scars of his own.

And Magpie had the decency to be sorry about her’s….. was she the bigger person then? When did that happen?

“Dad show yours!” Vespers demanded.

Peregrine looked at his son and was surprised to see a smile being directed at him. No anger, no persecution, his son was genuinely smiling at him.

Peregrine held out his hand to show off his tattoo. Five thistles, there was something about it that made him feel a swell of pride.

Vespers as it turned out, was there to bring back the grandfathers.

It was a girl.

A tiny little girl that was curled up in her father’s arms. Peregrine cried for the second time that day.

Later, after Blackwood had come and gone along with everything that was a result of his visit. Peregrine found himself with his granddaughter in his arms, resting in his lap. They had named her Phoebe, it was perfect. And for the first time in a very, very long time. Peregrine felt at peace.

3 notes · View notes

runningwolf62 · 5 years

Text

Ah it’s Bridge to Turnabout Day! May our scheduled crying over the Fey family begin!

@wardencommanderrodimiss @pachelbelsheadcanon

On Ao3

Life at the monastery is weird and that’s by Larry’s life standards. He can tell something is bothering Elise, and there’s the nun who keeps avoiding him (which like he’d understand, girls occasionally had that response, but he had only said hi to her so who knew what that was about), not to mention it was cold!

But the snow was fun to play in (listen having a snowman outside of his little shack made it homely) and useful in landscape portraits he’d been doing. Well doing in-between being fussed over by Bikini like he was her son and reassuring Elise that he was fine being here and pretending everything was normal.

So he’s hanging out and trying to paint Dusky Bridge because that is just the challenge in painting perspective he needs. Elise has been distracted all today, in fact earlier when he’d made a joke about their family resemblance she’d seemed to just ignore him entirely. So here he is. Painting bridges.

He only snaps out of his painting trance by the sound of voices. “Huh? Oh, uh sorry.” He doesn’t know who he’s apologizing too and then he realizes no one was speaking to him. They’re blocking his view though.

“Can you move? You’re standing right in my view!” He calls and the figures turn around Larry’s soul leaves his body in that moment. Of course this was weird enough to get Nick’s attention. He just hoped no one died. But more than that he’s three seconds from grabbing his easel and fleeing.

Maya and Nick look flabbergasted and yeah okay Larry is going to need to say something.

“Gotta run! See ya!” He scrambles to grab his things without ruining his portraits.

“Wait a minute!” Nick yells as the two rush over and he’s busted for sure. He grins sheepishly at them and then puts on a confident smile.

“Hi! I’m Laurice Deauxnim!” He offers a thumbs up too but they are not willing to play along.

“Liar!” Nick always cuts to the heart of the matter and says Larry’s greatest fear, “ You're Larry! Your clothes may change, but you're still the Butz.”

“Shut up!” Larry snaps and Nick jerks back as though startled. Maya looks equally surprised and Larry didn’t mean for that to come out so harshly.

“I’m Laurice Deauxnim. I’m just here to a sketch of the Dusky bridge.” He says firmly but he can’t look at Maya, not after last time, not after how they’d started to be friends and he’d fucked it up. He can barely look at Nick and the exasperated disgust on his face at seeing him again.

Maya laughs though, “so it really is our Larry!” She sounds delighted to see him and Larry gives her a small smile. “Though I’m not sure why he’s pretending to be someone else.”

Nick turns to him with brows raised and Larry looks down and looks away. Hot shot lawyer, doesn’t even have to ask.

“Well I- I just-“ he caves the way he always does when Nick questions him, “I just wanted to start over with a clean slate!”

“A clean slate?” Maya looks confused and concerned and Larry looks away from them to the painting of Dusky bridge.

“After that last case I realized even I didn’t like me.” He admits and thinks he sees Nick flinch slightly. The story pours out of him after that, the loss of his job, the need to remake himself, discovering The Magic Bottle and reaching out to Elise.

He can’t admit that he feels like he’ll forever be overshadowed by Nick and Edgey and that finally having a career where he’s made something of himself makes him feel like less of a failure when measured next to them is a comfort. That he feels like he’s becoming a better person. That this all spun from Warrior Cats.

“You’d make a great book salesman!” Maya says with a grin, “now I wanna get that book too!”

Larry laughs at that and relaxes some. Nick looks more thoughtful and says, “I’m proud of you. Sorry about uh, earlier.”

Larry tilts his head to think of how to respond before finally saying, “I- I get it. Like I said, I didn’t exactly like me either.”

“So you and Elise are getting along?” Maya chimes in, and Larry nods eagerly.

“She’s the most amazing person in the world! I’d follow her anywhere!”

“She is a very elegant woman,” Maya speaks only the truth and he and Nick are blessed to have her in their lives.

“Uh you want to see a picture I took of her?” he pulls it out to show Maya while Nick gives him a weird book, “don’t tell her though it’s secret.”

“Larry-”

“I’m making a drawing!” he defends himself as Maya takes the copy from him, “It’s to be a thank you present for everything she’s taught me!” To Maya he says, “you can keep it if you want I have a couple copies for references. Can’t be too careful.”

Maya nods, “it’s a great picture too! I can’t wait to see you draw it.”

“Thanks!”

Nick shoves his hands in his pockets, “still it’s hard to picture you as a children’s book artist.”

“Hey now! I graduated college with an art degree didn’t I?” Larry reaches over and pokes his arm, “big talk from the guy who thought he could be a lawyer by studying it on the side!”

Maya covers her mouth to laugh, Nick gives him a dirty look.

“And I remember you moaning through the entire final which was only half of what a book would require so-”

“I was twenty-two and stupid then!”

“Then?”

“Nick!” Maya scolds him and Nick is quick to apologize. Larry lets that one roll off him, it’s nice to be able to talk to them and tease Nick.

“Honestly I was going to wait to tell you until the book was finish and then just drop a copy on your desk. Signed and published and just tell you that way.”

Nick looks surprised, “you weren’t going to- how long have you been apprenticed under her?”

“Uh it’s February?” Larry pauses and counts back, “uh, January, December, half of November, so close to three months.” Has it really been that long? Wow. Times really flown past.

“You just weren’t going to tell me?”

“I was going to!” Once he had something to show for it. To prove this wasn’t just the latest in his string of jobs and fuckups.

“Everyone!” They all turn to see Pearl standing there bouncing on her feet.

“Hey there, squirt!” Larry teases her and she grins up at him.

“Hi Mr. Larry!” She doesn’t question why he’s here, instead she pulls herself up to her full height. “Dinner preparations are ready!”

“That’s great! I can’t wait to dig in Pearly!” Maya says excitedly and Nick murmurs in agreement.

“I’m going to the Inner Temple to fetch Sister Iris!” Pearl starts before Larry calls to her.

“Hey, that bridge is a bit dangerous, I can go.”

“No that’s okay!” Pearl smiles at them, “I want to see where Mystic Maya is going to be training! I’ll be careful!”

Larry looks to Nick and Maya as the adults in charge of Pearl and they both nod so Larry nods as well.

“We’ll try not to eat everything before you get there!” he teases as he packs up his brushes. He sees Maya and Nick glance at his canvas but neither makes a move to look at it.

“Alright let’s go,” he dusts his hands but Nick stops him.

“Wait.” His eyes are trained on Pearl as she crosses the bridge. “I’ll let her go on her own but…”

Larry nods and continues to move as though cleaning up.

“What are you doing?” Maya asks him, following him around as he pretends to pick things up.

“Kids know if you don’t think they can do something. This way Pearl doesn’t think we’re all standing around worrying over her and upset her ‘cause we don’t think she’s mature enough to cross the bridge by herself. Now it just looks like you and Nick are waiting for me.”

“When did you get good with kids?”

“I’m apprenticed to a children’s book author Nick!”

Maya sees him bend down and begin to make the snowball but only grins and winks at him. Once Pearl is safely across Nick turns away.

The snowball splatters over his neck and down his shirt and Larry takes off sprinting for the temple before Nick can register what just happened.

“What is this thistle-headed fool doing here?” Viper stopped before them and Orangestripe was ready to run but Wolf simply yawned.

“He’s visiting and telling us about Clan life.” He and a few others from Demon and Viper’s group were gathered around to listen to Orangestripe and ask him questions, “he’s not taken any prey nor is he bothering anyone. We’re just learning about our neighbors.”

Viper still looked like she’d like to claw his ears but slowly she relaxed. “Very well. Keep it that way.”

Orangestripe let out a sigh of relief and Wolf laughed while the others scattered to do various chores and likely avoid Viper’s wrath.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet. “

Orangestripe followed him unquestioningly as he led his way over to a den. An older she-cat lay there, basking in the sun and blinked at them when they arrived.

“Wolf,” she greeted him and he nodded.

“This is Orangestripe of SpiritClan.” He turned to him, “Orangestripe this is Maria. Demon’s working on adding some more Clan like roles to the group so I think she’s what your Clan calls elders?”

“Older cats who offer advice and stories and are cared for by the younger cats?” He asked.

Maria let out a soft purr, “I’m not that old yet am I?” Orangestripe shook his head quickly though he could see a touch of gray to her muzzle.

“I wanted to speak to you though,” she signaled for him to sit down, “if you have the time.”

“I’m not needed back at camp for a while,” he assured her and it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. He was helping Demon’s group yes but he was doing nothing that would harm SpiritClan. Plus he suspected Spiritstar knew where he’d been sneaking off to anyway.

“I’d like to hear your Clans stories and tell you a few of my own if that would be alright.”

“I’d love to!” Orangestripe settled on a soft patch of grass nearby, with Wolf settled near them to groom his paws while they began to pass the day away with stories.

Maya sets off for training after dinner and they all slowly scatter. Elise pauses next to Larry while Pearl bounces away to wash the dishes.

“How’s your landscape coming Larry?”

“It’s coming,” he lets out a laugh and then rubs his hands together, “I’m trying out a new style like you suggested so it’s going a bit slower but I like the effect I’m getting!”

“That’s good!” Her smile seems a bit sad and Larry’s not sure why? He lets it slide though, saying his good nights and goodbyes until it’s just him and Nick.

“So about that girl Iris.” He sees the look in Nick’s eyes and rolls his own, “no I was going to ask does she seem flighty to you too?”

Nick hesitates and Larry continues, “since Elise and I got here she’s gone out of her way to avoid me- Not a word Nick – and Bikini says she’s not normally like that and then I saw she was giving you the same runaround.”

Nick hesitates and slowly shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

Larry doesn’t need to be the turnabout terror that Nick is to sense that lie but now he’s got a new puzzle piece. Whoever Iris is she’s somehow tied to Nick.

He’s headed out the front door when the realization slaps him across the face.

She looks like Nick’s girlfriend from college.

The one that tried to kill him.

"You remind me of someone I heard stories about," Orangestripe remarked one day.

"Who is that" the elderly she-cat asked, Maria had just finished one of her stories and now it was his turn.

"Spiritstar and Cherrywing's mother," he paused and recalled the tales, "she was good leader, until the end. She made a tragic mistake and the Clan paid for it so she stepped down and her daughter became leader. Everyone remembers her as a wonderful cat who loved her clan and kin though. But one that suffered for a terrible mistake."

The she-cat blinks at him. "I never had any kits but from what I've heard I'd have been proud to call those two mine."

Orangestripe nodded and began to tell it more in-depth, what he remembered and attempted to use the skills she’d taught him. As Orangestripe spoke he noticed Demon had come over to listen, his ears pricked.

"I didn’t remember that story," he said when Orangestripe had finished.

The orange tom huffed and glanced around for Venom. "I’m not surprised, I doubt Spark would be telling the story of how SpiritClan rebuilt itself."

Demon let out a bitter laugh, "you'd be surprised Orangestripe."

A tremendous crack of lightning splits the sky and pulls him out of sleep as his room fills with light. Damn it and he’d just gotten to sleep too, after Iris didn’t show up. Larry covers his eyes and looks over to take stock of what happened.

Lit by the flames leaping off Dusky Bridge he sees someone – hood, thin, Iris? – fly over the bridge. There’s a lot to process but his first thought is I have to draw that.

He reaches for his sketchbook and colored pencils, and this is a terrible way to draw and his fingers are stiff from sleep but he sketches quickly in terror that if he moves to a different position in those few seconds he will lose his perspective.

Once he’s finished it kind of occurs to his now more awake brain he should go check that out. He finally looks away from the fire to scramble out of bed and into his warm clothes, hurrying to get over there.

By the time he arrives the fire is truly blazing and he skids to a halt a good ten feet from the bridge and can still feel the heat rolling off of it.

“Jesus,” he shakes his head at the bridge and looks around, “Iris?” He knows he saw her. At least he thought he had. He’d for sure seen someone.

He begins poking around the snow, it had finally stopped coming down but if anyone else had been Larry’s pretty sure their tracks had been covered.

Until he spots something glittering and reflecting the flames. He snags it, the stone is cold against his fingers as he rolls it in his hands. Was this one of the stones off Iris’s hood? It was dark though, too dark to be that he thought. He shoves it in his pocket for now, he can show it to Nick later and ask him what he thinks.

And speaking of the devil, barely a minute later Nick comes charging up the path winded and wild eyed, the fire reflects off him almost like he’s the firebird he’s named for.

Larry hurries to him, “Nick?”

“AGH!” Nick about leaps into the air away from him, eyes wide with fear.

“What, is it me?” Come on he wasn’t that bad? What was wrong?

“There’s been a murder! Here! At Hazakura temple!” Despite the heat a chill runs through Larry’s veins. Who. Nick looks wild, could it be Maya?

“Look just call the police I have to- the killer might be over there, I have to get to Maya.”

Larry snaps his gaze over to the other side of the bridge and grabs Nick’s arm, “you can’t, Nick the bridge is on fire, it’s not safe, Nick you can’t!” He can’t do this, he hates choosing between Nick and Maya but he has to and he’s choosing Nick, he can’t do that year from hell again.

Nick pushes him aside though and orders again, “Call the police!” and then sprints for the bridge.

“Nick!” Larry stops at the burning embers that don’t even slow Nick, he can hear the ropes snapping as he watches Nick vanish into the smoke and flames.

He backs away coughing as a gust of wind blows the smoke and embers into his face, “Nick!”

He moves to the side to try and see better and his heart plunges out from his chest the way the boards give out under Nick.

The rest is a blur. He knows he hits his knees and reaches for him as though he can try and stop Nick from falling, try and stop another tragedy.

He knows he calls the police.

He remembers calling Edgeworth crying and coughing from the smoke that Nick might be dying and that it’s bad and he’s panicking – he doesn’t even know who’s dead or if Nick’s dead – until somewhere in the confusion he hears it.

Elise Deauxnim is dead.

He goes numb after that.

#Ace Attorney #CRYING IN THE CLUB TONIGHT #Larry Writes Warrior Cats

9 notes · View notes

fandomoniumflurry · 6 years

Text

Missus Winchester

@lukecastellamz Hey Shelly(!) It's me - again - bothering you with a chestervelle request... Imagine that instead of the never-born au the boys went for a universe where both said yes on season 4 and dean was married to Jo. He died after the apocalypse to become a hero/legend and Jo became the resistance leader as "Dean Winchester's Widow" (also now she drives the impala). Okay. I'm sorry for this. Bye.

Chestervelle

almost 8k words, yo, damn

Not really any warnings just some angst and fluff and language

This took five ever to write cuz I would write go a few days write then go a few more days until I finally made myself finish it today. So it’s long but I’m still not very happy with the way it turned out. Oh well, good enough. No beta so all mistakes are my own. Have fun kids.

Taggers: @becs-bunker

@elsatxx @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @ambermei @janai-mcgarrett

Sam and Dean had seen some pretty crazy shit in their lifetime. Killer clowns, four horsemen, apocalypses, rainbow farting unicorn. It was part of the job to expect the unexpected, believe the impossible is actually possible. That didn’t stop them from being shocked when the more unnatural of the supernatural threw them a curve ball. Time travel, killing death, meeting God, all surprises along the road that still left the boys reeling and amazed. The only thing that would be surprising to them now were the existence of aliens an alternate dimensions.

Aliens still didn’t exist unless they did in this alternate world. They still couldn’t believe that they had landed themselves in this darker eerie universe, just the feel of it entirely different than their own plane of existence. They hadn’t seen a single soul, dumped into the woods that were deep and overgrown. They fought their way through, unsure of where they were even going, hoping to find the outside before they were eaten by wild animals or insects.

Breaking through the trees into a wide expanse of nothing, it would appear that life was far worse outside the forest. The grass was dry and crackled under their boots. The sun was clouded behind a dark haze, casting a black glow over the planet. There were no buildings in sight for miles and miles that the eye could see. Ruins and rubble did litter the sparse terrain, half erected buildings decayed and grown over with poison oak and thistles.

The brothers walked slowly in solemn silence as they surveyed the deathly state of what once was a thriving city on their earth. The stillness around them was deafening and everything seemed to move in slow motion. The time of day, the season, the year, none of it could be told because it was just always dark and dreary. Sam’s hand lifted to ghost over the frame of what looked to have been a house. He paused to look over the cracked and crumbling brick, erosion that had surely taken years to collapse the whole house. Sam turned his head to look at Dean, a silent heavy conversation passing between them. There were no words only heavy hearts as they took everything in.

The silence would have continued if not for the rumble of what sounded like large trucks coming their way. Casting a glance at each other once again, the boys darted to hide within the rubble as best they could. They didn’t know what trouble was heading toward them and until they knew more about this world, they weren’t going to face its inhabitants head on. The closer the trucks came they could see that they were dirty beat up old army trucks and humvees. Each carried at least two people in their cab and there were at least nine vehicles.

The sound of heavy bass and guitar chords permeated through the speaks and escaped into the openness. Classic rock, Dean thought. At least this world had good taste in music. As if Sam could read his brother’s mind, he raised a brow and offered the other man one of his softer bitch faces. Dean just grinned briefly before returning to his blank gaze ahead. If they were lucky, the convy would just keep moving. There was no reason for them to stop here, the middle of nowhere, therefore no chance that the Winchesters would be found.

Murphy’s law states that whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. So in this case, it should have been no surprise that the train of trucks came to a slow stop. Dean’s eyes rolled as his head fell back in annoyance. They could never catch a break. A man climbed out of the vehicle in the lead, his combat boots shuffling through the dry grass. The boys got nervous since he seemed to be coming to a pile of stones not far from their hiding spot. They were getting ready to bolt when the man stopped. He lifted a hatch that was hidden within the stone and there was a buzz after he pushed a button that was out of their sight.

The boys looked at each other with interest before the man talked to the rock and then received a reply. There was a brief stint of silence before the ground began to quake and earth began to open. A ramp began to slowly drop into the depths and when it landed open fully, a ploom of dust shot up all around them. Dean watched on in wonder, both brothers fell in awe, intrigued by the hidden entrance. The trucks began to move again once the man climbed back in and they all began to rumble down into the darkness below.

The boys didn’t have to discuss it, they didn’t even need to look at each other. After the last trucky disappeared and the door began to close, they jumped up and booked it toward the entrance. Sam made it first, jumping over the edge of the ramp and landed on his feet easily in the dimly lit tunnel. Dean slid in after, skidding across the dirty metal and falling to the ground on his back with a groan. Sam couldn’t help but laugh before he helped the older man to his feet. Dean pointed a finger in his face and scowled before clicking on his flashlight and leading the way. Sam chuckled with a shake of his head before falling in behind his brother.

The tunnel was lit by faint lamps on the wall every few feet and the air was musty and stale. The tunnel continued downward and the brothers started to second guess their decision to jump in blindly. Finally when they thought their path would never end, the tunnel opened up into a wide open area. The trucks had parked and were now emptying and before they could be spotted, the boys quickly shuffled back into the shadows of the tunnel.

Plastering themselves against the wall, they watched as the underground city bustled. It was a whole community, a compact neighborhood with markets and homes. Guards were stationed at different posts around the community, guns hanging around their necks and also strapped to their belts. It all reminded them of a military compound mixed with a bomb shelter. They watched for a few moments, taking in everything and surveying the composition of the place.

They didn’t recognize anyone and there didn’t appear to be anyone over fifty in the crowds. Everyone was younger and fitted for battle. Dean gestured his head and Sam nodded. The two of them quickly moved from the tunnel to a new hiding spot within the compound. They moved stealthily through the streets, hiding behind stands, vehicles and what could be considered yards of homes that were more like huts fitted closely together and small. Listening to the conversations as they moved, it was still impossible to decipher the state of this world or the reasoning behind this hidden bunker.

These were all just normal folks trying to live out their lives as normal as possible. These were survivors, a group of people that came together to find protection and survival. They weren’t wealthy but they weren’t in need. They weren’t thriving in their environment but they were surviving. There were still giggling children, gossip, and bartering sales people. Life was still going on even though the world above had seemingly stopped turning. It amazed Dean that humanity survived so well and were now working together to establish society and take care of one another.

Clearly they each knew each person that took up residence in the compound which would make it hard for the brothers to blend in. They weren’t sure where they were headed or what their plan was but the whole place seemed to center around a stone fort like building. So it could only be assumed that the fearless leader of this community would be holed up there and maybe they would be willing to help them out. The place grew more dense the closer to the center they got which meant they had perhaps expanded since they originally started here.

It wasn’t the living conditions or civilians that inhabited the compound that caught Dean’s attention. It was the sparkling of black and chrome dazzling in dim firelight that held his attention. Slapping a hand out at Sammy, they both looked on at a familiar sight. “Baby.” They whispered in unison.

Without thinking, Dean stepped toward his treasured car. Sam reached out for his brother but it was only a blink of an eye before they were surrounded, guns pointing them down. Dean cleared his throat and gave an awkward grin before lifting his shoulders and meeting Sam’s bitchface.

“Stand down.” A familiar voice, scratchy and aged, caused both men to whip their heads around. Eyes grew large and jaws dropped when their attention fell on the one who issued the command. Even though the guns around them dropped, the leader still held a pistol up in front of herself. Her eyes were hard and distant, a far cry from the soft and young chocolate orbs that she had back when they had known her.

“Who are you?” She questioned gruffly, the gun in her calloused hand right in Dean’s face. He was stunned speechless and the ache in his chest reminded him to breathe. “Who are you?!” This time her question was a reverberating yell. No one else would have noticed it but her voice trembled slightly and the pain in her eyes softened her features a bit.

Sucking in a slow and steady breath, Dean raised his hands slowly, a gesture of surrender and goodwill toward the blonde. “I’m Dean.” His voice was practically a whisper, his head dipping slightly to plead for her compassion.

The gun shook as her anger grew. “Impossible! That’s fucking impossible!” This time the tremor of her words was a clear sign of her growing emotions.

“It’s me, Jo. It’s really me.” With a boldness, he took a small step forward. He immediately regretted his decision when she fired off a shot. There was a scorching pain through his calf and he hit the ground. “You fucking shot me!”

She was composed now as she lowered the gun. Casting a glance at Sam, the younger brother raised his arms in surrender and didn’t utter a word. Dean put pressure on his wound and glowered up at his old friend. Her eyes rolled as she took her pistol apart with ease before tossing a bullet at him. His brow furrowed as he caught it and looked over it carefully. His eyes widened in amazement and his face smoothed, clearly impressed when he looked up at her again.

“A silver and iron alloy bullet dipped in holy water and salt with devil’s trap and enochian sigils etched into it.” She explained stone faced and Sam looked as equally amazed as his brother. “Come with me.” SHe turned without another word and headed toward the center structure. Sam helped his brother to his feet and helped him hobble after the blonde and the other men dispersed back to their original posts.

Stepping into the hut, Sam helped Dean onto a cot that Jo pointed to once she stepped within the concrete building. Sam knelt down to look at his brother’s wound but before he could ask for supplies, Jo was at his side offering him a first aid kit. He looked up into her blank stare with surprise and thanked her to which she nodded. She crossed her arms over her chest, hip jutted to one side as she watched the younger Winchester work.

She didn’t offer Dean a glance but she could feel his eyes on her. Her stance reminded him of the girl he once knew. She was a few years older but her hair was still blonde and only a few wrinkles creased in her face. She had a great amount of scars and fresh bruises and scabs adorning her skin and Dean frowned lightly, thinking about what she had endured to achieve such wounds.

She shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze until she couldn’t take his scrutiny any longer and tossed her head up to catch him in an icy glare. “Would you stop staring at me? You’re making me feel weird.” She huffed but he didn’t look away.

“I’m sorry. I just- I haven’t seen you in over ten years.” His frown seemed to deepen, a pain in his eyes that he hadn’t experienced in so long, an ache dedicated to her. “I’d say you look good, Jo but…”

“How are you here?” She interrupted, casting a glance between both brothers. She wasted no time and her impatience was clear in her expression.

“Ok, right to it then. Guess you haven’t changed that much.” Dean muttered as he crossed his own arms, flinching slightly when Sam cleaned his gunshot.

“What did you expect? A parade and fucking streamers?” She snapped as her arms dropped to her sides. “You’re supposed to be dead, Dean. But you’re sitting right in front of me wanting to make small talk. Sorry if I’ve got more on my mind than the weather.”

Sam looked up at Dean as the older man stared wide eyed at the blonde. After her outburst, she seemed to calm down some, her eyes fell as her face smoothed. “I didn’t believe them at first when they said they thought they saw you and Sam sneaking around the compound. This world can drive the sanest mad.” She paced as she explained, Sam only watching her for a moment before carrying on with his task at hand.

“I assured them that the Winchester brothers were dead and even if they were alive, they would be far better at sneaking around.” Dean’s nose wrinkled at the offense. “Or just storm in after knocking out every guard and sentinel that got in their way.” That seemed to ease the burn which actually got a tiny smirk from the blonde. “Then I started to think who in the hell would dare to come into my base wearing Dean’s face? No one is that stupid unless it was Dean himself.”

She stopped and locked eyes with the eldest Winchester. Her eyes were softer now, her hard outer shell crumbling more and more as she stood in Dean’s presence. “I didn’t want to believe it, I didn’t want to cling to hope only to have it dashed again. But then I saw you.” Her eyes were misty now as she took a step toward him. “And I tried so hard to tell myself it wasn’t you. But when I shot you..” She grimaced when she looked down at Sam tying off the bandage. “Sorry about that by the way.”

Dean’s shoulders shrugged. “Not the worst I’ve had. God knows, I would have done the same.” He gave her a soft smile as a gesture of forgiveness. She then relaxed and took a seat near the brothers. Her hands closed together as her elbows rested on her thighs and she pressed her fingers between her knees.

In such a posture, she appeared so young, so vulnerable and it made Dean smile. He had missed her so much and being so close to her, even if it wasn’t his Jo, it was still making his heart race. His thoughts and memories played through all his time with her and it was as if no time had passed, as if he had never lost her. Even after so long, those well repressed and nearly forgotten feelings sprung forth once again.

“We’re not your Sam and Dean, Jo.” Sam stated sorrowfully as he shifted to a sitting position on the floor. “This isn’t our world.” “I know.” She nodded with a frown.

“How do you know?” Dean asked wishing that he was the Dean of this earth, just for her.

“Because I killed you.” The brothers eyes grew wider than they ever had, bodies going rigid as they stared at her. Their mouths gaped as they waited for her explanation. The corner of her mouth twisted in a faint rueful smirk before she sighed.

“It goes back to the start of the apocalypse, the beginning of the end.” The boys listened closely, their own minds going back to the time, the memories still clear as day. “Angels and demons carrying out the prophecies of old, people dying left and right. It was the Winchesters against it all. Until Sam said yes.” Sam’s shoulders straightened, a look of fear and shame in his eyes as Jo stared him down. “He thought he was strong enough to fight off the Devil but he wasn’t So Lucifer started to ‘cleans’ the world and mankind started to die off. Dean’s leadership, this compound was set up and we survived while the world died away. He thought he could save the planet, fight the war against Satan himself.”

“But he was arrogant.” Dean’s head tilted slightly when Jo looked up at him. “He was stupid.” She seemed to growl with her bitter words and moisture pooled in her eyes. “He was fighting a losing battle and nothing was changing. But he just had to save the world. It was his job to fix what he had started and so he never gave up. The stubborn ornery bastard.” Her head hung as she shook it, willing away her tears. “He tried for years until finally he had no other choice.”

The brothers watched her closely and they already knew what happened next but they waited to hear it from her lips. “Dean said yes to Michael and that was the last time I saw Dean because that damn angel took him and the great battle took place. Lucifer was taken out but the fight took out cities, people, civilizations. Even whole environments suffered, the rotation of the earth was disrupted. But it didn’t stop there. Michael took his brother’s place as the world's dictator and things only got worse.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks and Dean shifted with intent to go to her but she raised a hand to stop him as if she could read his mind. “We found a way to kill the archangel and I took it upon myself to go to him. I thankfully had the element of surprise but when I was face to face with him, I almost couldn’t do it. But I had to. So I ran him through with the Sword of the Lord and watched the life leave his eyes, watched as he sparked and screamed, watched him fall and saw his wings burn. I was left with the lifeless body of Dean Winchester, his murder at my hand.”

“You had no other choice.” Dean attempted to assure her and she chuckled humorlessly.

Her head lifted when there was a soft knock. Her eyes landed upon one of her guards, a tall man holding a machine gun in his hands, standing firm as if he were a soldier in his past life. “I don’t mean to interrupt, Missus Winchester but…” Dean missed the rest of the sentence, too stunned by the way the man addressed the blonde.

He stared at her completely dumbfounded, his hearing clouded and eyes blinding to everything but her. She caught his eyes and there was a slight blush in her cheeks and her eyes heavy with hurt and guilt. “I need to take care of this, guys. I’ll be right back to answer all your questions.” He watched her as she stood and still had his eyes her way long after she had disappeared through the door. Sam seemed just as stunned as they were left to themselves in the room.

His leg wound forgotten, Dean rose to his feet and began to look around the room. His hand rested on his brother’s shoulder for balance as his eyes fell over every detail. Knowing that this was his home, he started to recognize some items and their specific placement. He could see his style and personality in the room only further proving that he lived here at some point and she had never changed a thing, clearly clinging to what was left of him.

Sam looked up at him, watching him closely as he flipped through many different emotions. This world may have been different from their own but in ways it was the same. Things had played out differently here and the state of the earth made Sam think of the decisions he had made on his own earthy. The choices they made, good or bad, where they led the brothers where they were now. Each decision led to different outcomes. It was a lot to take in, heavy emotions and thoughts surrounding just this one room.

When Jo reentered a few minutes later, heads turned to catch her gaze. “I’ll show you to a room where you can stay for now. I’ve gotta go with my team so I can’t babysit.” Her cold gruff shell was back as she brushed past them expecting them to follow.

Sam helped Dean once again to move through the room and Jo was already making up a couple cots by the time they walked in. Dean sat down on one while Sam moved to take the linens from Jo to make up his own cot. She gave them up and shoved her hands in her back pockets. She stood awkwardly in silence, her gaze on her dusty boots instead of on the older brother that was watching her.

“The, uh, kitchen is stocked with cans and stuff if you’re hungry or whatever. It’s just around the corner from the main room. If you need anything, talk to the guard at the door. I will be back after dark and my room is right across the hall.” Both brothers were sitting now, looking her way as her eyes lifted. Her feet were heavy keeping her from leaving like she wanted. She swallowed the lump in her throat then nodded. “Ok, well, uh. Bye.” Her feet finally moved and she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

It wasn’t long before Dean grew restless and rose to his feet to hobble toward the hall. Sam was right there to hold him up and guide him. But when Dean didn’t stop to head toward the kitchen, Sam tried to steer him. Dean grumbled and kept up his path toward the door with intent to head out into the compound beyond.

“Dean, maybe we should stay in here, wait for Jo to get back.” Sam pleaded as he still held onto his brother’s arm.

“And do what? Twiddle our thumbs? I don’t know about you but I’m not going to sit around and stare at the wall when there is a whole new world out there. So you can either come with me, Jasmine, or you can stay locked up in the palace with Raja, cuz this street rat is going outside.”

Sam’s face was graced with his bitchface and his head tilted as he glared his brother down. His eyes rolled before he walked away. Dean sighed and hobbled on his own but he didn’t get far before Sam was at his side again. He had found a crutch luckily and handed it to Dean along with a bottle of water. “We are going to cause a ruckus, I already know it. Gotta stay hydrated.” His shoulders rolled as he looked down at Dean who chuckled with a shake of his head.

“Who says ruckus anymore, grandpa?” Dean murmured with a grin before leading the way out the door, leaning on his new trusted walking aid.

True to her word, Jo returned shortly after sunset but to an empty house. A sense of panic washed over her for a moment, not for the boys safety for she knew that they would take care of themselves. But instead her concern was for their destination and the reactions of her people if they were to see the two alternate Winchesters. Realizing that they had indeed left the cement building, her worry turned to anger as she set off in search of them. Only after berating the guard that was supposed to be keeping them inside away from curious inspection.

It didn’t take long for her to find them. She had no need of asking for the direction of the brothers for everyone was more than willing to come to her to rat out their location. A crowd was gathered around a roaring fire, thundering laughter and incoherent chatter bouncing off the huts that encircled the little campsite. In the middle of the circle sat the two brothers, Dean centermost of the two. The eldest Winchester had a bottle of beer in one hand and was smacking his chest as he choked on a laugh.

The steam that had been pouring out of Jo’s ears when she left the house seemed to cool down the moment she landed on his toothy smile. His green orbs dazzled in the firelight and in that moment he was the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes on. Her heart skipped a beat and she had long since forgotten what she had even been angry about in the first place. Then he looked up, his eyes locking with hers and her knees nearly gave out on her. His features softened, his smile sweet and inviting and it left the fearless leader positively breathless.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this hard. Choking on his beer was a small price to pay for the good time he was having with these friendly group of strangers. The apocalypse hadn’t killed their spirits or taken away their humor. It had only made them stronger, a people holding onto whatever happiness and joy in life they had. It was refreshing and Dean found it intoxicating. They listened intently to any story or joke he had to tell and they were more than interested in hearing of his world, believing him so easily. He wasn’t their Dean but they treated him just as they would their leader, with respect and admiration.

When he saw Jo, the smile changed, the feeling in his chest turned from amusement to wonder and adoration. The way she seemed to sparkle in the orange glow of the fire only made her more beautiful. His smile only grew when he noticed that she was smiling in return. He raised his free hand to her in a small wave and she seemed to blush as she waved back. “Excuse me, guys. Gotta talk to Apocalypse Barbie over there.” More laughter as he grabbed his crutch and pushed himself to his feet. Slapping Sam on the back, the younger man glanced up with a grin and a nod before the crowd parted for Dean to pass through.

The closer he got to her, the fuzzier her mind became. This wasn’t her Dean, she knew that. But she couldn’t help but yearn for the man she had once called her husband. She swallowed hard and held her breath when he stood right before her. Her head leaned back slightly to peer up into his gorgeous hues. He grinned softly and even though he was the one with the crutch, she felt like she was the one that was going to need it to stay up straight.

She finally found her voice after a moment of staring into each other’s eyes. Her voice wasn’t as loud and firm as she had wished it to be, coming out as more of a breathy whisper. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”

He grinned and leaned more into the crutch, trying to be smooth and lay on his charm. “Have you ever known me to follow the rules?”

Her eyes rolled with a shake of her head. “I don’t know ‘you’ at all.”

This caused him to frown, the air shifting with the sudden tension that built. “I didn’t want to sit on that cot for hours staring at the wall. So I took a walk. Didn’t think it would be a big deal.” He was no longer charming, speaking more gruffly. Instead of showing her the annoyance he felt, it only caused a shiver to run down her spine at his tone. He took her silence as an inner rage and with a sigh he continued. “Look, they know I’m not their Dean and they were cool with it. They even wanted to know about my world and stuff.”

She stared up at him, her face wrinkling as she tried her hardest to be angry with him. But as long as he wore that face, gave her those eyes, smiled that smile, she was done for. Finally, a soft sigh passed her lips and she nodded. Watching her soften once again, Dean smiled and tucked a finger under her chin. “You’ve done good with these people, Jo. You take good care of them. Your Dean would be proud.”

Those words broke through what little she had left of her cold outer shell and tears began to fall down her face before she could stop them. Sensing her impending breakdown, Dean wrapped his arms tightly around her and she buried her face in his chest. The familiar scent was soothing and yet heartbreaking, only making her sobs wrack her body. Her fingers curled into his shirt and she held him as tight as she could as tears soaked the fabric. All the while, a hand caressed her hair and the other rubbed down her back while he rested his cheek against the top of her head, whispering softly, words she couldn’t understand through the intensity of her emotions.

“Come on. Let’s get back inside.” Dean told her softly, pulling back a bit to look into her teary eyes. She nodded, still clinging to him tightly. Not wanting the gathering to see their commander this vulnerable and weary, he ushered her away as quickly as he could move. She held him up better than the crutch and she didn’t even look back. Thankfully, Sam caught the attention of the group, taking over the storytelling and distracting them.

The moment they stepped into the house, Dean sat Jo down, leaving only to light a lantern and set it nearby. The moment he sat down next to her she curled herself into his arms once again. The warmth of his embrace was a soothing balm to all her ailments, a sweet lullaby to years of sleepless nights. This was home. She had been without Dean for so long that she had forgotten what this felt like. She missed him every second of everyday but she never had the time to grieve the loss of her husband. To truly accept that he was really gone.

Having another Dean here only made her grief flood her soul and she allowed the sorrow to overwhelm her. Her body quaked and her sobs were like a never ending spring. Pulling her into his lap, he held her tighter, clung to her with everything he had in him. He rocked her and pet her, no words spoken before there was no need for them. He knew what she needed because he needed it to.

They just needed each other, needed to be held. The terrors and nightmares of the lives they’ve led wear on them and overpower them. It was only natural to break under the pressure after a while. Dean had lost his Jo so long ago and it was a hole that could never be filled. But to him, Jo was the one that got away, the one he let slip through his fingers and he held the weight of guilt for her death even to this day.

This Jo had lost so much more. Dean wasn’t just a crush. He was her husband, the one she believed to be her soulmate. Her wounds ran deep and the last thing she needed to see was the face of the man she loved, the man she leaned on and confided in, the man that helped her through literal hell on earth. Now, for so long she had to do everything alone and Dean’s presence only broke the tall cold fortress she had become.

For so long, she had been too strong and now she melted like ice in the heat of Dean’s soul. In that moment, there was no apocalypse, there was no alternate worlds or big bds. For a moment, they let time stop and just took advantage of the one relieving moment.

But just like everything else in their lives, moments like this were fleeting. The knock on the door caused her to pull her face from Dean’s chest. She began to frantically wipe at her face, trying to remove any sign of the shed tears. Dean smoothed her hair and adjusted her coat and gave her a soft smile. The flutter of her heart brought a smile to her face as well. Perhaps caught up in the moment, she cupped his cheeks and slanted her lips against his.

This kiss was brief put powerful and when she pulled away they were both wide eyed with shock. Remembering whose arms she was wrapped in, she began to panic. They didn’t have time to question the action before another knock sounded and the slow creak of the door opening. Jo’s eyes dropped as she cleared her throat before jumping to her feet, leaving Dean to stare up at her with a twinkle in his emerald hues.

“Missus Winchester.” The man stated with fretful apprehension and Dean still couldn’t help but drop his head with a grin at the way they addressed her. Without even looking at him, she swatted the eldest Winchester’s shoulder.

He caught her hand and wrapped calloused digits around hers. The gesture, how simple it may seem, was comforting and she squeezed his hand in return. The action went unnoticed by the guard but the blush on her cheeks would be obvious to anyone.

“What is it, Hysen?” She found her authoritative voice once more.

The guard looked between Dean and his leader before swallowing hard. “Could I speak with you in private for a moment?” She looked down at Dean then back to her soldier and nodded before pulling her hand away.

The older man let her go reluctantly, his hands falling to his lap as he watched her step away out of the corner of his eye. They didn’t go far, just far enough that Dean couldn’t hear but still close enough that he could see their faces and the occasional glances thrown his direction. The shock on Jo’s face when she looked at him made Dean worry and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Her throat bobbed with an obvious deep swallow before she turned her face back to her soldier. She nodded after a few quiet word and with that the man took his leave. Silence took over the room as Jo and Dean were left alone once again. The tension between them was no longer comfortable and the eldest Winchester felt uneasy as she drew near.

“What's up?” He questioned as he shifted in his seat to turn to face her more. He could only guess what news she was given by the paleness of her face and the fact her eyes were full of sadness, almost disappointment. “Jo?”

“You brought him here?” Her face twisting as she looked him straight in the eye.

“Jo, I can explain-”

Her arms quickly gestured toward him as she shook his head, cutting him off with no intent of letting him explain. “I fixed it! Dean got rid of Lucifer and I got rid of Michael. The world was free of all these damn supernatural assholes!”

“I didn’t know this world even existed, Jo!” Dean stood to his feet now, as best as he could while resting his hand against the wall to brace himself. “I didn’t know!”

She still stood firm and stared at him with a hard glare as her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. “If Lucifer and his spawn are here, I intend to send them back to your world or kill them.” Her statement was flat, final, her title making her word law. The jerk of her quick turning fanned her hair out behind her as she stomped out the door. The door slammed shut and once again Dean was left in the confines of a home that was never his, alone and watching as the blonde walked out.

It was the next morning before Dean and Sam saw Jo again. Deciding better of it, the brothers stayed inside the house until Jo gave them permission to leave. This was not their world, Jo was running this show as hard as that was for Dean to accept. If it weren’t for Sam, Dean would have gathered his own team and headed out to hunt the devil. Again. But as outsiders, they didn’t know what they would be going into and they didn’t know anyone that would be going into the fray with them. The inner workings of Jo’s compound was flawless, like a well oiled machine and if anyone were to bring in the archangel and send them all back to their world, it was Missus Winchester and her crew.

“She was married to this world’s Dean, ya know?” Sam broke the silence in the room where they sat simply staring at the door. Dean’s leg was propped up on the coffee table and he didn’t acknowledge his brother which told Sam that the other Winchester already knew. The younger of the two pursed his lips, his ankles crossing as his hands intertwined to rest on his stomach. His fingers tapped and his hair flopped as he looked around lazily, clearly going just as stir crazy as Dean but the older brother was better at remaining deathly still.

“This could have been our world.” Dean finally commented and Sam’s head turned to look at him. There was a sadness in his voice as he sucked in a slow breath. “Just one little change and we could have been where they are now.” His head tilted. “Well, no we’d be dead but you get me.” Sam’s eyes fell and he nodded, having thought the same thing many times in the hours they had been stuck in this reality. But the younger brother knew there was more to Dean’s revelation.

“She didn’t die for nothing in our world, Dean. She died to save us. She was just as brave on our world as she is in this one.” There were times that Sam missed the Harvelle and her mother and Ash but life had to go on. But there was no one that suffered more for their loss than Dean who always blamed himself. “She knew you cared about her. And she cared about you. You can’t dwell on the what-ifs, Dean. You need to let it go. Let her go.”

It was then that Sam noticed a tear slide down Dean’s cheeks. “I can’t let her go again.”

Sam’s eyes widened as his jaw dropped. “Dean, no. This isn’t your home. You can’t--” “And why not?” Dean snapped, his head quickly turning to stare down his brother. “What do we have left in our world? We’ve lost everything! Everyone! Here we can start new. We can bring this world back to life. No supernatural, no apocalypses. Just cleaning up the mess the other us made. Making a difference.”

Sam’s forehead wrinkled and he frowned faintly. “We make a difference in our world, Dean. We have Jody and Donna and the girls. We have Cas. We have a home. We have mom!”

Dean’s eyes turned away as he shook his head. There was truth in Sam’s words but he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of them the moment the door swung open. Both brothers shot up when Jo and a couple of men stepped in. Their bodies were rigid as they waited for the blonde to address them, give them the news they had been waiting for for hours. Jo stepped aside and it was Cas and Jack that stepped forward.

Sam sighed with relief and Jack instantly ran to the tall man and engulfed him in a tight embrace. Dean’s body relaxed a bit before offering Jack a tight smile before looking into the blue eyes of his best friend. Cas’s brow knit and head tilted as he seemed to look right through Dean’s soul with confusion and concern. But he didn’t say a word, kept his mouth shut as Jo sent her soldiers away and closed the door behind them.

“I have Rowena working on a spell to send you back.” Jo stated as she turned to face them, her arms crossing over her chest. “All of you except Lucifer. He’s being dealt with. Figured you didn’t need him in your world anyway.” Dean was surprised that she so easily had let Lucifer’s son go free but Jo always was a better judge of character than he was. Then again she did pick him to have a massive crush on which put a damper in her judgement record.

“Thank you, Jo.” The gruff voice broke through Dean’s trance and he looked away from the woman he had been staring at so intently. Castiel nodded his head at Jo and she did the same in return.

“Might as well get comfortable. Row said it would be a while before she has everything up and running so.” Jo’s arms dropped and when she was done speaking she turned as if to walk away. It surprised even Dean himself at the speed he caught her. Wide chocolate eyes caught his emerald orbs and with parted lips she gasped softly. “Dean.” His name passed breathily through her teeth.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked with urgency.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice was husky, tinged with both grief and anger, his name sounding like a warning to back down from his current course of action.

“Sam.” Dean snapped back, assuming his role as the superior and Sam’s chest heaved but he relented. His attention snapping back to Jo, Dean’s eyes pleaded for her answer. “Please.” Staring into his eyes, she couldn’t help but give in and nodded before coming to his side to help walk him away from the small group in the common area. They walked silently, Dean’s eyes glancing down at her from time to time, watching the blush in her cheeks. The walk seemed to take far longer than it should have and relief washed over them when the door finally closed behind them, leaving them alone in her bedroom. Dean took a seat on her bed but Jo chose to stand before him, hugging her arms around herself.

She looked down at her feet so when he reached his hands out to grab her by the elbows she jumped lightly. He couldn’t help but chuckle before pulling her closer to him. She hated that she so easily gave into him and planted herself between his legs. When she looked down at him, he was smiling softly, that look in his eyes that her Dean always held for her. The mere sight of this man brought moisture to her eyes and before she knew it, his hands were cupping her face and bringing his forehead to rest against hers.

Silence fell, comfortable once again. Her arms uncrossed as her eyes closed, fingers closing around his biceps. “I know what you’re going to say, Dean.” Her voice crackled slightly, raw emotion bubbling out of her. “And you can’t.”

Dean pulled back and looked like a kicked puppy dog when she caught his gaze. “Why not? I have nothing back there. I can start over here. I can be with you. I can-”

“Stop.” As much as she hated the idea of losing him again, she had to remind herself that this wasn’t her Dean. She knew nothing about this man from another dimension just like he knew nothing about her. They may be the same people but the different experiences have led them down different paths to make them separate from their counterparts. She shook her head and lifted her hands to pull his from her face. “I’d love for you to stay, don’t get me wrong. God, I’ve missed you.”

“There’s a but coming.” The man stated sadly.

“But you’re not my Dean. You don’t belong here. How do you know we’d even get along? You would really give up your life to live with a stranger?” His mouth opened but she pressed a finger to his lips. “No. I won’t let you. Not just for you but also for my sanity. I’ve already lost my Dean. No matter what you think, you’re not him and you will never be him. And that’s ok. But I just can’t let you stay.”

He sucked in a breath and rested his face against her chest, arms wrapping around her middle. She moved her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair then planting a soft kiss against his scalp. This was all he had ever wanted and it felt like once again it was slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t help but let a few stray tears stain her shirt. Her own tears fell and she sniffled quietly.

After a few moments, there was a knock on the door and Jo laughed when Dean growled against her. She released him and cupped his face, her thumbs wiping at the tears. She nodded and he returned the gesture before she planted a soft kiss against his lips. “Yeah?” She called as she stepped away from Dean toward the door.

The door opened and the pair were face to face with the petite redhead. Jo offered the woman a nod of her head before turning to look at Dean. She offered him her hand and he reluctantly took it and rose to his feet. They followed the witch into the common area where everything was already set up and ready to go. Sam, Jack and Castiel all turned to see Dean hand in hand with the blonde and even though Sam was relieved, he still frowned sympathetically at his brother.

Dean stepped toward his family but Jo’s hand pulled him back. In one swift move, her hand was on the back of his head, fingers gliding through his hair and bringing his lips to hers. The moment he realized what was happening, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, deepening the kiss. This kiss was far better and more passionate than the desperate goodbye kiss he had given his Jo. Almost as if it were closure for the both of them, they pulled away with a smile.

“Take care of yourself, Princess.” She teased pushing him away and punching him on the arm.

He chuckled and placed a hand over the spot and pretending it hurt more than it did. “You too, kiddo.” He walked backwards until he stood in the circle beside his brother, best friend, and the nephilim all while his eyes remained locked on hers. She waved with a crooked grin and he winked as Rowena began to chant. As this world around them began to fade, he could see more tears slide down Jo’s face before she was gone altogether.

#chestervelle #shelly takes requests #lukecastellamz #dean winchester #jo harvelle #dean x jo #supernatural #spn #spn au #au #this is shit #but eh its cool #enjoy yall #what even is this shit #how do write

27 notes · View notes