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firelordgrantham · 2 years

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kotlc endgame

How I would like Keeper of the last Cities to end:

(bare in mind, when I say people are married or on a job, it's far, far after the series ending since they are all quite young)

Sophie

She is a member of the Council, took Oralie's place after she was fired when her parenthood was revealed to the public. Although she is (with Bronte's help since he was interested and curious about what the Black Swan preached) trying to pass a bill to allow Councilors to have families, she is single. She mentions that even if it takes a hundred years to pass the bill, ''he'' will wait for her all the same, the ''he'' being undefined so as to allow both Keephies and Sophitzes to take it home as their own.

Fitz

After a lot of therapy, he has learned to manage his anger/lashing out issues, and is training under both his parents to be the heir of the Vacker since they both want to kinda retire now that the war is over. He is a Keeper, like Quinlin, and is single.

Keefe

Working things out with his father but not going back to their house. Elvish embassador to the ogres. Was given an ogerish name by his new friends which basically means ''He-who-won't-shut-up-about-his-hair'' and he loves it. Single but is the favorite ''uncle'' of every kid of the next generation.

Dex

In a partnership for alchemy making with Kesler and Rex (the Talentless Triplet). He works alongside his wife Biana in this family business. They have three kids (Dendrick, Adara and Kalea). He has a secret lair in his attic, with a window invisible from the outside thanks to technology, and a few forbidden crystals, in order to extrade his whole family in case of danger (he still is traumatized by the many times he hurt his friends, whether it be the diadem or Fitz's impalement). Only Biana, Sophie and him know about that attic. It mainly is used as a safeguard in case the Council was not to be trusted anymore or a new threat such as the Neverseen were to arise. Their house is called Prankshire because Rex chose the name even tho no one asked him anything.

Biana

She is married to Dex and got kind of the same fame for that (marrying below her condition, a guy from a family with multiple births and talentless people, etc) than Consuelo Vanderbilt or Jenny Jerome for being american heiress who married into noble british families in the last 1800's. She works in alchemy with him but is on the To-call list of the Council in case they suddenly need more manpower. They have three kids as stated above.

Note about Bianex: although most people think it's such a scandal because they were not a match, they were, in fact. Biana was number 349 on Dex's list, and Dex was number 494 on Biana's list. The scandal is that they were so far on each other's list and that they eloped.

Tam

He lives in an overgrown forest with his family (his wife Marella, his kids Dailin and Caprise), in a manor near a river. On the other side of the river is a twin manor in which live Linh and her family. He reads shadowvapor for anyone (whom he trusts) who asks him to, and is the official shadowvapor reader of the Council. He lives in semi-reclusion with Marella because of the dangerosity of their powers and the lack of trust from other people and likes it. He trained both his children to fight with and without abilities in case the need would arise.

Linh

She lives in a twin manor to Tam near a river. The river's noise soothes her and also it's part of Tam's paranoid plan of defense: if they are under attack, she can use the river's water to protect them. She is married with Wylie and they ave three children: Twins Zoran and Andrin, and Tamhai. She is technically on house arrest because of some diplomatic tensions with the ogres, but spends her days painting, gardening and teaching her kids (especially Tamhai who is an hydrokinetic like her) and is happy of her life.

Wylie

He lives with Linh in one of the twin manors of Inniroots (the name of the land/property) but is employed as an Emissary by the Council and spends long amounts of time far from home. He sometimes meets up with Jensi, Fitz and Dex for a drink and a boy's night. He is the former member of Team Valiant who has the most contacts with Keefe since his job sends him to ogres kingdom regularly.

Note on Wylinh: Since he couldn't have his parents at their wedding and Linh didn't want hers, they had a very private ceremony with basically only the Team Valiant members and a few other close friends (among which a few pupils from Wylie's year).

Marella

She lives in Inniroots with Tam and their children Dailin and Caprise. Although personna non grata in most parts of the Lost Cities, she is not forbidden from exercising her ability due to services made to the Council, but has to do so under strict supervision. She ordered from Dex ability inhibitors to help keep control of her fire but he refused to do much since he fears his inventions will always be used against the original intent. She was extremely relieved when she discovered neither Dailin nor Caprise had pyrokinesy. She has come to appreciate her power but still has a few inhibitions regarding it.

Note on Tamarella:

Marucca

She is married to Jensi and they live in a cottage named Wuthershell. She is an Emissary for the Council and sometimes works in a team with Wylie and other emissaries. She is stationned half the year in Atlantis to watch over the dome. She has one daughter, Lilla.

Jensi

Married to Marucca, living in Wuthershell. Since Marucca is far from home half the year, he raised their daughter Lilla almost single-handedly.

Stina

She is working (under the guidance of Jurek, which is a first, a Talentless mentoring a noble) at the Sanctuary with unicorns and alicorns. She is regularly asking her matchmaker of an uncle about Keefe, waiting until he inscribes himself into the system to put herself too. She used to have a crush on Keefe but now simply made up her mind that they were ideal for each other and should be matched together if Keefe ever stopped waiting for Sophie. She is the only elf (outside of Sophie) whom Greyfell trusts, but it took a lot of time and her going through a litteral storm to find meds in order to heal a sprained wing of Luna.

The kids:

Dendrick (boy), born from Bianex around year 25 after the series' end. He is both a Vanisher and a Froster and is considered one of the most powerful pupils of Foxfire. He looks a lot like his father but has the eyes and hair colour of his mother.

Adara (girl), born from Bianex around year 30. She is a technopath who uses her powers à la Edna Mode, mixing it with fashion. She looks like Biana but ginger like her father.

Kalea (girl), born from Bianex around year 32. She is a Froster like Juline and is a very powerful telekinesy user since she's a late bloomer and feared she would be talentless, so she trained her other abilities as much as possible.

Dailin (boy), born from Tamarella around year 23, is a Guster like his grandfather. He looks a lot like his father, very asian in his features, except of course he doesn't have silver bangs. He is on the scouting list of the council as a powerful elf but is not interested in becoming one of their men since he is an introvert and would rather work from home or not at all, like his parents.

Caprise (girl), born from Tamarella around year 26, is a Shade. She is considered the prettiest girl in Foxfire but is not interested in dating yet. When she discovered her powers, she bought from the Dizznee shop a silver tainture and put a few silver strands in her black hair but her father told her it was a symbol of social exclusion and she shouldn't just decide to be a pariah if society included her, that being edgy just for the sake of edginess was taking all the meaning out of the gesture. She took it out and replaced it with golden (for her mother's blond hair). She wears her dark and golden hair in a plait.

Zoran (boy), born of Wylinh around year 23. He is a telepath and Andrin's cognate. They play pranks thanks to their ressemblance and power.

Andrin (boy), born of Wylinh around year 23. He is a telepath and Zoran's cognate. He will have Kalea as his number 1 on his matchmaking lists and will date her for a while but nothing will come of it.

Tamhai (boy), born of Wylinh around year 27. He is a hydrokinetic and his mother's sole rival in power. He writes poetry.

Lilla (girl), born of Marunsi around year 35. She is a phaser (actually, one of the only phasers capable of walking through her mother's shields) and is a great singer. She worked with Tamhai Endal to put some of his poems into music when they were both around 30, and that's how they started dating. They then proceeded to get matched, married, and have kids, but that's a different story.

Now concerning the other characters:

Alden and Della want to retire for a few centuries now that the war is over. They train Fitz to take over the management of Evergreen in the mean time.

Bronte is still in the Council and basically told Alina that before he would retire, a new Moonlark would need to be born. Or maybe ten. That was because Alina saw another Councillor resign after Oralie's departure and asked Bronte if he ever thought of retirement.

Oralie was fired by the Council to appease the people after it was revealed that she was a mother. She is disappointed but deals with it by running a charity for Waywards' re-insertion in society.

The Polyglott Lady whose name I can't remember is Keefe's mentor in diplomacy and ogrish language.

Grady and Edaline are still doing their thing of training dinosaurs to be vegans.

Clarette left the Council after Oralie was fired and went to work in the Sanctuary. Ironically, she is less senior than Stina, who started training there before her, and thus is the one going for coffee runs.

While Rex is working alongside Kesler, Bex is on the run for being a robber (à la Arsene Lupin) and Lex is planning to become an instructor at Exillium as soon as he grows tired of traveling around the world (which he does by flying).

Amy is now a 65 y.o. lady who got married with a human and had a daughter named Sophie (her parents love the name but don't know why it feels so dear to them). Sophie II is best friend with Bex, who sometimes jumps into the Forbidden cities to get away from the elvin ''police''. Sophie II was put in the secret of the elves when she got married herself and her aunt Sophie, who she has to keep a secret from her grands parents, arrived at the party with a middle-aged man in a beanie (to hide his ears: Bronte) and had not aged a day or almost since Amy's childhood photos.

Bronte went to Amy's wedding because he was invited as a joke. He then was the +1 of Sophie at Sophie II's wedding. He is trying to pass a bill to allow councillors to have a family and sometimes has friendly matches with Sophie about who can block the other's infliction best. He is getting better but so is Sophie. Elves who don't know them to be rather nice deep down think they are the most terrifying power couple ever since they are both inflictors and more or less friends.

anyway that's my headcanon/hope for the endgame? idk if it makes any sense?

#kotlc #kotlc sophie #kotlc keefe #kotlc fitz #kotlc dex #kotlc biana #kotlc tam #kotlc marella #kotlc linh #kotlc wylie #kotlc maruca #kotlc jensi #kotlc stina

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bumblesimagines · 3 years

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Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself.

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings.

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair.

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table.

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

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icecream-and-gadreel · 4 years

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Chapter 1: Family ties

Series Summary: Jack goes missing days after his father betrays their family by joining another syndicate. Everyone suspects Lucifer but instead of sitting around wondering, Castiel goes to the best detective he knows: Dean Winchester. The cynical detective has lost his lust for life and doesn't want to make his miserable days anymore miserable by being caught between the two biggest crime families in the country. Ever persuasive, Castiel is able to recruit him and start a relationship that neither of them expected.

Summary: Castiel can't bite his tongue around his family anymore. Meanwhile, Dean thinks about retirement up until he finds that his agency has been broken in to.

Pairing: Destiel

Other characters: Samandriel, Sam, Gabriel, Jack(Mentioned), Lucifer(Mentioned) Max, Cassie(Mentioned) Charlie (Mentioned)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, guns, smoking, death mention, threats

Word count: 2800+

A/N: Thank you to my amazing beta @cajunquandry, I appreciate you making this fic sparkle! Anyways I am obsessed with Noir films and bamf!Castiel, so why not feed into both? Enjoy!

Masterlist

Three days missing

Castiel

Cigarette smoke fogs the room, the sound of jazz music combatting the chattering crowd. Sitting in the corner of the bar is Castiel, swirling his beer mindlessly.

It's driving him insane.

His family, all crowded around him, celebrates some meaningless victory and pretend like nothing is wrong. The absolute disregard for Jack's disappearance is enough to make him want to snap. But he doesn't. Instead, he swirls his beer and avoids the looks from his brothers. Samandriel stares at him from across the bar, babysitting a glass of water. He seems to be the only other person that gives a damn. Castiel begins raising to his feet, halting when Sam sits next to him. Sighing, Castiel sinks back into his seat.

“Hey,” Sam says, rolling his sleeves up. Castiel grunts in response, setting his beer down and leaning back in his seat.

“You came.”

“Yeah, uh Gabriel wouldn't stop calling the office so...” Sam shrugs, gesturing for the bartender. He orders a shot of vodka, clearing his throat. “You ok?” he asks, patting Castiel's back.

“Far from it,” he retorts, flicking his eyes to the other man. “He's gone. No trace, no signs, just vanished. I'd feel better if there was a body.”

Sam nods, downing his shot with a huff. “I get it –”

“Do you?,” he snaps, glancing over his shoulder before continuing. “All they talk about is 'loyalty' and 'putting the family first', but the moment it really counts they're nowhere to be seen,” he growls.

Sam nods. “No, I get it, I do,” he says, nodding once more. Before Castiel can respond, Gabriel is throwing his arms around them.

“Stop being a fucking buzz kill!” Gabriel whines, tssking his younger brother. Castiel shakes out of his grasp, whirling around toward the crowd. Gabriel offers him a bottle of whiskey, wiggling his eyebrows. “Live a little, baby bro.”

Snatching the bottle away, Castiel stands from his seat, gaining whoops and hollers from his family.

“Castiel –”

“My nephew,” he begins, cutting Sam off. The crowd goes quiet. “Our nephew has disappeared from the face of the earth.” Castiel swigs from the bottle, a river of liquor running down his neck. “Could be dead or worse.” He smashes the bottle against the ground and Sam flinches back, a look of concern crossing his face. “Excuse me if I'm not 'chipper',” he adds, a faux-smile on his face. The room is silent, even the music has stopped. Castiel stares around at the sea of shocked faces, his chest heaving as the anger bubbles inside of him. “You're all full of shit. Being with family only matters to you when it's fun!”

Sam stands from his seat, patting Castiel's back. “I think we should go,” he whispers, flinching when Gabriel clears his throat.

“Look, we all know Lucifer has him, can't take him from his dad now can we?” Gabriel asks.

They could. All they'd have to do is find the bastard, tell him to give Jack up, and take him home. Castiel considers telling Gabriel this, but heads for the door instead. He ignores the protests from his family, tucking his hands into his pockets and making his way down the road. He pulls a lighter from his pocket with a huff. He looks over his shoulder at the sounds of a car approaching, rolling his eyes.

“Need a ride?” Sam asks, easing the car to a stop. Silently, Castiel leans against the hood of the car, pulling a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “Come on, get in.”

“No, get out.” Sighing, Sam pulls his keys out of the ignition, sulking over to him with a cocked smile. “The detective,” he says, flicking his eyes up to Sam.

“My...brother?” Sam asks, shaking his head when Castiel nods. “It's not gonna happen.”

“He was able to get to Michael. I still don't know how he got close enough,” he says, resting a hand on Sam's arm. “What I do know is if anyone could find Jack, it's him.”

“It's not gonna happen,” he repeats, stiffening as Castiel squeezes his shoulder. “Dean doesn't deal with the mafia,” he adds.

“Please. It's like I'm the only one who gives a damn,” he says, gently rubbing Sam's arm. “I can't do this alone,” he adds. Sam melts under the touch, as he always does, and darts his eyes away.

“It's not that easy,” he mumbles. Castiel flicks his cigarette away before bracing Sam's other arm, a stone look on his face.

“An address. That's all I need. If he says no, then I'll leave,” he says. Sam rolls his eyes and gently urges Castiel's hands away.

“Only if you go back to the bar with me.” Sam points behind himself. “You owe me a shot.” Castiel hums, shrugging.

“Fine.”

–

Four days missing

Castiel stares down at the sloppily written address, squinting his eyes. The ink is smudged thanks to Gabriel spilling a drink all over the napkin, but he thinks he has the right place. He rubs a hand over his eye, trying to shake away his hangover. Never again will he challenge his overgrown lawyer to a drinking contest. He stares down at the address once more, glancing up when he hears humming. A man with caramel skin makes his way to the building, pulling out a set of keys. After opening the door, he disappears into the building.

Glancing around, Castiel draws his gun, jogging across the street and ducking into a nearby crevice. Minutes later the delivery man is reemerging. He sets down his sack of packages and sorts through the keys once more. Castiel creeps up behind him, pressing his gun into the other man's back.

“Don't scream,” he says, voice calm. The man obliges, slowly raising his hands up. “What's your name?”

“Max,” he grunts, looking over his shoulder with a sigh. “I don't carry my wallet, but I think someone ordered a blender,” he says dryly, nodding to the bag.

“I need to get into this building,” he says in a near whisper.

“You couldn't just ask?”

“Would you have let me in?” he retorts. Max shakes his head, sorting through the keys once more and opening the door. He leads Castiel inside, hands still in the air. “Come with me.”

“Why?” Max grows, shooting him a glare. Castiel opens the door to the detective's office, pushing Max in first. The room feels claustrophobic; the mess on the floor and desk isn't helping. It smells faintly of cigarettes and warm cologne. Castiel looks at each corner, noting that there aren't any cameras. He sinks down into the spinning chair behind the desk, gesturing at Max with his gun.

“I'm a very good shot,” he begins, opening a drawer and digging around. “But if I happen to miss, I will find you, and if I find you, things will be much less pleasant than they are now.”

“Wow, you're a blast to deal with,” Max says, leaning against the wall.

Castiel grabs a picture of a stoic man and a curly haired woman from the desk, his gun still aimed at Max. “I've been told recently that I'm not,” he says, furrowing his brow. They both share a solemn look. Dean, he assumes, looks far more intense than Sam described him. He flips the photo over, chuckling under his breath. 'The wife and I try to be serious for once. Didn't work. September '48'. he turns the picture once more, observing Dean before getting back to his main mission. Cameras. Bugs. Recorders. Anything a cop could use to get him caught up. He squats down, running his hand underneath the desk.

“...flies in.”

Castiel frowns, looking up at the source of the voice. His throat runs dry as he trails his eyes over the man before him. Black pants that cling to his bow-legs. A button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing freckle kissed skin. His face falls into a frown, his cherry red lips parted. Castiel forces himself to look away, glancing down at the picture.

Dean.

Dean

Dean tosses a burger on Sam's desk, a toothy grin on his face.

“Mornin' sunshine,” he cooes, gaining a groan from Sam. “Come on, grease is the hangover miracle cure.”

“I just need sleep and...copious amounts of coffee,” the younger Winchester groans, slowly rising from his desk. “...And to never drink again,” he adds, eyeing the burger.

“Yeah, leave it to the professionals buddy,” Dean says, shooting him a wink. Sam furrows his brow and unwraps his burger as he leaves his office.

“Any new cases?”

Dean hums, following Sam out and staring at the sky. The last case had ended with him locking one of the Novak brothers up, and sending another one running for the hills. The months to follow have been almost stagnant. “I think it's time,” he says. Sam bites into his burger, cocking an eyebrow at him. “You know, retirement. No more catching politicians in motels, just me and Baby.”

Sam scoffs. “Yeah, ok.”

“What? I'm serious!” Dean says, gesturing to the air. “Look at this, Sammy,” he says. The sky is blue with few clouds painting the sky. Cars are racing down the street, along with many people hustling on the sidewalks. “I don't get to enjoy this beautiful city anymore.”

Sam chuckles, glancing around. “Someone peed on this 'beautiful' sidewalk,” he says, pointing to a spot on the ground. Dean hops over it, staring at the stain as he passes. “But yeah, you're missing out,” Sam chuckles.

“Ha. I think it'll be good for me, though,” Dean says, stroking a finger along his jaw. “Solving crimes, angry convicts just waiting to catch me in a dark alley. I don't like it anymore.” Sam frowns, tossing the last bite of his burger into his mouth.

“All you've ever talked about is helping people.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean pauses, darting his tongue over his lip. “Just doesn't get me out of bed like it used to,” he says, glancing at his brother. The younger Winchester gives him his trademark puppy dog eyes, making him huff. “What?”

“Being cooped up in the house all day thinking of Cassie isn't healthy, Dean.” He speaks slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's. “Neither is drinking yourself to sleep and waking up next to random strippers. The agency is the only thing that kept you sane,” he adds. Dean chuckles, his chest tightening at the mention of her. At the office. Sitting at home. It doesn't matter, the only person on his mind will always be her. He twists the wedding ring around on his finger, forcing out a laugh.

“You'd make a better shrink than a lawyer.”

“Fine, let's say you quit, what about Charlie? She needs the job and you know it,” Sam says. Dean purses his lips with a shrug. As he approaches his agency, his face sinks. The door is wide open, and on the side of the door sits Max's parcel bag.

“Wait here,” Dean grunts, gaining a perplexed look in return. Slowly, he pokes his head into the door, scanning his eyes over the room. Nothing seems disturbed, save for his door being left open. He scratches his scruff, eyeing the door to his office. Cracked open. “Max, you left the door open,” he yells, making his way toward his office. “Gonna let flies in...” his voice trails away at the scene before him. Max, standing in the corner with his hands up. A vaguely familiar man digging in his desk with a gun aimed at the delivery man. The man stares at Dean silently, blue eyes dancing.

“Go,” the man says, waving his gun at Max. He reluctantly walks out of the room, hands still in the air. “Are there any bugs?” he asks, voice rasping. Dean slowly makes his way to a bottle of whiskey sitting on the window seal, shaking his head.

“Had a couple roaches a while back, other than that, no,” he says, grabbing two glasses. He sets them on his desk, filling the glasses half-way with the liquor. “Dean Winchester. Am I looking at a new client?”

“I hope so,” he says, reluctantly tucking his gun into the back of his pants. Dean offers the man a cup of whiskey, sipping from his own. “This isn't how I imagined this interaction going.”

“I figure either you shoot me, or you pay me. Neither sounds bad these days,” he says, chuckling. The other man remains silent. “So...wife's cheating? Boss stealing from the company? What's the case?”

“A missing person, my nephew,” he says, making his way around the desk. Dean grabs a pen and a piece of crumpled paper, leaning on his desk.

“Fun. What's he look like?” Dean asks.

“Brown hair. About 5'10''. Twenty-two. Blue eyes...” He gulps down his whiskey, wiping his mouth afterward. “I just need to know that Jack is alive.”

Dean jots down a few notes, nodding to himself. “Right, and what's your name?” he asks. The other man pauses, looking to the ground. Dean stares at him silently, rolling his wrist when the man doesn't say anything. “You know, like the thing people call you?”

“Castiel,” he says, biting his lip. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean tosses the pen and paper, clasping his hands together. “There it is. I don't work with murderers. If you need a lawyer, my brother's always taking new clients,” he says, gesturing to the door. “Have a good one.”

Castiel takes a step closer. “Sam is the reason I'm here. I'm out of options.”

“Look, I feel for you, I really do but I'll be damned if I get involved with the mafia,” he says, holding his hands up and shaking his head.

“Who said anything about the mafia?”

“You do realize that I locked up Michael, right?” Dean asks. Castiel clenches his jaw, huffing.

“Jack doesn't deserve to be ignored because of what his family is 'allegedly' involved in,” he says,taking a step closer to Dean. “Name a number, any ridiculous price and it's yours.”

Chuckling, the Winchester crosses his arms over. “I don't take blood money.” He nods to the door. “See ya,” he adds. Sam jogs into the room, staring between the two men with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, what's up with Max?” Sam asks, frowning when his eyes land on Castiel. “Oh, you've met.”

“Yup. We met and now he’s on his way out,” Dean says, sipping his liquor before setting the cup down. Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, chest heaving. Wordlessly, he pulls his gun out, aiming it at Dean.

“I don't think you understand the position you're in.”

“Woah, hey,” Sam says, holding his hands up to Castiel. “Let's calm down.”

“I don't have time for this. I need help, Dean.”

Dean cracks a grin, tilting his head. “I already told you my answer. Burn down my business, shoot me, whatever. I've got nothing to lose.”

“Yeah?” Castiel returns his smile, turning the gun on Sam. “Well, You've got him,” he says. Dean stands from his desk, his smile being replaced with a grimace. “Lay his life on the line, and I'll know you stand for nothing.”

“Castiel,” Sam says, hurt apparent in his tone.

“You love pointing that thing around, huh?” Dean asks, voice wavering. Castiel stares at him blankly, cocking his gun.

“Might I remind you that I've been accused of allegedly killing men for much less. Imagine what I'd hypothetically do to him to gain your cooperation, Detective,” he says. A look of hurt crosses Sam's face, and he turns his eyes to the elder Winchester, letting out a heaving breath. Castiel raises his eyebrows, turning his gun to the ceiling and firing off a round. “In case you thought it wasn't loaded.”

Dean looks between both men, swiping a hand over his face. When Castiel points the gun at Sam, Dean holds his hands out to him. “I'll do it,” he blurts, heart pounding in his chest. Smiling, Castiel de-cocks his gun, looking between both men.

“Thank you, I'll be here first thing tomorrow.”

Eternity squad: @sheinthatfandom @greenshinigamieyes @lipstickandwhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @bcarolinablr @mrswhozeewhatsis @mssunnyone

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nonasidesstuff · 4 years

Text

the dimension travel au

aka Virgil’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

so this is like half bullet fic half outline half word vomit but here it is!

this is based on a set of art drawn by @greenninjagal-blog that you can find here with the original version of this au

i dont mind if anyone wants to use any of these ideas just tag me/send me a link if you do!

this got SUPER LONG so its going under a cut

ok lets start with

virgil

his world is medieval-with-magic

the magic here tends to take on different elemental forms depending on the user

people who use magic are called witches

his is storm based (lightning, rain, wind, etc) and is good for both offense (shooting fucking LIGHTNING at someone is great in a fight) and gardening (the ability to call rain at will is pretty nice)

he can also make potions but in his world ANYONE with magic can make potions

the thing is,,,,, magic is illegal in the kingdom he lives in

so when he found out he had magic at like age 11 he fucked off in the middle of the night

he found another witch (a water witch) fairly soon after he left and they taught him how to control his powers and how to make potions

also how to hunt bc hed planned on living out of cities

5 years later hes 16 and has learned all he could and leaves to go to the woods in the middle of nowhere

his teacher had told him about a cottage they had built in a clearing in the woods and said he could go there bc they were leaving the kingdom

they left behind a lot of books on magic and he learned more reading those

the cottage was actually in pretty good shape? the roof was a little leaky but the furniture inside was fine

the outside was a nightmare though. overgrown plants all over

as the years went on he restored the area around the cottage and found a bunch of neat stuff

like a vegetable garden that had been overgrown and wild but still had healthy plants he could cultivate for food. there were also some spice plants that had gone out of control that he harvested and dried for later use

he found out the woods around his home were full of berries (wild strawberries and blackberries. shhhhhh idc if they dont grow in the same places this is a Magic World) and discovered that one of the trees in the clearing was actually an apple tree so yay fruit!!!!

so he was living the good life

cut to 3 years later

hes 19 now and a full-blown weather witch and potion maker

he has sectioned off his garden into 3 parts: spices, vegetables, and potions ingredients

unfortunately some ingredients just wont grow well in a garden and have to be harvested from the wild

virgil realizes hes running low on a couple of said ingredients and decides to make a run to the patches of potion herbs he knows of

he only gets halfway there

a swirling blue-and-yellow vortex opens up 20 feet in the air to the right of him and something falls out

something human shaped

holy shit its a PERSON

he rushes over to make sure this person is okay and.

they have reddish brown fox ears?????

and a reddish brown and grey tail????????

he pokes one of the ears and it twitches

holy shit theyre REAL????!!!!!!!!!

he gathers up this person and takes them home

he puts the strange person in his bed and tends to the minor injuries they obtained from falling 20 feet

this is when he realizes that this person is dressed,,,,,, very strangely

now, people in virgil’s world have some freedom in what they can wear. they can wear whatever the FUCK they want. virgil is partial to dresses and skirts himself

but what this person is wearing is different. the material was like nothing hed ever seen before and in a strange style

(it suits him. its really cute)

he slept for a little over 9 hours

(virgil slept on the floor)

and when he woke he was disoriented and woozy

so he ate a small meal and drank some water and fell back to sleep for another couple hours

when he wakes again, he feels much better and is able to introduce himself

“I’m Patton Baker! Where am I?”

patton

his world is like if you took every single magical girl/boy anime out there and mashed it into one world.

so its chaotic

theres aliens/demons/monsters attacking every other week

this attracts magical creatures like a magnet and they start giving magical girls/boys powers. these are called magical guardians

these people are public figures and are treated the same way idols are in our world (not allowed boyfriends/girlfriends etc)

its a tough job

patton became a magical boy when he was 14 and has been for the past 3 years

the powers his magical guardian are able to give are based off of endangered or threatened animals (yes im sort of copying tokyo mew mew shhhhhhhhhh)

patton became infused with the dna of the island fox

his transformation is triggered by a small tattoo-like marking given to him by his guardian. it’s on the base of his neck

he Absolutely has a magical girl transformation

when he’s transformed, he has the ears and tail of an island fox as well as claw-like nails. his hair is the reddish-brown of the fox and his eyes are silver

his outfit is light blue with silver and white accents and dark blue sleeves

when detransformed he has blond hair and blue eyes

his magical boy weapon is a bow that he can shoot arrows of light from

his group was based out of florida and has been going strong for about 15 years. magical teens come and go as they gain their powers and retire or, tragically, lose their lives fighting

at the moment there are six people including patton

their most recent foe is a monster that has the ability to make people and things disappear, and they’re not sure what happens to them

theyre fighting this thing at night when it happens. the creature has already taken the streetlights out and the teens are fighting in heavy darkness. patton, who has better night vision due to his fox genes, sees the monster about to grab the leader, and strongest, of their group

and he makes a choice

he pushes her out of the way and gets grabbed by the monster instead.

there’s a single moment of searing pain and then the world dissolves into swirling lights and dizziness

when he wakes he’s in a strange house. he introduces himself and the person who’s taking care of him introduces himself

he’s told he fell out of some sort of portal and virgil tries to help him figure out where he is in relation to his home but. virgil doesnt recognize any of the places patton is talking about. and patton doesnt recognize any of the ones virgil says

virgil asks patton about the fact that He Is Part Fox and patton talks about the magical system back home and thats when they realize theyre dealing with dimension travel

patton stays in bed for the rest of the day and by the next hes feeling much better! so he helps virgil around the house and they get to know each other

the day after that, virgil remembers that he really needs those herbs, so he tells pat hes going out for a bit to gather them

he gets about a quarter of the way there when Another Portal Opens and dumps out a person. this time right in front of him

this person is also wearing odd

clothing, but in a different style than pattons

he checks to make sure theyre not injured (they knocked their head a bit but other than that seem fine) and carries them back home

the person is unconscious in virgil’s bed for a couple of hours longer than patton was, but he wakes up entirely coherent

he introduces himself as “logan croft”

logan

his world is one full of magic

magical creatures of all sorts live there and magic is a welcome part of society

there’s elves, fairies, merfolk, unicorns, any you can think of

magical schools are also big parts of it

people who have mastered their magic to the highest degree are called mages

everyone else are called wizards

the way magic works in this world is with spells (think harry potter but without wands)

some people are born with more magic than others and as such have a harder time controlling it when it manifests at around 10

so theyre sent to magic schools where they learn how to safely do so

if they want to stay at these schools after they learn control then they move on to higher forms of magical education to continue learning

logan is one of these students

he was born with a MASSIVE amount of magic and when it manifested he. accidentally leveled his house

everyone was fine!!!!!!! but the poor boy had absolutely no control

so he stayed at a school for people with high amounts of magic and by the time he was 13 he had enough control to leave if he wanted to

of course this being logan he Absolutely wanted to keep learning so he moved on

he was so good actually that he ended up in the best magic academy in the world

he consistently learned magic at a faster rate than his peers and so by the time he was 18 (people normally didnt until they were like 21/22) he was a mage in all but name

so he was ready to take his mage exam

the mage exam is considered both easy and the hardest and most dangerous thing you could do

its easy in the fact that you only have to cast a spell correctly

its hard and dangerous bc its a spell that NO ONE outside of historians have ever seen before and you only have 10 minutes to memorize it. things go wrong Frequently

needless to say there arent many mages and people tend to either quit before reaching that stage or fail

and failure can be painful

so logan decides to take the mage exam

the spell they are given is a long string of words dug out of an ancient book of spells and historians arent entirely sure what it does

so ofc its given to the best in the academy

logan takes his ten minutes to memorize the spell and begins chanting

now in this world, when spells are used a runic circle made of light appears under the person casting

small spells have small circles and bigger spells have larger and brighter ones

the one this spell called forwards was massive and so bright that it blinded the exam practitioners (i think thats the word?)

when the light died down logan was gone

theyre unsure whether it went right or wrong but unfortunately theres no trace of where logan had gone so theres no way to see

when he wakes hes somewhere he doesnt recognize and is being taken care of by two people

they all introduce themselves and logan gets the story about what happened to him

and he realizes hes in a different dimension with different magical rules

naturally he wants to learn everything

so he and virgil have long discussions about the differences in their magic systems

(with patton chiming in every once in a while with how bonkers magical girl powers are)

after logan gets back on his feet virgil really REALLY needs those herbs and so he decides to go back out

logan tags along this time bc he wants to see the differences between the flora and fauna of this new world

they get about half way there and once again.

a portal opens

its light blue and yellow

virgil goes “jesus christ AGAIN??????? am i a MAGNET for these things??????????”

and a person falls out

theyre another animal person. this time with scales covering the side of their face and down their arms

virgil and logan carry this whole other person back home and as soon as they walk in

patton is like “janus????!!!!!”

janus

turns out

janus is from pat’s world!!!! and the same mg group!!!!!

he became a magical boy about a year before pat did and was merged with the dna of a golden lancehead viper

so hes been a mg for like 4 years

his outfit is white with yellow bows and a black cape thing with a yellow inside. his scales are bright yellow and his eyes are heterochromatic. one is a normal eye (brown) and the other is a bright gold color with a snake-like pupil

his marking is on the inside of his left wrist

his weapon is a set of knives made of light that he can call at will and either slash with or throw

he and patton got along rather well in the current time

in the past, they,,,, didnt

it wasnt violent but they were kinda snippy at each other and janus was aggressively sarcastic which pat Did Not Appreciate

but after working together for a few years they got to know each other better and saw each other through low points in their lives and became close

janus was still a sarcastic little shit but now its more playful

he likes to suggest “pushing it down a flight of stairs” for any problem

“man i have a big math test tomorrow with a mean teacher that i didnt study for im screwed”

“push it down the stairs”

“the teacher or the test?”

“yes”

he will also aggressively remind you that Self Care Is Good And Needed

(“patton youve been patrolling for hours every night this week. go sleep”

“but i-“

“go 👏 to 👏 sleep 👏”

“bu-“

“go sleep or im going to knock you unconscious and THEN youll sleep”

“ok fine”)

anyways the dimension monster came back and despite the whole group being more careful, it got janus

luckily (to every one else) this time they managed to defeat it

once again, the pain of dimensional travel fucking SUCKED and janus was unconscious for about as long as patton was

he woke and ate a small meal and fell back asleep for like an hour

when he woke up that time he was shocked and happy to see patton

they reunite and everyone gets to know each other over the next couple days

and then virgil remembers that he STILL HASNT GOTTEN HIS HERBS and they all decide to tag along when he leaves to get them

virgil just like sighs and said “nothing better happen this time i swear to god-“

and they make it most of the way there!!!!! virgil feels a little hope!!!!

then another portal opens

its red and green

(virgil: “GODDAMMIT”)

this time TWO people fall out

the group gather up the two portal people and take them home to heal bc

holy shit they are in bad condition

theyre unconscious for a solid 2 days

Roman and remus

their world is BAD yall

the world is very scientifically advanced, and a group if scientists decided that they wanted to prove the existence of alternate universes

and they did!

but they accidentally opened a portal to a hell dimension and they couldnt close it

so the whole world became an apocalyptic nightmare

this happened when the twins were 15

theyve been surviving on their own in an apocalyptic hellscape for just over 4 years now

remus is the close range fighter with a variety of Large Sharp Knives and roman hangs back and snipes the ones going in for remus’ blind spots with a modified rifle. or if he has to fight closer range he has a modified pistol

roman also is the one to carry their medical supplies bc remus did Once and never will again

they travel together bc even though they cant stand each other some days (remus makes gross comments a Lot and roman likes to complain about the lack of conditioner)

(roman once found an old bottle of perfume and dumped it on remus’ head. in retaliation, when they were relatively safe remus found a dead squirrel and chased roman around with it for a solid 15 minutes)

theyre still twins and theyre all each other have left

currently, roman and remus are running from a creature that caught them off guard while they were sleeping

it had managed to get a few good hits on them before they managed to fight back so they both have a couple injuries

roman has a long slice down his arm and remus has some real bad claw marks down his back

the two of them find a building they can hide in while they wait for the creature to move on and discover that its some sort of science lab

they decide to explore for a bit bc they have 0 braincells between the two of them

what they dont realize is that this is one of the labs that the scientists were using to build their dimensional machines

what they do realize is that the monster found them and it starts chasing them through the facility

the two of them are in really bad shape

malnourished after living on just what they can find for 4 years, both bleeding profusely from open wounds and various injuries from other run-ins with the creatures

they arent able to run as fast as they usually are able and so they get cornered in a room with a large machine

they back up to it to stay away as long as they can and

one of them presses a button

the machine behind them whirrs to life and the two are sucked into a portal oh so similar to the one that ruined the lives of everyone on their world

roman wakes first

he wasnt hurt as badly as remus so the portal didnt take as much out of him as remus

everyone introduces themselves and roman has the his first full meal in. a long time

(he might cry a lil bit but shhhhhhh)

and now that hes awake, virgil can give him a potion to help speed up his healing

thats when romans like “holy shit MAGIC?????”

bc there was none on his world

and they all talk and get to know each other

(the other four are Horrified at how awful his world was

bc like, patton and janus’ wasnt very good either but it wasnt an apocalypse

the next day virgil leaves logan in charge and FINALLY goes and gets his GODDAMN HERBS

nothing happens this time :)

and when he gets back remus is awake

hes fed and virgil gets him a potion too

the two heal and just kind of marvel at the fact theyre safe for the first time in years

also that theres GODDAMN MAGIC!!!!!!!!!!

they still can’t believe theres actual magic

the five dimension hoppers eventually meet thomas, virgil’s talking magic cat

(virgil: “he can think and talk like a human hes not my cat”

thomas: “im totally your cat stop denying it”)

he decided to wander around the forest for a while (he does this often) and only got back after all of the portal shit ended

he is the only cat with magic and says he ALSO fell out of a portal but it was a few years before he met virgil

i dont really know what happens after this

maybe they go try to figure out how to get home?

maybe they decide to stay and live in the woods for the rest of their lives

maybe they decide “you know what? FUCK the government” and stage a coup to make magic legal

whichever it is definitely has a lot of found family goodness

can you tell i started running out of steam like 3/4 of the way through

#My posts #sanders sides #tss dimension hopper au #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders

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anonwriter27 · 3 years

Text

Trust in Me Ch4

Here is the next chapter, hope you enjoy!

Loki had been on Midgard for five days, sixteen hours, 47 minutes, and 12 seconds. Not that he had been counting or anything.

Life seemed so mundane here. He would wake up, shower, get dressed, raid the fridge for something he could eat without having to cook, or conveniently poke his head out of his room when Vision had begun cooking.

He would eat and then he would read. Occasionally he would train with Thor when he was allowed to leave the apartment, but that was not often. Loki was on some form of house arrest; he could roam the tower and the lawn but not further.

It’s not like Loki longed to be out in the city he had nearly destroyed, he just hated feeling like a dog on a short leash.

Loki pondered his new normal as he sat on one of the plush sofa’s in the living area, with the faint noise of Vision sautéing onions in the kitchen.

The ‘ping’ of the elevator doors startled Loki from his melancholy.

“Hey Vision! Hey Mr. Loki!” Peter called out, as he entered the room., large backpack in tow.

Loki nodded in the boy’s direction while Vision gave a warm smile.

“Lovely to see you Peter, here for another tutoring session?” Vision inquired.

Peter sighed, “Yeah, I just don’t get this book Vis. Thank goodness for Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, Loki’s gaze shifted from the book in hand to the young spiderling.

As if on que, Y/N emerged from her room carrying a stack of books so high they obscured her vision of the path ahead.

She tilted from side to side, a slight wobble in her step as she walked, but managed to get the books to the coffee table in one piece.

With a satisfied sigh Y/N looked up to take in her surroundings. Loki noticed her posture shift ever so slightly, altering from relaxed to slightly more restrained.

‘Why must she be so guarded in her own home?’ Loki thought.

“Ready Peter?” Y/N spoke in a soft voice, as she took a seat in the sofa opposite Loki.

Peter removed his backpack and slumped onto the sofa in the seat next to the trickster.

“Is anyone ready for Mary Shelley? Why can’t we just do science or engineering?” Peter whined dramatically, with an arm swung over his eyes in mock despair.

“Because you’re not failing science or engineering.” Vision said as a matter of fact, unaware of any offence given.

“Damn that was shady.” Peter mumbled.

“Frankenstein is a beautifully written book…once you get the hang of it.” Y/N spoke, the tiniest hint of a sparkle in her eyes.

As Y/N began to discuss the intricacies of writing structure and character development, Loki found he was drawn further and further out of his own reading. He was intrigued to hear her analysis.

The girl was clearly well read; she spoke with an authority when she discussed literature, there was a confidence in her tone that implied she knew the subject like the back of her hand. This was the most Loki had heard her speak since he had arrived.

“But why does the monster resent Victor? Victor gave him a life and a home. It doesn’t make sense.” Peter said confused and clearly exhausted.

“The creature doesn’t resent Victor; he resents the constraints put upon him.” Y/N explained.

At this point both Vision and Loki were watching her tutor Peter; she was quite a wonder to behold when she was passionate, her eyes sparkled. She smiled as she spoke too, as if the conversation gave her true enjoyment.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

“Well, the creature did not ask to be made. He was forced into a world that wasn’t ready for him, expected to know what had not been taught, and to act with morals that had not been demonstrated. Why should he bow his head in apology when no one apologised for making him that way?”

Y/N’s words grew quieter as she neared the end of her speech, a sudden shyness at the realisation she had an audience.

“I never looked at it that way.” Peter spoke thoughtfully.

Peter’s phone buzzed, his alarm telling him the session was over.

“Thanks Y/N, you’re a life saver!” Peter smiled,

Y/N gave a shy smile with a faint blush tinting her cheeks. She began to assort her books into an overly tall pile, walking on uneven footing as she took them back to her room.

Loki inadvertently smiled at the sight.

“Are you guys coming to the firework show tonight?” Peter asked after slugging his heavy backpack onto his shoulders.

“Miss Maximoff and I will be there.” Vision confirmed.

“Mr Loki?”

Loki looked to the spider child, “No, I don’t think I will.”

Peter smiled, “Maybe next time then.” He said, his tone assuring.

Loki gave a tight-lipped smile, “Maybe.”

Peter hesitated, “Should I ask Y/N?”

Vision gave a sad smile, “She won’t come Peter.”

Peter nodded sadly but accepted Visions answer.

Loki wondered how many times she had declined an offer like that.

Y/N returned from her room a little while later and watched Vision, Peter and Wanda wrap themselves up in scarves and winter coats. Wanda was giddy with excitement at trying the hot apple cider. They waved excitedly, Peter promising to bring Y/N back a candy apple.

Y/N looked longingly at their retreating forms. Perhaps it would have been fun to join them, to see the bright colours of the fireworks first-hand, and to smell the hot butter from the popcorn stand.

‘I bet it would be fun.’ Y/N thought.

The few times Y/N had dared to leave the tower had ended in disaster. Even when Tony made Happy and Rhodey go with her for protection, she had been met with shouts of abuse. One man had hurled a horribly lewd comment her way, prompting Rhodey to put him in a headlock.

Everyone seemed on high alert when Y/N left the tower; they couldn’t relax out of fear someone would attack or verbally abuse her. That wasn’t fair on them, they worked hard for their time off, they deserved to relax.

So eventually she stopped going out, it was safer that way.

Y/N was snapped put of her dwellings by Loki’s voice.

“If you want to go with them you should just go.” Loki spoke with disinterest, an admittedly poor attempt to hide his intrigue.

Y/N hesitated, “That’s okay, I can watch from the window.” She forced a smile, but she knew it hadn’t reached her eyes.

It would be just her and Loki in the apartment tonight, and Y/N began to wonder how to process that fact.

Should she retire early? It was only seven o’clock, maybe she could make some warm milk and fall asleep to a good movie.

Or she could talk to him.

He had shown her small kindnesses in the few days he had been at the tower. When she was struggling socially, he didn’t push but he didn’t turn away, he just let her be.

She could do the same.

So she did.

“Um..” She started, successfully grabbing attention.

“Would you like to watch with me?” She asked, hands trembling under her overgrown sleeves.

“Excuse me?” Loki asked, unsure of the question.

“The umm… fireworks? We can watch the show from here.” She said, gesturing to the large window of their apartment, looking over the city.

“If you want to…” She said, beginning to feel foolish.

“If you want to.” Loki thought over her words. Did he want to?

Over the last few days, the two of them had seemingly developed an understanding. They were content to be around each other without pressing for personal details. But, if Loki agreed to actively take part in something with her, did that make this something more?

Did it make them friends? Granted, he found himself gravitating towards her company more than anyone else’s in the tower, mostly because she was quiet and wouldn’t look at him with disdain. But friendship seemed excessive, he wasn’t here to make friends.

No, he wouldn’t entertain the thought of socialising with this girl. He didn’t care if she wanted to watch the fireworks, she can go watch them by herself, in her room, away from him. He would, by no means, make this into something more than it was. Absolutely not.

“Okay.” Loki said.

Clearly his mouth and mind were out of sync.

#loki x reader #loki fandom #loki odinson #thor #peter parker #vision #wanda #rhodey #tony stark #avengers

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redfire-blackash-whitegold · 4 years

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Blessed are the Vagrant

It’s not unheard of, someone getting lost on a heist. It doesn’t even necessarily denote a heist gone wrong, though it is usually one that’s gone somewhat sideways. Someone gets injured, or separated, or temporarily caught by some non-police entity, or else they just miss their transport and have to take the long way around the cops in order to get home.

In this case it was an injury, though only a light concussion and minor head blood. Ryan woke up in a vineyard, though how he got there, he couldn’t remember. He could remember everything else, his name, his crew, he even remembered the better part of the heist. They were targeting a rich estate out just northwest of Vinewood Hills, small crew, low cops, mostly just personal security to watch out for. He remembered all that fine, just not how he ended up with a head wound out in the grapes.

Ryan took off his jacket and mask and threw them over the fence where they wouldn’t be found immediately by seasonal workers checking on the vines. It was still spring and the vines had been recently pruned, though the leaves were starting to bud and spread out again. The farmhouse was close, on the bottom of the hill separate from the winery that looked down on it from above. Ryan brushed off the dirt on his jeans, but there was no way to really get clean under the circumstances. His head hurt, and his eyes felt blurry like he wasn’t wearing his contacts, though he knew he must be based on how dry his eyes were after having slept with them in.

It was maybe six in the morning, from what Ryan could tell. The sun had just come up and the sky was a pale, cool blue. It was slightly chilly with the morning but it was clearly on track to becoming a nice day. He knocked on the door of the farmhouse. The sound of metal clanging and the slight smell of natural gas suggested that someone was cooking inside. The noise stopped for a second and the front door opened, revealing an old woman, slightly hunched over, wearing a hand-knit sweater and a long skirt. She moved slowly but was alert, and she took in the sight in front of her quickly.

“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but I can’t seem to get any service around here, and was wondering if I could use your phone,” Ryan said.

“Oh my goodness!” The woman replied. “You’re bleeding! Come in, come in, we should get that looked at right away.”

She motioned him in, and walked urgently as she could to a cupboard to retrieve a bin full of bandaids and creams. Ryan stepped in very slightly before taking a quick look around, looking for people, danger, weapons. The farmhouse was small, and ancient. It opened into the kitchen, and had an awkward layout that had a single wall separate the kitchen from the living room that was complete with the kind of old easy-chairs that you might expect to see in an older home. There didn’t seem to be any indication of anyone else living there, and no immediate danger, so he walked in to the landing and kicked off his shoes.

“You must have had quite the night,” the woman said. Ryan cringed slightly and started to speak, before she cut him off. “Uh uh uh, I don’t want to hear it. Whatever brought you here is none of my business. I’d rather not ask at all then hear some half-baked excuse.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Now now, none of that ‘ma’am’ business, I know I’m old. Call me Gran, it’s what the kids at the wineshop call me,” Said Gran. “Come, sit here, make yourself comfortable, let me take a look at your forehead.”

She tended to his wound and Ryan, somewhat out of it from the concussion, let her. She had been getting ready to cook pancakes on the stove when he arrived, and so and offered him some, which he hungrily accepted. Gran also offered him a shower, which Ryan was much more hesitant to accept.

“Oh, of course, that must be strange, taking a shower in some stranger’s home. You really should get cleaned up though, I’ll give you a washcloth and I’ll throw your clothes into the wash. You should fit into my husband’s old clothes, rest his soul, and then I can give you a drive back into the city when they’re ready.” Gran explained that she didn’t have a landline or a phone of her own, and the winery was closed and locked for the day. “I haven’t had a key to that place since that big corporation bought us out and did all these renovations a few years back. They kept me on as an official owner, but it’s just a figurehead position.”

“It must be tough to not have a part in it anymore,” Ryan said.

“It is, it is, but they are paying me well enough, so I can live out my retirement in comfort. It gives me more time for my hobbies.”

In exchange for the pancakes, Gran put Ryan to work around the house. She said that one of the neighbours liked to check in on her that normally helped out, but it had been a few days and some work needed to be done. She had Ryan doing some cleaning, mostly dusting the lights and ceiling fans as well as the baseboards, places up high and low that were difficult for her with her low mobility. She had him gardening as well, weeding her front garden bed, which was slightly overgrown but still well cared for, and chopping down a few branches off of trees that hung over her gravel driveway so that cars wouldn’t drive into them. The compost pile was out behind the house and a ways away, and along the way were a few grape vines growing wildly along a freestanding wire fence. These plants were further along than the ones in the vineyard; the vines that had been pruned away were almost completely grown back, and they hung down far enough that they almost touched the ground. There was a slight smell of rotting, and the ground was dark and soft from where fresh compost had recently been added on top of the roots.

Ryan spent a few minutes tucking the long vines into the fence so that they looked less wild. It was pretty different from the kind of work he was used to. Cleaning, sure, he had been cleaning things his entire life, from vacuuming the penthouse to cleaning up crime scenes, he was familiar with being thorough. But gardening, or farming, that was new. It was a nice feeling, nurturing something that was alive, being outside in the fresh air away from the city noise.

“You did a lovely job there, and I didn’t even ask you to do it,” Gran appeared behind him. “You didn’t rip a single leaf.”

“I don’t think it’s for me, in the long run.”

“No, I suppose not.” Gran said. “In any case, it’s time for lunch. I’ve made tea and sandwiches.”

Ryan sat down at the breakfast nook, and Gran put out a large serving plate with a number of sandwiches cut into neat triangles onto the table for them to take from, along with two mugs of black tea and some plates.

“This looks great thanks,” Ryan said and took a sip of his tea. “I’d be happy to clean the dishes afterwords.”

“Thank you dear, I think I’ll manage on my own. You worry about lunch.”

The two ate mostly in silence, far more interested in the food than the conversation. Ryan was normally a fast eater, but he started to slow down as time went on. His movements in general were slower and slower, and his eyes became less focused, far worse than what the concussion did to him. He tried to stand up, but ended up on the floor instead.

“Well, it’s about time now isn’t it?” Gran said. “Dreadfully sorry about this dear, but at my age, I just can’t afford to pick up someone from the city. At least I doubt anyone will miss you.”

“What did you do to me?”

“Just a little poison in the tea, not enough to kill you just yet. I just so rarely get to do this anymore, I’ve found myself spending more and more time with my guests lately.”

“You sound like you’re talking about bridge night, not serial murder,” Ryan said. He smiled, almost proud. “Forgive me if this sounds rude, but how are you moving the bodies around? You don’t seem like you could do it on your own.”

“My dear husband used to help me with these things, but he introduced me to a friend of his before he died that helps me from time to time.”

“Ah, I thought as much,” Ryan said, and neatly stood up. Gran gasped in surprise. “I should get going quickly then, before he gets here. I’m in no condition for a fight.”

“How is it not affecting you?” Gran moved her chair back from the table, but didn’t stand up.

“The poison wasn’t in the tea, it was in the sandwiches. You might have risked a nervous visitor like me not drinking strange liquids, but the sandwich pile would have been seen as safe to eat, since you were eating from the same pile,” Ryan said. “If you had only poisoned some, you would have risked me eating the wrong ones, as well as forgetting which were safe for yourself. The better bet is to just poison them all and take the antitoxin while I was still out in the yard. So I just took the antitoxin myself while I was dusting the bathroom.”

“How did you know?”

“Well I couldn’t find the antitoxin for the longest time, until I stumbled across your medicine cabinet,” Ryan said. “Pill bottles are a great way to hide something like that, and it would be easy for you to remember that way. Take this pill before bed, this pill before dinner, this pill before killing. I wasn’t completely sure which was the antitoxin, so I just took one of everything. I’m prooobably going to have an interesting night tonight. Oh, and then I switched around all the pill bottles so all your drugs are labeled wrong. In other words, chances are decent that you just took some kind of heart medication instead of the anti.” Sure enough, Gran was looking pale and was moving slow.

“Oh, sorry, did you mean how did I know that I was in danger?” Ryan continued, starting to enjoy it more. “You have spots of old blood inbetween your floorboards, you adapted way too quickly to a large man covered in blood at your door, and my cellphone had service not a ten minute walk from here last night. Probably the most damning, of course was your compost pile, though I wouldn’t have had enough time to notice before lunch if that’s all I was going off of. I know the smell of rotting human, and it’s different from the smell of rotting leaves. Dreadfully sorry Gran, but you made just one mistake. I’m not just some vagrant like the ones you and your husband used to pick up. You don’t have a TV or computer so you probably wouldn’t know.

“I’m THE vagrant. The Vagabond”

#fahc #fake ah crew #fahc ryan

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atsixesandcevans · 4 years

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my only wish (this year)

Summary: The world is different after the events of the snap, and that causes both you and Steve to make major changes in your respective lives, unknowingly pushing yourselves towards each other.

Both unlucky in love, and both longing for something fundamentally missing in your lives, what happens when you – quite literally – crash land into each others’ lives?

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: this was written for @capcountdownchristmas‘s challenge with the prompt of the song My Only Wish (This Year) by Britney Spears, though it ended up being only loosely based on that hahaha!

set post-endgame, except everyone’s alive and nobody’s sad :)

this will be a small series, I’m not sure how many parts there’ll be or when they’ll be posted but they are in the works, so please feel free to send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in this or any other of my works :)

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

November 2023

The disappearances – people had started calling it the snap, though you weren’t entirely sure why – had changed you. Changed everyone, really, in one way or the other. Every single person in the world either lost someone to the whims of the mad titan, or had been lost themselves.

You had been walking through Central Park when the screaming started. Panicked shouts of names, people disintegrating before your eyes. Your confusion morphed into dizziness, stumbling on your feet a little as you slowed to a stop. A gasp was caught in your throat as you looked down at your body that was half-gone already, fear swelling in your chest before everything went black.

When you woke up what felt like five minutes later, you were still in the park, but it felt… different, somehow. The sky seemed darker, the trees less vibrant. All around you, people were on the ground, matching confused expressions as they sat up, passers by rushing to help people up. Someone came and held your hand, pulling you to your feet, and you stuttered out a strained “what happened?”

The stranger’s confused but hopeful eyes scanned you for injuries, while they replied, “you’re not gonna believe me.”

Five years. They told you it had been five years since Thanos – whatever the hell that was – wiped out half the planet. You found it near impossible to fathom that half a decade had passed without you – without 50 percent of the world’s population.

Just like the rest of the world, you went on with your life as usual. At least, you tried to. You really did try, but each time you got up and went to the boring office job you hated, making the same small talk with co-workers you didn’t care to be friends with, every time you came home to your drab, empty apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was fundamentally missing.

It seemed that the snap had put things in perspective for a lot of people; walking home at the end of the day, surrounded by couples holding hands, going on dates. Even your friends were in love; two of them had had a romantic epiphany in the midst of the grief surrounding the snap, and had been in a happy relationship ever since. You were happy for them, of course, but you couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that you felt whenever you saw them kiss or be romantic around you. You longed for what they had; someone for you to love, who loved you in return. Another person to share your little corner of the world with, someone to celebrate the highs and commiserate the lows of life with. You yearned for it, and held out hope that you’d have that someday, and yet every year that went by, every birthday, every Christmas spent alone made that hope dwindle further and further.

You were stood in front of the coffee machine in the break room at work a month or so after the snap was fixed when you had what you could only describe as a moment of clarity. It dawned on you that the only way your life was going to change was if you changed it yourself. It was then that you decided that you would live your life the way you wanted to, no exceptions.

So, the next morning, you handed your two-weeks’ notice to your boss, and started looking for a house in Brooklyn, where you grew up.

Luck was on your side, it seemed, because you quickly found a small, reasonably priced (for Brooklyn) brownstone house in the Clinton Hill neighbourhood. After a viewing, you used your savings to buy the place, and within a month you were all moved in, with a part-time job lined up at a nearby art gallery to keep on top of your finances while you pursue your passion for art.

You still felt the absence of deep human connection, but you could only hope that the changes you had made would only bring more good things your way.

Steve had been staying upstate in Tony’s house since the defeat of Thanos and he had returned the stones to their rightful places in their respective timelines. Upon his return, Steve passed his shield on to Sam, who he knew would do a great job in the role of Captain America, officially hanging up his suit and finally allowing himself to just exist, without the responsibility that being in the Avengers had brought.

For two months, Steve had been helping Tony with the rebuild of the compound, as well as figuring out what role everyone would play in the new Avengers. It was quickly decided that Tony, like Steve, would be retiring, to spend time with his family and watch Morgan grow up. Bucky and Sam would lead the team, with Wanda and Peter working alongside them to tackle the evils of the world. Natasha decided to finally put aside the Black Widow title, though she would remain at the compound as an agent, leading the training of the new recruits for both S.H.I.E.L.D and the Avengers, as well as acting as a kind of logistics support for missions. And Bruce would continue as he always did; conducting experiments and continuing to use science and technology to make the world a better place.

With everyone settling into their roles, Steve found himself feeling almost restless. He had agreed to remain a semi-active member of the team, offering advice and support to the active members, but ultimately decided that he would move back into his house in Brooklyn and rediscover who Steve Rogers was outside of the Captain America image.

And so, he made the move back to Brooklyn, with the minimal belongings he had with him upstate stashed in a duffel bag, and the motorcycle that was almost an exact replica of his old one that Tony somehow had hidden away at the back of his garage. He had handed him the keys with a shrug and a non-committal “let’s just call it a little retirement present, from me to you.” Steve still often found himself baffled by his friend, but he couldn’t deny the genuine affection that had developed between them over the years.

As Steve re-entered the city, he was reminded of just how much he loved living here; sure, it could be loud and dirty and crowded at times, and there were definitely too many hipster coffee shops around… but it was home. Despite the changes that had inevitably happened in the 80 years or so since he grew up there, there was still the same feel to the place, the old brownstone buildings lining the streets reminding him of the apartment where he lived with his mother, the kids that often played in the streets reminding him of all the times he was ill and wishing that he could be out there with them. His memories of this place were good and bad, sure, but for the first time in a while he found himself thankful for the body given to him by the serum; he finally had the physical wellness and the free time to able to go out and enjoy his city in a way he never had been before.

Steve walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he made the walk from where he parked his bike to his front door. There were more cars about now than there were last time he was here, so he ended up having to park almost half a block away. As he passed the house next to his, he noticed that the small garden that was overgrown and messy was now neat and tidy, and there were potted plants on the stoop, as well as heavy curtains that replaced the tattered blinds that once covered the windows.

He was so preoccupied looking at the clearly now inhabited house and wondering who it was who had finally bought the place, that he didn’t notice you coming from the other direction, eyes glued to your phone screen as you read through an email from your boss.

The two of you collided, and Steve tripped on uneven ground, sending him falling backwards, landing on his back. In your attempt to remain on your feet, you ended up tripping over the same bit of ground, and landed on what you could feel was an incredibly defined chest, both of you releasing a soft grunt at the impact. Glancing up towards his face, ready to apologise, you were taken aback and your words caught in your throat at the sight of easily the most beautiful man you had ever seen; strong features, soft beard spread across what you could tell was an angular jaw, and long lashes framing eyes the prettiest shade of periwinkle blue.

You suddenly became very aware of how close your face was to his, and immediately felt a blush creep onto your face as you hastily moved to push yourself up and off him, rattling off a litany of oh god I’m so sorry and I wasn’t looking where I was going. The stranger smiled almost shyly at you, cheeks tinted pink, probably from the cold evening air, as he shook his head and got back on his feet, insisting “please, it’s my fault entirely, I should have been paying more attention. Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness; he was the one who had landed flat on his back with a whole other person on top of him, and he was asking you if you were okay?

Realising that he was still waiting for an answer, you cleared your throat before replying with a chuckle, “apart from a couple bruises to my dignity, I think I’m okay.”

His laugh shook his whole body, his face scrunching up in the most adorable way, and an inexplicable warmth spread through your chest at the sound, finding yourself desperate to hear it again.

You bit your lip to suppress a grin as he held out his hand in greeting. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Taking hold of his hand, you noticed just how warm it was, despite being bare in the cold winter air, and introduced yourself, adding “I promise I don’t make a habit out of literally running into strangers outside my house.”

Steve cocked his head to one side, confusion across his face. “Your house?”

“Yeah, I live just there,” you said, pointing to the house he had just passed – the one that he was busy thinking about when he bumped into you.

A wave of understanding crossed his face before he let out a surprised laugh, nodding to the house next door, the one you had been passing not five minutes earlier. “I live next door.”

It was your turn to be confused. “You do? I’ve never seen anyone go in or out of that house in the two weeks I’ve been living here.”

Steve chuckled wryly. “Yeah, I’ve had some… business to deal with upstate, so I was gone for a few months.” He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t completely open about being an Avenger – or, ex-Avenger, now – but subconsciously, a part of him wanted to live as Steve Rogers from Brooklyn, instead of the persona he had been presented as for many years… and that same part of him wanted you to know him only as that version of him.

You nodded, though the expression on your face told him you were unconvinced by his bending of the truth. The two of you stood in silence for several moments, looking at each other with soft smiles on your faces, until you finally broke the silence. “Well, I um… I should probably head inside, it’s getting late.”

Steve nodded, though he couldn’t help the inkling of disappointment he felt. You both shared a soft goodnight with a smile before you moved past him and through the wrought-iron gate leading up to your door. It was as you were unlocking the door that you heard him call your name and you turned towards where he stood at the bottom of his own stoop steps. “Yeah, Steve?”

He looked oddly nervous, a shy smile on his lips as he fiddled with his keys, an almost imperceptible pink tinge to his cheeks. “I don’t suppose you’d want to grab a coffee with me sometime, would you? I’d love to make it up to you for knocking you over, and it’d be nice to get to know my new neighbour a little.”

His voice was hopeful, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Sure, I’d love to. But there’s really nothing to make up for, I was the one who knocked into you.”

Steve smiled wide, though he shook his head a little, getting the feeling that he wouldn’t win the fight with you about who bumped into who. “How does 11 o’clock Friday sound?”

You mentally checked your availability before grinning brightly at him. “Sounds perfect.”

#captain America countdown to christmas #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers/you #christmas #fluff #beth writes

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cryoculus · 4 years

Text

Lunaris [7/11]

!! HEADS UP !! Trigger warnings for graphic depictions of violence and blood imagery in this chapter are put up as well, albeit minimal.

Navigation

Chapter Title: Eclipse Pairing: Yokai!Akaashi Keiji/Reader Word Count: 3,263

***

Going on an hour's worth of a jog is a staple for quiet Sunday mornings like these. You stuck by routine religiously, despite that ground-breaking revelation the previous night because...well, you didn't have a reason to remain idle. So what if you're the perpetrator for stealing a yokai's heart? The moment you opened your eyes at the first breath of dawn, you were unknowingly filled with a newfound resolve.

You weren't going down without a fight.

"Oba-san, I'll head off now!"

Your grandmother was in the middle of her morning prayers, so the lack of a response was understandable. But even when you were already descending the steps from the foyer, you could still feel her gaze following your retreating form. For a moment, you had half the mind to go back and tell her that you were okay. That everything's fine. That you definitely won't let some half-dead creature get the best of you because you didn't have the blood of the Amatsukis running in your veins for nothing.

Each breath came out deep and smooth. After years of running across fields and ovals, it's only normal that you've got your breathing under reins. The temperature wasn't too sweltering for your taste either, and the comfortable feel of the wind breezing past your shoulders only egged you on to pick up the pace.

Descending the hill in these runs granted you a view of the sun climbing up the sky once you passed the roadside overlooking the city. The waking dawn was slightly obscured by a thicket of trees and overgrown vegetation, but the daylight managed to pierce through the leaves either way—bathing your skin in warmth of the sun.

The only thought that managed to surface in your mind was, "It would suck if I died and didn't get to see this anymore, huh."

"(Surname)?"

You stopped in your tracks the moment you spotted a familiar face climbing up the hill. Bokuto, who also seemed to be going on a run from the clothes he's wearing, gaped at you, surprised.

"Bokuto-san?" you breathed, trotting over to the ace. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned back at you, and it's hard to miss the way the morning light made the gold of his eyes glimmer even brighter. "I was just headed up the shrine to offer some prayers," he said, but his initial cheeriness faltered for a moment—regressing into quaint embarrassment. "And, uh, I kind of wanted to check on you. After what happened last night, and all."

"Oh," was all that you could manage, remembering last minute that you ditched him without any sort of explanation. You coughed out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you averted your gaze. "Ah, yeah. I'm really sorry for just leaving you like that. Did Sumi and Kazuto walk back home with you?"

Bokuto shook his head. "Nah, they were still watching the lunar dance. I had to go home by then, anyway, so it wasn't a big deal."

So he didn't know about your little delirious episode at the shrine. You felt the unease that you didn't know had been crawling beneath your skin dissipate, even a little. The last thing you'd want is to explain something so outlandish to Bokuto, of all people. From his reply, it seemed that Itsumi and Kazuto could have witnessed that, but were thankfully yet to corner you about it.

"Anyways, since you're here, do you want to grab some breakfast downhill?" he offered, a kind smile playing at his lips.

You thought that, had you spent the previous evening like any normal high school girl dreamed—watching the fireworks side-by-side with the boy she likes—maybe you would have agreed. Maybe, if it was your own heart, and not a yokai's, that was keeping you alive right now, you could have indulged yourself in Bokuto's not-so-subtle advances. But that wasn't the case at all. These were the circumstances you had to live with.

And you were going to see them through until the end.

"I'm sorry, Bokuto-san," you sighed, training your eyes back on the sunrise. "I'd...rather be alone right now."

Before he could even utter out any response, you were already running into a sprint, taking one of the off-road pathways where he couldn't follow you. Having spent your childhood aimlessly wandering the hill—committing each of the paths that ran like veins across the rich forests around you—you knew perfectly well how to hide in a way where no one could find you.

Leaves crinkled under the weight of your running shoes as you slowed your strides, eyes fluttering shut as you let the glorious birdsong ring in your ears. But your moment of tranquility was interrupted by the steady beeps coming from your watch. With a sigh, you cast it an uninterested glance, seeing that your first twenty minutes were up and you haven't even burned half your required calories.

You let yourself lean on one of the tall trees in the area, chuckling breathlessly.

"Tonight for sure."

Undoubtedly, Akaashi had been right when he said the moon shines brightest in the cemetery uphill.

With each step you took as you ascended your usual path, it was as if Tsukuyomi favored only this patch of land across the country and nowhere else. But even though the moonlight spilled across the hill like it typically did, it was like its residents were in hiding. You didn't hear any small animals scuttling about. The cicadas seemed to have hibernated early for the night. And even your grandmother retired to her bedroom before the clock even struck at 8 P.M.

"Don't go outside," she had warned with a reproachful kind of sternness. "Remember what I told you."

But you wouldn't be able to move forth with your plans if you merely cooped yourself up in your bedroom. So, when you were sure she was already fast asleep, you grabbed one of her old oil lamps from the storage room, lighting the wick with a single match before you began your trek uphill.

The gate to the cemetery was gaping wide when you reached the summit, and you let out a stuttering breath to somehow ease yourself. The small bottle containing the blessed water from the shrine's well felt heavy in the pocket of your sweats as you darted your gaze around for any sign of him. When you were met with nothing but the whisper of the stale wind, you gazed up at the sky—the moon overhead slowly, slowly being swallowed by the shadow of the sun.

Your fingers coiled tighter around the lamp, forcing yourself into hyper-awareness. If Akaashi's identity as the lunar goddess' offspring was anything to go by, you were almost too certain that the occurrence of an eclipse will affect him somehow. Whether it will strengthen him or weaken him, you didn't know. But what you did know was that, if you were going to face him, it had to be tonight.

"Your penchant for making questionable decisions was entertaining at first, but this is just suicide, don't you think?"

Then and there, the charm that's kept you safe all these years glowed with its usual, telltale white. You grit your teeth when a whirlwind blew past, and you suddenly felt his hot breath fanning the nape of your neck.

"Who said I had any plans to die?" you murmured, a challenge underlining your words as you faced him.

Akaashi looked as infuriatingly normal as ever with his loose shirt, gym shorts, and volleyball shoes. The only thing that gave away his demonic heritage were his ruby red eyes and the sneer that gave you a flash of fanged teeth.

"The fact that you came to me already seals your fate," he chuckled, animosity oozing from his words. "I am going to kill you."

But even if he could very much put a hand through your chest like he did in your dreams, you had an inkling that Akaashi wouldn't do it. Despite the menacing aura that enveloped him, your instincts were telling you that it was all for show. Was it his heart in your chest whispering all these little clues to you? Was that why, even though you definitely should have alerted the shrine of his presence, you couldn't bring yourself to do so?

"Are you sure about that?" you tested him, meeting his vermillion gaze head-on. "If you really wanted to kill me and take your heart back, wouldn't you have done it already?"

"Who are you to question a yokai's timing, human?" he hissed, eyes shining with an anger you knew was staged. The words were curled around a growl, yet...you felt no fear. Just a wave of calm washing over you like how the moonlight swathed your form in its bright splendor.

Shucking common sense out of the window, you stepped forward until you were directly in front of the yokai. His mask of hostility faltered for a split second, and that alone confirmed your suspicions. He didn't want to do this. Not at all.

And it's for that reason alone that you gathered the courage to take his still-human hand, placing his palm flat against your chest like an open invitation to murder you. Akaashi's gaze hardened. You could feel him straining against your grip, but you kept his hand in place, even if your charm glowed even harsher with the close contact.

"Can you feel that?" you murmured, casting a sidelong glance at your parents' gravestones just a distance away. "That's the heart that saved me when I was little. The heart that could've saved my mother's life, but instead she chose to give to me. Your heart." The tone of your voice nearly broke with the words, but you steeled yourself. You couldn't afford to lose face—not now. "You can take it back if you really want to. You have all the right to do so...but that's not what you wish, isn't it?"

For a moment, his form flitted between human and yokai, like he was keeping his control from slipping. Akaashi bared his fangs at you with a fearsome snarl, and at the same time, you noticed that the moon overhead had already been enveloped by the sun—painting its surface a bright red, much like the yokai's eyes.

"Do not speak to me as if you know my pain!" he roared in a garbled voice before he lunged at you with breakneck speed, pinning you to the ground before you could even react.

Pitch black darkness enveloped the cemetery, and the only source of light came from the oil lamp that was haphazardly knocked out of your grasp and the warding charm on your wrist. The fear that you should have felt the moment you practically offered yourself up to him was beginning to catch up. His hands, with talons now protruding from them, wrung around your throat, cutting off circulation with a single squeeze. You desperately gasped for air, blunt fingernails clawing at his hands, but to no avail.

"I did not kill you on-sight because I was biding my time for when I'm most powerful," Akaashi spat, tightening his grip that you nearly lost your vision for a moment. "But a human like you doesn't need any further explanations. You're nothing but—argh!"

In the midst of his little monologue, you managed to fish out the blessed water in your pocket. It was a miracle, really, that you had the foresight not to seal the cap too tightly. The minimal drops that got on his skin sizzled in your ears, and when you felt his grip falter, you kicked him with as much lower leg strength you could muster.

Akaashi rolled onto the grass, writhing from the pain of having been struck with blessed water. The sight sent an arrow of remorse flying straight through your chest. He could've ripped your—his—heart out when he had the upper hand, but he didn't.

"Why are you holding back?" you asked, backing away cautiously as you picked up the oil lamp. "You told me the moment you found who it was that had your heart, you would take it back. Were you lying?"

Asking a yokai if he was lying was a little laughable, really. They were creatures of darkness, so lying was right up their alley. But Akaashi...Akaashi had always been different from the rest.

As you walked closer, you held the lamp in front of you—the bright orange glow of the flame illuminating the sight of Akaashi's bloodstained face. Crimson tears lined his long lashes where they pooled at the edges of his eyes and cascaded down his pale cheeks. The burn marks from the blessed water had already healed, but it seemed that the agony was yet to ease.

"I just want it to end," he croaked, voice sounding all kinds of broken. "I am neither alive nor dead. Without my heart I can never know peace."

Your gaze softened, heart rippling with pity at the sight of him. "What do you mean?"

Akaashi heaved a long, exhausted breath, hauling himself up to his feet before doing his habit of looking up at the sky—at the moon. And for a moment, you liked to think that the expression that shadowed his face was but a glimpse of the age-long suffering you couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"I was the first of my mother's children," he began, his words coming out much more even than earlier. "Keiji, she called me. The name I was given was meant for a leader that would keep all the children of the moon in check. I was supposed to be up in the heavens, ruling alongside her. But that wasn't what happened at all."

"The first time I descended onto the Earth, it was to bless the first worshippers of the lunar deities with prosperity. But..." Akaashi faltered for a moment, intently affixing you with his red-eyed gaze. "It was a trick. Their entire offertory was a ploy to get me to reveal myself so they could subject me into their godless experiments."

His tale had you frowning for a moment. You weren't very certain, but it was like you've already heard this before...

"Every thing and every creature should always have a counterpart. That was the philosophy they lived with," the yokai reiterated as he flexed his talons before his eyes. "It was the same for the gods they so-religiously worshipped. In order to maintain the balance in the world—"

"There should be a force that opposed even the gods themselves," you continued for him, lips quivering with horror when you finally realized what was so glaringly familiar about his narrative. "That's...that's from the origin story of the first yokai. He was created by delusional worshippers..." There was a pause in your response, like you couldn't quite form the right words, before you forced yourself to look back at him.

"You're the first yokai?"

For the first time in a while, you saw Akaashi's mouth quirk into a tired smile. "I'm glad you're not making me regret sparing you."

You ran a hand through your hair in utter disbelief, your mind spouting out questions you weren't even sure you want to know the answers to. Not only was he Tsukuyomi's eldest son, he was also the first yokai cursed to wander the earth for all eternity. If you cross-referenced your grandmother's story with Akaashi's, it would add up why he would want the shrine's help in reaching out to his mother.

He just wanted to go back to his home in the skies.

"My grandmother told me about the yokai who infiltrated the shrine years ago, whose heart they sealed away," you spoke again, half-wondering if you were even in the position to demand even more answers. "Why do you need your heart to ascend to the heavens? It's the crux of those worshippers' utter blasphemy. Surely, you don't—"

"Gods do not have hearts, yes," Akaashi interrupted, pressing his mouth into a thin line. "But the object that keeps my existence anchored to reality is hidden within it—the essence of the moon. When I said I would take back my heart, that was what I meant, and obtaining it does not require me to kill you."

Not even your grandmother's strict lessons covered that little tidbit of information. You found yourself ghosting a hand over your chest, feeling the steady thrum of your pulse beating underneath your fingertips. Akaashi's eyes roved over your much shorter frame, and the relief in his eyes looked much more genuine than the wrath he had bluffed with earlier.

"This world is cruel, (Name)," he sighed, and you realized that it was the first time he addressed you as such. "I cannot converse with my mother in this form, nor can she personally interfere with the affairs of the earthly realm. If I were to return, it would be of my own effort alone."

"It took me centuries to find her sacred land right here, and just before I could finally go back, my heart, my essence, was taken away—and I was made to suffer once again by the same people who swore to worship us." The somber ring in Akaashi's voice made your heart sink with regret. Regret for ever questioning him. Regret for the shrine's cruel actions against him.

At the same time, the cemetery was beginning to brighten all around the two of you. Sparing a quick glance at the sky, you saw that the sun's shadow was already receding, letting the moonlight rain down where it shone brightest once more.

"If you're going to go back," you told him, seizing his hand and, mimicking your previous actions, flattened his palm over your heart, "it's not going to be tonight."

He gave you a tired look, like he couldn't believe you were still being stubborn after everything he's told you. "And why is that?"

You breathed in deep, suddenly made aware of how cold his fingers were and how your charm no longer glowed alarmingly. But you couldn't give them another thought when you stared at Akaashi dead in his now-gunmetal blue eyes.

"I'm going to prove to you that the world isn't always so cruel," you told him, conviction lacing your tone. "And I'm also going to show you that the life your heart has given me won't ever be put to waste."

Akaashi could only stare at you with his lips slightly parted in muted surprise. "You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"But I will," you insisted. "And you're going to let me do so anyway."

There was another lengthy pause in your conversation when you saw the desolation on his face morph into something lighter, more at ease. For a fleeting moment, you thought that he looked more human in those few moments than he had in the entire time he pretended to be so.

"Perhaps, I do have a weak spot for someone as persistent as you," he relented, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation. "But I have only one request before you go through with this madness of yours."

You cocked your head to the side as he withdrew his hand from your grasp. "What is it?"

Akaashi pulled his lips into a lopsided smile, his cold, porcelain fingers reaching up to tuck a loose tuft of hair behind your ear.

"Don't make me lose faith in the human race a third time, (Name)."

#haikyuu!!#lunaris #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #violence #tw violence #tw blood #blood

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thesummerstorms · 5 years

Text

So Omega can’t stay separate forever because I say so. I’ll obviously defer in RP or mutual writing to anyone playing those characters who has a different headcanon, but failing that my headcanon is:

Niner

Niner ends up eventually following Darman to Nar Shaddaa. After Imperial Commando, he and Dar have a special bond and all Niner ever wanted to do was look after his brothers.

At first Niner crashes in Etain and Dar’s spare room and becomes part of the household, but eventually he gets a place maybe 15 minutes away in the Neshurok Mandalorian district, and gets himself involved accidentally in the management of the enclave there. He finds a purpose and friends and is comfortable in that role.

Etain and Dar eventually buy out the apartment underneath theirs and remodel it, once they’ve stolen the funds, and Niner is one of two brothers** with a permanent room if he wants it. Sometimes, especially around holidays or traumatic anniversaries or even after late night family dinners, he takes them up on it.

I read Niner as aro/ace, and that’s dear to me, so he never marries or has kids, but he does develop some close friendships and gets to be there for his family, too, as it expands.

Atin

Atin settles down, eventually, on the Mid-Rim planet of Lanos. Lanos was Republic-aligned for the entirety of The Clone Wars, which means it was spared the crack downs of many of its Separatist neighbors when the Empire rose, and is close enough Hutt Space to visit his family without actually subjecting Laseema to living under Hutt governance. They pick a place to live that has a reasonable city population but is surrounded by woodland; their home is near the outskirts of the city, somewhere woodsy where Atin feels like he can breathe.

Laseema becomes involved in finances, with some art curation on the side, while Atin mainly explores life as a craftsman. The rare citizen who recognizes Atin as a clone assumes he retired from the Imperial Army for the quiet life, but this is rare (and the reason they avoided living near the major space port.)

Both are eventually involved in the Rebel Alliance, though their neighbors never expect it. Atin is a day and a half’s journey from Nar Shaddaa with a Class 1 Hyperdrive (which he has on his ship and maintains in perfect order). He and Laseema choose not to have children, but are involved in their nieces and nephews and niblings’ lives.

Fi is a bit of a wanderer when he finally escapes. I don’t ship Parja/Fi, but I do headcanon a BrotP there. So... Fi floats. He spends time with Atin on Lanos when too many people feels overwhelming, crashes with Levet to visit Parja up until the Imperial occupation of Mandalore means it’s no longer safe to do so, and shares an apartment with Niner in Neshurok when he has a yearning for the city and wants to check in on Dar and his family.

I’m probably the least in tune to what Fi does in the long term, but I’d like to say he eventually gets a Mandalorian husband and settles down and adopts kids in a Mandalorian settlement somewhere still within travelling distance to Niner and Dar and Atin.

In the context of Jusik/Fi, which I ship pretty much only the way Izzy writes it, Nar Shaddaa might actually not be a bad idea? (In that the whole reason Etain moved her kids there was that it was one of few places with the kind of population to hide a Force user’s presence a la Kotor II.) Maybe a different sector of the planet, so they’re not bunched up too conspicuously. Or maybe they retire further into the woods than Atin on Lanos, idk.

Corr

Corr has a poly triad going on with Jilka and Ruusaan; they commit crimes against the Empire and sometimes the Hutts and generally Robin Hood together. They’re based out of Nar Shaddaa, because no one expects them to be and also because Jilka always got a thrill out of assignments wrangling credits from overgrown Hutts, but they do travel a lot for their ops.

Corr’s based in a different sector from either Niner or Dar, somewhere he can enjoy the nightlife pretty extensively, but also will purposefully show up just to annoy Niner and Dar.

I never did decide how I felt about eventual kids with this ship, so...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

** the other is Mereel, since he showed up to Etain and Dar’s after his near death to recover and they want him to have that touch stone available if he ever needs it. also, like, since technically he didn’t actually die, they aren’t sure if the apartment is technically his; that was not a provision covered in his will, lol. they have a guest room or two ready for anyone else; it’s just Niner and Mereel who get offered their own permanent rooms

#Republic Commando #My writing #My headcanons #Omega Squad #Darman Skirata #Atin Skirata #Fi Skirata #Corr Skirata

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commonalex · 5 years

Text

Aphrodite

(press play, won't bite ya)

aphrodite by common alex

Listen/download: aphrodite by common alex

They really caught my eye by mistake. Couldn’t even make out what was really happening because of the slow daybreak; when I finished parking she was already laid down on the parking lot and this old fuck with his black-as-a-crow dyed hair and this filthy white shirt was stomping her sides. I shout till I get noticed by this dusty boned ass and his halloweeny mustache he rocks in this late September. I sprint (well, supposedly, my lungs aren’t as light as they used to) and he flinches as if he shat his pants towards a old green Citroen bumped to pieces. I swear he was this close getting his ass beat.

-You shouldn’t have done that.

-Are you… okay, lady? Hey, easy easy. No sudden moves, I got a first aid kit back at the truck.

-Oh no. No, don’t you ”lady” me.

With these dark brunette hair, this long black kimono robe tied by her waist and these thick sunglasses hiding her eyes, her age must be somewhere around fifty, maybe less. I see no blood, though, only on her bottom lip and her back from the asphalt; the rest are just bruises by hand or by shoe. I put some old band aids I found along some other (close to be expired) shit and help her to stand while being a bit scared she is way more hurt internally. But even though she stands alright there’s something about her that doesn’t seem quite right.

-Don’t scratch that, let it dry out. What about a hospital, a doctor? Is there anything like that close from here?

-What do you think, big boy?

That I made a stupid question. Why on earth would there be a hospital close to a truck station on the highway? There’s not even a restaurant around here anymore. We barely get a cup of shitty coffee along with overpriced snacks and a chance to piss with the constant risk of getting infected of something too fucked up for science to give it a name yet.

-Where’s your car?

-I don’t have a car.

-Were you brought here?

The sunglasses slowly fell from her straight lined nose for me to see her smudged eyes guiding me to the right. There really was no car. Only an abandoned gas station, a really creepy playground overgrown by weeds and grass and an old caravan, five by three meters with a blue stripe on its side. I look at her for confirmation and I walk her slow as one can go to let her sit on a cheap travel armchair right besides the open wide door of the caravan.

-I’m… Aphrodite. And you?

Her hesitation right before her name has successfully rang every single bell in existence.

-Does it matter?

She seems unbothered. Knowing my name or not is just the same to her, so to speak; as long as I don’t ask any questions about this pasty prick hitting her a few moments ago.

-Well you’re right about that. How old are you?

-Thirty-three.

-Good for you, you seem nothing like your age. You could tell me you’re twenty six, I’d believe you.

Wow, she’s really into talking, isn’t she? So much she tries to pull a second chair for me beside her. I take a sec to understand if all this a way of flirting or just an awkward compliment used instead for “thanks” because I was at the wrong place at the right moment.

-Sorry, you caught me at work. A long drive to Romania, really, and if I don’t stick to schedule they’ll come for my ass.

Still, unphased.

But she keeps on digging to me.

-Yeah, I’ve heard that a lot. I mean have you ever seen anyone that you try chatting with them and they aren’t in any rush?

Aphrodite seems kind enough to relieve me from my puzzled face by opening and closing her robe as she speaks, as if I, an engaged dude with two babies back home, am all about that shit right now. And even if I was, just by looking at her breast and legs I get a weird feeling. So I play dumb until she gets tired of trying. She doesn’t. And this woman was lying on a parking lot ten minutes ago.

-Look, I can’t help with anything else. And besides, how can I put it, I don’t really…

She catches up and cuts me off from the worst.

-What you “don’t really”. Fuck hookers or fuck trans?

I can’t stress enough how embarrassed I got between these seconds. For sure I didn’t want to put it like that, but how could I say that without saying it? I simply nodded. She seemed like she understood though. She ties her robe back and drags me to chit chat once again (because she couldn’t drag me inside that greasy caravan), beginning to unfold the story of her life. Literally. Awkward as fuck, but I’d lie if I wasn’t intrigued with her.

She said she was born in a rural town far from here, raised by her “holy as a woman can ever be” grandma Aphrodite (that’s where the name comes from)- she tells me that exact thing about three times. I’m asking for her parents and then waiting her to finish with the endless cursing towards them just so the story continues to the point she reaches fourteen years old. Right there is where she, without a warning, runs away from home to Salonika, the closest big city she could afford to start selling her body.

-I’d be lying if I ever said I didn’t get comfy with work, especially the first few clients. After the initial stress dies down you wait for the instinct of habit. I swear, you could spend a week in this job and nothing would ever surprise you anymore. You can’t imagine what kinds of filth and secrets lie outside. Kinky psychos showing up with their wedding rings on, notorious pimps spending all morning on a tv show asking “where is this country really going with all this filth“, priests. Well, you heard nothing about priests yet, I tell you that.

Aphrodite, an adult now, eventually grows far too big for Salonika and makes a trip down to Athens (as she always intended), finding only more filth and misery inside a poorly lit basement with other prostitutes. Her desperation keeps on popping up here and there for a while because she couldn’t predict things turning so damn shitty and unbearable. She stacks her money little by little and she finally gets her surgery.

-And how was thing afterwards?

-Deep inside I knew this was my time; with the body I should have had. And the best thing was that no new client could ever understand the difference, and even if he did that was the last thing he was concerned with. I was ahead of everyone else in there- all of them. But little did I care about all that, I was made for greater things. I didn’t plan to stay in that fucking basement any longer, getting fucked by the lowest of people. That’s why I got my head down and worked my ass off until I could make a name of myself, until I could make not enough money but the real money. And that was what really got the best of me in the end, I think.

She then “moves” to the biggest red light district of Athens (I mean, of course, where else could she really be, right?) and that’s the point where her story really turns sketchy. Whatever she told me to this minute might be a bit cliche, but still believable. Now she runs over all that, telling me to believe that she managed to get so big she turned to a highly paid escort for rich and powerful people like that (which I guess you could say is plausible, given that she indeed would be beautiful at some point). Just the names and zeros she dropped on the table makes me suspicious as hell. But this isn’t the end, she continues with her Mercedes car she owned and took rides with back at her grandma’s place or with how she was personally invited every time the american fleet stopped in Rhodes and Crete. Like she’s living in a goddamn movie.

-So things get really, and I mean really busy, am I right?

-It didn’t take long for magazines and tv shows for nosy people to notice me. Those were the days, I tell you. You remember the checks I used to get previously? Well you wouldn’t even imagine those. I was called the “trannie”, the “pure Satan offspring”, the “biggest mistake of the nature”- really whatever. I’m still laughing. By the time the camera was switching off everyone was begging for a photoshoot or an interview like their life depended on it. You can’t just pass this opportunity to get famous. It’s as strong as a drug. All this attention, all those lights really make you feel like you’re doing something good at last.

How much time could have passed for the sun to come out full force, burning my back like a motherfucker? I take a peek at my watch and I see it’s quarter past ten. Shit. I really should be going by now. How do I cut it out for her, hoping that she will eventually go to the doctor by herself? How do I escape her mouth from talking so slow or her eyes from following me like a predator’s?

-That’s alright and all, but...

-I know, you can’t tell right now, but everyday I was getting calls and visits from designers at my house by the shore to ask me if I would wear their shit. Yeah, I reached that peak. I mean, would you believe me if I told you I stumbled upon Dolce & Gabbana at the airport? Giving me their cards and all?

No. No I wouldn’t believe you.

-That’s all nice and dandy, Aphrodite, but something’s missing. I mean, what are you doing here? Like, for real.

You can’t make me believe she didn’t expect this to come up eventually, but here she is acting like that. Leaving sighs and staring into nothingness. Her voice even changes up a bit, gets a more serious tone to it, out of the blue.

-Do you really believe prostitutes tend to think about the future? I mean, really? Do they make plans of retirement or something? Especially the trans ones. Let me tell you, most of them can’t even think about making it to thirty, either from someone or themselves. I, personally, chickened out twice and got rescued three times, and you’re coming here telling me if I ever thought I would be here during my old days?

-With all these things you casually spill out of doing in the ‘90s you should be standing above thousands, even millions, with all of the doors wide open for you. What happened? How could you go from a house by the shore, a Mercedes and all these interviews to, you know… This?

Where, just to remind you, this is a fucked up caravan besides the highway where old fucks are coming to kick her in the neck.

-”What happened”. Like I never asked that to myself. I’m here, sitting and telling you a stuff or two about myself and you have the nerve to pull a “what happened”. What could have happened, big boy? What do you believe?

She seems really sensitive that not only I interrupted her story but in addition I questioned the lies she spices it with. Welp, what can you do, I already threw half of my morning out of the window with this one, we’re only left to see where is she going with all these delusions of her amazingly faked past. Like I have any time to spare.

-Tell me.

-It must be the place, dunno. You, for example, came here maybe for a piss stop and then back to work. And what a demanding work; holding a wheel until you don’t. But what about the whores? Whores got a body to maintain till its expiration date. After that, game over; again, if the make it there. If disgust hasn’t eaten them alive by then. If insecurities about everything starting to loosen up, or the ringing of the phone that eventually will go silent, or reaching the point of begging to keep on living cause family is not an option anymore. They go nuts, you see, they hold on from anything they can reach just to keep on feeling that all this they are going through really mattered. Just to keep on feeling like they are valued.

-So is this why you’re staying here? To feel like this matters? To get beaten up by old fucks and internally accepting it? Why don’t you ask for help?

-This is help. This old fuck is the only one that comes around and throws a penny for me to maintain myself. He’s the only one that fucks me, anyway. That’s why I’m here, for him- it’s his caravan after all. He lives about twenty minutes from here with a wife, kids and grandkids. He just likes to “get it out of his system” once every few days by fucking for free and beating me whenever I mention that I can’t do this anymore, because he is afraid that his whore isn’t loyal to him. But why am I saying all these things to you. I’m wasting my words. You still don’t believe me.

I don’t know where her truth and lies stand anymore, only that if she really lived all these things she’s a massive fool for not writing a book. I, for once, took too much of my time for all this crap. When I started heading back to the track she switched to her first ways, telling me that “I’m doing the right thing” or that the old guy with the mustache “really has a gun and doesn’t mess around”. Yeah, whatever. I get in and peep Aphrodite behind the window waiting on the chair for me to go but something inside makes it hard for me to start the truck. It’s quarter to eleven but her endless chatter seem to get my weariness going. As time passes and the truck stays still, Aphrodite eventually heads back to the caravan shutting the door behind her. I’m kinda relieved. But I’m still madly curious, what can I do? Ah, fuck it, Romania can wait a bit more. I pull out my phone and search blindly, trying to find anything at all.

Aphrodite.

Trans.

Prostitute.

‘90s.

Modeling.

Enter.

I couldn’t feel anything less than a dick at this point. It seems unreal. Not only she was legit, but she toned things down a little in her story. The photoshoots were indeed professional and stunning, while I found an interview of her on an ancient tv talk show I never really knew existed where she explains how much her life changed due to the massive exposure she got at this point. Same as today, minus the touches of time on her. But most of all happy. Really all this attention made her bloom ridiculously. Magazine covers, runways, pageants; all enough to back up not only Aphrodite's public existence but also her relations with really established and rich individuals. And all of there as cute as hell, but where did all these money go? Well, the answer lies to a more recent past, this time inside tabloid news articles.

Only three to four year ago, Aphrodite spawns once again, this time in Jerusalem (what the fuck) in order to get closer with her faith and a highly respected priest there. So damn respected that people wouldn’t stop to talk about their “secret” meetings late at night, to the point where photos and videos leak publicly. Result? These tabloid fucks smell the blood from far, far away and get to hunting the story. The priest goes public, says “sorry guys, my mistake, Satan trapped me and such, didn’t want to, sorry again, peach to all”, gets thrown away from the local church and that was pretty much the end. Aphrodite on the other hand vanishes once again up until this point, right here, on this parking lot besides the highway.

I guess that’s what she meant with that “you heard nothing about priests yet” earlier. Maybe I should have listen more carefully or see her face better in order to recognize her from all this priest thing that blew up literally everywhere back then. Either way, my curiosity stopped killing me but guilt took over me. With my route schedule gone to the shitter already, I knock her caravan door till she opens with death in her eyes. I show her the interview I found on my phone.

-It’s you, isn’t it?

-That’s really a shame, big boy. What do you do with all these truck stuff. You should be working for NASA by now.

I was wrong before. This point right here is where I can’t feel anything less than a dick.

She invited me inside and made me sit right across a really slow fan that was spinning just for the aesthetics in order to make me feel less of a sweaty pig. The caravan looks way more comfy on the inside with a massive bed and a narrow sofa but the mountains of hoarding shit and snack packaging lying around here and there do no favors. It’s a good option for holidays, but absolutely not for regularly living inside of it. Aphrodite doesn’t seem to bother with my snoopy eyes. She holds the phone with both hands while carrying the cold look. As if she doesn’t recognize herself. As if she doesn’t want to.

-When was that?

-Not sure. ‘95? Later than that? I only recall just how rude and creepy this interviewer was. He didn’t hit on me or anything like that, it’s just that he was always an ass kisser in front of you and a shit talker behind your back. I didn’t get how much crude and sarcastic he was in that interview until years later. Now that I think of that, I guess everyone were kind of the same. But these were different times, more fabulous, more sparkly, more…. Innocent? I guess innocent isn’t the right word for it.

Then I show her the article about the priest. She kinda leaves a bitter smile there. She might no look exactly happy but nevertheless she must understood that in the end I kinda cared and dug up her whole history to make it up for myself after treating her like shit. She silently accepts it, even though with her fair share of reservations this time.

-That’s the most recent I could find, there’s nothing next to that. Would you mind telling me what happened next?

-One day my head was about to explode. I couldn’t do this anymore. All I wanted was to somehow save my soul from this pit of crap I ended up, and the idea stuck to me the moment I accidentally found grandma’s cross among my stuff. That was really it. I quit the job, closed my phone and traveled to churches and monasteries, throwing money around to buy a seat next to God. Turns out I found my Devil, though.

She’s way more reserved than before. I get that all of this might still cut deep and talking about it hurts like a bitch. I tell her she doesn’t really have to say anything she doesn’t want to and I am ready to leave her alone if she asks me to. She calmed my anxious ass with a simple nod.

-And the videos?

-I leaked them. I told you prostitutes don’t think about the future. I couldn’t even think about today at this point of my life; I was really in a shitty place. The priest wanted to go big, a bishop or something like that, and to do that she had to dump me. Like I was the one flirting with him in the first place. And he was the one supporting me, so what the fuck would I do there alone? That’s where a magazine came to me, no idea of its name, put money on my hand for the footage and came back with these money, just so nothing would remind of everything that played out down there. As you’d expect, money didn’t last forever. So I got to a point where I was like “what can I do”? I could never be a beggar and I could never go back to a brothel without people laughing at me, so I went from one old friend to another until someone finally decided to help.

-Someone. Like a cunt.

-Yeah, a cunt, I don’t know. It’s better than nothing.

I ran out of words. I’m no longer curious, no longer so guilty and for sure don’t feel pity for her. I can only say “good luck” and “take care” to her as I walk out; even though neither of these hold any value for her situation. She didn’t wanna hop on the truck because she didn’t feel like she has anywhere to go. I try to make her understand that anywhere is better than this misery and abuse. She responds somewhat philosophical, telling me that who knows, maybe someone might come up on this truck stop and can actually help her. Give her money to live or anything else she needs and then taking he-...

-Aphrodite! Out! Now!

The shouting from outside got her eyes open wide, staring at the door for a good second. I never believed I could see her scared shitless.

-You shouldn’t have done that, I told you so.

-Is this him?

I didn’t need an answer to that. Her bottom lip shaking like her jaw’s about to fall gives me all the information I need. She pulls my hand from the door to stop me. Too bad I already decided my approach. I smile at her to stop her from panicking and jump out with sun hanging above me. Ten meters on the left there’s the green Citroen with one door open and a bit closer there’s the old bastard standing a bit closer with a shotgun resting in his hands. The truck is straight ahead, forty steps or so. It’s just a sprint as the worst case scenario, big deal. Either way I bet his shaky hands could even load before shooting. Ha, there it is, haven’t I told you, he dropped the fucking shotgun. Ten more steps and hello Romania. I only feel bad that I didn't have the time to greet her for the last time before I go. I yell "goodbye" as I'm running but my voice isn't coming out at all. But again how could it be heard right here, right now with all those bang bang bang bang b…

The only thing I can make out of all this noise is her screaming from the back.

-No! Oh God!

#poetryriot #24hoursopen #abstractcommunity #poetryportal #twcpoetry #writerscreed #savage-words #illustrans #recognizingthevoiceless #bitsofstarglow #electricexhibition #story #short story #prose #prose poetry #writing #dialogue #poets on tumblr

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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Lips pressed close to mine, True blue (Willam x Alaska) - Albatross

AN: So it’s my first time posting on this subject and admittedly, I’m a bit nervous on how it will be received. The title and song it’s from only has a vague connection to the story (maybe if you squint…and take like four shots). This is just a short little fluffy piece I wrote about one of my favorite (underrated) pairings as distraction from some bigger projects I’m working on. Hope you all enjoy it and sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes that might’ve made it through my proofread!

Alaska shivered beneath the covers for what felt to be the hundredth time since she and Willam decided to call it a night. Alaska full well meant to head back to her own home but one bottle of wine turned into three and 7 PM quickly turned into 11:30 before either of them realized how late it was or how tipsy they had gotten. When Willam casually offered the guest bedroom, Alaska accepted it with a grateful smile. The thought of heading back to her own empty house after such a fun day with one of closest friends was more than a bit of let down. Lately she’d been feeling rather lonely as she paced around her house without even a dog or cat to keep her company. She never really noticed how empty her house truly was until she decided to take a short break between her slew of shows and appearances. Constantly touring easily allowed her to forget how alone she felt outside of work but now that she had time to herself, it was undeniable how much she needed other people around her to feel content. Willam had called her earlier that day and asked if she wanted to hang out at his studio while he filmed a few videos for Patreon and Youtube. Alaska jumped at the chance, grateful for both the distraction and the opportunity spend a little extra time with Willam. She loved watching him work, whether it was in front of a camera or behind, she got lost in the focused expression on his face as he became absorbed by whatever task he was working on. Though she loved when he went silent and meditative as he figured out an issue, she loved his laugh even more, ugly as it is at times. That look of pure joy on his face when he laughed at his own jokes, especially when accompanied by the seal-clap, never failed to make her smile. Easily her second favorite part of watching him shoot for Beatdown was the unique outfits he created for each episode. He always turned out a new look for each episode, even if he used the same wig mutliple times, you could always count on him to make it look brand new either with the style or by adding an accessory or extensions. Today’s episode also coincided with the filming for a ‘Paint Me Bitch’ with a queen Alaska had not yet heard of but shortly grew to appreciate their work. Said artist, whose name Alaska had missed due to arriving in the middle of shooting, had clearly done their homework and incorporated Willam’s signature color into the look they had crafted for him. The beat blended together the shades of blue Willam loved so much with a classy touch of silver and just enough sparkle to make Willam exclaim excitedly “I get glitter too? This is the best 'Paint Me Bitch’ ever!” Even the lips Willam had consented to allow the artist to paint on him showed off his fondness for cerulean and navy especially. Following the end of the filming for the day, Alaska was resigned to head back home and kill the remainder of the evening watching TV and maybe ordering takeout. She had begun gathering her belongings when Willam placed his hand gently over hers and started speaking. Her cheeks tinted just slightly at the contact and a smile broke out over her face when she realized Willam had asked if she wanted to head back to his place for pizza and drinks. She nodded enthusiastically and followed him back to his house outside the city with a jubilant grin. The rest of the night was spread out with good pizza, cheap wine, and whatever B-list movie caught their attention on Netflix. The pure simplicity of the evening’s pleasures was one Alaska would never trade for the world, especially if it meant sharing it her friend. When the queens had chanced to look at the clock during one of the movies, they found it was already after 11. Alaska had groaned at the thought of driving home so late and kicked herself mentally for forgetting to check the time for so long. She really hadn’t meant to keep Willam up so late, especially when he would be working again tomorrow but she was selfish and didn’t want to leave his side for as long as she had an excuse to stay. Reluctantly, she was beginning to say her 'goodbyes’ when the other queen asked if she wanted to finish the movie and stay over night in the guest room. By no means was it unusual for Alaska to sleep at Willam’s or vice versa, but it had never been as unplanned as this. Typically they had an idea of it early on in the day and made arrangments accordingly. Something about tonight’s stay made it seem just a bit more…intimate than previous visits. But like the clingy overgrown child she felt like sometimes, Alaska immediately agreed to her friend’s generosity and settled down on the couch again next to him. The remainder of the movie was a blur for Alaska who couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that had developed in her stomach. As the credits played, she helped Willam clean up the kitchen and living room and each retired to their respective bedrooms for the night. The first thing Alaska noticed when she opened the door was that the room seemed a few degrees colder than most areas of the house. The window had been left slightly ajar and figuring that was the obvious source of the temperature difference, she shut it and slipped between the sheets. To her annoyance, the room did not seem to get any warmer as the night went on. If anything it almost seemed colder without the balmy breeze floating through the mesh screen. Sighing, she got out of bed again and reopened the window. Thinking to herself that she better check on the AC in the room, she stood on her bed and peered into the vent directly above her. The fan was wide open blowing cold air into her face but even through squinting eyes, she could not figure how to close vent even a little. Biting her lip, she climbed back under the covers and tried to force herself to fall asleep. Every time she felt herself nodding off, the warm breeze from the window seemed to die out and the AC would quickly take its place. Despite how tightly she wrapped herself in the sheets, a blast of cold air always seemed to slip in and cause her to shiver. She eventually relented and left what little warmth the bed offered to search for extra blankets in the walk-in closet but she was left disappointed. Nothing! The hallway closet; also nothing! What the hell? She debated with herself for a full minute on checking with Willam to find out where he had hidden the blankets in this confusing house. She knew he was most likely passed out by now, but without at least one additional layer of protection between her and the cold, she was going to be awake all night freezing her ass off. Quietly, she made her way to Willam’s room and knocked gently on the door. When there was no answer after a few seconds, she softly called out his name and tapped on the door just a little bit harder. Still, there was no noise to be heard from inside the room and she shuffled awkwardly on her feet trying to decide how to handle the situation. It felt like crossing an unspoken barrier to open his door but Alaska didn’t know what else to do. She bit her lip again and tiptoed to the side of his bed. Now that she was closer, she tried whispering his name again…Not even a twitch. Alaska has always been prone overthinking and usually she knew how to combat it but right now her mind was slowly being consumed by the fear that something was not right with her friend. She swallowed the lump in her throat and called his name once more, keeping the volume just under her normal register. When there was still no visible response after 10 seconds, Alaska felt her heart drop to her stomach. Her hand was shaking as she reached over to touch Willam’s shoulder but immediately drew it back after her fingers brushed his skin. He was cold…colder than she had felt in her room standing directly beneath the fan and his lips were a pale blue in the moonlight. Her voice cracked as she cried out “Willam!” and shook his shoulder violently. There was no way this could be happening. Not her best friend! She didn’t know whether to cry or scream at him when she finally saw him reacting. He slowly came to, wiping the sleep from eyes and sitting up. “'Laska?” he slurred groggily as he tried bring his sluggish mind to working condition. Alaska let out a broken laugh of relief and clutched a hand over her pounding heart. Willam quickly took in the sight of his terrified friend and scurried to the end of the bed to catch her before she collapsed onto the floor. He gently sat her down on the edge and asked what was wrong. Her breathing was coming in spurts but he didn’t try to rush her for an explanation. Alaska saw the genuine concern in his eyes as he ran his hand in slow circles over her back while he waited for her to calm down. When she was finally well enough to speak, she frantically apologized for overreacting and waking up him like that. He brushed it aside without a second thought and asked again what had upset her. She had never felt more ashamed of herself than when she admitted that when she came in to ask about an extra blanket and didn’t see him react after trying to wake him, her mind had immediately plunged off the deep end to worst possible scenario. “Y-You were cold and you weren’t moving…I panicked…I’m sorry,” she whispered as she did her best to suppress another shiver. Willam cupped her cheek and wiped away a stray tear that had fallen as he told her, “Hey, don’t be. I’m glad you care enough to be that upset. Not a lot of people would be.” “You know that’s not true,” she laughed weakly. He gave a rueful smile and continued, “Seriously though, you don’t know how much it means to me to know you care that much. And I’m sorry too, I should have told you the AC here’s been a little wonky lately. Would’ve saved us this mess.” Alaska and Willam both let out a sickly relieved chuckle and leaned heavily against against each other. Cold or not, Alaska felt like she could fall asleep anywhere with how drained she felt at the moment. Drowsily, she whispered to Willam, “You’re lips are blue…” “Still? Washed my face twice already…” he muttered distractedly as he wiped his fingers over them. His eyebrows shot up slightly as he discovered that pigment was indeed still present on his lips. Absently, he said to himself, “I gotta find out what that bitch used on me…could suck dick in a hurricane with that shit.” Alaska cracked up at the statement and clutched Willam’s arm to keep herself steady. He’d probably never admit it to anyone but even with her tear-stained face and puffy eyes, when he watched her laugh after that incident, he’d swear he’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did right now. Carefully, he tilted her chin up and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for always caring about me…” Her cheeks flared at the atypical show of affection from the older queen but her heart felt close to bursting as she murmured quietly, “Anytime…” They stayed frozen like that for a few moments before Willam broke the silence. “If you still want extra blankets, they’re down in the laundry room…but you’re welcome to share the bed with me…” he offered with a tinge of hope in his voice. “I’d like that…” Alaska replied shyly. Willam skillfully rearranged himself to allow Alaska to slid in comfortably amongst the sheets on the spacious bed. Without hesitation, he pulled her close to him and ghosted his lips over hers. “Can I?” he asked tentatively, praying he had not misread the signals. Alaska felt like she was on cloud nine when she heard him ask and nodded before swiftly closing the distance herself. They worked their lips together in perfect synchrony, both just content to let the kiss relay their true emotions. When they broke apart each saw only the fondness and admiration in the other’s eyes that they had so longed for. There’d be plenty of time to explore the relationship further the next day, for now all that mattered was spending the night holding onto the person they cared about the most.

#albatross #willaska #fluff #alaska thunderfuck #rpdr fanfiction #willam belli #canon compliant

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all-sortsa-stuff · 6 years

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Natural, part 4

Pairing: Klaus Michaelson x Reader

Word Count: 2731

Warning: Language

Part 3

Your drive started out a little sad. Between leaving Mystic Falls which had really turned into a lot of fun, and the fact you were going to try to save your family’s estate, your emotions had been on a bit of a roller coaster. Sending up a prayer to the Gods for guidance and strength you started the rather long journey. After the first seven hours you stopped for a late lunch/early dinner and gas. You called Scarlet and talked to her while you ate alone in the little diner. She tried her best to cheer you up, which did help slightly. It made your meal better at least.

After an hour, you were back on the road for another six. It was hard to keep your eyes open by the time you found a motel to crash for the night. Originally you had wanted to drive right though until you hit New Orleans. Of course stopping when needed for gas and a bathroom, but that was not happening. Pouring yourself into bed, you were out for hours. Sunlight through the dingy curtain and your phone going off woke you sometime the next day.

It was too bright to open your eyes fully so you did not look at the caller. “Hello?”

“Did I wake you?” Stefan’s voice asked from the other end.

“Mmmhmm.”

“I’m sorry. I figured you would be awake by now. It’s noon.”

“Noon? Holy shit. I slept like fourteen hours.” Sitting up you tried to remember the last time you had slept that long.

“You alright?” He sounded concerned as you ran your fingers through your hair, staring out the window.

“Umm yeah, just tired I guess.”

“I take it you didn’t make it to New Orleans yet since you said it’s been fourteen hours.” With a sigh, you leaned back against the headboard.

“Nope. I am somewhere in Alabama.” You heard a soft laugh from the other end.

“Alabama… that place a hundred years ago…”

“It’s too early for a history lesson, Stefan.” That gifted you with another laugh, which brought a smile to your lips.

“Fine, fine. Calling me ancient or something. I just wanted to see how you were. I was… well honestly I was worried about you.” That caused a flip of your heart.

“Thank you for the worry but I will be okay. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, [Y/N]. You are a witch and our world…. It isn’t safe. I think you know that more than most.” He was starting to sound like Scarlet.

“I know, I know. I will do what I can to stay safe. Okay?”

“Please do. I will always come to help if you need me.” The rest of the conversation moved on to your plans for travel that day. Stefan made you promise to call him that night when you arrived. He threatened to follow you down there if you did not.

Hours later in the Southern sun and heat, you finally made it to New Orleans. It had been several years since you had been there but it smelled exactly the same as you drove down one of the main streets. However, the feel was different. No longer were you with your parents during happy times and summer vacations. This time alone, and as a more powerful witch you could feel the essence of magic that permeated so much of the city.

You stopped first at one of the small markets to pick up food, and a few cleaning supplies. Unsure of how dusty everything would be and what your mother had actually kept in stock. Your parents had last been down over the summer and were supposed to come back for Mardi gras. But they were killed not long after returning to Salem in September. It made your heart hurt thinking about it.

As you drove towards the road that would take you to the house, you saw a witch’s shop off to the right. Without thinking, you pulled into the sole parking spot just outside. As you slowly walked inside the strong smell of incense swirled together with the fragrances of the different herbs that hung from a racks close to the register. A beautiful woman with dark skin and a high ponytail called out to her from behind the counter. “Welcome. Anything I can help you find?”

You could see the coven tattoo on her forearm as she set the book down she had in her hands. “Sage? I need to bless and purify my home. Make sure there is nothing there to keep me up at night.”

“I have a few bundles over here, sugar.” The woman walked over to the rack that was close to the front window, picking up one of the bundles and extending it out to you. Your hand brushed hers as you took the sage. There had been a flash of power between the touch but she said nothing, only eyeing you warily. “Uhh… is there anything else I can get you? I have some lovely protection crystals.”

“Not today. I need to see what is there before I go stocking up. Thank you though. I am glad to see there is a place if I need anything.” She smiled as you followed to the register.

“Name’s Amberline, sugar. It’s my shop; if you ever need anything just let me know. I’ve got more than what is out here. For those… events that need an extra kick.” With a wink, she finished the transaction handing you the now bagged bundle of sage. As you exited the shop, the bag and your purse went flying as you went to the ground, landing square on your ass.

A flurry of apologies came with a pair of strong hands lifting you at an incredible pace back to your feet. Hands that were a bit too powerful to be human. A teenage girl and a guy not too much younger than you… or did not look too much younger than you both were scrambling to pick up your strewn items. “I am so sorry. I was reading my book and…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m good.” You wiped off your now sore ass as you looked between them. He was a vampire; there was no missing the air about him. But here in the daylight he tried to hide it. She, with the book she had now clutched in her arms was a witch. The book looked to be a tome of spells. The vampire handed you your belongings with a shy smile.

“Yeah sorry. We should have been paying attention.” Taking your purse and the bag of sage, you smiled.

“Really, it’s okay. It was an accident.” A flash of an image appeared in your mind of the girl frustrated over something. She slammed her hand down on a table as you realized the spell she had been working over. “Add less of the flower petals next time. Less is more in some cases.”

You walked off towards your Jeep, flashing a wink at her. The girl looked like she was in shock as her mouth hung open. The rest of your trip to the house was uneventful. As you pulled into the driveway and the house came into view, pain gripped your heart. All the memories here with your parents came rushing back. By the time, you parked the Jeep you were a crying mess. The flower garden in the front was overgrown but held the ghosts of the memories of you planting all the season’s flowers each summer with your mother.

The old hammock was torn and tattered but reminded you of the lazy afternoons you would drink sweet tea with your father as you relaxed together in it. Sage was not going to rid the house of everything. Sometimes the memories would cause more harm than anything else would.

You made yourself a sandwich for dinner eating it as you stood looking at the formal living room. The house had been part of a large plantation at one time, but much of the land had been sold over the years. The main house had burned in the 1920’s though it was never found out how or why. The lone survivor was the eldest son who then inherited the land. He took over one of the other larger houses on the plantation that his uncle and aunt had lived in. There he raised his own family passing the property down to his children.

Many years later when your grandfather had died just before you were born, your father inherited what was left of the land and the house. Now here you stood looking at all the covered furniture deciding that it would wait until the morning. You wanted to walk outside and listen to the quiet before you tried to lay down to sleep.

Walking onto the back porch you leaned against one of the large white columns sighing loudly. You father had told you that he had started building a greenhouse in the back yard. It was no doubt to entice you to join them during their trips to New Orleans for the summers. However, it would not have surprised you if they had started to plan to make it more than just the summerhouse. While they had not been of retirement age yet, Salem was bitter cold during the winters. After a while, it ate away at you.

The basic frame of the greenhouse was up. It needed a lot more work but it would be almost as large as the one you had back home. The thought of all of the different plants you could grow down here all year long popped into your mind. Which led to you taking a walk through the framework. Your hand brushing over the wood beams that your father had put up himself. Another image appeared in your mind of him with his radio blaring 80’s music as he sang along horribly. Hammering away as your mom was not far off in a lounger reading a book.

There was so much work for you to do around the place but you had to figure out if you could even save the property from being taken away. Fifteen thousand was a lot, but you would do everything you in your power to make it. Instead of a call, you sent Stefan a quick text that you had arrived safely. It just was not in you to have a full conversation. Too many things were running through your thoughts. You did not sleep as well that night as you had the previous night. Nightmares of the house taken away plagued you.

In the morning, you were up early drinking a second cup of coffee by the time eight rolled around. Dressing as nicely as you could in the clothes you had, you made your way to the bank. A balding man about your height had ushered you to his desk as soon as you walked in. “Paul Thompson, miss. Please tell me how I can help such a lovely lady today.”

The strong New Orleans accent could not be missed as he stood until you had sat in front of him. Explaining the situation and him pulling the information up on the computer, he shook his head. “Now there’s not a whole lot I can do for you in this type of situation. How hard is it gonna be for you to come up with the money?”

“I only have about five thousand in my savings, which is from my business. I don’t know how I am going to come up with another five in thirty days and five more the thirty after that.” He tutted a bit in an attempt at understanding.

“Well are ya willing to sell the property? I mean that would pay it outright and you would be done with it.”

“No sir, I am not letting my family’s property go. I will figure out a way.” You clasped your hands together tightly on his desk.

“Thought so, well Miss Avery I look forward to working with ya on this. Please call me anytime if I can do anything to help. And… well I will talk with my manager and see if there isn’t maybe a little something we can do to ease a bit of this.” Standing you shined the brightest smile you could at him. Maybe it would soften him up a bit. Paul’s cheeks went flush red as he shook your hand.

“Thank you so much.” He babbled something you could not understand as you walked out the door. Once outside you took a long breath to give yourself a moment before you knew you had to prepare for the worst. You were going to have to find a job or two, perhaps three in the city to be able to even come close to what you needed. Even then, it was not likely you would do it. Nevertheless, refused to go down without a fight.

After walking along the streets for a while, watching the people bustle about New Orleans you found a little café that had outdoor seating. You were halfway through coffee and a beignet when something slammed down on the table spilling your coffee over your clothes and sending your sweet treat to the ground. A woman ran past holding her mouth before violently getting sick in the potted plant close by. Looking down at the table a purse that did not belong to you sat in the middle of the disaster.

“My apologies, she is… ill. Let me pay your bill and give you something for dry cleaning your clothes.” One of the most pleasant male voices you had ever heard spoke out as you looked up. The voice belonged to a face that had you forgetting to breathe. Handsome was not good enough of a word to describe him.

“Umm no… it’s alright. These clothes are old, they will wash.” Standing, you used one of the linen napkins to wipe some of the residual liquid from your pants. Your shirt font was covered as were both of your thighs. Good thing the coffee had cooled a bit before it happened. The woman came back looking embarrassed and still covering her mouth. The man handed her a handkerchief that she gladly accepted, wiping her face.

“I’m so sorry. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t mean to ruin your clothes or your lunch.” You smiled, understanding the cause. The energy the woman put off was easily recognizable.

“Ginger root and lemon tea with a teaspoon of honey in the morning would help that.” The woman and man both looked confused.

“For the morning sickness. Ginger root and lemon tea with honey before your feet touch the floor. It’s a great help for it.” Both looked like they wanted to deny it but you shook your head. “If you want to keep it a secret it’s fine. But I swear it works.”

The man extended his hand towards you though the look on his face was one of serious questioning. “I am Elijah, Miss?”

Taking his hand you squeeze a bit as you shook. “[Y/N].”

Elijah nodded before releasing your hand. “Haley and I are deeply sorry for the trouble. If you won’t take money for dry cleaning, at least let me pay the check and for more of the beignets.”

“Yes, please. It would make me feel better for ruining your lunch and your clothes.” Haley smiled as she clasped her hands together. The look on her face broke your resolve.

“Alright, that’s fine. But really, it is no big deal. I just seem to have that kind of luck lately. Thank you for picking up the check. I hope you feel better Haley.” You picked up your purse and walked back towards your Jeep. The feeling of their eyes still on you as you walked away. Stefan’s words of warning came to mind as you climbed up into the vehicle. The last day made you wonder if everyone in New Orleans was part of the supernatural world. The witches and vampire from the previous day, now this vampire and you were fairly certain a wolf, today. All you wanted was to save your home and grow flowers. You really did not think it was too much to ask.

Part 5

Tags: @bolontiku @aquabrie @malindacath @almondbuttercup @hellkat2 @dustycelt @sassymcgonagal1651 @a-series-of-reasonable-events @dearestniklause @hannah795 @somethingweird168 @cozyjaws @graysonmalfoy

#the originals #the originals fanfiction #the originals fic #the originals fandom #the orginals fanfiction #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus imagine #niklaus x reader #niklaus michaelson x reader #reader x niklaus #vampire diaries #vampire diaries fanfiction

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groovycrusadeunknown · 3 years

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How To Help Your Elderly Parents With Finances

But when you concentrate, you may discover that a seemingly irrelevant point indicates a priority you weren’t conscious of. Encourage your parents to reminisce, and pay careful consideration to the story behind the story. Solie, who’s engaged Medical Alert on a e-book about the developmental phases of middle-aged adults, factors out that our middle age agendas are often in direct battle with these of our dad and mom.

Some grocery shops have special shopping hours for seniors, to help them avoid exposure to larger numbers of people. But, people who don’t want to enterprise out may appreciate you offering to hit the shops for them. services designed to help the one you love stay within the consolation and safety medical alarm system of their very own residence. Companions are available for full-time or part-time care, and can help your senior liked one keep up with grooming, bathing, working errands, attending appointments, cooking meals, doing housework, and so much more. Having discussions about these intimate issues may be troublesome, for you and for the senior in your life.

You’ll study practical and material matters in several of the opposite classes on this course; this lesson will take a special tact. Every emotion that there’s to experience can surface at some time whenever you’re involved within the inevitable adjustments that include getting older. This lesson will allow you to learn what emotions to count on in your self, your dad and mom, your siblings, and others.

And for these of you who usually are not elderly – why not make it some extent to examine in on your older friends and family members? Participants in our study reported having problem following their physician’s dietary recommendation because they could not afford or acquire recent produce and wholesome proteins. Many members reported having well being circumstances corresponding to diabetes; if these individuals go hungry or don’t eat the proper meals, they’ll frequently need medical consideration.

Having or creating good social expertise is one other part of making family caregiving relationships—and all relationships higher. Being prepared and able to talk about feelings with others is a skill. Add this onto working with a cussed alarms for seniors aged parent and caregivers can feel overwhelmed. There are circumstances when aged parents refuse to alter behaviors. All we hear is, “I’ve lived this long this fashion—why ought to I change now?

To make sure the health and security of older New Yorkers, congregate centers are presently closed for in-particular person programming and meals are being delivered. To sign up for meal deliveries, call 311 to obtain food by way of the City’s GetFoodNYC program.

HelpAge and Global Network members are supporting older folks in the course of the COVID-19 pandemic worldwide. This map shows how we now have been responding to COVID-19 and what support we have been offering to older people of their community.Find out extra. Our Global Network is a various group of 154 like-minded organisations in 85 countries, which supports hundreds of thousands of older individuals to stay Seniors alert alarm secure, dignified and wholesome lives.Read extra about the community right here. Now, Michael Miller and Olen Miller are serving to extra seniors and going past Middletown. If you could have entry to video with your senior parents be sure to observe for any indicators of poor hygiene corresponding to unwashed hair, overgrown nails, and unkept garments.

One visit to Carp Commons Retirement Village and youâ��

ll see the distinction in terms of facilities, food, providers, packages, and the little touches that make it really feel like home. A senior residing neighborhood in Vancouver, BC offering luxurious seniors’ residences in an lively neighborhood, along with assisted living and other options. A Place for Mom’sSenior Living Advisorscan help information you through the complicated and generally confusing world of senior living. As regional representatives, they can help you locate a local senior residing community in your specific space.

Some have stopped serving in-house meals and are switching to a to-go mannequin. There are widespread reports of shrinking numbers of volunteers in food banks.

from Personal Emergency Alarms https://ift.tt/3tIgFeD

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mbergen · 4 years

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Technically our contract as Workampers is over, but we still are working, well Rich is….lol…. We are still here for a few more days, so why not. lol. But last Thur. was a beautiful day and everything is so slow now, we took the day off and went to Brownsville. Now if you look at the map, and find Brownsville, you will see the channel from the Gulf is called the Port of Brownsville. It is where the salvage and ripping apart of the ships is located. The highway on the north side is #48 and takes you to Port Isabel and Padre Island. On the south side of the channel almost to Mexico is #4. It dead ends after 20 miles into the Gulf of Mexico. It is a desolate but beautiful drive. So this was our exploration for the day.

We took the south route out of Brownsville, #4, also known as Boca Chica Highway. We passed a checkpoint but only have to stop on the way back. Later I realized we were just a short distance from Mexico border. Like probably a half a mile or less in spots. As we drove down this road we could see the Port of Brownsville ship yards in the distance. Such beautiful scenery. With all the rain, the palm trees, grasses, and cactus are so green and healthy. The land was full of greenery and also marshy. As we made our way out we passed a small town called Boca Chica Village. We would explore it later. Two miles later we came upon sand dunes…..and then a sign the said………..”Pavement Ends”……….and it did…..lol

We drove through the sand dunes and the pavement ended, right into the Gulf of Mexico. What a beautiful sight. This is also Boca Chica State Park. It is full of sand dunes and miles and miles of beautiful sand beach’s. The County of Cameron had their city dump truck and endloader there. They were pushing the sand back into the water.

The waves and tide bring the sand in and cover the road. We drove past them and onto the beach and parked. Several cars and trucks passed us as we sat their and drove down the beach into oblivion. I got out and walked a little. The water was a little cold but the sand was so smooth and pristine. Just untouched. The sound of the waves lapping the beach and the birds flying overhead was just so peaceful and beautiful.

Everytime you made prints, the waves came in and covered them up. All the birds were flying and landing on the beach and enjoying the sun and the wind. After a few minutes we noticed the waves were coming up higher and higher. Rich was afraid the truck might get stuck…..lol….so we turned around and left. So back we go to explore everything we passed on the way in. First stop ……Boca Chica Village…..

It is the only sign of civilization in sight. Its only off the highway about 2 blocks. We drove in and made the left turn and this is what we seen. A deteriorating road with 32 ranch style houses, some in good shape, but most also falling apart. Each house had huge plastic drums of potable water. The road had a Boulevard in the middle with palm trees, sago palms and cactus.

Upon checking the history of this little town, I found that it was built in 1967 by John Caputa, a Chicagoan property developer, and was initially aimed at working class Polish migrants.[3] Shortly after building a community of 32 ranch-style houses, and naming it Kennedy Shores, the settlement was devastated by Hurricane Beulah later that year, which destroyed the restaurant and public utility systems. Electricity was restored, but many of the homes did not have potable water even decades later.

In 1975, local resident Stanley Piotrowicz was voted in as town mayor, who renamed the village Kopernik Shores after Nicolaus Copernicus, and attempted to have the village recognised as an incorporated community, but this was denied. In 1990 and 2000, the population was 26 people.

As of 2008, only 6 people were permanently living in the village. Today, only 2 families live their full time. The rest are a mix of 13 renters and Winter Texans. As we went to drive out of town, their was this beautiful Shrine on the corner sunk into a corner of planted overgrown long needle soft evergreen trees.

It was constructed with concrete and stone with bottles, colored glass pieces, and shells pressed in to decorate.

The statue of Christ was in the middle with old colorful weathered flowers surrounding it. So beautiful. Back to the highway we went. This area is also full of history. We passed several historical markers. This area was where some of the last battles were fought of the Civil War with the Blue and the Gray. The battlegrounds look just as desolate as they did back in the Civil War Days.

As we drove on there were several miles of cleared land. Cleared of all trees, cactus’s and grass’s. This is were they are building SpaceX. SpaceX, started by billionaire and PayPal founder Elon Musk, is building the spaceport over 50 acres of privately-owned land at the end of Texas Highway 4 and be launch-ready in about two years. The complex, which will include a rocket launch site, launch command center and ground tracking station, will do up to 12 launches a year. Right now it is only permited to do cargo launch’s. The owner has hopes that someday they will do manned launches.

On down the road, we finally came back to the checkpoint. The 2 Border Patrol agents stood on each side, and asked pleasantly but professionally questions as to where we had been, and where we were from. I thought they might check the back of the truck as it was covered, but they didn’t. So on we went, back into Brownsville. We got on #48 which follows the Port on the north side and ends up in Port Isabel, by South Padre Island. We passed the shipyards, where the ships were being scrapped, and next went to the Shrimp boat basin. We had been in this basin full of shimp boats when we were on the Boat Tour. It had a much better view from the boat. On land it was much harder to see. We did find a public access point were they sold shrimp, so we drove in and walked around.

The first boat I seen was Captain Bligh. Rather Humorous I thought.

The water was so clear. Right now is off season, their was a lot of maintenance going on…….We drove the rest of the way to Port Isabel, which was around 15 miles. We passed many lagoons, water inlets and sand areas. Some places, their were screens along the side of the road to keep the blowing sand off the road……Rich said it reminded him of the Salt Flats of Utah.

After we arrived at Port Isabel, we headed home for the 45 min. drive. We had been invited to Deb and Ricks, the Park Managers, for Happy Hour at 4……..So we made it in time and enjoyed a beautiful evening under their carport, visiting with several neighbors watching the sun go down………

Now this is the way to end a day………This Is Retirement…………..lol…..

Happy Easter To All...........Our Day Trip to Boca Chica...... Technically our contract as Workampers is over, but we still are working, well Rich is....lol.... We are still here for a few more days, so why not.

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