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sweetestlamb · 3 years

Text

Mostrami Amore.

Summary: Cha-young tries to move on from a certain mafia boss.

Author’s Note: Thank for to everyone who sent in prompts for Chayenzo, it resulted in this mess. I don’t have much to say, I considered making this into a multi- chaptered story but honestly I don’t have time for another ongoing story so if this seems rushed it was a little, I wrote it in one go today. Hope you enjoy this, I stuck in some of my favorite crack ship because I am weak and obsessed. Happy reading!

p.s takes place after final episode but han seo lives because this is my world and I get to play God.

Another postcard.

Their delivery becomes sporadic and she’s embarrassed at the giddiness that washes over her each time a new square is sent miles across a wide stretch of ocean, the view on the card most likely lackluster in comparison to the true rendering of Malta. She has spent many hours on her laptop searching for images of the small paradisiac island, yearning to see what he sees and feel just a tad bit closer to him. Most of her life has been spent in solitude with only her work acquaintances filling the void at times, so she expected herself to be more equipped to deal with his disappearance and subsequent absence. But nothing prepares her for those moments at the coffee shop, when she finds herself smiling across a table only to realize there is no miniature espresso cup in the hand of a very dangerous Italian Korean mafia member grinning back at her.

The smile melts off her face and she swallows the bitter cool sludge in her cup, the beverage tasting exactly as he had described it without him there.

Nights are the hardest, loneliness coils around her like a snake.

There was never any other fate for them, she knew that when Vincenzo murdered all their enemies this was their only real outcome. He would always be a fugitive on the run and she an accomplice if he were captured and questioned, it was in both of their best interests if he vanished from the face of the planet. But knowing that does nothing to qualm the ever present feeling of isolation that clings to her skin as she sits alone on her couch, downing makgeolli at a vicious pace. Trying to wash his taste from her mouth, that kiss on loop in her mind and the phantom grip of his hand on her neck.

It’s those treacherous nights without the plaza members that have become a second family to her and Han Seo following her like the lost puppy he is calling her “Noona” so freely and frequently until she forgets her own name, that she allows herself to feel exactly what she’s feelings.

Heartbroken.

Desperate.

Lonely.

Rage.

The last one she hides like a dirty secret in the closet of her heart, she knew what she was signing up for. She has no legitimate reason to be angry, or so she tries to reason with herself. But. This was the same man who had bypassed the security of one of the richest men in Korea and ultimately killed him without leaving a trace. She had watched him do despicable things, blackmailing, threatening, seducing, and murdering others as he saw fit and yet, he hadn’t used any of those dastardly ways to see her. That chance meeting at the art gallery had been the last she had seen of him, Then a few weeks later another postcard with the same message she had boldly uttered at the airport, it feels insufficient after having him in her arms again. She knew in that moment that they would never be enough again. She hadn’t even argued when Mr. Nam claimed he would leave this one on his table instead, she merely nodded and walked away to peruse the new sexual assault case she has taken recently.

It gets harder and harder to hear Han Seo regaling the wonders of his “hyung”, her anger boiling deep below the surface like magma waiting to explode and transform into something tangible and destructive.

“He told me that he has a room for me too. I wonder when he’ll let us visit.”

She nods absently, staring out the window at the sunlight twinkling in through the blinds but then his words register and the gears in her head churn before running the sentence back through to carefully process them.

“He---what? You spoke to Vincenzo?”

The human puppy pouts his lips before tilting his head and dealing a hard blow to her ego and her heart, “Yeah, he sends me letters. I got so scared the first time! He said the letter would self-destruct after I read it and I really thought that was true and I dived across the room to escape but I bumped my head on the table and then...”

He sent Han Seo letters.

She had received the same fucking postcard for months on end with the same message she had said to him, and he had time to write Han Seo letters. He hadn’t sent her even one in the time he had been gone.

“That fucking bastard!” She explodes interrupting Han Seo’s recount of his near death experience and he looks wide- eyed and taken back by her outburst, she almost soothes him before another wave of anger rushes through her veins. She had accepted the bare minimum because she thought this was all he could give her but it seemed she was being too naïve. He was Vincenzo Cassano after all, he could make anything happen. She had seen it with her own two eyes. If he wasn’t reaching out to her maybe that was a message and she was too blind to see it.

“Noona? Are you okay?” Han Seo looks absolutely terrified, eyes huge and quivering. She doesn’t bother answering, grabbing her cup of lukewarm coffee and stomping out of the office ignoring Mr. Nam’s calls behind her. She’s tired of being an idiot.

She throws herself into forgetting him, the same way he seems to have forgotten her despite his words to her that fateful night on the stairs.

I thought about you everyday.

Actions speak louder than words and she is done accepting his crumbs. She has never needed anyone, had even accepted when her own father wanted nothing to do with her; she has basically been prepping for this moment her entire life.

So she goes shopping with Miri, buying gadgets that she has no idea how to use but that the other girl makes sound like things that she definitely needs such as a new home security system, her break in still fresh in her mind. She grins at the pretty smile on the other girl’s round face as she explains the specification of the machines around them and she can see why Han Seo has such a huge crush on the girl, the pretty blush that blossoms on the other girl’s cheek after stating the fact out loud is adorable and she pinches said cheek much to her chagrin.

“You should worry about your own love life.” Miri teases but the words sting like acid on her skin and she turns away to hide the grimace on her face, but she’s not fast enough and the other girl catches her wrist halting her movement.

“What? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Mr. Cassano?” Miri whispers the last part, looking around to make sure that nobody overhears them.

She forces herself to stifle her emotions, trapping them in the back of her mind refusing to let him have this kind of affect on her.

“I wouldn’t know.” She tries for a emotionless tone but even she can hear the bitterness in her own voice and Miri’s eyes fill with pity and it makes her sick to her stomach, “Don’t. I am going to be fine. Let’s just go.”

They don’t utter single word in the car ride home.

After that it becomes painfully obvious that everyone in the plaza thinks something is wrong with her and are teaming up to make her feel better. It’s the packed lunches that keep showing up on her desk without fail, her clothes being steamed and pressed for free, the way that they won’t allow her to be alone and there are countless spontaneous family game nights all ending with her drunk and being carried home.

Tonight Mr. Tak is the unlucky volunteer, dragging her limp body in her father’s house and she thinks of all the times that they drank here together and a certain person was the one hauling her body to bed complaining and grumbling but that distractingly fond smile on his face that he only ever seemed to shoot her way. Her heart thumped loudly as he loomed over her and leaned in close, getting her hopes up only to brush her hair behind her ears and softly tell her, “Go to sleep now,” and she had never been obedient all her teachers could testify to that but when he looked at her like that she was powerless to do anything else but listen.

“I miss him.” The traitorous words fall from her lips and vanish into the inky darkness of the night.

A deep sigh from the left of her, “We know.”

She feels vulnerable, the worst thing about having a weakness is other’s noticing too. She hates how weak she feels.

“I am going to forget him.”

The body supporting most of her weight tenses under her arm and she waits for his response, they all love Vincenzo- he had become their unexpected hero and leader in many ways. They would always take his side, she knows that.

“If that’s what you need to do to be happy. Then, do it. Loving a man like Vincenzo isn’t easy.”

She turns to look at him in genuine shock.

“What? You thought I would tell you to keep waiting with no end in sight? You should know by now, you mean a lot to us too. Your happiness is important to us too, we’re a family.”

“But we’re the Cassano family,” she challenges unable to accept that they could love her without Vincenzo attached, but Mr. Tak shrugs at the clarification, “We can be the Hong Family too.”

She feels her eyes swimming.

“I should go inside.”

She feels sober and more awake than ever, she stays up all night twirling the long strands of her hair in between her fingers.

Thinking.

Variety is the spice of life.

She doesn’t know where she’s heard that but it’s those sage words that are the catalyst for her spontaneous decision.

“Same as always? Silky with some body?” Her stylist peers into her eyes through the wide mirror and she hears herself say, “No I want a cut and some color.” Yu-jin raises one pretty tweezed brow but nods after a moment’s pause, “Okay. How short are you thinking?”

And that’s how she starts her day with long thick hair that grazes her lower back and ends it with a short bob that tickles her neck. It feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulder, metaphorically and literally and she loves the face that she sees in the mirror, her eyes looking brighter than they have in months. She feels more alive, like a snake shedding its skin and becoming a newer and fresher version of itself.

“Your hair?” That becomes the running theme for her day, shocked gaping mouths and hands reaching out for the hair that was once there. She merely smirks at their palpable surprise, especially Seol-jin who doesn’t recognize her from behind.

“I haven’t seen a pretty lady like you aro--Oh Ms. Hong! I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you, I am so sorry please excuse me!” The interpretative dancer bolts away leaving her to watch him bemused, she skips to Jipuragi with a pep in her step laughing loudly when Mr. Nam drops his coffee upon seeing her and the brown liquid goes flying and douses him in a sticky hot mess.

It’s an entertaining day to say the least.

Moments later when he’s finished cleaning himself up and changing into the cheetah print track suit that he insisted to keeping in the office, he mentions that a new postcard has arrived. She nods at the information, looking at her laptop and it’s only seconds later that she finally looks up and sees that he’s waiting for her response. She doesn’t have one.

Forcing a tight smile on her face she replies, “Oh that’s great. Just put it with the others.”

He does.

But she can feel his eyes on her, his concern heavy and tangible in the air.

She pretends not to notice and keeps clicking away on her laptop, only glancing over at the card once or twice. But it’s only out of habit.

Nothing more.

She starts going on dates with random men. Men she meets in coffee shops, on the streets, in bars, hell one time even the bookstore. She never meets the same man twice and they never get what they want but it does make her feel desirable and that’s all she’s looking for.

“Where are you going?” Han Seo asks her curiously, Miri by his side as she struts out the plaza new perfume on her skin.

“On a date. I’ll see you both later.” They both gape at her and can only watch with wide eyes as she sashays away, heels clicking with every step.

Word spreads like wildfire and no one takes it harder than Mr. An, who calls her a “jezebel” and cries at the front of the law firm for hours, she has to step over him to go get lunch shaking him off when he latches on to her ankles.

The others just look at her with sad eyes, filled with both understanding and disappointment.

Much to her surprise the lunch boxes keep coming and her clothes are still pressed and starched to perfection though.

She also starts taking self defense classes, Korea is much more dangerous than she had first suspected and she has to be able to protect herself because nobody is coming to save her. Not anymore.

It becomes a great outlet for her built up anger and her instructor praises her for being a fast learner. She grins and nods before flipping him and twisting his arm around his own neck in a modified sleeper hold. When he taps on her arm she squeezes tighter instead of letting go and he goes limp for a moment before she comes back to herself and releases him hastily with a quick apology, “Sorry!”

He rubs his neck, panting for air and she feels guilty, there's a tinge of that but most of all she feels powerful, more so than she has for a long time.

It’s crazy but she finds herself asking him for drinks after class and even crazier is that he agrees even with her marks still there on his skin, the area bruised and red. He looks at her like she’s challenge that he wants to conquer, she lets him believe that’s possible. It’s only a bit of fun anyway, she has no plans for anything serious.

Drinks turn into a drunken cab ride home with his hand on her thigh, hot through the thin material of her tights and they don’t feel right- too small and not rough enough but she’s moving on and she has no time to reminisce.

There hasn’t even been a postcard lately. Message, loud and clear.

When she shoves the keys into her door, he’s glued to her body leaving wet kisses on the long column of her neck and she tries to suppress the nausea that swims in her stomach, everything feels wrong and she hates herself for feeling that way. Why shouldn’t she fuck whoever she wants? He is probably doing the same thing, everyday on his beautiful private island. Kissing women that aren’t her and whispering dirty Italian words into their ears as he rocks back and forth, nary a thought of that Korean woman he knew once upon a time.

Fuck him.

She rocks back into the purposeful grind of the hips behind her, feeling the hardness that digs into the soft flesh of her ass and finally the door opens and they both tumble in haphazardly and he thrusts a hand under her loose shirt fingering at her breasts before a dark figure moves far too quickly in her peripheral and she hears her date cry out in pain.

She almost faints at the familiar sight of the one person she never expected to see, the hard glint of his cold eyes as he twists the same hand that had just been fondling her chest. The grip looks painful, the wrist contorted in an unnatural manner.

“What the fuck? You have a boyfriend?!” Her instructor cries out, voice high pitched falling to his knees as Vincenzo kicks his feet out from under him.

She rolls her eyes, of course he would come now when she is trying (and failing) to get over him.

Vindictively she answers the question, ‘No.”

But that makes Vincenzo twist the wrist in his grip even tighter and she can see the bones breaking so she takes pity on the poor man, he didn’t sign up for a murderous mafia leader after all.

“Just let him go. You have no right to do any of this.”

He doesn’t listen right away and absently she wonders if she’ll need to test out her new moves on him, it would be satisfying to deck him square in the face. She dreams of that as often as she dreams of their reunion. Her feelings are...complicated to say the least.

Then with a grunt, he throws the other man away like he’s trash and growls out, “Get out of here before I kill you.”

She tries not be get turned on by that. But it’s a hard sell, her body already getting revved up. He’s telling the truth.

The man wastes no time, jumping to his feet and bolting out the door without one backwards glance. Asshole, he was really just leaving her with a clearly unstable and dangerous man.

“We need to talk.” Vincenzo squeezes out between clenched teeth, and her blood runs cold but she stares him dead in the eyes tired of this game they’ve been playing, if he’s here to end things she wants to know.

“Okay. Then talk.”

She looks insanely beautiful, with her hair cropped so short bringing his eyes to the tantalizing length of her neck. His eyes close in on a spot of moisture on her neck, he feels his blood boiling imagining that bastard touching any part of her. She’s glaring right back at him, her chest rising and falling and he can’t help but check her out, it’s been months since he saw her in person the photo of her doing aerial yoga above his bed couldn’t compare to the tempest that is Cha-young in real life.

The flat plane of her belly is on display under the white crop top loosely stretched across her chest which leads down to her slim hips and legs wrapped in white spandex, leaving very little to the imagination not that he hasn’t imagined her in far less many, many times. Too many times to count. Spilling across the silk adorning his king sized bed with only her name on his lips.

She looks fucking hot.

That makes it even more frustrating because he can still clearly see that bastard wrapped around her like a snake and his hands going up her shirt---he has to take a deep breath before he breaks something. Or chases that asshole to break his face.

There’s so much he wants to say to her, so much he owes her.

I missed you.

I love you.

Come with me.

“Who the hell was that?” He says this instead then watches her eyes glint over into nothing but pure murderous rage. Wrong move. But he couldn’t help it, green eyed raged taking away his decision making abilities.

“That’s all you have to say? Get out.”

He wasn’t expecting rose petals and trumpets when he returned but he definitely wasn’t expecting this, her cold glare or another man in his spot. He thought she would wait for him, just as he had done for her.

“Are you serious right now?” He counters, flabbergasted.

“Deadly. Get out.”

He clenches his fist, and then stomps out. Turning back but only to watch the door slam in his face.

What the hell.

It had only taken a letter from Han Seo to get him on boat that would take him to an open field and hours later he was soaring through the skies on a hot air balloon, on his way back to Korea. It was insane and he barely had time to explain to his family but Luca nodded at him like this was the only choice and told him that he would take care of everything, and he trusted those words more than he had ever trusted anything in his life.

“Vai a prendere la tua donna( go get your woman).”

He had nodded, gruffly patting the other man on his shoulder before hopping over into the waiting boat.

But he wasn’t so certain anymore that Cha-young was his.

She seems different. Colder almost, she leaves whenever I mention your name and she goes on dates now. I think she’s moving on hyung, what are you going to do?

Those words had been the scariest thing he had never seen. Scarier than every gun that had ever been pointed at his head. He thought what they had was something special, something that could stand the test of time and distance. He stared at the huge pile of letters on his bedside, all addressed to her. He had written one everyday since they had been separated, but each time he was too much of a coward to send it. In those letters he could say things that he could never say to her face, things like how much he ached without her by his side and how her smile was the only thing that kept him going. In those letters he could regal the ways he loved her, and how deeply she had been branded into his soul, every atom of his body belonged to her and her alone. He would kill for her, die for her, anything she needed or merely wanted he would provide it, all she needed to do was ask.

He could only share those feelings in the letters.

He walks for hours, until he ends up at his old apartment the familiar door greeting him and he sticks his hand in his pocket before he remembers that he gave the key away, with a sigh he starts to walk away before the door creaks open and he hears a voice he hasn’t heard in months.

“Hyung!”

A warmth spreads across his back as a solid weight almost knocks him off his feet. He reaches one arm around his body, awkwardly slapping the face that is pressing into his collar.

“You really chose to stay here.”

He feels the nod on his shoulder, “Of course. It made me feel closer to you hyung, I missed you.”

He grunts in response, before turning around and tugging the younger man into a real hug. He had missed the annoying little leech too, he had missed everyone.

They are still in each other’s embrace for a moment before Han Seo pulls away, sympathy etched deep on his face.

“She wasn’t happy to see you.”

“There was someone else there.” He hates the words even as they leave his mouth and Han Seo winces, looking pained for him before tugging him into the small apartment. Everything is just like he left it. He looks around in awe.

“I’m sorry hyung. What are you going to do?”

That’s the golden question, he pondered it all the way here and he’s no closer to knowing the answer to that. Usually she is the one that makes the move, she has always been the brave one between them. He back steps and says things he doesn’t mean and she sees through him and smashes down all his walls. That’s how this has always worked.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should just leave her alone. Let her be happy.”

A loud scoff reaches his ears, “Sure. Is that why you sailed across sharked infested waters and trusted a hot air balloon company run my former thugs?”

He smarts at the sarcastic reply and glares before flicking the cheeky brat on his nose, "I liked you better when you were stupid you know. Now you're a little smart ass."

The younger man looks even more youthful as he grins back at him, rubbing at his nose before shrugging. "I learned from the best."

He has no rebuttal for that so he tries to flick him again, giving chase when he darts off.

It feels good to be home.

He warns Han Seo not to tell anyone that he's here least they give away his location.

So he's not surprised the next day to find the cavalry at his doorstep hands filled to the brim with containers of food. There are tears, mostly from Mr. Nam who won't stop screaming his name and pinching his cheeks to see if he's real and Mr. An who wraps around him like a koala despite his very detailed threats. It's all chaos and so familiar that his heart aches but her absence is like a hole in his chest. Nobody mentions her but they all keep looking at the door, so it's obvious that she was invited but chose not to come.

Because she didn't want to see him.

"You're here to win her back right?" He doesn't know who even utters the words but when he glances up they are all looking at him expectantly.

He didn't know that was what he was indeed here for thought that she would happily welcome him back and they could pick up where they left off but she's made it clear that this won't be the case. This will be the most important fight of his life.

"Yes. I'm here for Cha-young."

He gets enthusiastic thumbs up and a loud giggle from the Yeon-Jin and Cheol-Wook’s adorable baby, her little hands too uncoordinated to do a thumbs up but she waves excitedly feeding off the energy around her.

He wonders how Cha-young would look with a baby in her arms, their baby it's a dangerous thought. But one that he can't get out of his mind once he thinks it.

They stay until midnight, forcing him to eat and drink too much soju until he passes out to dreams filled with a round Cha-young, belly swollen and protruding from her body.

It doesn't take much to learn her schedule(Mr. Nam hands him a laminated copy) and he has to put on a disguise but he enters the shop seconds after her, hearing her order that god awful sewer water she's so fond of.

"An espresso for me." He leans in too close, almost brushing her shoulder and she jolts at the sound of his voice, turning to stare at him as if she's a mirage.

"You're still here?" She whispers and then shakes her head and looks away as if she's hadn't meant to say the words aloud.

It hurts him that she thought he would leave without telling her but he can't blame her, he has been anything but consistent. Instead of answering, he leans forward to hand his credit card to the cashier who glances between them suspiciously before accepting the card.

Their orders are ready in seconds and he follows her as she walks to their table, butterflies in his stomach at the familiar sight.

She turns to him with a glare, "It's just the only available table."

He moves to pull out her chair and she starts at him tight lipped before sitting down. She's in a tight black suit today, two long slits on the side of her pants going all the way up to her thighs. He gulps down his drink to get rid of the drool pooling in his mouth.

"You're upset with me."

She stares at him like he's the biggest idiot on the planet, it's not a look he receives often but she's always the outlier in his otherwise organized life.

"Astute observation." She quips back, sucking loudly at her coffee.

"Why?"

He considered how to go about breeching this subject and in the end had decided on going straight to the source, he had been under the impression that this was working for them.

Her face morphs into a person he hasn't seen for a long time, the Cha-young that would berate him and make him angry enough to curse in Italian.

"Do you think this little of me?"

He's completely lost, "What do you mean? What did I do that was so wrong? Wrong enough for you to cheat on me!" He's panting now, his voice has gotten loud enough to catch people's attention he can feel them watching their table, nosy and invested.

"Cheat on you?"

Cold as ice, her voice is. It almost makes him shiver.

"How could I possibly cheat on you? We're not together. You send me the same postcard with the same message every few months. I have no idea what you're doing in Malta, who you're with. You can't even be bothered to send me a letter, do you think this is a relationship? You think it's enough to pop up like this every once in a blue moon? You've told me nothing about how you feel about me but I'm supposed to be satisfied with whatever you throw my way?"

If he wasn't sitting down his legs would have already given out he's certain about that. Her voice is deadly quiet each word landing and chipping away at his confidence.

"I'm doing the best I can! You knew it would be like this after everything was over, why are you blaming me now? How about you, I don't know how you feel either!"

"I love you! Anyone with eyes can see that, I told you that at the airport too. And again when I took a bullet for you, you didn't think that meant I loved you? I was willing to die for you."

Shit.

It's not at all how he expected them to confess their love for each other, it's hard to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth as she bares her teeth at him.

"So why are you doing this? Why are there other men?"

Why aren't I enough? He wants to say but he's scared of her answer, terrified that she'll say that she can't do this anymore. That he just isn’t enough anymore.

She stares at him long and hard.

Waiting for something. But he doesn't know what.

"You haven't changed at all. You're still a coward, I'm not interested in guessing anymore. I’m done playing this game.”

She stands up and walks away, leaving her unfinished coffee on the table.

Unwanted just like him.

She doesn't see him for days and she accepts that her words had done their damage, she had cried until she fell asleep that night. Waking up with swollen red eyes that no amount of concealer would save but thankfully no one commented on her state.

She goes through her day on autopilot and before she knows it she's back home, ready to face her night alone again. She pushes the door open, half praying he'll be waiting for her but her hopes shattered when she turns on the lights and finds no one.

"It's better this way." She lies to herself, pouring herself an obscene glass of soju. She's going to need plenty of alcohol to get through this pain.

Her head is woozy and heavy when she hears a sound, suddenly alert she stills in her chair before rushing over to get a frying pan walking on the tips of her toes she prowls closer to the clicking sound, finding herself at the window peering at a long lost friend. Placing the frying pan on her window sill she pry opens the window, screeching when the audacious bird flies inside landing on her table as if he belongs there.

"Hey Inzaghi! Get your dirty bird feet off my table!"

He looks at her nonchalantly, making himself comfortable on said table and she sighs before shutting the window and drunkenly swaying over to him.

"What are you even doing there? Do you want to be my bird now, I won't be a very good owner. I won't remember to feed you. I barely remember to feed myself."

Despite being a bird he finds a way to roll his eyes at her before standing up and only then does she notice something on his leg. She looks at him cautiously before moving closer and untying the paper on his leg, the pigeon barely reacts before flying over to her couch. She sighs in annoyance, she's going to have to clean everything after this bird leaves.

She unwinds the string holding the paper together, unrolling the paper scroll. There is a message written inside: the rooftop. 9 pm.

Glancing at her clock the time shines at her.

7:34pm.

"This could be a trap."

It very much could be, she has enemies now. It was a small price to pay for taking down Babel but she's always looking over her shoulders now, so this note could easily be someone luring her to hurt her or get back at Vincenzo.

Inzaghi coos loudly at her as if he can hear her thoughts. This time he finds a way to look exasperated.

She stumbles off to her room.

She needs time to think.

"So she told you that she loved you and you didn't say it back?"

"I was shocked. She was growling at me and looked ready to kill me at the same time." He reasons back, trying to show his hyung his point of view. The younger man doesn't look even a little bit convinced by his logic.

"Okay and? That sounds perfectly normal for you too. You should have shot someone and wrote it back in their blood on the table."

He recoils in disgust at the suggestion, "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you actually insane, why the fuck would I do that?"

Han Seo stares deadpan in return.

He puts up a hand trying to stop whatever response he has, "Don't say it."

It doesn't work.

"Pig's blood. Don't forget I saw it all, I've never seen Ms. Hong look so excited before. You're both crazy."

Well, that had been different. It was an old tradition, she simply had an appreciation for the classics.

"And I bet you're defending her right now in your mind. Noona is just like you, that's why you're made for each other. She's the gasoline to your fire."

"You know that would just make an even larger fire right?"

"Yes. I'm smart now remember? I know what I said."

He sighs falling into the comfortable familiarity of the couch, a spring digging into his thigh.

"Why didn't you say it back?" His stills at the barely whispered question, his chest constricting as he recalls the passionate confession. He had frozen, like he'd always known she was the brave one between them. Always doing the unexpected and the time was no different, her words had knocked him off his feet.

"Because I was scared."

Han Seo huffs at his honesty. He doesn't know where the words are coming from but he's tired of keeping it all in.

"Because if anything happens to her it'll break me, I thought it would be better if I kept her at a distance. I thought this was enough. I thought this would be easier. When I think about her I want to drop everything and just be with her and that...was too dangerous. I had to keep my distance."

There's a pregnant pause, just the sound of their breathing filling the void.

"Was it?"

"What?"

"Easier. Is this better? Enough?"

He thinks about Cha-young getting married to a faceless man, exchanging vows and sealing it with a kiss, happy and in love on their honeymoon wanton moans and screams from their room, learning that they're having a baby and her round and glowing with someone else's child smiling brightly as she rubs her belly and it's too much. He wants to smash it all into little pieces.

"No. It's not enough. I need her, without her nothing is enough."

"That's what you should have said to her. Don't glare at me I'm right, but I have an idea. I saw it in an American cartoon."

And that's how he lets his younger brother convince him to send a note to Cha-young using Inzaghi, the pigeon had shown up one night and he'd been so happy he almost kissed the bird.

"How will he know where Cha Young lives?" He asks skeptical even as he ties the note to the birds leg.

"I showed him a picture of her house. According to the cartoon, birds just know.”

He stares at the younger man, wondering why he's listening to this ridiculous plan.

"This is stupid. I should just text her, Inzaghi is never going to deliver this. He's just a regular pigeon."

"This is more romantic." He answers matter of fact.

"How is a pigeon delivering a message in anyway romantic?" He challenges already knowing from the shit eating grin he won’t like the response.

"The same way pig blood was." The brat counters and he doesn't get a chance to respond before Han Seo picks Inzaghi up and throws him out the window, "In the name of love!" He only barely stops himself from bashing his head into the wall, the younger man has to wrestle him to the ground.

It's stupid. They did all of this for nothing the cool breeze makes him pull his coat tighter around his body, exposed to the weather on the open space of the rooftop.

He checks his watch, 9:48.

She's not coming and the worst part is that he doesn't know if it's because that damn bird never delivered his message or if it's because she really doesn't want anything to do with him. The burden of not knowing hurts more than anything.

Expelling the air in his lungs he walks back to the single door that leads off the roof, twisting the doorknob in his hand and pulling it open.

Meeting the shocked face of one Cha-young.

They both just stare at each other before he speaks, "You came."

He can't believe it. Inzaghi had actually delivered the note, somehow the pigeon had found her house and she was here. He almost pinches himself to see if he'd passed out on the roof and this was just a dream.

"I didn't know Inzaghi was a carrier pigeon." She futilely tries to change the subject and he takes a step back, gathering the tattered pieces of his courage. The same courage that had propelled him to kiss her all those months ago on the stairs.

"I'm so happy you're here. I waited for you."

She stares at him like he has two heads before blushing, and avoiding his eyes.

"Come with me." He extends his hands and tries not to be too hurt when she bypasses it and steps around him instead.

At least she was here.

With a quick swipe of his hand he sends the message to his accomplices.

Now.

The lights come on, fairy lights decorating the roof top in a heavenly glow. She spins around in wonder, eyes nearly as bright she's so beautiful it's almost painful to look at her.

Then the music starts.

The soft notes filling the space.

When I walk down a road I don't know well....

She looks around in wonder, staring back at him she can’t believe what’s happening.

Then the letters start falling from the sky, all the letters he had written to her alone and missing her thousands of miles away. His plaza family smiles down at him, throwing letters from a higher building.

Cha-young stares up at the sky in surprise, hundreds of letters landing all around her.

It had taken a few days for Luca to send them all over and then another day to get the guts to do this, there was no turning back now. He had never willingly made himself vulnerable to anyone else, but according to Han Seo it was the only way he was going to win her back.

“She just wants to know that you love her too. Show her.”

He watches anxiously as she picks up a letter, stroking lightly at her own name on the front looking at him with stunned wet eyes.

“You wrote me a letter.” Her voice is revere and awe that he doesn’t deserve, not after everything he has put her through in the sake of protecting himself but he’s too elated to see her looking at him like that again, like he’s someone important to her.

“182. For each day we were apart. I told you I thought about you everyday, and every time I did I wrote you a letter.”

She stares at the letter in her hand, gently ripping it open and devouring the words on the page. Nerves shoot up and down his body as he watches her read his most private thoughts about her, her expressive face for once empty of emotions as she silently reads the letter.

He waits.

Breathless and terrified.

“Why didn’t you ever send them? They were mine so why did you keep them?” He hears an edge in her voice that makes him wonder if she’s only talking about the letters.

“Cha-young, I don’t think you understand.”

She breathes out loudly, stomping over to him until they are inches apart and he has no choice but to look into the deep pool of her eyes.

“I don’t! I don’t understand anything, I thought you had found someone else in Malta and the postcards were just your way of being nice. I thought you didn’t feel the same way I did, you were sending Han Seo letters but you wouldn’t do the same for me. What was I supposed to think? Why didn’t you try to help me understand, you were gone for six months!”

There’s so much wrong with everything she said, how could he find anyone else when his heart beats for her? How could he forget her when everything he did reminded him of her, he saw her every night in his dreams. But he doesn’t make the same mistake this time, he says what’s important.

“I feel the same way. I love you Cha-young. I thought this was better for you, that this could be enough. But I was wrong, I missed you every minute of every--”

“Come home with me.”

He stops, stares, gapes and then stares some more.

“What? I wasn’t finished confessing though.” Actually offended that she interrupted his planned speech. He was about to recite one of his favorite Italian love poems for her and then ask her to dance.

She rolls her eyes dragging him towards the door, “Don’t you think we’ve wasted enough time? It’s been six months and you have been here for too long, you have to go soon.”

She’s right, he has a flight in two days for an identity he borrowed for his escape.

“Listen to her, just go back to her place and have a good night!” That sounds like Cheol-Wook and then they all erupt into applause and start cheering and hollering, chanting their names and then to his embarrassment they start chanting, “Go have sex! Go have sex!” complete with the monks banging on their drums and he doesn’t think he will ever live down this moment, especially when he sees Miri capturing it on the new video camera he had gifted her.

He flips them off as an eager Cha-young pulls him away their laughter following them all the way.

The car ride is too long on the way over and she wonders how quickly she can undress them both as soon as they reach, there is simply no time to waste.

But once they get to the doorstep he suddenly freezes, tugging her backwards into his chest.

“This looks familiar doesn’t it?” His voice is dark and smoky and she immediately knows what he’s referring to, and she refuses to give him any reaction.

“Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“You let someone else touch you. Here.” He runs a hand up her neck, briefly squeezing, “And here,” she gasps at his hands suddenly on her breast, squeezing harshly at the tender flesh.

“So what are you going to do about it?” She knows that she’s playing with fire, but that is their foundation. She has never aimed to cool him off or tone him down, she sees the dark side inside of him and loves it, encourages it and feeds on it herself allowing it to bring her darkness out too.

He kicks the door open, shoving her side and she delights at the rough treatment. She hopes that she is filled with his bruises tomorrow.

She doesn’t wait for his next move, pulling her shirt up and over her head before tugging off her skirt leaving herself in a barely there lace panties and a matching lace bra that is translucent, her nipples peeking through the sheer material. He stares at her transfixed, his hunger evident in his eyes and in the tent forming in his tight dress pants.

“Take those off.” She commands and he smirks before obeying, peeling the pants off his thighs standing in his button down shirt and tight boxer briefs that leave nothing to her imagination, every delicious inch of him visible. She steps forward bringing their bodies in contact, before thrusting her hand inside the opening of his briefs. He feels hard and smooth, liquid pooling at the tip and she twists her hand collecting it to ease her slow strokes up and down. His voice hitches as she fingers his balls and without warning she tugs his boxers off, leaving him bare to her eyes.

Mesmerized by the unencumbered sight of him, she drops to her knees using her hand to guide him to her eagerly waiting mouth.

His flavor explodes on her tongue and she swallows more, grabbing his hips to drag him deeper into her mouth until she can feel him in her throat, but even after her eyes start to burn and she feels herself choking she doesn’t stop, bobbing up and down hungrily, sloppy wet sounds filling the room in a filthy symphony. At first he lets her control the movement, pliant in her hands but as she increases her speed and suction he starts groaning and huffing loudly and then she feels his hand on the back of her hand, keeping her in place and when she looks up at him he looks wrecked. Eyes dazed and his face red and flushed, she ingrains that image in her mind, for when he’s gone and all she has are her toys.

She stares back defiantly before he draws himself out of her mouth, a single line of spit connecting them and then he thrusts back into her mouth roughly and she opens her mouth wider to accept the abuse, loving every second of it even as a her throat aches. He sets a frantic pace, his balls slamming against her chin and she doesn’t realize at first that his grunts have transformed into words, too much blood rushing to her head.

“Mine. Mine, nobody can---ah fuck! Nobody can see you like this. Only me. You’re mine.”

He fucks her mouth like it’s his to use and do what he pleases, and she’s wetter than she’s ever been listening to him claim her verbally and with the wet push of his dick in her mouth.

She starts grinding on the floor like a cat in heat and without preamble he grabs her under her armpits and lifts her like she weighs nothing, his dick sliding free from her hot mouth, “I want to make you scream.” He says this like a declaration of love and she throws herself at him, kissing the words off his lips. His tongue swirls in her mouth and she wonders if he can taste himself in her. It makes her hotter and she grinds her barely covered pussy onto his naked length, groaning at the friction even though the thin layer separating them.

He tosses her onto the bed and she doesn’t even remember them walking, his tongue and his wondering fingers had completely distracted her.

She lays sprawled across the bed as he stares at her, like she’s feast he can’t wait to devour.

“Nobody has been in here.” She doesn’t know if he’s asking a question or making a statement, but she feels that his jealousy is real. Seeing her with someone else had done something to him, guilt washes over her. If she had seen him with someone else she would have lost her mind too.

“Nobody. I never brought anyone home before, that guy was a mistake. I was just hurt and missing you. I’m sorry.”

He had abandoned her for six months and she didn’t owe him anything but his pain is her pain and they are stronger now, everything has been said.

“Good.”

Then he rips her panties away and buries his face between her legs, prying her wide open with his hands and lapping at her with his searing hot tongue. Immediately he has his wish and she screams, loud enough to fill the entire room.

“Already screaming amore? It’s going to be a long night, I want to make you hoarse.”

She doesn’t get a moment to respond before he’s back to licking and sucking at her most sacred part, fingers deep inside her as he thrusts and strokes alongside his tongue, his fingers and tongue moving in tandem and she tries to stifle the scream but a particularly deep fuck makes the sound erupt from her throat and her head feels dizzy from the overwhelming sensation.

He has boundless energy it seems, as time drags by and she feels her body tightening up as he systemically destroys her, he never takes a break or pauses, slurping up all the liquid that drips from her and the sounds of him swallowing are beyond erotic. When a hand runs up her stomach and squeezes at a bouncing breast she can’t contain her moans of pleasure, crying out as his fingers pinching the tight bud of her nipple.

“Please.”

He coos in her, “So pretty when you beg.” Then he sticks his tongue as far as it can go and she hears the rush of blood in her head as her body shakes apart and her release gushes from her body, twitching when he laps it all up her oversensitive body recoiling from the overstimulation.

She has never come like that before, most men have never put in the work necessary to make her come and she wasn’t one to fake it so her experiences with sex with someone else were few and far in between.

This feels like nirvana.

“You still with me amore?” The bastard looks so smug, looming above her naked arms on the side of her head, and she had no idea when he took his shirt off.

“I can’t feel like my legs.”

He chuckles loudly at the statement, grinning growing wider.

“Well I can assure you that they’re still there and they will look great wrapped around my waist.”

Raising to his challenge, although her body is still buzzing she wraps her legs around his waist, they feel like jelly but she finds the strength to follow through with her movement.

“I was right they do look great.”

“Well this would look great in me.” She counters, grabbing at his thick ruddy red dick jutting from his body and he rocks into her hand before knocking her hand away and taking himself in his hand.

“Do we need a condom?” He asks her, looking like he is ready to stop at nay minute if she tells him that they do.

“No.”

She has been on birth control since she was a teen and there’s been no one for her since she met him, and she trusts that it’s been the same for him.

“Thank goodness, I want to feel everything.” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s easing into her, slow and steady. She lets him continue for a moment before she tightens her legs around his waist and pulls him in roughly, as deep as she can get him in this position. “Fuck, you’re so impatient.”

“Shut up and fuck me already.”

He grumbles at her calling her bossy, but she sighs when he draws out and slams back in with a quick snap of his hips.

“Yes just like that!”

He takes direction very well, repeating the motion until the bed starts to creak from their movements, he pistons in and out of her gone all semblance of gentle or slow, they have teetered into a speed that can only be defined as “break neck” and she feels her body sliding up the mattress as he pounds into her over and over again, she latches onto his neck eager to leave a branding mark on him and he groans at the suction, grinding harder into her and gripping her ass to force her to meet his vicious thrusts.

Absently she feels him peeling her bra from her body, the only remaining item of clothing that has survived their coupling and she knows exactly when he sees the scar. The grotesque knitting of skin that had left a permanent scar on her shoulder, she almost covers it up but when she peels her eyes open he is staring at her mesmerized.

“Don’t look.”

He leans down to kiss it, the softest more precious kiss she has ever received in her life.

He peppers more kisses all over, then strokes at it with a single finger.

“I should have realized, this was your confession. I was an idiot. I will never be that stupid again, I love you so much. I would do anything for you. Anything.”

He puts her legs on her shoulder, nearly bending her in half before resuming his thrusts but they are less frenzied now, it feels like lovemaking. Her eyes prickle when he kisses her scar with every downward thrust, whispering, “Beautiful, so beautiful. Every inch of you.”

She cries out.

With every thrust he kisses her scar, making her feel lightheaded and naked.

When he moves them into a new position, her back to his front giving him better access to her scar, she loses herself as he whispers sweet nothings into her ears and litters the spot with warm kisses.

She falls off the edge with his lips on her scar and him deep inside her, warm bursts filling her up before leaking out onto the bed sheets.

“Today’s our last day.”

Waking up next to him is torture, she tries not to ingrain that in her mind but it’s too late it’s already there. He blinks away the sleep in his eyes at her words and then nods solemnly in agreement.

“Yes for this visit. But I’ll always come back for you.”

She smiles brightly, “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

They don’t leave the bed except to get breakfast and that ends with her laid across the kitchen table getting taken from behind after teasing him. He can’t seem to keep his hands off her new hair, twisting the short strands in his hands and yanking on them. She catches him looking at her heatedly more than once.

Then they wind up in the shower, trying to clean up and getting dirtier instead, his hands tight in her hair and around her waist as he hoists her up to pound her into the wall. Making up for lost time.

They get messages from their entire family, Vincenzo showing her a message from Han Seo asking if he’s going to be an uncle soon. She promises to embarrass him in front of Miri very, very soon.

Both pretend they don’t feel the day fading away, bringing them closer to their goodbye.

Tomorrow he will be gone again, but there’s no guessing now. She knows what she means to him now and that’s more than enough.

She wakes up to an empty bed and a ticket to Malta, the ball is in her court.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #smut #but you know with feelings #romance isn't dead #you can find it in strange places #like pig's blood #han seo has the best wingman #the mafia family

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byulsgrease · 3 years

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for worse ⋆ I promise you

previous || masterlist || next

(~1.3k words, cw angst)

It'd been a while since we'd properly hung out. Adulting, am I right? People told me over the years that college friendships were never really the same after graduation. Didn't really know what they meant until real work began. Truly no other time in life matched college with everyone in the same place, taking advantages of similar opportunities, and living within walking distance of each other. I could go on forever about how the 40-hour workweek solely exists to drain everyone until they're nothing but soulless shells, but I digress.

Regrettably I left my first full-time job after realizing it wasn't for me. It kind of kick-started an existential spiral about what the hell I was doing with my life. I thought I had left that behind in college, having scored a job just before I graduated. I had a sense of security, direction, all that. But actually working led me to realize that I legitimately hated it. I knew I wasn't the first person on earth to hate the job associated with their college field of study, but it certainly felt like it.

What had she been up to at the time? Word floated around that she'd started producing tracks for Yongsun, DJ-ing, and working random gigs to make ends meet. But we usually tried not to talk about work much, we knew better than to waste our time on the pleasantries. Not that I had anything noteworthy to report, admittedly I hadn't been doing much of anything. Sending resumes into the void of online job postings between episodes of whatever new TV series I marathoned. She came over to my place and I made instant ramyun topped with hard-boiled eggs and some kind of green vegetable (despite her protests), slurping up the nostalgic saltiness together.

"So, how's the job hunt going?" she asked between sips of the sodium-filled instant broth fogging her glasses. I'd been unemployed for a couple months, she knew at least that much.

I don't even remember the specifics of my response, maybe I complained about the monotony or not hearing anything back, but I just remember the uncharacteristic edge that came into her voice.

She paused. "Isn't that what you told me the last time I saw you?"

I shrugged.

"No leads at all?"

"There's been a couple, but they didn't pan out. Can we talk about something else?" Please, dear God. Anything else.

"Didn't pan out... because you didn't prepare enough? Or because you didn't want them to?" What got into her?

"I did what I could, okay? It just didn't work out."

"You are actively looking, right?" she probed, glaring decidedly over her black plastic frames.

"Yep."

"Hey. I'm just making sure you don't end up where you were in your last job. Absolutely miserable, if I'm not mistaken," she stared with a knowing look and directed point of her chopsticks, jabbing at the air in front of my face.

"Okay! Thanks. Appreciate the concern." I tried to keep it light but an unmistakable bitterness slipped out alongside, which she countered with a scoff.

"You've always been like this, you know," she lamented. "So quick to point out what's wrong about a situation, but never able to come up with a better alternative. Do you even know what you want?"

"It's been rough, I just don't know where to start," I bumbled defensively, probably tacking on other lackluster excuses pulled straight out of my ass. I quite nearly said you. I want you. In the mess of a life I had lived so far she was kind of the only constant. But that would've been rather stupid, wouldn't it? Using her as another excuse.

"Oh please, everyone loves doing at least one thing. Maybe if you quit watching TV for 5 seconds and thought a little longer about what you actually enjoy, you could be doing more, going places."

She meant well, I knew. But that was the flip side of having known each other for so long— we knew just the stuff that cut the deepest. I asked to change the subject, didn't I?

"Why do you always have to offer advice, be the one to fix everyone around you? Have you ever considered that's not what everyone needs? I wonder sometimes if you're even listening."

"But you need it."

"Says who, did I ask?" I shot back, not caring to hide the annoyance anymore.

"I'm just saying. You're falling into a pattern, you need to get out of it and stop making excuses before you waste away," she replied in a tone far too calm for my liking. How did she stay so collected? She usually never missed the chance to get fired up over an argument.

Tears unconsciously leapt to my eyes, both because she was right but also because she wouldn't match my emotional energy— irrational, I know. Emotion, there's no stopping it before you feel it. Tried to hide them anyway because I'm not usually a crier, breathing deep and turning my chin towards the ceiling, blinking vigorously in hopes that they wouldn't start streaming down my face.

"We're not kids anymore, you're no one's responsibility but your own." She put her hands on her knees to decidedly stand up from her chair, taking our near-empty bowls over to the sink.

The tears stung like her words did, but it's not like she said anything untrue. Just wished she could be a bit better about the delivery, but beating around the bush with her? Never.

I stammered the start of some kind of apology but she cut me off—

"If you're gonna give me another excuse, stop. Just stop," she said curtly, and then immediately paused and sighed. Who knew she had it in her to maturely cool off mid-conversation? "You and I both know talk is cheap. Just... prove it to me, okay? I know you have it in you. But I can't stand idly by and let you waste time like this." Her spiel ended decidedly with the clink of the porcelain inside the sink basin. I dunno if she expected me to reply, not that I could've with the lump in my throat, so I sat in silence while she wordlessly washed the dishes, air filled with the sound of running water and scented soap.

She walked over to her sneakers when she finished and stepped into them without untying the laces, raising one foot at a time and freeing the smashed heel of each shoe with a finger. For someone that liked sneakers so much, she treated them terribly. Maybe that's why she insisted on owning so many pairs.

"I've gotta go, long day in the studio tomorrow," she nearly sighed, hands stuffed meekly in her pockets.

Stay. Help me through this. It'd be so much easier together. Obviously, not at all what I said.

"Understandable, work night." Yet another reminder of my unemployment. "Good to see you, though," I hesitated for a split second before tacking on, "It's been too long. I know you're busy, but don't be a stranger, okay?" The corner of her lip tugged upwards, a suggestion of a smile flashed my way before she grasped the doorknob to let herself out.

"Yeah. Lemme know how the job search goes. I'll buy you a drink," she chuckled to herself, walking out into the night air with a hand raise that she always did instead of a proper wave, shutting the door behind her.

I trudged over to my laptop and opened it with a pitied laugh and resigned shake of my head. Even after a spat Byul could still get me to follow her damn advice. Pretty sure I spent the rest of the night editing my resume.

Was that the beginning of the end? Nah. You can't end what never started.

But like I've said, it all worked out for the better in the end— I never said painlessly, though.

#oof this took a while #angst is so hard to write but satisfying all said and done #I promise you #mamamoo imagines #moonbyul imagines #moonbyul x reader #moon byulyi #mamamoo moonbyul #mamamoo angst #girl group angst #kpop angst #kpop imagines #gg imagines #girl group fic #mamamoo x reader #mamamoo fic

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small-gremlin-thing · 3 years

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MY THOUGHTS ON AMPHIBIA S3E4

I really loved this episode! The intro of a new character, the multiple plot elements, and the overall design was really nice all together.

First off, in this house we already stan Dr. Jan. I can already tell she’s gonna be an extremely important character to drive forward the plot, and her personality and passion for things is honestly infectious. Plus, her character design is absolutely phenomenal! Bonus points for the earrings, I want a pair and I don’t even wear earrings.

Next, the vase/pot/jug thingy. I’m calling it a vase for sake of clarity, but do correct me if it’s not a vase. The message on the side reading “Seek the mother of olms, she will guide you to your destiny” is making my theorist brain go haywire. I’m sure by now everyone has already googled when an olm is, but if not, it’s basically a blind aquatic salamander notable for its lack of eyes and fleshy appearance with a very keen sense of smell and hearing due to lack of vision. We’ve seen these creatures depicted in all three of the temples, as well as live ones in the episode “Quarrelers Pass”, in which they do talk about their mother. This is all so much to think about, and what I’ve already read in terms of theories and such only has me more excited.

Small side note regarding the vase, the way that Anne just whips Marcy’s journal out of nowhere legitimately made me pause the episode for a second. I have so many questions, like how did she get ahold of it? What else has she found in there? My current theory is that she mixed up hers and Marcy’s while packing to go home (though I don’t know how you can mistake them for one another) and brought Marcy’s journal home instead of her own.

Lastly, let’s me take a moment to gush about the temple design, because it’s just so freaking good! Amphibia is really known as a show with amazing background design, and this episode was no exception. I also quite enjoyed each of the Plantars connecting with Thai culture, that was a really nice aspect.

All in all, after reading the synopsis for the future episodes, I couldn’t be more excited for the rest of this half of the season. In conclusion, Saturdays come faster challenge.

#amphibia #amphibia season 3 #amphibia spoilers #anne boonchuy #sprig plantar #polly plantar #hop pop plantar #marcy wu #dr jan #i saw the runes and translated them by myself only for anne to translate them later. i hate this show /j

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internalsealpanic · 4 years

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Cosmonauts

Summary: You always call Tim space related nicknames. No one knows why.

A/n: This is technically a follow up to Art Gallery Smile but it can be read on its own. This was posted on mobile so Idk how bad it got formatted. Will edit when I get to my laptop.

Warnings: mentions of panic attack and anxiety. No graphic detail but just in case. (Yes, I gave Tim anxiety. Fight me.)

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“IT WAS ZOMBIE ADJACENT,” Roz protests, shoving another one of Tim’s fries into her gaping maw in a vain attempt to stop the petulant pout retching its way to her lips. You roll your eyes hard enough that your entire head follows along with their movement, taking a nibble of your own fries. Roz scowls, mouth twitching the way yours does (4 times to the left and 4 and a half times to the right) it was honestly the only way to tell that you two were related in any shape or form.

“It wasn’t even close, you deep-fried stick of margarine,”

“It shambled, didn’t it?”

“So does Space Case over here when you don’t funnel enough caffeine into his system, what’s your point?” You bite out leaning back, slinging your arm over the back of the bench and over Tim’s shoulder making his breath hitch. Tim can feel his skin heat up. For once, he’s thankful for just how much Roz hordes your attention. He’s starting to run out of excuses for the color of his cheeks. Not that you ever fell for any of it from the way you hummed every time he stammered out his excuse.

Based on the way your hand flexes and not so subtly moves away, you noticed his flush but made no comment. Instead, you grin- all sharp teeth and cocksure and smug bastard- leveling your older cousin a look which roughly translated to ‘Checkmate, motherfucker’. Despite his apprehension, Tim can’t help the smile that twitched on to his lips. Your eyes flickered to him. It might just be his imagination but Tim was pretty sure he saw fondness chip away at your smug grin. Tim kind of wants to lean into your arm but instead, he leans forward pretending to pay attention hiding his smile in his hands. His face is gonna get tired from smiling too much around you.

"It wasn't even close,"

"It was freaky looking,"

"Damn woman, you're being real judgy there,"

“Back me up here Duckie!” Roz screeches, shoulders hiking up making her look like a frazzled cat about to hiss pulling Tim away from his reverie. You roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head while Steph just snorts. Tim sighs. None of you have stopped calling him ‘Duckie’ or ‘Ducktective’ after that stint of being ‘Drake’. Admittedly, it wasn’t his best idea but you didn’t have to laugh that hard and slap your knee. When you were done laughing, you vehemently protested the name change by wearing your precious, well-kept, one of a kind Red Robin hoodie for the duration of the ‘Drake’ thing. You had said it was to bring him back to his senses (sense of fashion). Maybe you just wanted to fluster him. He certainly couldn’t put it past you. It worked. Oh, it definitely worked. Now, all he could think about was how nice you looked in his colors which inevitably lead him to think about how nice you would look in his shirts, in his clothes- Damn it. He’s doing it again.

Roz clears her throat. It is loud and rough and it makes all of you wince despite the already loud atmosphere of the cafeteria. Really what does Roz expect him to say? One, Tim wasn’t fully paying attention. How could he when you two are smooshed together on a cramped cafeteria bench with you still wearing your Red Robin hoodie? Tim’s surprised he isn’t keeling over. Two-

“See! Even our darling-” Tim’s brain short circuits. “Space Cadet can’t even defend your bullshit,” you laugh reaching over to Roz’s drink leaning a little too close to Tim’s face. He can almost feel the heat radiating off your skin.

If I lean in just a little more, I could probably…

“It isn’t bullshit!”

“You’re right! Bullshit has more substance-”

“Sooooo, what’s with all the space nicknames for Tim? When do I get one?” Steph asks casually, popping another of Tim’s fries into her mouth.

Has he even eaten any of his fries? It’s almost gone and he’s eaten at most one.

You choke making a pained noise, likely due to said carbonated drink going into your nostrils (and possibly your lungs), as you turn away. Your neck visibly red from where Tim is sitting. Based on the sparkle in Steph’s eyes, she can see it too. A manic grin spreads on Roz’s face wide enough that Tim legitimately worries that it’ll split her face wide open. A shrill sort of giggle escapes her which has you whipping your head to her direction to scowl at her. It does absolutely nothing to deter the sheer glee on her face as she sneers back to you. Some secret conversation passes between the two of you. Tim and Steph watch in slow motion as mortification creeps on to your face.

Suddenly (not really), Tim’s thankful that his only sister is practically a saint. At least compared to the horror that is Roz.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, you have a plethora of space-themed nicknames for him when you aren’t busy calling him whatever endearingly aggravating name Steph came up with that week.

Cosmo

Space Case

Space Nuts

Rocket Man

Martian Manhunter

Marvin (the Martian)

And your favorite, Cosmonaut.

At first, he figures it was because of his obsession love for Star Wars and Star Trek but no, that couldn’t be it since you had started calling him that long before you two ended up marathoning the entirety of Star Trek instead of working on your project. He can still remember just how engrossed you looked while watching as you hugged your knees to your chest leaning forward as you waited for the next episode to start up with bated breath. Your features highlighted by the glow of the laptop screen making it very easy for Tim to memorize the contours and angles of your expression. Yet another moment Tim really wanted to capture with a photo. You even did your mouth twitch thing without noticing.

He really wanted to just keep an entire album of all the different expressions you made. Wait. That sounds weird. Does it sound weird? It probably does.

Then again, maybe you called him those because of just how much of a weirdo he was. He couldn’t blame you if you did. But he found that highly unlikely. Sure, you can be mean at times (a lot of times) but you were too oblique for that. Years in customer service made sure of that. Your jabs were usually of the subtler, more needling variety. The type that makes you pause for too long. Plus, you said every nickname with a fondness that made his heart skip a beat. It was like when you called Roz or Steph ‘Fucker’. Maybe a little warmer. Or he could just be imagining that. Probably. Hopefully not. It was hard to get the honey-sweet way you said them out of his head.

Maybe they were just jabs. Lighthearted one. They could have just had easily been comments on just how much he spaced out. Tim has a tendency to live in his own head and it shows especially when he’s stressed or tired or both. Sometimes he would completely shut down as a result of excess anxiety. He can still remember the number of times he had let his anxieties run rampant letting them drag him away from the moment. His breaths were too quick to back then. He felt like he was gonna faint but then you just smiled at him like you were there for him which as it turned out you were. You gently squeezed each segment of his fingers until his breaths slowed. Even when he did fully calm down, you didn’t relinquish his hand. You held them firmly in your own even as you looked entirely unsure of what to do and what to say. You didn’t whisper the usual ‘you’re ok’ or the classic ‘you’ll be fine’. No, you just sat there with him quietly. Letting his feelings ebb and flow as he needed them to.

Tim really isn’t sure what he did to deserve even knowing someone like you but he would do it again and again if it meant being able to stick close to you.

Roz, ever the agent of chaos, throws a conspiratorial smile around the table like a flail. You look like you’ve been hit by one.

“Sorry, Steph. You won’t get one,” she says glancing at you. Steph pouts before she and Tim follow Roz’s gaze expecting you to glower or snarl or get up to deck her. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You just kind of sit there frozen and mortified with a face that simply says ‘Oh. God. This is happening.’. All you can really do is mouth a ‘fuck you’. This obviously pleases Roz. Say what you will about Roz, but there is abso-fucking-lutely no denying that she is petty as hell when it comes to revenge. Nothing is sacred to this woman. Nothing.

“Why’s that?” Steph asks innocently, smiling around her bendy straw also enjoying this rare chance to torment you.

“I’m so glad you asked!” Roz answers her voice twisting into a horrifying facsimile of a daytime talk show host. You peel your arm away from the backrest and place your arms over your head and neck as you do in an earthquake drill bracing for impact. By the way, you were shaking, you’d think there was an actual earthquake. Your reasoning can’t be that stupid.

“My dear Stephanie-” Steph scrunches her nose at the overly sweet tone Roz lathers on her name but makes no move to interrupt. “(y/n) only uses space-related nicknames for people they think are- and I quote- ‘waaaaaay outta their league’,” You let out a pained groan and Steph’s face unfurls as she lets out the loudest snort, loud enough to draw the attention of several tables around them.

Tim’s mind is still reeling, still trying to process what Roz just said.

Him?

Out of your league?

Excuse him, isn’t it the other way around?

What the hell?

“Tim, for the love of Alfred, please unhear that,” you plead wetly, parking your head out just enough for Tim to see just how red your face has gotten. “God, please unhear it or I might just die,” Tim kind of didn’t doubt that you would. Steph somehow laughs even louder at this. Roz, not one to miss pouring salt in the wound, laughs along with her. You look like you wanted to implode out of existence. You could certainly try but Tim seriously doubts the universe is kind enough to let you escape.

Yeah, Tim’s brain has officially left the building. He’ll be back at 9 o’clock sharp tomorrow. Promise.

“You mean to tell me that-” Steph chokes, unable to control her laughing fit. “-You’re telling me that you’ve been watching them pine for each other for over a year now and you just let them?!” Steph wheezes still holding her stomach.

Roz looks offended and makes a whiny little noise. “Weeeell, technically I offered to wingman-”

“YOU WERE GONNA CHARGE ME FIFTY BUCKS,”

“Hey, matchmaking is hard,”

“It isn’t worth fifty bucks!”

“You’re right! It is worth so much more,”

“God, I hate you,” you groan into the table.

“God can’t help you now, kid,”

Tim frowns, mind backtracking to dissect the information. Apparently, his brain decided to clock back in.

They knew. Even Roz ‘I don’t give a shit what you do as long as it doesn’t affect me’ Andrada, noticed. Was he that obvious?

A year? Wait. No. Over a year. They knew about this for over a year.

Lastly, what do you mean each other?! As in mutual? Mutual pining?

As if reading his thoughts, you ask “Wait… what do you mean each other?”

Roz blinks at you not entirely sure if you’re being funny. When you give her a look, she slumps back in her chair. “I’m related to a dumbass,”

“That you are. Speaking of dumbasses-” Steph whips her attention to Tim giving him a shit-eating grin.”-You said you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask (y/n) out, right?” Steph waves her hands doing jazz hands as she points at your still dumbstruck figure. She’s smiling as if she was the world’s best wingman at the moment.

Tim suppresses a groan. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured it,”

Roz reaches into her pocket and produces a lighter. Grabbing the last of Tim’s fries and lighting it. “There. Mood lighting. Do the thing.”

“Ah yes, because surely the scent of burning potatoes is gonna sweep (y/n ) off their feet,” Tim said flatly crossing his arms. He knows he’s definitely focusing on the wrong thing but as with all things it was easier to procrastinate. This is especially true when you’re afraid of the outcome.

Roz huffs, waving the fry to extinguish it and muttering something about beggars and choosers. “Trust me kid that isn’t hard to do. Besides, did you not hear the part where I quoted (y/n) about you being ‘outta their league’,” You open your mouth to protest but slam it shut when Roz gives you a lopsided grin looking like she had a mountain of dirt on you which she likely did. He was definitely thankful that she has never met his family. He’s pretty sure Gotham wouldn’t survive.

“How could I possibly be out of (y/n)’s league. I- I don’t- I mean- I’m not-”

Your body twists his way fast enough that he’s sure you either have whiplash or a twisted spine. Your eyes are set on him glowering as if he’d said something wrong. He’s pretty sure he didn’t although he did have a talent for putting his foot in his mouth. Your jaw is set tight, your teeth almost grind. He could see the tight hitch in your shoulders. He is 100% sure you’re going to deck him.

“Do you want it listed alphabetically or what?”

“What?”

“Structure it like an argumentative essay. Speak nerd.” Roz instructs, earning her the full force of your glare. Your face pinches even more. Maybe this was the part where you implode.

You suck in a calming breath before turning back to Tim.

“Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, you are a fucking moron, and here’s why:” Taking another breath, you turn to face him fully your cheeks reddening but you press on either from pure unadulterated spite or determination.

“You quite literally co-run a multibillion-dollar corporation. You’ve been doing that since you were seventeen apparently. You know several languages and you are not only fluent but proficient. You’re well versed in an insane amount of fighting styles. You are the smartest dumbass I know-”

“Preach!” Steph jokes.

“-You can basically operate any machinery I put in front of you. I have no doubt you can Macgyver one up if you fucking wanted. You could hack into any system you want just as a joke. You could probably throw the entire global economy into the toilet just for shits and giggles. Need I go on?”

Tim looks at you wide-eyed and speechless. You shrink a little as he continues to gape at you but you keep looking him in the eyes daring him to refute your claims. Really what was there to say? As much as he wants to come up with something witty to snap back at you, his chest is too crowded with warmth from the absolute sincerity of your voice. He knows you didn’t set out to make him fall deeper in love with you but he feels like he’s in free fall with your gravity pulling him downwards. Tim can feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears.

You shrink again, your mouth twitching. “I-” Another calming breath. “I said too much. But my point stands!” The infinitesimal gap he felt between the two of you practically vanished. Still, he could do nothing but stare. Words fail him in the most inopportune moments even when you look so desperate for any kind of response. You swallow thickly looking like you think you’ve ruined everything when the fact was you haven’t. Quite the opposite really. Tim feels like he could take on the entirety of Gotham’s rogue gallery right now. Still, his brain was drawing a blank.

“Mood,” His brain has short-circuited and is now beyond repair. His palm is in his face before he even sees your reaction. You give him an entire speech about how great he is and all he can say is ‘mood’. Looking over at Steph and seeing her phone on her hands, he can tell she’s already transcribing the events to the group chat. Well, It can’t get any worse.

You giggle snort eyes slamming shut from the force of your laughter. Joy suffuses throughout your tense body, loosening your tense muscles. “Thank you for proving my point,” you say between gasps.

Tim falls victim to the infectious smile spreading on your face. He feels the warmth crowding his chest grow fuzzy.

Now’s your chance.

Tim takes a steadying breath. He rolls his shoulder back to straighten his posture. He waits for you to calm yourself a bit. When you do, he asks as confidently as he can “Are you free this Saturday?”

“No,”

Oh crap. He knew he screwed up. He feels cold seep into his feet.

You shake your head at his panic. “I work Saturday, ET,”

“Oh, I-”

“I have all of Sunday off though,” A hum of excitement spreads through his limbs. “Name your time,”

“9 AM?”

You give him a look roughly translating to ‘You aren’t going to lose sleep over a date, so help me’.

“11:30?” He corrects. You smile and hum seemingly making the oxygen in the atmosphere disappear. He finds that he doesn’t mind, not when he feels like he’s floating on zero gravity.

-------------------------------------------------

Bonus:

Steph: Tim’s a dumbass😌🙃

Damian: Thank you for stating the obvious, Brown.

Step: 🙄 Do you wanna hear about it or not?

Dick: 👀We’re listening…

Steph: (Y/n) made this whole speech about Tim and all Tim could say was 'mood' cycgu9c8ychic8td 5d8fcouv9ygpuv

Jason: F

Duke: F

Cass: F

Babs: F

Dick: F

---------------

Thanks for reading!!!!!

Taglist:

@idkmanicantenglish, @batarella, @batarella-mini, @birdy-bat-writes, @anothertimdrakestan, @founduebitches , @lucy-roo

#tim drake imagines #tim drake x reader #tim drake #batboys #step brother #wingmanning is hard #batfam #red robin #dc fanfiction #dc x reader

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chattingwiththelightkeeper · 3 years

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A Big Bang, Mr. Spock, A Vintage Toy, And The Newer Submissive...

After an insanely long day being a good worker bee, I was doing more work at home with the TV on as background noise. There was a Big Bang Theory marathon on and it was serving a great purpose of entertaining me during breaks in my work. Then suddenly found myself caught up in an episode where Penny purchased for Leonard and Sheldon new and mint in box Star Trek toys from the 1970s. To make a long story short, Sheldon gives in to his id, breaks open the box, and plays with his toy. This adventure turns tragic and humorous when the toy breaks and he goes to great lengths to hide this while attempting to exchange his broken toy with Leonard’s still mint inbox. Sheldon’s antics as well as the process he follows to admit what he has done provided a welcome break from my work crap-o-la. This pause in my work did spark a thought about kink and hopefully, over the next bit, you can see how Penny, Leonard, Sheldon, Mr. Spock, and a 1970’s Star Trek transporter toy made my brain think about what it is like to be newer to the lifestyle and submissive.

Sheldon’s broken transporter toy caused me to think back to my childhood and I think we all knew a kid who was always breaking their toys, on purpose and this child’s parents would simply buy them a new one to replace the broken toy. No matter how many times or the expense this spoiled youngster would just be given a new toy as a replacement. Sadly, some of these compulsive toy breakers did grow up and find their way into the world of D/S. However, now that they are all grown up the toys they are breaking are not G.I. Joes or smashing Ken and his car through Barbie’s dream house. They are preying upon and attempting to shatter something much worse, the new submissive.

I want to chat about how someone new to the lifestyle can potentially discover these toy breakers before learning this life lesson through experience. First, know these people are not dominants but are predators who are out looking to prey upon those who are new. If you have almost been or have been victimized by one of these creep-its do not blame yourself because they are very good at what they do.

I want to start by talking about an experience most people who are new have and they are hopping around Tumblr, FetLife, or the kink-friendly site of their choice on a dark, starry night and they stumble upon someone who has created an image that they are an expert. Now on many sites that are kinky-based or friendly, many people are amazing leaders within the community and they exist side by side with the faux expert and their evil spawn, the predator hunting new people. I can imagine that it can feel very challenging to try to figure out which is the wheat or the chaff, so I have some suggestions that my help identify those with bad intentions:

They will often be dismissive of others in the community. The thoughts and opinions of anyone who dissents from their views are dismissed and disparaged.

These people may use phrases like sub trainer or even scarier sub breaker. Remember, even though a person may be a new submissive, they are still unique and their likes/desires do not need to be trained and certainly not broken.

They will not want someone to seek opinions or ideas from others, especially if those thoughts vary from their own.

If they post writings and not just hardcore porn, their writings/thoughts may feature soft, sensual D/S images where the pictures are powerful, inviting while designed to mask what is hidden in the words. While not all who use words and images together are bad but it is imperative to focus on strictly the words by removing the visual from your mind.

Look for contradictions. For example, if a d-type says they are a feminist or they support women’s rights but when you carefully read their words phrases “like all women naturally desire a dominant partner” or “women were designed to serve their leader” appear.

Blog posts and their expressions will often contain references to taking, seizing, overpowering, or any other word/phrase that denotes submission is something that can be taken, captured, demanded, or simply expected. Submission can only be freely given by the submissive and I believe a dominant will never ask for or in any way attempt to coax it from an s-type.

Anything that implies a submissive is weak or not as powerful as a dominant. Submissives are not weak or in any way shape or form less than a d-type.

Do not fall for the old line that a real submissive will or will not do/act a certain way poppycock. It is up to you to decide what is real or not. Just because you want/enjoy something that someone else dislikes, does not diminish or take away from who you are or make you less submissive. If you see or hear this line of crap-o-la, know what it truly is, an attempt to bully you or someone else into doing as the dumbinant wants.

Relationships, kinky or vanilla, are still partnerships. People who are dismissive of this should be looked at with a wary eye.

Beware of fake news in writings and blog posts. Some of the more creative predators will appear to reference scholarly work to support their beliefs. Even though you see references to legitimate scholars, for example, Dr. So and So says, there never is any documentation. Writing a kinky blog post does not sound like a place for documentation, but if you are going to using other’s work to support a thesis or use a quote, documenting the source (right down to the page number) is imperative because it is the right thing to do (which speaks to the person’s honesty) but also so the reader can verify that the quote or information is not taken out of context or fabricated. Remember, “All quotes on the internet are true” - Abraham Lincoln.

Be wary of those who use dominance to hide their insecurities. No matter how accomplished an individual is, everyone has insecurities. Some claim dominance but will also deny having even a single insecurity. Should you encounter this, channel your inner Robot, “Danger Will Robinson, Danger!” Robot, Lost In Space.

Never accept or allow someone to tell, imply or suggest that you should distance yourself from family and/or friends. Those that prey often look to break a submissive from their support system.

Build friendships with other dominants and submissives so you can seek advice from them. Even if they are casual, they can be a sounding board and second opinion.

Being dominant is not an excuse to not be respectful to others. Those who express that a dominant cannot be courteous or are so cocky that their behavior is asshatted, need to be stepped away from.

The only person who knows what you want and is YOU. Do not allow others to suggest they know better than you what your thoughts and desires are.

If you feel that you are being manipulated or if a dominant is making you question your sanity, RUN! Always trust yourself and your feelings.

We all have heard the expression that life is short, but also remember there is no reason to rush into things. Take your time, learn about yourself and what you want. You do not need to jump into any relationship or be pressured to do so. It may take you years before you feel comfortable in the lifestyle. There is no hurry. Life is a journey, enjoy it.

Always be careful with the information you share with someone online as predatory individuals can use this against you. Think of it as having your “rights” read to you. Anything you do, say, or share can be used against you, so always be conscious of what you are sharing.

Building trust is a great thing but when you are vetting someone, always verify.

If the conversation is led or focused on kinky play, sex, or both, this is a red flag that this is all the individual is seeking.

Always inquire about safe words and run faster than Forrest Gump from anyone who says they refuse to use/dislikes them. Being submissive does not in any way remove your right to say no for any reason and at any time.

There is no one true way to get your kink on and what works for you is amazing. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

Lastly, dating in the world of kink is a very complex process. Your vanilla friends may complain about the complexities they face but do not forget that kink relationships have to work as vanilla relationships while blending in D/S. Do not fall into the trap of trying to just match fetishes because the perfectly imperfect partner will fit both your traditional, vanilla relationship needs as well as your lifestyle needs.

Thank you for taking the time to read this as I know it is a bit on the long side and many people online seem to have the attention span of a nat, so I appreciate the investment of your time. I also hope that some of my thoughts will help keep a newer to the lifestyle person from having a bad experience while giving lifestyle veterans a pleasant reminder on safely getting to know others.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2021

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

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Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 3 Part 1

Hello all, here’s the first part of the third episode of Midnight Striga, a Fairy Tail/Owl House crossover fic! Everybody clap your hands!!

Luz’s head thunked against the table, heedless of King’s chuckles and Eda’s grimace.

“Aw, come on, kid.” Eda tried to console the embarrassed teen. “So some things slipped your mind after your big showdown. It’s not the end of the world!”

“I’m aware of that, Eda.” Luz’s muffled voice replied. As she lifted her head, she turned her tired gaze onto the Owl Lady. “But this is way more serious than me just spacing out.” Her serious look dropped away, replaced with a comical level of panic. “I can’t believe I dropped that Lacrima!! Who knows what kind of chaos that thing can cause!?”

“Easy, kid.” Eda raised her hands in a calming gesture, taken aback by how worried the kid was. She had never seen her get like this before. “What’s the big deal about that Lacrima thing anyway? I mean, I get that it boosts magical power and all, but aren’t you getting a little too bent out of shape over it?”

“BOOST MAGICAL-?!?” Luz started to shout, before taking a breath to calm down. “Lacrimas do WAY more than just boost magical power. Especially that one.” Her gaze turned morbid as she recalled that little chunk of crystal she had held, the power it represented.

Eda arched an eyebrow, puzzled. “Kid, I’m gonna need more than that.”

Luz sighed, but relented. “Okay, small history lesson, The Human Realm has magic, as you now know.” This got nods from Eda and King. “And with magic, comes monsters.” Another set of nods. “And among those monsters are those considered to be the pinnacle; Demons.” This brought the two up short. “I won’t get into the full story, but a while back, humanity crafted magic specifically designed to counter and battle inherently magical beings, of which Demons of our Realm very much qualify. To fight Demons in particular, Devil Slayer Magic was developed.”

Eda snorted, feeling uneasy. “Well, isn’t that a name.”

Luz cracked a grim smile. “It really is.” She grew serious. “But the magic itself is the real deal. Devil Slayer Magic, like all of the lethal arts, breaks down the inherent defenses of those it is meant to kill, and fundamentally weakens them as well. Anyone who wields the magic is essentially an Anti-Demon; the presence of a Devil Slayer actively weakens, and can even harm, Demons of all types and forms, making them easier to kill.”

Eda placed her chin in her hands, a dark light burning in her gaze, while King nervously sweated next to her. “I’m assuming the magic was made for a legitimate reason, so I’m not gonna say anything about the fact that it was created specifically to kill Demons, but what does this have to do with that Lacrima?”

Luz chuckled, an ugly sound. “I’m a little surprised you haven’t pieced it together yet. Lacrimas are crystalized magic, remember?”

Eda’s eyes widened, the implications hitting her, King openly whimpering beside her. “Now hold on kid, are you saying that that was a Devil Slayer Lacrima!?”

Luz snapped her fingers in Eda’s direction. “Bingo, right on the money.”

“So, what you’re saying is, there is a chunk of Demon Killing Magic loose in Bonesburough!?” Eda sounded a little panicked at the moment.

Luz shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Well nothing we can do about that.” Eda said, all the urgency gone. Luz face planted the table in response.

Luz turned her head towards Eda. “How are you not worried!? I just said that an extremely dangerous form of magic was loose in the town!!”

“Yeah, but it’s been Four Days, kid.” Eda stated logically. “There is no way we’ll be able to track it after all this time.” Luz bit her lip, but didn’t argue, the Witch was right.

With a sigh, Luz sunk deeper into her chair, sullen. “Well, if we’re not gonna track down the Lacrima, what are we gonna do?”

Eda grinned. “Well, I’m gonna introduce you to one of the most intrinsic aspects of my business!” The way King went still at those words told Luz all she would need to know on the subject, as did Hooty’s surprisingly mocking laughter.

‘Still,’ Luz thought. ‘What’s the worst that Lacrima could’ve gotten up to in just four days?’

Unbeknownst to her, across Town, a young Demon crashed painfully against a wall, staring down a three-eyed Witch glaring at them hatefully. As they tried to crawl away, the Witch painfully stomped on their leg, eliciting a painful cracking sound. Seeing the Demon react, the Witch smirked, and dug her heel deeper into the limb.

“Boscha, cut it out!” The worried cry of her friend drew Boscha’s gaze from the Demon lying before her, the red fading from her eyes.

Walking over to her follower (Friend), Boscha casually asked. “Yeah Skar?”

Skara gave Boscha a reproachful look, much to the stunned disbelief of the rest of their clique. “I don’t know what’s been up with you since you lost that fight the other day,” All of the girls braced for Boscha’s retaliation to Skara’s comment, only to marvel as Boscha didn’t even blink at the reminder. Seeing as she wasn’t going to be beaten bloody, Skara continued. “But that’s no reason to start jumping every demon you meet in the streets!” Skara spread her arms wide, indicating that, yes, Boscha had indeed ruthlessly beat and left whimpering multiple demons, all lying in the street. Skara, feeling bold, got in close. “What’s up with you?”

“I need to get stronger, and they make good ways to test myself.” Boscha blandly responded, as if she was just talking about the weather. The fact that one of the demons she ‘tested herself’ against was lying on his back, struggling to breath from the damage done to his chest from her attacks didn’t even phase her. The sheer casualness of it chilled the group, unused to even this level of ruthlessness from their effective leader, at least not without some genuine spite and anger behind it. The sheer detachment from her emotions was jarring.

Skara shivered, lightly rubbing her arm. “W-well, let’s just get to class, okay? We’re gonna be late, you know?” With her piece said, Skara rapidly walked in the direction of their school, the rest of the clique following her. Boscha blinked, puzzled at their reactions. Was it something she said? Shrugging, Boscha slipped her hands in her pockets, strolling along after them, utterly oblivious to the death grip she held on the gem currently stashed in her pocket.

Kill...Demons...Kill...Every...Last...One

Back with Luz, she was currently staring at the sight of Eda, proudly standing before a massive, rotting slug corpse alongside the beach. Luz’s eye was twitching at the sight. This was… certainly something alright.

“Isn’t it glorious Luz?” Eda asked. Luz blinked, about to answer with a sarcastic quip, when it kicked in that Eda was serious. “These babies travel the Boiling Sea, growing larger, gorging on all they can, including valuable, resellable, junk from the Human Realm, before they eventually croak and wash up on these shores!!” She turned a beaming grin the Human’s way, clearly expecting her to be impressed. Luz was not impressed in the slightest.

Luz sighed, slowly dragging her hand down her face. “You dragged me out here to help you dissect and harvest this thing, didn’t you?”

“Got it in one, Kid!” Eda cheerfully admitted. “What can I say, you’re labor, you’re here, and we’ve got a lot of corpse to dismantle!”

With a groan of annoyance, Luz brought her hands together, a spell forming. “Light-Make: Workers.” she intoned. Shimmering into existence were two incredibly blank looking humanoids, who instantly set to work; the first grabbed the tools Eda had on hand and started going at the corpse of the trash slug, while the second plucked King out of the way, and started sorting the numerous goods and trash into piles. With a blank look, Luz turned to a dumbfounded Eda. “There, I officially eliminated two-thirds to three-quarters of your workload. If you need me, I’m gonna get a better look in town, maybe get a lead on the Lacrima. Peace!” With a backwards wave, Luz took off, while Eda marveled at the complexity of the spell before her.

“Dang, that kid really knows what she’s doing!” Eda mused. “These things are seriously sophisticated; I was never as in to the technical know-how for things like this as others, but even I can recognize the level of planning that went into designing these. And that kid just whips them up on the fly! HA!” Eda crowed, enjoying the pleasure of knowing she had gained access to something like this over anyone else on the Isles.

“So these things will follow any order?” King piped up, looking intrigued.

“Hmm… not ever order, but anything simple.” Eda stated after a moment of thought. “These things, from what I can tell, are meant to be simple labor; they can handle uncomplicated tasks well, but anything that needs real thinking is beyond them. They’ll keep going until they run out of magic, and any time they complete a task they’ll stand by to receive another.” Eda nodded to herself; she wasn’t kidding when she said these were good, any Abominationist worth their salt would sell their family’s entire wealth to spend even a minute studying one of these.

“So, what your saying is, we’ve got a pair of super-minions that’ll do all the boring work so we can kick back and relax!?” King demanded, ecstatic at the very thought.

As Eda opened her mouth to refute this, she paused, considering. As what had already occurred to King fully dawned on her, a wide, devious grin stretched itself across her face. The duo cheered, birds flying off in the distance at the volume.

Luz whistled along, carefully scanning her environment for anything out of the ordinary. As she wandered along, she idly noted how beautiful the place was, deadly wildlife and callous view of harm and death notwithstanding, and Luz could honestly say that, if things were different, she could easily see herself living here. Still, she had a mission, and absolutely nothing could distract-

“You can do it!”

Who the what now? Luz’s gaze turned to the source of the voice. Peering through the bushes, she witnessed the sight of a truly adorable Witchling giving herself a pep-talk. “You got this! It doesn’t matter if you do poorly in terms of grades. My parents are right, I’ll have better opportunities on this track.” As the girl kept cheering herself on, she accidentally stepped on a plant, yelping in distress as she noticed. “Oh, I’m sorry little friend!” With a hum, the girl quickly whipped up a spell that perked the damaged flower back to normal; Luz was impressed, the efficiency in that spell was something she hadn’t thought Witches on the Isles were actually capable of. As the girl celebrated, Luz spotted another girl coming along the path, the cart carrying her hauling a truly massive pot. As the new girl approached, she bumped into the first Witch’s own, much smaller cart, sending it sprawling across the ground. Luz frowned at the sight.

The new girl glanced down, slight surprise lighting behind her eyes as she tore them from her book. At first, Luz thought she would apologize; the next words out of her mouth killed any hope of that. “Oh, sorry Willow. I didn’t notice your cart. It was so small and pathetic I must have missed it, sort of like you actually.” Ordinarily, that kind of cruel callousness would’ve set Luz off to some degree, but the words lacked the genuine edge of malice that Luz often found in such statements.

“Amity.” The now-named Willow seemed to physically deflate. It was practically heartbreaking to see her look so small, so fast. “What do you want?”

“Oh my, can’t I check on a fellow classmate?” Amity said, a coy grin on her face. “I do hope you’ve got your Abomination ready for the presentation.” Abomination? Luz figured it must have been some aspect of the Isles’ magic she hadn’t seen yet. With a twirl of her finger, the kid named Amity called up a colossal humanoid composed of some purple-colored sludge and muck. With a hesitant twirl of her own finger, Willow called her own Abomination out of the much smaller pot beside her; it was pathetic, small, malformed, essentially nothing but a head. Every bit of Luz’s instincts and pride as a Construct Specialist cringed in pain at the sight of Willow’s Abomination.

Amity tisked at the sight. “Ooh, I don’t think that’s gonna cut it. Not like mine at any rate.” She gestured to her Abomination, which proceeded to march forward, stomping on Willow’s, and standing before the timid girl.

“You-Are-A-Star.” The thing gurgled out, apparently capable of VERY limited intellect. It then moved to slowly drag its finger across Willow’s forehead, leaving the image of a purple star behind.

“Oh, how sweet!” Amity cooed with faux-sincerity. “It’s just like mine.” She gestured to a gold spot on her uniform, some kind of badge, Luz guessed. “But smaller, and meaningless.” With that last bit said, she had her construct haul her onto her cart before returning it to its vessel. “See you in class, superstar.”

“‘See you in class, superstar.’” Willow spitefully mimicked. “Oh, I HATE it when Amity taunts me like that.” She growled, the ground shuddering. “I hate making Abominations.” The rumbling increased. “I hate getting bad grades!” Thorns started poking out from beneath her feet. “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANY MORE!!!” With a scream of rage, eyes burning a vibrant green, colossal vines ripped out from the ground, lashing out in all directions. Before Luz could even blink, the vines whipped over to her hiding spot, hauling her into the air. While they were biting a bit into her skin, it was more irritating than harmful, other than the height she was being dangled from at any rate.

Deciding to cut this off before she reached a point of being in actual danger, Luz called out to the girl. “Hey, you mind letting me down!?”

As the girl’s still fiercely glowing eyes whipped over to her, Luz briefly contemplated the idea of having made a mistake, only to internally sigh in relief as the glow faded, embarrassed shock crawling across the Witchling’s face. “Oh my Titan, I am SO sorry for that!” She quickly withdrew the vines, smoothly lowering Luz to the ground, much to her admiring thanks. “I can’t believe I lost control like that. Oh! Where are my manners. My name’s-”

“Willow, I heard.” Luz chuckled. “Speaking of names, mine’s Luz.” With that said, she held out her hand, open for a shake.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king the owl house #willow park #amity blight #boscha the owl house #skara the owl house #magic

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spn-safeandsound · 4 years

Text

07. Dynamic Duo

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x11; Scarecrow

Word Count: 9,028

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: Enjoy!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

Julia sat in the middle of a large field on an overcast day. It was filled with three different kinds of flowers—honeysuckle, marigold, and violets—all separated into different sections. The white, yellow, and purple flowers formed a circle around her. They reminded her of her mother.

Naomi Petersen had always been a fan of giving her daughters flowers for every holiday and birthday. There were even some days that flowers would randomly be delivered to Julia, Abby, and Beth without a reason other than for their mother to show her love. The three girls would make a game of it, looking up the meanings into the flowers Naomi sent them that day.

Honeysuckle meant bonds of love. Marigold meant despair or grief. Violets meant loyalty and faithfulness.

"Julia Ruth."

Julia looked away from the violets to her right and looked forward to where she heard the man's voice. There was no one in the field with her but the sun had started to shine. It didn't matter that there was no one there, though. She recognized the voice.

"It's you," she breathed, her lips quirking into a small smile. "It's been a long time."

Many times, while Julia was growing up, she'd have dreams like this. She wouldn't always be a field—a few times she had been in an empty classroom at Stanford or on a swing in an abandoned park—but they all had the same voice visiting her to give her guidance.

When she asked her mom about the dreams, Naomi had simply smiled and told her that he was her guardian angel.

"Eight months, five days, and thirty minutes," her angel answered.

The last time he had shown up, she was thinking about transferring to Northwestern to be closer to Beth and Levi. Her angel talked her out of it and she hadn't regretted that choice so far.

"What's wrong? You only show up when I need your guidance."

"Then you should know why I am here."

"Okay, so I need guidance," Julia assumed. "About what?"

"I cannot say much," her angel told her. "Just know that you will soon be facing some trials and tribulations, Julia Ruth."

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean? What trouble am I facing?"

"Trouble that will test your faith."

Julia scoffed, more confused. She was a faithful person and it took a lot for that to waiver. Even when her mother was dying, she still had faith in God and his angels. Her mother had always told her that having faith wasn't always about the good and happy times but the tough times, too.

"That really cleared it up for me. Thanks."

"Stay true to your faith, Julia Ruth," her angel ordered. "We will meet again soon."

A ringing started blare around the field, making her look around in confusion. Where was that coming from?

The sunlight had started to fade and she stood up.

"Wait!" she called to her angel over the ringing. "Wait—"

Julia groaned as Dean's phone continued to ring, rolling off of her stomach to lay on her side facing Sam. The thing seemed so loud, like Dean had purposefully turned it on full volume just to annoy her.

The phone rang again.

"Phone!" she moaned, squeezing her eyes and burying her face in her pillow.

"Dean."

Julia opened her eyes, about to pick up the phone and whip it at Dean's peaceful face, when Sam wearily grabbed it off the table in between the beds. He flipped it open, his eyes still shut, and lazily pressed it to his ear.

"Hello?" there was a pause as whoever was calling Dean spoke; Sam sat up in shock, suddenly awake. "Dad? Are you hurt?"

Julia's eyes widened in surprise and she sat up as well, making sure her tank-top fully covered her breasts.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," Sam told his father, glancing over at a stirring Dean. "We didn't know where you were or if you were okay."

Julia studied Sam's face, taking in his eager expression. She was glad that John had called; it had been months—or in Sam's case, years—since the brothers heard from him. They had been so worried.

"Well, we're fine," Sam stated. "Dad, where are you?"

Dean sat up, fully awake, his blanket falling down to his hips to reveal his bare chest.

"What? Why not?" Sam questioned John.

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked Sam. Julia leaned around Sam so he could see her and nodded, silently answering his question. His face lit up.

Sam's face fell in realization at whatever John said. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom...A demon? You know for sure?"

Julia raised her eyebrows at Sam as Dean pulled on the shirt he discarded before falling asleep. So, it was a demon who killed Mary and Jess...she wondered how John figured that out.

"A demon?" Dean leaned forward anxiously. "What's he saying?"

"You know where it is?" Sam said into the phone. "Let us help...Why not?"

Dean reached toward Sam expectantly, irritated with his lack of answers. "Give me the phone."

"Names? What names, Dad?" Sam's face contorted in aggravation. "Talk to me, tell me what's going on?"

Julia bit her lip and clasped her hands together tightly as Sam stiffened, his anger growing as John continued speaking.

"No," he said firmly. "All right? No way."

"Give me the phone!" Dean raised his voice at him. When Sam angrily pursed his lips, looking like he was about to blow a gasket, Dean grabbed the phone away from him. "Dad, it's me. Where are you?"

Julia grabbed Sam's clenched fists as John answered Dean, rubbing her thumb against the back of one of them to calm him down. He always got so angry with his dad; it had been that way for most of his life.

"Yes, sir," Dean agreed to whatever John said, swallowing harshly; he reached for the pen on the nightstand. "Uh-huh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?"

"So, where are you now?" Julia's older sister, Abby, asked through the phone.

"Uh, hold on," Julia leaned forward to look at Dean, who was shockingly sitting in the passenger seat. "Dean, where are we headed again?"

"Some town in Indiana," Dean grumbled back absentmindedly, tapping on the keyboard of Sam's computer to continue his research into the names John had given him.

"We're on our way to Indiana," Julia reported back to her sister.

"Oh, yeah? For what?"

"We have no idea yet," she sighed. "What about you?"

"I'm in Point Pleasant, Virginia," Abby informed her.

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "Isn't that the town that obsessed with Mothman?"

Abby laughed. "You bet it is."

"What the hell are you doing there?"

"Hunting Mothman."

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"No, you're not, Abby. Be serious."

"I'm completely serious, Jules," Abby stated. "I saw it with my own two eyes."

Julia was silent for a few seconds and then, "Are you fucking kidding me?" she almost screeched. "You're legitimately hunting Mothman?"

That caught Dean's attention; he turned around with wide eyes. "Abby's hunting Mothman?"

Julia nodded. "She's hunting Mothman."

"How the fuck did she know that he's actually real?"

"Dean wants to know how you found out he's real," Julia told Abby.

"I went to Point Pleasant because I saw some reports about hearts being missing from some of the recent murders taking place," Abby explained. "I thought it was a werewolf but then I realized that the cycle isn't right."

"Uh-huh," Julia hummed and Dean gave her an expectant look; she held up her index finger. "Go on."

"So, I checked it out, anyway, just in case," Abby continued. "And apparently, one of the newest tours they're giving is telling their customers that Mothman eats hearts."

"Well, how would they know that?"

"They don't, that's my point," Abby said. "Someone messed around and created a Tulpa."

"What's a Tulpa?"

"It's a physical materialization of a thought," Dean told her at the same time as Abby, looking ecstatic. Even Sam stopped his bitch face for a few seconds to look impressed. "Wow, I can't believe she's hunting a Tulpa of Mothman. Tell her to take a picture."

"Dean wants you to take a picture," Julia told her sister, rolling her eyes at him.

Abby laughed. "I'll try my best."

"Be careful, okay?" Julia told her as Dean turned back around to focus on his research again. "Love you."

"You too," Abby echoed her affections. "Talk to ya later."

Julia hummed and hung up her phone, tossing it onto the seat next to her.

"Some people have all the luck," Dean muttered, completely dismayed that they were heading to Indiana instead of Virginia to kill Mothman.

"Well, it's not really Mothman if it's just a Tulpa," Sam pointed out.

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam sighed. "All right," he changed the subject, his jaw clenched. "the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?"

Dean nodded. "Three different couples. All of them went missing."

"And they're all from different towns, different states?"

"That's right," Dean confirmed for him. "Washington, New York, Colorado...Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination and none of them were ever heard from again."

"The continental US is huge, though," Julia reminded him. "I mean, what if they just changed their destination?"

"Maybe but each one's route took them to the same part of Indiana," Dean informed her. "Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

"This is the second week of April."

Dean nodded at his brother. "Yep."

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"

"Yahtzee," Dean confirmed. "Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different orbits Dad had to go through? The man's a master."

Sam pursed his lips, looking severely annoyed, and pressed on the breaks. He veered toward the shoulder of the road, making Dean give him a confused look.

"What are you doing?"

"We're not going to Indiana," Sam declared.

"We're not?"

"No," Sam turned off the engine. "We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone with a Sacramento area code."

Oh, no, Julia thought. A fight was bound to break out now. Sam hated following John's orders, especially when it had something to do with the thing that killed Mary and Jess—a demon, she reminded herself—and Dean always followed his orders. It had been the cause of many arguments before and it would cause more in the future.

"Sam—"

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be here," Sam cut him off. "We've gotta help."

"Dad doesn't want out help," Dean stated.

Sam turned to face him, retorting, "I don't care."

"He's given us an order."

"I don't care," Sam emphasized slowly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives," Dean reminded his brother, his voice and eyes hardening. "It's important."

"All right, I understand. Believe me, I understand," Sam tried to change his mind. "But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."

"All right, look, I know how you feel—"

"Do you?" Sam retorted; Dean gave him a shocked look and Julia's eyes widened. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the fuck would you know how I feel?"

Julia gaped at him, surprised that Sam would say anything like that. "Sam!"

"Dad said it wasn't safe for any of us!" Dean raised his voice back. "I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away."

Sam scoffed. "I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man," he shook his head. "I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good fucking son!"

"Dean!"

God, both of them were idiots.

Sam took the keys out of the starter and opened his door, sliding out of the car. He went straight to the trunk and opened it, grabbing his bags. Julia and Dean both got out of the car at the same time for different reasons—Dean wanted to argue and Julia wanted to stop Sam before he started hitchhiking to California.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that?" Dean cursed at his brother. "You just do whatever you want. You don't care what anybody thinks."

Sam shrugged on his backpack, glaring at him. "That's what you really think?"

"Yes, it is."

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California," Sam grabbed his duffel bag and slammed the trunk shut.

"Sam, no, you can't leave," Julia protested, lunging forward to grab his arm as he started walking away; he shrugged out of her hold. "Sam, come on."

Dean scoffed in disbelief as Sam ignored her, continuing to walk away. "You're not serious."

"I am serious."

"Sam, it's the middle of the night!" Julia's eyes started stinging as she watched her best friend walk away from them.

He didn't respond.

"Hey, I'm taking off," Dean warned him loudly. "I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

Sam turned around, clenching his jaw, to answer, "That's what I want you to do."

Dean was quiet for a few seconds and Julia was hoping he'd just apologize so Sam would get back in the car, but he shook his head. "Goodbye, Sam."

"Dean—"

"Get in the fucking car, Julia," Dean snapped at her, pulling the keys from the trunk's lock and walking around to the driver's side. "Let's go."

Julia bit her lip and looked back at Sam with wet eyes, meeting his gaze. He just nodded at the car, knowing that she didn't want to choose. It wasn't like this was going to be forever, anyway—it was just until he found his dad.

"Julia!"

Julia jumped at Dean's exclamation and gave Sam a sad smile before opening her door and sliding back into her seat. He started up the engine as soon as her door closed and pressed harshly on the gas, propelling them forward. Julia didn't look back at Sam; she never walked away from him before and the guilt threatened to swallow her.

Burkittsville, Indiana was of the smallest towns Julia had ever seen. It consisted of maybe four or five roads with one restaurant, one general store, and one gas station. She didn't know that if the main part of town was always this dead, but she hoped it was the rain and not their everyday life. There was not a single person in sight.

Dean parked at the side of the road—it was actually more of a paved trail more than anything—and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Julia eyed him hesitantly, watching as he opened the phone and scrolled through his contacts until he stopped at Sam's name.

He hesitated for a second, his thumb hovering over the call button, and then flipped the phone shut.

"You should call him."

In the hours since they had driven away from Sam, Dean had calmed down considerably. In fact, Julia thought that he wasn't mad at all now. He had apologized for yelling at her only thirty minutes after they took off and she could feel the regret coming off of him in waves. She figured that it had more to do with Sam than it had to do with him raising his voice at her.

Dean's green eyes flicked up to hers as he pursed his lips. He shut off the engine and pulled the keys from the starter. "I'm not gonna call him," he stated before getting out of the car. "Let's go."

Julia slid out of the passenger seat and followed him down the sidewalk to the main road, thankful that she had dressed in a navy windbreaker to ward off the rain and slight breeze. "Why don't you wanna call him?"

"I don't wanna talk about it, Junior."

Julia glanced at a lady who passed by them with an umbrella, glad that someone actually lived in this town, and then back at him. "Dean."

"Can you just drop it for now?" Dean gave her a firm yet almost-pleading look. "I wanna ask this guy about the people who disappeared."

He pointed to the restaurant they were walking toward; she followed his gaze, spotting an old man sitting outside of a cute little place called Scotty's Café.

"Fine, okay."

They continued walking toward the café, coming to a stop a few feet from where the man was sitting.

"Let me guess," Dean greeted, looking down at the sour-looking man. "Scotty."

Scotty nodded, not looking happy about the fact that they stopped to talk to him.

"Hi, my name's John Bonham and this is—"

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty interrupted his introduction.

Dean looked taken aback by the man's knowledge—as if Zeppelin wasn't a popular band or something. "Wow," he muttered. "Classic rock fan."

Julia pressed her lips together and turned back to Scotty. "I'm Lyla Johnson," she made up a random name, hoping that there wasn't some old celebrity who used to be popular that she didn't know about. "Nice to meet you."

Scotty didn't look impressed with either of them—this time Julia was taken aback. Usually almost every man she smiled at melted at the sight of her. "What can I do for you, Lyla?"

Julia looked at Dean, stumped, and his mouth straightened slightly into a grimace. He pulled out the pictures they had printed of the last victims, Vince and Holly Parker.

"We were wondering if you'd seen these people by chance," he unfolded the papers and gave them to Scotty so he could take a look.

"Nope," Scotty hardly looked at the photos. "Who are they?"

"Vince and Holly Parker," Julia said flatly; the names were the largest things written on the damn pictures. "They're friends of ours. They went missing last year and they passed through somewhere around here."

"We've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"

"Sorry," Scotty handed the papers back to Dean. Julia scowled down at him—if this guy interrupts us one more time... "We don't get many strangers around here."

Did Scotty know how suspicious he came off as right now? He might as well have a neon sign above his head proclaiming that he killed the couple himself. His answers were too avoidant and rehearsed.

Julia just did not like his vibe.

"Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room," Dean stated almost mockingly. "Anybody ever tell you that?"

Scotty's frown never left his stupid face.

"Never mind," Dean chuckled at his own sarcasm. "We'll see you around."

They walked away from the café, heading down the street toward Jorgeson Motors and Jorgeson General Store, which happened to be the town's only store and gas pump. Usually small towns were cute but this one made Julia want to curl up into a ball and cry her eyes out. She would be so bored if she lived here.

"I never want to see that man again," she muttered to Dean, shuddering dramatically.

"If I ever get as grumpy as that old bastard, I want you to shoot me," he agreed with her. "and he definitely knew something."

"Oh, I know," Julia rolled her eyes. "He had the strangest energy, too."

"Like what?"

"It's hard to explain, but," her nose wrinkled as she tried to find words that would make sense. "Okay, you know how Dumbledore's all about the greater good and all that?"

Dean nodded and hummed.

"But he doesn't really care about Harry's well-being as long as he's there to save the wizarding world," she continued. "That's the vibe I got from Scotty."

"Like that little fuckwad from Shrek," Dean understood and quoted the animated movie, "Some of you will die but that's the risk I'm willing to take."

"Yes!" she tapped him excitedly on the arm. "Wow, I can't believe you've seen Shrek!"

"It was on one night while I couldn't sleep," Dean explained as they approached the store; he pulled open the door and stepped back, letting her in before him. "It really shouldn't have been marketed for kids."

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

"Hi, there!" they were instantly greeted by a chipper older woman that was bundled up in a cozy cardigan. "I'm Stacy, what can I do for you folks?"

"Oh, we were just stopping by for a few minutes to stretch our legs," Dean told her as he snaked an arm around Julia's waist, surprising her. "We're on our honeymoon."

Julia looked at him in shock but changed her expression as Stacy cooed at them. "Oh, how wonderful!"

"Yeah," Julia smiled sweetly at her and grabbed the hand that Dean had resting on her upper hip, pinching him subtly. "We're so in love."

Dean rolled his eyes at her awkwardness and Stacy's smile faltered only a little bit.

"Well," her smile widened again. "Why don't you two take some apple pie for your trip? It's on the house."

Dean was very, very tempted by the offer for pie but he had to focus. Especially if Julia was going to act like an idiot who had never been in a relationship before.

"Actually," he pulled out the photos of Vince and Holly Parker, showing them to her. "we were wondering if you've seen our friends lately. They went missing about a year ago and we know they went through here..."

Stacy's smile instantly slipped from her face. A man walked out of the back room, then, slipped around the counter to see what was going on.

"What about who?" he asked curiously, though he seemed a little nervous.

"We're looking for some people," Dean handed him the photos. "Have you seen them?

The man studied the papers and shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Really?" Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow. Everyone they had seen so far were acting so suspicious and sweet old Stacy flipped her tune real quick. "You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?"

"Nope, don't remember them," the man confirmed. "You said they were friends of yours?"

"Best of friends," Julia nodded sweetly. At least her smile worked on him. "Holly and I grew up together."

A young blonde girl, around Julia's age, walked out from behind the counter carrying a stack of printed boxes. "Did the guy have a tattoo?"

"Yeah, he did."

The girl took the papers from the man. "Don't you remember, Uncle Harley?" she asked him. "They were just married."

"Oh, you're right, Emily," Harley suddenly remembered. "They did stop for gas. Weren't here for more than ten minutes."

God, these people needed acting coaches, Julia thought, how many people in this town are gonna cover for a couple of disappearances?

Clearly something was going on here and it wasn't just because the man all of a sudden remembered a couple just because his niece did. Julia got the same vibes from Harley and Stacy that she got from Scotty.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "You remember anything else?

"I told them how to get back on the interstate," Harley gave the papers back to Dean. "They left town."

"Can you point us in that same direction?" Dean wondered.

Harley nodded. "Sure."

Julia frowned at the apple orchard in front of them. It had to be the creepiest little orchard, ever—the apple trees looked like they came out of a Tim Burton movie, some of the grass was dead, and the only thing that had color in the whole area were the apples on the ground and in the trees. It wasn't even apple season, so how the trees had apples to begin with, she didn't know.

They were driving down the interstate in the direction that Harley sent them when all of the sudden, the EMF meter started lighting up and buzzing. It had come out of nowhere so Dean had pulled over. Of course, because she was that lucky, the EMF led them to the orchard.

If she could guess what was making the EMF go off, it'd be the creepy ass scarecrow propped up in the middle of the orchard.

"What crows eat apples?" she muttered as she and Dean slowly walked toward the scarecrow. "Apples aren't even in season, Dean."

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered bitterly as he looked up at the scarecrow. None of the pieces of apple pie he had recently were very good. Fall was the peak apple pie season. "Dude, you are fucking ugly."

Julia rolled her eyes and blanched when she saw that the scarecrow had a scythe in its hand. "Why the hell would a scarecrow be armed with that?"

Dean hummed, his eyes searching the scarecrow up and down. He paused a little when he spotted something that looked familiar on the arm with the scythe. He turned to the ladder next to the closest apple tree and picked it up, bringing it back over to the scarecrow.

Julia grimaced as he climbed the ladder, hoping that the thing wouldn't suddenly come alive and slice his head off. That would be horrific for everyone involved.

Dean reached toward the arm he wanted to get a closer look at and pulled by the sleeve. "You see that?" he asked Julia, nodding at the tattoo on the scarecrow's arm. "It's the tattoo."

Julia stood on her tip toes to get a better look. "The same tattoo as Vince Parker."

Dean pursed his lips and crawled down the ladder. "The very one."

They got into the Impala and drove back to Burkittsville, deciding that they needed to question the girl that seemed to be the only one who was telling the truth in the whole town.

"Okay, so, a couple goes missing every year around the same time like clockwork in the same place," Julia hummed, resting her head against the passenger window. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Dean nodded. "Human sacrifice."

"Yep," Julia sighed and lifted her head to look at him. "So, I'm thinking a Pagan or Norse god."

Dean glanced at her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "I thought you didn't believe in that stuff?"

"I believe that different types of gods exist," Julia shrugged. "I'd be ignorant not to, especially when my dad has had run-ins with a couple of them."

The most notable story she heard from her dad was the Trickster run-in, of course.

"But you're a Christian."

"Because I believe that my God is the main God," Julia explained. "With a capital 'G'. The one who rules over the universe."

"Hmm..." Dean nodded thoughtfully as they rolled back into the town limits. "So, you believe in Evolution?"

Julia laughed. "Yes, Dean, I believe in Evolution."

Dean sighed in relief. "Thank the lord you're not a kook."

She shook her head, smiling fondly. "Thanks, D. I appreciate it."

"No problem, shortcake."

There was a red SUV parked outside of Jorgeson Motors when they approached. Dean pulled off to the gas pump at the side of the road. To their immense luck, Emily was already outside the shop.

"You're back," she greeted them kindly as they got out of the Impala.

"Never left."

"You're still looking for your friends?" she buried her hands in her red hoodie.

Dean nodded as Julia leaned against the car. "You mind filling her up, there, Emily?" she nodded and grabbed the hose from the pump, inserting it into the tank. "So, you grow up here?"

"I came here when I was thirteen," Emily told them. "I lost my parents to a car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Julia gave her a sympathetic smile; Emily gave her a grateful look. "Your aunt and uncle were nice."

Well, they were until they mentioned the missing people, anyway.

"Everybody's nice here."

"So, what, it's the perfect little town?" Dean asked skeptically.

Emily didn't catch his tone. "Well, you know, it's the boonies," she shrugged. "but I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here? It's almost like we're blessed."

Julia raised her eyebrows. Blessed. Ripe apples in early spring, a scarecrow, a couple sacrificed every year, and a town that seemed to flourish in a recession? Something tugged on the back of her mind but she couldn't remember what the exact information was.

"Hey, have you been out to the orchard?" Dean asked her suddenly; Emily nodded. "You seen the scarecrow?"

Emily scoffed softly. "Yeah, it creeps me out."

"I thought I was the only one," Julia chuckled in comradery. "Do you know who owns it?"

"I have no idea," Emily shrugged. "It's just always been there."

Julia nodded in understanding as Emily took the hose from the tank and put it back in the pump.

"Is that your aunt and uncles?" Dean gestured to the red SUV with his head.

Emily shook her head. "A customer's," she corrected him. "had some car troubles."

"It's not a couple, is it?" Dean asked hurriedly. "A man and a woman?"

Emily nodded in confirmation.

"Are they around?" Dean hesitated before continuing, "eating at Scotty's, maybe?"

"It's the only restaurant in town," Emily told them like it wasn't obvious. "Famous for their apple pie."

They paid for the gas and thanked Emily for her help before making an excuse to stop into Scotty's Café. The couple were the only people in the café when they arrived, besides Scotty, who was serving them two plates of warm apple pie.

"Hey, Scotty," Dean greeted the older man like a friend—if that friend was a guy who was most likely sacrificing a couple each year for some god. "can we get a black coffee and a sweet tea?"

Scotty gave them an unhappy look as they walked over to one of the empty tables next to the couple.

"Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it?" Dean called to Scotty before he could disappear into the kitchen. If it was any other server than Scotty, Julia would have scolded him for being so rude.

Julia nudged him in the back, silently urging him to sit down. She took the chair facing with the back facing the kitchen and Dean took the seat to her left.

"How ya doing?" he greeted the couple casually. "Just passing through?"

The woman nodded enthusiastically. "Road trip."

"Yeah, us, too," Dean hummed.

Scotty emerged from the kitchen with a pitcher of cider. He walked over to the couple's table and refilled their glasses. When he finished, he gave Dean a stern look. "I'm sure these people want to eat in peace."

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean said innocently while Julia narrowed her eyes into a glare. "Oh, and that coffee and tea, too, man. Thanks."

"So," Julia spoke up, flashing the couple a smile in an attempt to counter Dean's enthusiasm. "what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas," the woman told her. "The guy at the gas station saved our lives."

She raised a curious eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking," the guy stated. "We had no idea. He's fixing it for us now."

"Nice people," Dean cocked his head suspiciously; the man nodded. "So, how long until you're up and running?"

"Sundown."

"Really? To fix a break line?" the man nodded at Dean's question. "Well, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything."

The man wrinkled his nose and turned to his wife for help. The woman fixed Dean with a polite, if not a little standoffish, smile. "You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it."

"Sure," Dean smiled slightly in agreement and paused, leaning in a little toward their table. "You know, it's just that these roads, they're not real safe at night."

"I'm sorry?"

Julia got the sense that they were creeped out now. "He means any roads at night," she rolled her eyes in amusement and sent them a friendly smile. "He's a bit of a safety nerd. Hazards of being a traffic cop, right, babe?"

She was getting a little better at this couple talk, Dean admitted to himself, a lot less awkward than before. He backed off of the couple at her pointed glare and straightened in his seat. When he saw that the couple had gone back to eating and not looking at him like he was a weirdo, he sighed.

"You and Sam gotta teach me that puppy-eyed look," he grumbled, picking up a sugar packet from the middle of the table.

"You wouldn't be able to master it," she told him quietly, her lips pulled up into a smug smile. "It's the brown eyes and dimples. You stick to that charming smile, huh?"

Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her.

"Thanks for coming, Sheriff," Scotty spoke loudly from the counter as the door to the café opened. A man, who Julia guessed was the town's only police officer, walked into the restaurant. He crossed the room and spoke quietly with the man.

Julia and Dean shared a look as the sheriff walked over to their table.

"I'd like a word, please," the man requested stiffly.

"Actually, we were just leaving," Julia stood up and pushed her chair in; Dean followed her lead, glaring at the man. "So, unless you have probable cause to detain us legally, we'd like to get out of town before dark."

The sheriff's face hardened considerably but Julia and Dean walked past him and out of the restaurant. As they drove out of town, he tailed them to make sure they wouldn't come back.

Dean looked in the rear view, where he could still see the cruiser, and chuckled quietly.

"What?" Julia asked him curiously.

"That was badass back there," he told her. "How'd you know all that?"

"Beth's a lawyer remember?" she reminded him. "I used to help her study for her finals."

"So, you know all that legal bullshit?"

"Not all of it but, yeah," she shrugged. "I know some."

"Not gonna lie, Jules, that's kinda sexy."

Julia sighed in amusement when he smirked at her. "Oh, Dean...what are we gonna do with you?"

"Have you found anything yet?" Dean groaned from his bed, lazily turning his head toward the table where Julia sat with her laptop, researching Pagan gods.

After the sheriff stopped following them out of town, they waited at the orchard for the couple they met at the restaurant. Both of them had a pretty good idea that their car was gonna break down right around there and they would be the god's yearly dinner. They happened to be right; a half-hour after the sun set, they spotted the red SUV come to a stop at the side of the road in front of the orchard.

After saving the couple, they drove them to the nearest town, Scottsburg, and told them to make sure that they stayed out of Burkittsville. The couple and Julia and Dean got rooms at the same motel and in the morning, Dean went back to the orchard with the man and fixed up their SUV so they could get the hell out of dodge.

So, now Julia was stuck in the room with a miserable Dean, researching different fertility gods that could be animating the scarecrow.

"Maybe if you helped me..." she hinted flatly.

"That's not how this works, shortcake," Dean sighed, rolling onto his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed. "I'm the muscles, you're the brain."

"What's Sam, then?"

"When Sam was with us you were the beauty and he was the brains," Dean answered simply, his green eyes dimming at the mention of his brother. "You wanna watch a movie? Let's watch a movie."

"Dean," Julia sighed as he turned on the television.

"Oh, look, Forrest Gump is on," Dean said to avoid the conversation he just knew she wanted to have. "You're a Tom Hanks fan, right?"

"Well, yeah, but—" she paused, not allowing herself to become distracted. "No, you're not gonna distract me."

"I'm not trying to distract you."

"Sure, you aren't."

"What do you want me to say?" Dean huffed, jumping off the bed to start pacing the length of the room. "That I was a jackass to my little brother? I already know that."

"I wasn't going to say that, Dean," Julia crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair.

Dean gave her a doubtful look. "What were you gonna say then?"

"I was gonna say that you're an idiot," Julia told him; when he sent her a glare, she continued, "but so is Sam. You guys have conflicting personalities so it's not a surprise that you guys rub elbows sometimes."

"That's what brothers do," he crossed the room, feeling a little better that she called Sam an idiot too, and sat in the chair across from her.

"I know that. I'm just saying...just because you fight doesn't mean that you'll never see him again," she smiled at him. "Even when we were at Stanford, Sam talked about you all the time. You do the same thing."

"I do not," Dean grumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink with embarrassment.

"Yeah, you do," she said matter-of-factly. "When we met up for your birthday last year you asked about him before you even said hi."

"Well, that's—"

"And then you asked me whether or not he was doing well in school," she smirked at him. "and you didn't want to go near my apartment because you didn't want to make Sam uncomfortable."

Dean pressed his lips firmly together, looking uncomfortable with what she was saying.

"And that's okay, Dean," she leaned forward and reached across the table, placing her hand on his right fist. "You raised Sam and with your dad gone right now, he's your only blood left."

The corners of his lips quirked, making the dimples above them pop out. "I miss him, okay?" he admitted. "And I feel like absolute shit for what I said to him."

"So, call him," Julia urged, taking her hand back and nodding at his phone he left on the table when they entered the room earlier that morning. "Tell him what's going on."

"How about you tell me what you found, first," Dean grinned crookedly. "and, then, I will give him a call."

"Okay," she instantly gave in. "So, I did some research about gods of fertility."

"As in...?"

"No," Julia denied quickly and moved on, "I mean like crop fertility and all that stuff. There's different gods in different cultures. In Norse mythology, there's Thor and Freyr, in Greek mythology it's Aphaea and Demeter, in Roman mythology it's Robigus."

"Okay, so that's why there's apples in spring," Dean guessed. "and why the town is still in business while everything around it dies."

"Exactly," Julia nodded. "and at the basis of fertility, whether it's agricultural or reproductive—"

"A sacrifice of a male and female," Dean finished for her. "So, you were right about Scotty. He's Farquaad."

"Yep," Julia typed into her computer, looking at the address of an ideology professor at a local college. "I emailed a local professor and asked him if he had time to answer some questions. We're meeting with him at two."

"Good work, shortcake. You're getting better at this," Dean tapped the table for emphasis. "Come on, we have time for lunch."

"And for you to call Sam," she reminded him, standing up to grab her Stanford crewneck to slip over her head.

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

After they stopped for lunch, they started heading toward the local community college located on the other side of Scottsburg. While driving, Dean called Sam and was surprised that he actually answered. He quickly gave him the rundown of what happened with the couple the night before, causing Sam to pause for a few seconds.

"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" he asked in shock.

"Yeah, I'm telling ya," Dean sighed, shaking his head. "Burkittsville, Indiana. Fun town."

"It didn't kill the couple, did it?"

"No, we can cope without you, you know," Dean shot the phone an annoyed look but Julia knew that he wasn't annoyed at all. She could tell by the gleam in his green eyes.

"So, something must be animating it," Sam said thoughtfully. "A spirit, maybe."

"We think it's more than that," Julia spoke up, glad that Dean put the call on speakerphone. "It might be a Pagan god."

"What makes you say that?"

"The annual cycle of the killings and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman—like some kind of fertility rite," Dean explained. "And you should see the locals and the way they treated this couple. They were fattening them up like a Christmas turkey."

"The last meal," Sam offered. "Given to sacrificial victims."

"We're thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan god."

"The god animates the scarecrow and the scarecrow takes its sacrifice," Julia stated. "For another year, the crops won't wilt and disease won't spread."

Sam hummed. "Do you know which god you're dealing with?"

"Not yet but I think I've narrowed it down a little," Julia sighed. "We have an appointment with a professor at a local community college."

"We wouldn't have to go if we had the brains of the team back," Dean hinted.

Sam caught it and laughed lightly. "You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask."

"I'm not hinting anything," Dean lied and then hesitated, looking over at Julia; she nodded encouragingly. "Actually, uh...I want you to know—I mean, I don't think that—"

"Yeah," Sam took mercy on Dean's inability to express his emotions outright. "I'm sorry, too."

"Sam, you were right," Dean admitted. "You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."

"Are you serious?" they could hear the surprise in his voice.

"You've always known what you want and you go for it," Dean said seriously. "You stand up to Dad and you always have. Hell, I wish...anyway, I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

Julia smiled and turned her head to look out the window, her eyes filling with tears. She was such a sap. She was one of those people who were cursed to cry when they were sad, happy, and angry. It made it hard to have a serious argument when you suddenly burst into tears—she knew that from experience.

Sam was kind of speechless at Dean's confession. "I don't even know what to you say."

"Say you'll take care of yourself."

"I will," Sam promised.

"Call us when you find Dad."

"Call us if you don't," Julia added, swallowing thickly to hide her tears.

Both Sam and Dean knew that she was crying. They all knew each other way too well.

"Okay," Sam said quietly, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Bye, Dean. Bye, J."

"It's not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology," Professor Jenkins stated as he led Julia and Dean to his office.

"Well, we're in our last semester at Stanford," Julia told him. "We're partnered on a thesis about how Christianity took over the trend of Pagan ideals and practices."

"But you said you were interested in local lore?" he gave her an interested look.

She nodded with a dimpled smile.

"Well, I'm afraid that Indiana isn't really know for its Pagan worship," Professor Jenkins said apologetically.

"Well, what if it was imported?" Dean spoke up. "You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Like the town near her, Burkittsville," Dean added. "Where are their ancestors from?"

Professor Jenkins pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Uh, northern Europe, I believe. Scandinavia."

"So, the Norse gods," Julia hummed.

"There are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses," Professor Jenkins confirmed.

"We're actually looking for one," Dean told him. "It might live in an orchard."

"Woods god, huh?" Professor Jenkins turned down a short hallway and opened one of the two doors. He let them into his office and walked right over to a large book on Pagan ideology that he took out ahead of their appointment. "Well, let's see."

Professor Jenkins leafed through the pages carefully. Dean stopped him when he saw a drawing of a scarecrow in the middle of a flourishing field. "Wait, wait, what's that one?"

"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se..."

Dean squinted as he read the title of the chapter. "The V-Vanir?" Professor Jenkins nodded and he read on, "The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male and one female..."

"Freyr is a Vanir," Julia supplied. "and so are Freya, Odin, and Thor..."

"Correct," Professor Jenkins confirmed.

"Do you know if Freyr took human sacrifices?" she asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I-I'm not sure."

Dean pointed to the Vanir on the page. "Looks like a scarecrow, doesn't it?"

"Well, I suppose," Professor Jenkins chuckled awkwardly.

Dean continued to read, "This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from the sacred tree."

"Well, Pagans believe all sorts of things were infused with magic."

"So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"

"Son, these are just legends we're discussing," Professor Jenkins laughed slightly. "I thought your thesis is on Pagan ideals and practices?"

"It is," Julia nodded with a grateful smile. "Professor Jenkins, thank you so much for your help."

Professor Jenkins shook the hand Dean was offering. "My pleasure."

The two of them went to leave the office. When Julia opened the door, the butt of a gun was forced against her forehead, instantly knocking her out.

When Julia came to, she was being tied to an apple tree.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned loudly, glaring up at Harley and Stacy, who were finishing up her ropes. "I am not about to be sacrificed when apples aren't even in season!"

"You don't have to worry about that for much longer," Stacy hushed her with a harsh glare.

"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" she heard Dean ask. She whipped her head to the right and saw that he was being tied to his own tree a couple feet away from her. "How much blood is on your hands?"

"We don't kill them," the sheriff defended him and his neighbors.

"Oh, and accessory to murder is so much better?" Julia scoffed, wincing as Stacy harshly tightened the ropes around her wrist. "Take it easy, grand—"

She was slapped before she could even finish her warning. "Son of a bitch!"

"You okay, Jules?" Dean called as Stacy and Harley backed away from her tree.

"I'm peachy, Dean."

"Good," he turned his attention back on the sheriff. "How many cars have you hidden or clothes you've buried?"

"That's none of your concern," the sheriff spat.

The four elders started walking away from their trees, toting their shotguns with them.

"I hope your apple pie is fucking worth it!" Dean shouted after them.

A half-hour passed as they were stuck there, the sun starting to set. There was still a little bit of light left in the sky when Emily appeared. She pressed her finger to her lips at the confused looks they gave her, telling them to be quiet as she carefully walked over to them.

She knelt in front of Dean, pulling a pair of scissors out of her sweater pocket.

"You didn't know anything about this, did you?" he asked her as she started sawing at the thick ropes wrapped around his wrists.

"The scarecrow god?" she scoffed quietly. "No. I overheard my aunt and uncle talk about it earlier. They said they were gonna use you guys as the sacrifices."

"Thanks for helping," Julia sighed gratefully as Dean pulled his wrists, snapping through the rest of the rope.

"What's the plan?" Emily asked her and Dean.

"We can destroy the scarecrow but we gotta find the tree."

"What tree?"

"It would be really old," Dean explained. "The locals would treat it with a lot of respect. You know, like it was sacred."

Emily thought for a few seconds before her eyes lit up in realization. "The First Tree."

"What's the First Tree?" Julia wondered as Dean ran over to her and started freeing her from her ropes.

"It was an apple tree that the immigrants brought over with them," Emily told her. "It's somewhere around here."

"Okay," Dean broke through Julia's ropes, helping her to her feet and gently brushing a thumb over her black eye. "We'll focus on that tomorrow. For now, we gotta get the fuck out of here."

The three of them paused when they heard footsteps coming their way.

"Oh, my God," Emily breathed fearfully, afraid that it was the scarecrow. "Oh, my God."

"Dean? Julia?"

"No, thank God," Julia corrected her with a sigh of relief as Sam walked around a couple of apple trees, appearing before them.

"Oh, I take everything back!" Dean exclaimed, grinning at his brother. "I'm so happy to see you."

"Sam, how'd you get here?" Julia grinned at him.

"I, uh—I stole a car," he admitted sheepishly.

Dean laughed. "Oh, that's my boy!"

"Guys," Emily spoke up worriedly. "Maybe we should get out of here."

"Keep a lookout for the scarecrow," Julia warned Sam. "It could come alive at any second."

Sam gave her a confused look. "What scarecrow?"

Dean rushed around the tree where Julia had been tied up, looking for the scarecrow. It wasn't on its post.

"Fuck," he cursed harshly before turning back to Sam, Julia, and Emily. "All right, let's get the hell out of here."

While they started running through the orchard, Dean told Sam how to kill the scarecrow and stop the sacrifices.

"All right," Sam breathed. "this sacred tree you're talking about—"

"It's the source of its power."

"So we find it and burn it," Sam stated casually.

"In the morning," Dean insisted. "Let's shag ass before Leatherface shows up."

The four of them turned into another row of apple trees and stopped in their tracks when they came face-to-face with Harley and Stacy.

"This way," Dean urged, moving to the left.

Behind him, Scotty cocked his shotgun. On the two other sides were the sheriff and Professor Jenkins, both with large guns aimed at them. A soft growling approached them, causing Emily and Julia to back into Dean and Sam.

"Please, let them go," Emily begged her aunt and uncle.

"It'll be over quickly," Harley assured her. "Emily, you have to let it take them. You have to—"

Harley grunted as the scarecrow's scythe impaled itself through his heart. Stacy screamed loudly, the others scattered, and Emily turned away. Her aunt was next on the scarecrow's list; he grabbed her around the neck, impaled his scythe in the back of Harley's leg and dragged them both off back into the middle of the orchard.

The next afternoon, Julia, Sam, and Dean saw Emily off on a bus leaving to Boston, Massachusetts. They had found the First Tree earlier in the morning and it was Emily, herself, that lit it on fire.

Julia was very impressed with the girl and her bravery. Not many normal people would risk their life to save a couple of strangers from being sacrificed. Especially when it was for the good of the town they lived in and loved. Emily was a genuinely good person and Julia wished the best for her.

As the bus drove off, Sam sighed, "Think she's gonna be all right?"

"I hope so," Dean stated, staring after the bus.

"And the rest of the people, they'll just get away with it?"

"They'll be punished enough when their whole town burns to the ground around them," Julia muttered bitterly; the brothers gave her a hesitant look, reminded of when she suggested burning down the whole orchard just in case. "Metaphorically, of course."

Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her. "You little pyromaniac."

Julia winked at him.

They started walking back to the Impala. "So," Dean started, looking over at his brother. "Can I drop you off somewhere?"

"No," Sam scoffed lightly. "I think you're both stuck with me."

Dean raised his eyebrows as he stopped by his door. "What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't. I still want to find Dad and you're still a pain in the ass," Sam chuckled and paused briefly. "But, Jess and Mom are both gone. Dad is God knows where. You and Julia—you're the only people I have left."

Dean's eyes flickered over to Julia, remembering her saying something almost exactly like that the day before. She was smiling cutely at the ground, her dimple on display. He was sure there were probably tears in her eyes.

"So," Sam sighed and Dean looked back at him. "if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

"Sam!" Julia sniffed and lunged toward the brothers, wrapping them into an involuntary hug. Dean had been right about her tears; they were currently soaking Sam's sleeve. "That was so beautiful. You should write a book of poems or something."

Dean laughed. "You could call it The Somber Sonnets of Sam Winchester."

"Ha-ha," Sam muttered sarcastically, removing a giggling Julia from around him. "You both should be kissing my ass, by the way. You guys were dead meat."

"Emily saved us long before you did, dude," Dean pointed out. "You got there just for the ending."

"He's right."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure, he is."

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

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miguel-manbemel · 4 years

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Aspects & Fanfics Ep. 26: A Side is Born Part 1: Virgil’s Pregnancy

Today is one year since the first episode of this story inspired on Sanders Sides by Thomas Sanders and Joan S. was released. I figured I had to do something special to celebrate it and I decided to try something new. And I decided to do something that hasn’t been done even on the original Sanders Sides: a five part epic serialized story starring the Sides.

The fun fact is that this originally started as a regular entry and the idea of a multipart episode came when I wrote the ending. And yes, the title is quite revealing. A new original Side is joining the story and it’s gonna be Roman and Virgil’s son. They’re not human so why not making a male pregnancy possible in this universe? I hope you enjoy this silly opening for this story which will be released on a weekly basis. So, until next week.

WARNINGS: The story features a physical childbirth with the struggles and pain usually associated with it, including a scene of vomiting, if it could be a trigger. Existential doubts for Virgil are to be found in the story too. Also romantic prinxiety and logicality, and a brief hint to romantic receipt played for laughs. Because yes, Remus appears, but he’s an ally in the story. This doesn’t prevent him from doing his anctics of course.

SYNOPSIS: Thomas feels strangely nervous, so he feels something’s wrong with Virgil. He’s sick and nauseous and his belly starts growing so they all deduce that Virgil must be pregnant. Now they wonder how this happened and Virgil has doubts about if he’s gonna be a good parent or not.

EPISODE INDEX

[Thomas is reading from his cell phone]

THOMAS: Merci… Gracias… Grazie… Go raibh maith agat… Efharisto… Danke schön… Tack så mycket… Dank je wel… Hvala… [noticing the camera] Oh, there you are. What am I doing, you say? Well, I’m learning how to say “Thank you” in as many European languages as I can. Soon I’ll be traveling to Europe and I want everyone to understand at least that from me… The next thing I’ll learn will be how to say “I love you”. What? That’s so me, you say? Well, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart and I’m grateful and proud of having you as my wonderful followers, the best followers anyone could ever ask for… but I don’t know what you mean by “that’s so me”.

[intro sequence]

THOMAS: What is up, everybody? Today hasn’t been a really good day. I don’t know why, but I have been feeling on the edge all day. Really, really nervous, and I don’t know why, cause we didn’t have specially stressful projects today. Well, I guess you know what comes next. If an emotion of mine spirals out of control, I have the advantage of being able to talk to that emotion face to face, so here we go. Virgil? Could you come here, please?

[Virgil rises up. He looks pale and sick]

VIRGIL: What do you want… [retches] Thomas?

THOMAS: Whoa… Are you okay, Virge? You look sick…

VIRGIL: Very observant, detective Sanders… I’ve been feeling awful today.

ROMAN: [rising up] Why didn’t you tell me any of this, my love?

VIRGIL: I didn’t want to concern you, Roman. Probably it’s just something I’ve eaten that’s not agreeing with my stomach.

ROMAN: Still, my duty as your husband is taking care of you when you’re feeling bad. I thought we had agreed on not hiding things from each other.

VIRGIL: Don’t worry, Roman, I’m sure this is not serious.

PATTON: [rising up] What is this about not feeling well, son?

VIRGIL: Oh… don’t worry, dad, I’m…

[Virgil can’t end his statement, as he suddenly turns around and starts loudly vomiting off-screen. Faces of disgust are shown from each of the Sides and Thomas]

THOMAS: Oh, my gosh…

ROMAN: It… It’s the first time that I see… magenta vomit?

PATTON: It would be cute if it wasn’t so disgusting…

THOMAS: What the heck did you have for breakfast today, Virgil, a bag of ink cartridges?

VIRGIL: [turning front] Do you think I am Remus or something? I’m sorry for this mess, Thomas. I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I didn’t eat anything unusual today.

ROMAN: I don’t know… Could it be indigestion over too much eating?

VIRGIL: What do you mean?

ROMAN: Well, I’m sorry, my love, I didn’t want to say it, but… I think you’re gaining a bit of weight lately.

VIRGIL: What?

ROMAN: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, but… look at your belly.

[Virgil looks at his belly. His purple shirt is too tight on it]

ROMAN: Your delicious abs are gone right now. Don’t get me wrong. I love that chubby belly and I’ll love you in any body shape, but I’m just worried about how you’ve gone chubby so suddenly.

VIRGIL: [angry] I’m not chubby! And I’m not fat, for the record! It’s just the belly what has got thicker! [suddenly outbursts crying] Why you have to be so rude!?

[Virgil starts crying, sobbing, with both hands covering his face]

ROMAN: [scared] I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my love! I’m sorry!

THOMAS: Morning nausea, protuberant belly, irritability and emotions on the edge… Heh… It’s funny. If you weren’t a man I would say that you’ve got all the symptoms of being pregnant.

[Virgil slowly lowers his hands from his face and looks at Thomas with a face of horror]

THOMAS: [serious] Wait… don’t tell me that you can…

VIRGIL: Oh… my… goodness… [putting his hands on his belly] For the love of Gerard Way…

THOMAS: But… this is not a Sims game! Since when can a person with male reproductive organs get pregnant!?

ROMAN: [in shock] I… I didn’t know that was possible either.

VIRGIL: [stuttering] I wasn’t certain if it could be possible. But these past months I was thinking… How did Patton have me? All of us, the Sides of Thomas, are male like him, so there were only two options. Either Patton got someone pregnant who delivered me, or he got pregnant with me at some point. In any case, there was a male Side delivering me. The alternative is me being created by the Mind Palace itself, like most Sides, and therefore Patton not being my real father, which I know it can’t be true, given the special kind of love and connection that we share. I refuse to believe that Patton is not my real father. That’s out of the question.

PATTON: You are my son, Virgil. Never have any doubts about it, because the connection that exists between us both, the kind of pure, unconditional love that I feel for you and you feel for me, that wouldn’t exist otherwise. However, I’m a bit confused. By that time, I hadn’t been with anyone yet… and I haven’t got any recollection of having you through pregnancy. Is that how kids are…?

VIRGIL: Either way, it probably was so long ago that you don’t remember how it happened, just as I don’t remember being born as a Light Side, then turning Dark. [makes a sudden pause and looks at Patton with a serious face] Wait… what do you mean by “by that time”, dad? Do you mean that after I was born you have…?

ROMAN: [interrupting Virgil, nervously] Um… Thomas, I think we need Logan to shed a light to all of this, don’t you agree?

THOMAS: Yes, I’m so confused that I think my head is going to explode. I hope Logan can help us. Logan, could you come here, please!?

LOGAN: [rising up] How may I serve you, Thomas?

THOMAS: It’s not me who needs help. It’s Virgil.

LOGAN: Well, what’s the problem?

VIRGIL: I know it doesn’t make any sense and that it defies all laws of reproduction, but… I think I might be pregnant.

LOGAN: [unconcerned] Okay. How do you feel?

THOMAS: What? You think it’s completely logical that a male individual can get pregnant?

LOGAN: Well, I would find it completely illogical if Virgil was human. But he’s not, and as you know, not all laws of science apply to the Mind Palace, so in theory is perfectly possible for him to get pregnant. It is the first time that I’ve seen it with my own eyes, though. [looking furtively at Patton] That means we’ll have to take extra precautions when…

ROMAN: [nervously, looking at Logan with a murderous glance] Um… yes, Logan we all must always take precautions when. But it’s a little late for you to tell us this, don’t you think?

LOGAN: Well, you should be happy, Roman. I thought your biggest concern was your apparent inability to, following the laws of your principality, conceive a legitimate heir to the throne of Sandersia because you didn’t want to spend the rest of your life with anyone other than Virgil. Now that’s solved and you’ll get the legitimate offspring you always wanted to have while preserving your true love.

ROMAN: I… I hadn’t thought about that… But that’s right, Virge, I always wished to have offspring and you made the miracle possible. I love you.

VIRGIL: Well, I love you too, but I would have wished to know that this was possible beforehand, so that we could have planned this all more carefully.

LOGAN: First, before we continue theorizing, I think it would be best if I made a little check on Virgil to verify or counter-verify the news. It would be silly to talk about it when we don’t know yet if you’re really expecting. For all we know, it could just be a bad case of gas.

VIRGIL: I wish, but I don’t think so. Do I have to pee in a glass or something?

LOGAN: That won’t be necessary, just relax and let me do my work.

ROMAN: Won’t the shaking energy you use be dangerous for the baby, if they exist?

LOGAN: Don’t worry, I’ll be working on low power to avoid any damages to the child. Virgil open up your hoodie and lift up your shirt. I’ll need direct contact with your skin to be able to make a low-power check on you.

VIRGIL: Okay, Logan, you’re the doctor.

[Virgil opens up his hoodie and, with some difficulty as it is already too tight, he lifts his shirt up to the chest. Logan approaches Virgil and puts his hand gently on Virgil’s belly button, then starts caressing Virgil’s belly gently]

VIRGIL: It’s funny, I feel like a weird tingling sensation wherever Logan places his hand…

THOMAS: Incredible, it looks as if your belly was growing bigger by the minute as we speak… No offense, dude, I have felt that sensation myself sometimes after eating too much pizza.

LOGAN: Guys, be quiet, please. It’s harder for me to compile data while working with this low amount of power, I need silence or I won’t read anything.

THOMAS: Sorry, Logan.

[Logan slowly caresses Virgil’s belly up and down, left and right for a few seconds with a face of huge concentration. Roman, Patton and Thomas watch in expectation]

LOGAN: [taking his hand off] Okay… it’s done.

[Logan returns to his place]

VIRGIL: [on the verge of hysteria] Well, what did you see!?

LOGAN: Congratulations, guys. It’s a boy. Not surprising, though, as all Sides of Thomas share with him the same sex, gender, and attributes.

ROMAN: So, it’s true, then. We have a bun in the oven.

LOGAN: [confused, looking at the kitchen] I… I don’t think so, Roman, the oven is unlit and there are no signs of dough on the counter… And what does that have to do with this case, anyway?

THOMAS: It’s an expression, Logan, write it down on your vocab cards. Well, guys, I think we must call the others to give them the news. Deceit! Honesty! Remus!

[Deceit and Honesty rise up. Remus pops up]

DECEIT: What’s the ma… [looking in shock at Virgil, who is still with his shirt up as his now too bulging belly doesn’t let him lower it down] …what is going on here?

[Virgil summons his shirt away and zips up his wider hoodie with no shirt underneath]

VIRGIL: This is going faster than I thought. Wasn’t this supposed to last for nine months or something?

HONESTY: Nine… nine months? You mean that…?

ROMAN: Yes, guys. I don’t know how this happened, but we’re having a baby!

REMUS: Well, we’re all adults, Roman. We all know how babies do happen. [smirk] Wow, you really were hungry after these two months away from your husband! [wiggling his eyebrows] You two made the most of your time together, right?

PATTON: I didn’t know that’s what you had to do to make babies happen. I didn’t really know this thing existed until recently, so…

VIRGIL: Until recently? So you recently have…

ROMAN: [interrupting, looking at Patton with another murderous glance] Is no one going to congratulate us?

HONESTY: Of course, Roman. Congratulations!

DECEIT: Congratulations, Virgil. I… I’m happy for you.

VIRGIL: Thank you, Dee.

REMUS: That means that now I’m gonna be an uncle! [gasps realizing something] I’ll be Uncle Remus! [starts singing to the tune of the Disney song] Zeep-a-dee-doo-dah! Zeep-a-de-day! My, oh, my, what a wonderful day… [speaking] I hope you don’t pretend that I don’t exist like it happened to that other famous Uncle Remus from Disney.

THOMAS: Nah, you don’t need to worry. We already tried that and it doesn’t work. Not completely at least.

PATTON: And now not only I’m gonna be a dad! I’m gonna be a grand-dad too! I’m so happy!

[Patton jumps to hug Roman and Virgil, squeezing them a little bit. In doing so, the magenta puddle on the stairs behind Virgil is exposed]

REMUS: Wait, what is that magenta puddle behind Virgil?

[Patton goes back to his spot]

VIRGIL: [looking at the puddle] Oh, that’s right, I forgot to clean it up. I went really sick a moment ago and I puked this magenta… goo.

REMUS: It has a really pretty color… Can I eat it?

EVERYONE: [yelling at the same time] NO!!

REMUS: Ugh… But it looks so delicious… Why letting go to waste such a cute delicacy? [Virgil summons the puddle away] Okay, fine… I’ll make my own magenta puddle later. And I won’t share!

THOMAS: Thank God the vomit’s gone. I was fearing how long it was gonna take me to clean the stain off the carpet.

VIRGIL: One thing I don’t understand is… why was that vomit all magenta? I don’t get it.

LOGAN: Well, magenta is the result of mixing red and purple. Roman is red and you are purple. The Side that is inside of you, about to be born, will be magenta, for sure.

VIRGIL: [in pain, putting his hand on his belly] Aw!

ROMAN: [scared] What was that, Virgil! Are you okay?

VIRGIL: I… I think so… He moved inside me, and kicked me really hard from my insides. It was so weird…

ROMAN: Seriously, Logan. How can this go so fast? This morning he was having the first nausea and now he looks as if he was six months pregnant already!

LOGAN: Well, as I told you, we’re not human. Maybe instead of nine months, Virgil’s pregnancy will be only nine hours. Probably less, judging how fast it’s going.

THOMAS: I was thinking…

LOGAN: What?

THOMAS: When we lost Ira, you said that, one day or another, the Mind Palace would create a new Side to substitute him as Wrath. Could it be that the Side that is about to be born will assume my Wrath functions?

LOGAN: I don’t think so, Thomas. Roman is Creativity and Virgil is Vigilance and Anxiety. The Side that is born from them must have traits from them both, just like Virgil, son of Patton, shares with him that he’s a feeling. Wrath as an aspect is not directly tied with Creativity and Anxiety, it could happen as a product of Anxiety, but it can also happen on its own without it. Besides, it is up to the Mind Palace to create the new Side of Wrath, he won’t be born like this. We’ll still have to wait for the new Wrath to arrive someday.

THOMAS: Okay, if you say so, Logan. But then, what Side of me will he be?

LOGAN: I can’t tell yet. I’ll need to check him when he comes out. Then we’ll know for certain.

VIRGIL: [scared] Guys… How is the baby going to come out from me? Unlike women, I don’t have any ducts in my body through which he could come out.

REMUS: Yeah, is he going to burst out through his chest like in the movie “Alien”?

[Virgil grimaces]

ROMAN: [angry] Remus, please!

REMUS: What? That’s exactly what Virgil was thinking about, only that I put it out into words so you all know what he wanted to say. You’re welcome, Virge.

LOGAN: It’s okay, Virgil. When I checked you out I also checked the baby’s basic biology and status. Remember that our bodies can shape-shift?

VIRGIL: Yes…

LOGAN: Well, so the baby can. When the moment of delivery comes, he will come out through… any open conduct of yours as if it was some kind of gaseous smoke, safely solidifying in your arms without any damage for any of you.

REMUS: So, he’s literally gonna fart my nephew out? [clapping hands excited] That is so my aesthetic! I love it! I wanna have a baby too! Dee, will you help me out!?

DECEIT: [horrified] Whoa! Don’t stay away from me!

REMUS: [happy] Yay! Let’s do it!

DECEIT: [nervous] No, I really meant to say that! When I get nervous I tell the truth! Ugh! Don’t step back! [Remus starts approaching Deceit with his arms wide open and a sick smile] Dang it! Why did I have to be the embodiment of lies!? Guys, don’t help me!

[Deceit starts running away, Remus runs after him. They run in circles for a while while Patton shows a face of confusion, Honesty a face of shock, Logan facepalms, Thomas shows a concerned face and Roman just stares with a void expression. Then Virgil is shown with a face of angry struggle until he snaps]

VIRGIL: [yelling] F… [bleep] …ING SHUT UP!!!

[Everyone looks at Virgil, Deceit and Remus stop and look at Virgil too]

VIRGIL: FOR F… [bleep] ‘S SAKE, SHUT UP! AW! IT HURTS!

ROMAN: Virgil, what’s the matter!?

VIRGIL: How do you want me to know!? This thing inside of me is so heavy now! And it hurts! Aw!

LOGAN: Uh-oh! I think the time has come!

VIRGIL: What!? So soon!? I’m not ready yet!

LOGAN: Well, the baby is gonna pop out, whether you’re ready or not. Come to the couch, come on.

[Roman and Logan grab Virgil’s arms and help him walk to the couch, where he lies down]

VIRGIL: This is horrible! I thought you said it wouldn’t hurt!

LOGAN: No, I said it wouldn’t damage you. I never talked about pain. Your whole abdomen is full of gas as the baby takes that form to get out. How wouldn’t that hurt? Once you start delivering, the pain will disappear, you’ll see.

VIRGIL: Gosh… this all looks so ridiculous! Are you sure this is not some short of stupid nightmare!?

PATTON: It is not, but if it was a dream, why call it a nightmare? This moment, even with the struggle right now, should be something beautiful for you. Is it not?

VIRGIL: I don’t know, dad… I don’t know if I’m ready to be a father.

PATTON: Why?

VIRGIL: How am I going to take care of someone else when I can barely take care of myself, and with difficulty? I’m gonna suck as a parent! I’m not good enough for such a huge responsibility! I’m so scared!

ROMAN: [holding Virgil’s hand] You are good enough, Virgil. You’re the one who always takes into consideration all the possible outcomes to any situation before it even happens. The kid wouldn’t be in safer hands than yours.

VIRGIL: But I’m wrong a lot. What if he turns into some kind of manic paranoid because of me? What if I spoil him and turn him into a sad excuse of a Side? What if…?

ROMAN: Enough with those “what ifs”, Virgil! That’s not gonna happen! I’m a little scared too. I think it’s normal to feel unsure when a new life comes into the world and it’s your responsibility to take care of him. But remember that you’re not alone in that responsibility. This child is also my son and I’m gonna take my part of the duty too.

PATTON: And we’re also here to help you two in any way you need.

ROMAN: I’m sure we’ll figure it out. As long as we’re together, we can do it, you’ll see.

VIRGIL: Roman…

ROMAN: Yes?

VIRGIL: Please, don’t drop my hand while it happens.

[Roman smiles lovingly at Virgil and kisses his forehead]

ROMAN: Never. I only beg you something.

VIRGIL: What?

ROMAN: Please, when you’re pushing, don’t break my finger bones while you’re holding my hand… I need it to write.

VIRGIL: [titters] I’ll try… [suddenly in pain again] Nnghh!

LOGAN: Okay, now calm down, Virgil, and listen to me. I’m gonna be your midwife during the process and I’ll help you go through it safely. This is not gonna be like a regular human delivery with contractions and all that stuff. What you’re feeling right now is the baby, in the form of smoke, circulating inside your body, trying to find the way out. It is as if you had a bad case of intestinal cramps. That can really hurt sometimes in a regular situation, so imagine having your whole intestine full of it.

VIRGIL: [in pain] Oh, they’re really bad cramps, I can confirm! Roman, if you want any more babies, you’re gonna carry them!

ROMAN: I… I think one will be enough…

LOGAN: When the smoke reaches the exit, the pain will be gone and will be replaced by the happiness of having your son in your arms, and you’ll think that all you’re going through right now was really worth it. But until that moment comes, I need you to be strong. Okay?

VIRGIL: [whining, his forehead is full of sweat] Okay…

LOGAN: Now, I’m sorry, but I need you to be in more suitable clothing for the operation.

[Logan moves his hands and Virgil is now dressed with a purple hospital gown]

LOGAN: [positioning next to Virgil’s feet] That should do it. It’s open in the back so that the baby can come out… from where he has to come out… while respecting your own privacy.

VIRGIL: Thank you… [in pain] Aw! Here comes the pain again, and it’s worse than ever!

LOGAN: Okay, as I said there are no contractions, but what doesn’t change is that I’ll need you to push.

VIRGIL: Couldn’t I get the epidural?

LOGAN: It’s too late for it to take effect. You’ll have to cope. It will be over in less than a minute.

VIRGIL: Seems more like a century! [yelling] Aaah!

LOGAN: Now, push!

[Virgil makes a gesture of pushing while groaning. Roman looks at Virgil with the hugest concern. Then Virgil stops and loudly pants]

ROMAN: Come on, my love! I believe in you! You’re strong enough to do this!

LOGAN: It’s not enough yet. Push again… now!

[Virgil pushes again. A loud rasping noise is heard]

VIRGIL: Is it out yet?

LOGAN: [with a face of disgust as if smelling something unpleasant, fanning with his hand] No, sorry, that was just a regular fart. But it’s a good sign. The next thing coming out of there will be the baby. Now, one last time, use all your might you have left and push as if tomorrow would never come. Now!

VIRGIL: [pushing] NNNNNGGGGGHHHHHAAAAAAA!!!

LOGAN: Here it comes!

[A bright magenta smoke comes out of Virgil’s body. As it comes out forming a magenta cloud, Virgil’s belly shrinks until it returns to its normal flat form, while he shows a face of huge alleviation. Then, the cloud floats to Virgil’s chest and after some seconds, it disappears, to reveal a little baby dressed only with magenta diapers. The baby starts crying]

LOGAN: Well, it’s done. Good job, Virgil.

VIRGIL: [with his eyes full of tears] I… I… look at him, Roman.

ROMAN: [crying] I’m looking at him, Virgil. He’s as handsome as his dad. And I mean you.

THOMAS: [with his eyes full of tears] He looks just like me when I was a baby, I’ve seen photos of that. Congratulations, guys. I’m so happy for you.

VIRGIL: Thank you, Thomas.

ROMAN: Thank you.

THOMAS: Now, how are you going to name him?

VIRGIL: Well, first we need to know what aspect of your personality he’s going to represent. I want him to have a suitable name. [kissing the baby’s crown] A perfect name for a perfect boy.

LOGAN: Let me check the baby now and I’ll tell you what Side of Thomas he is.

[Logan touches the baby gently for a couple of seconds then looks at the couple]

LOGAN: Well, I can tell you confidently that this baby represents Thomas’ creative angst. He’s also his emotional sensitivity, his empathy and the Side that helps him connect his creativity with his emotions. That was probably inherited from his grandpa. Congratulations to you too, Patton, by the way.

PATTON: Thank you, my lo… [noticing he was about to mess up] …o-o-o-gan.

VIRGIL: Okay, I was too busy being worried about what was happening to me earlier. But now that that’s taken care of, what are you three hiding from me? And yes, I’m looking at you too, Roman, don’t think I didn’t notice it earlier. And you called me out for hiding things from you?

ROMAN: I’m sorry, Virgil, I…

PATTON: Sorry, son, I asked him to keep the secret for us. I promise we were gonna tell you eventually.

VIRGIL: Tell me what?

[Logan’s face is bright red. He looks nervously in all directions]

PATTON: I can tell them if you want me to.

LOGAN: No, what kind of teacher would I be if I couldn’t deliver a simple sentence stating a true fact about us? Well, the truth is that… [starts stuttering nervously] well, that Patton and I… well…

[suddenly, out of nowhere, Logan shows a determined face, looks at Patton and plants a long kiss on his mouth. All the Sides look at them in shock]

LOGAN: [breathing heavily] There! That should do it. [pulling out a vocab card] They say that “an image is worth a thousand words”, and since I was never gonna be able to put my feelings down in words, I decided to use the real language of feelings to communicate how much I’m in love with Patton. [embarrassed] Oh, wait, I did say it…

[Virgil looks at Logan and Patton. Notices how red Logan’s face still is and starts slowly giggling. Soon the giggling becomes a loud cackle and the laughter spreads to the rest of the Sides. In the end, even Logan is faintly giggling]

VIRGIL: Wow, I really needed this laugh after what I have just gone through. I’m happy for you two, guys. You really make a cute couple.

PATTON: Thanks, kiddo. Well, I don’t know if I should call you kiddo anymore, now that you’re a father yourself.

VIRGIL: Please, dad, no matter how old I get, and how many children I’ve got – which will only be this one, by the way – never stop calling me kiddo. I’ll always be your kiddo, okay?

PATTON: [heartwarming smile] Okay… kiddo.

ROMAN: Glad that the secret is out. Do you know how many times I was tempted to strangle you every time you messed up? You both suck at hiding secrets.

PATTON: Sorry, Roman. And thank you for staying true to us even if we made it so difficult. And now, kiddos, what name will you choose for the baby?

VIRGIL: I’m too tired right now to choose a name. Roman, you’re the creative one. Choose a name for our son.

ROMAN: Well… Since he’s now royalty, he needs a name worthy of a prince. Creative angst, you said? Hmm…

[all the Sides and Thomas look at Roman in expectation while Roman is thinking]

ROMAN: [talking to himself] Creative angst… Creative angst… If I rearrange these letters, remove some of them and add some more… [yelling to the others] I got it! His name will be Christian. Prince Christian Gerard Sanders. Gerard is in honor of Gerard Way, vocalist from My Chemical Romance, cause I know how much Virgil loves that band. And if you shorten the name to Chris Sanders, it sounds like the famed author of Lilo & Stich and How to Train Your Dragon. Even though that director’s full name is Christopher, I still think the name Christian really suits our boy. Do you like it, Virge?

VIRGIL: Like it? I love it, Roman. Just as much as I love you.

[Roman leans towards Virgil and kisses him]

THOMAS: Well, I think we should all let them rest. Feel free to rest on my couch all the time you need, Virge. You can stay over for dinner if you want.

VIRGIL: Thank you, Thomas, I’d really appreciate that. I need some time before I feel ready to stand up.

THOMAS: Of course, take all the time you need.

VIRGIL: For starters, Logan, would you mind giving me my outfit back? This gown is still open in the back and I can feel something itchy from the couch getting on my higher back and in my… [looking at Patton] … lower back.

THOMAS: Sorry, Virge. I’ve been so busy these past few days… that I didn’t have time to vacuum the couch for a couple of weeks. There probably are crumbs of pizza everywhere and you must be lying on them. I didn’t expect Logan to put you in that open gown.

VIRGIL: Thomas! I’m gonna be itchy for a week!

PATTON: Let me hold the baby, son. Roman, help him brush his back okay?

ROMAN: Okay…

THOMAS: [to the camera, putting himself in front of it, blocking the action behind him] Okay, to all of you out there, thank you much for watching this… weird session of ours we had today, and until next time, take it easy, guys, gals and non binary pals. Peace out!

[end card]

[Virgil is sitting on the couch, already with his usual hoodie on. Roman is next to him. They’re having a pizza that Thomas ordered]

VIRGIL: Is it weird that I feel as if everything today had happened like a decade ago? I can barely remember anything of the bad, [looking at Chris, who is sleeping on a light blue cradle Patton summoned earlier] just the good that came in the end.

ROMAN: Yeah. You never know what life has in store for you. Yesterday we were living our lives like always, and now here we are, facing the ultimate adventure of life that is parenthood.

VIRGIL: It’s a good thing that Logan told us that I can’t produce milk and that I have to summon bottles of formula for him. I don’t know if I could have stood the sensation of having to breastfeed the baby through my nipples. And women can go through this and an even a harder kind of delivery labor than mine? Women are the real superheroes. Kudos to them all.

ROMAN: Yeah… I don’t know why stories like the ones I usually star in always portray women like a delicate creature that needs someone like me to save them. When in reality, most of the time, it’s them who save us in so many different ways.

THOMAS: Do you want any more pizza, guys?

VIRGIL: Oof… thanks, Thomas, it was great pizza, but I’m full.

ROMAN: Me too…

CHILD-LIKE VOICE: [off-screen] Pizza…

[Thomas, Roman and Virgil get quiet]

THOMAS: What was that?

VIRGIL: It sounded like the voice of a kid…

ROMAN: Did the neighbor kid sneak into your apartment to steal your meals again, Thomas?

THOMAS: I hope not. I seriously talked with his parents and they promised me they would severely ground him if he did that again. He wouldn’t dare to…

VOICE: [voice] Pizza! Pizza!

THOMAS: Again! Who’s there!? Where are you!? Show yourself!

ROMAN: Whoever it is, they’re in the same room.

VOICE: Pizza!

VIRGIL: The voice comes from the cradle! [jumping to the cradle] Whoever you are, get away from my son!

ROMAN: I have a samurai sword and I’m gonna use it!

VOICE: Pizza! Gimme pizza! Pizza!

VIRGIL: Um… guys…

ROMAN: What?

VIRGIL: It looks like our little baby is not so… little… anymore… Look…

[Virgil takes Chris out of the cradle. Except that it is now a three year old boy]

CHRIS: [giggling and poking Virgil’s nose] Dad, I want pizza!

THOMAS AND ROMAN: [overlapping] Whaaat!?

[A sign reading “To be continued, guys, gals and non binary pals appears]

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afterspark-podcast · 4 years

Text

G1 Episode 37: Transcript

[This can also be found on AO3!]

[Stinger]

S: I imagine he's the one who was going and getting food but he was probably getting, like, ramen noodles.

[Intro Music]

O: Hello, and welcome to the Afterspark Podcast, an episode by episode recap of the generation 1 Transformers cartoon. I'm Owls.

S: And I'm Specs.

O: Today, we're going to be talking about episode number 37: Blaster Blues. Let's talk about giant robots today, shall we?

S: Sure.

O: And today, we open upon a rock concert with incredibly generic rock music playing.

S: And kind of a lot of pink. At least on the, uh, the screen that we paused on because, like, they’re super security in that masculinity, but it was very colorful.

O: There is also a lot of strobing going on in this scene and I wonder if this would get an epilepsy warning if aired today? Which just feels kind of weird when you're watching 80’s media because that wasn't really a thing yet?

S: Well, I mean it's good that we know about it now.

O: True.

S: Yeah, making sure that people don't have- people with medical conditions don't spontaneously have them- happen is, you know, you don't want it-

O: Definitely-

S: You don’t want-

O: -a good thing.

S: You don't want to trigger anyone's debilitating medical condition.

O: Right. I didn't- kill- okay, tangent: I still can't believe that the Incredibles 2 movie had a scene that was- apparently- needed a strobe warning and they didn't have one in there and I'm, like, this is freaking 2018 or whatever! What the heck?

S: I think I know which one that was.

O: I do too.

S: But, I mean, Into The Spiderverse also definitely had a lot of that.

O: Well, to get back to this.

S: Yeah. [Laughter] Blaster is enjoying that concert with Spike and Carly.

O: The- and they all lament that the other Autobots aren't there but through the power of broadcasting, they don't need to be!

S: Blaster can share the joy of rock music with the world!

O: Or the Autobots, at least.

S: Whether they want him to or not.

O: Cosmos seems quite happy to have some music to fly around to, though. Even does a little loop de loop.

S: What's important is that he's having fun. He probably doesn't get a whole lot of entertainment up there.

O: No, no, he doesn't., my poor son.

S: Mm-hm. And at the Ark, Optimus and Sparkplug are trying to get some target practice done with Omega Supreme.

O: Omega Supreme, as I believe this is his first appearance in the G1 cartoon, is this, like, ginormous Autobot with an incredibly complicated transformation.

S: Oh, he is, he- he has such a complicated transformation- he literally goes to pieces: splitting into a rocket, a rocket base, and a tank in vehicle mode.

O: I mean, why have one when you can have three? [Laughter]

S: Don't ask how he goes anywhere in vehicle mode.

O: Oh, we'll get to that. [Laughter]

S: Yep and all of this is suddenly interrupted by some unprompted rock music, except we know better.

O: And we- we have to assume this is playing through Teletran one because not only does Optimus hear it but Sparkplug can hear it, too.

S: And he reacts to it mightily.

O: As does Optimus, neither of them really like rock music, apparently.

S: Yep. Jazz has some taste, though. He seems, like, super happy and starts boogy-ing down.

O: That's cause Jazz is awesome, duh.

S: Elsewhere, at an observatory, a scientist is trying to make contact with extraterrestrials.

O: This just kills me. They have aliens on their- their planet! This is well-known information. He should probably just drive over to the Ark if he wants to contact alien life but- no!

S: Yeah, it's a little bit, um, a little bit pointless when they can literally just go interview the giant robots that are already there.

O: He appears to be giving a lecture to other scientists and, possibly, the press about his new invention that would allow such contact with extraterrestrials.

S: He just needs to grab a megaphone and shout, “Hey! I have energy!” and the Decepticons would turn up. Though, I have a thought that he doesn't think that Transformers are robots- er, aliens because they're robots? Maybe he's just thinking organic life?

O: I don't know but he could also just paint the entire building purple. That would certainly get the Decepticons there, too.

S: Oh, it would, it would. Ah, and speaking of the Decepticons, look who's here!

O: [Laughter] Shocker! Megatron begins talking to the scientist from the roof where Megatron, Starscream, and Thundercracker have landed and the guy's like, “Ah! A response. Where are you?”

S: They’re completely ignoring the time- well, that it would still take a lot of time for this message- message to traverse the void of space and then, you know, get a response back.

O: He's a world renowned scientist, Specs, world renowned!

S: Is it a really small world?

O: [Laughter] No, it's just a cartoon in the 80s.

S: Oh indeed. Megatron proceeds to dick with a guy saying to the- something to the effect of, “Oh, much closer than that.”

O: Starscream gets impatient and ruins his fun by just blowing shit up, though.

S: Yeah, and Megatron is just not happy with Starscream because he could have destroyed the “Voltronic Galaxer” which is, apparently, what today's, um, fancy, schmancy tech gadget is called, and what the scientist was, apparently, using to try and communicate.

O: I think he calls it a “Galaxer” in in the show but don't quote me on that. [Laughter]

S: [Laughter]

O: Anyway, the scientist manages to be pretty fly for an old guy, dodging a blast from Starscream and then running off yelling, “Help!”

S: Hm, back at the Ark, Blaster continues to annoy his teammates. Jazz continues to dance, clanking all the way.

O: The scientist’s plea for help comes in over Teletraan and everybody tells Blaster to shut up before they leave.

S: No one appreciates him.

O: Nobody- Blaster was unappreciated in his time.

S: Yeah. We get a series of shots showing us a bunch of toys- I mean, um, characters transforming.

O: Optimus Prime, Ironhide, Trailbreaker, Hound, Ratchet, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, Mirage, and Bumblebee. And poor Blaster seems rather put upon- he just wanted to show his friends some tunes.

S: He wants to share the love.

O: That hard rockin’ love. It's all right, he'll get to enjoy some music later.

S: Mm-hm. And now, back at the observatory, the scientist gloms onto his device shouting, “No! Anything but this!”

O: I'm really, truly, not sure what he hoped to accomplish here as Megatron just can easily pick the entire damn thing up.

S: Taking the dude with him or with it.

O: To which, Megatron just sort of tips the guy onto the ground, much like I would do a bug that I found in my kitchen.

S: Yeah, or a mouse that you found crawling on you. And then all the Decepticons fly off to a rendezvous with Astrotrain.

O: Astrotrain is another new character- he is a Decepticon triple changer that turns into both a train and a shuttle. He is, of course, purple.

S: Yep, Megs opens a cargo hatch [in Astrotrain’s train mode] and shoves the Voltronic Galaxer in before rejoining the two seekers.

O: And then, Astrotrain turns into a shuttle and all the Decepticons get inside. I'd ask why they did it like that but I already know the answer. They needed to show the kids that he could be a train and also be a jet!

S: Yep.

O: My head hurts.

S: And then they blast off into space as the Autobots arrive at the observatory.

O: The scientist tells the Autobots they are too late and Optimus questions how the- what the device could do and the scientist says something about “unscrambling communications.”

S: Ah, god, has the military been funding this guy's stuff?

O: I don't know! He seems pretty unconcerned about any other applications of his device. I think he's legitimately just wanted to talk to aliens.

S: He could have just called up the Autobots. I mean, he obviously had their number.

O: Obviously, but the Autobots head back to base after this since they can't really do anything when the Decepticons aren't there.

S: Yeah, they're a bit, uh, a bit difficult for a bunch of ground pounders to, uh, chase something into space.

O: True.

S: Optimus is then seen communicating with various other Autobots who are monitoring for Decepticon activity but no one has seen or heard anything.

O: And they have also, apparently, sent Blaster into space jail, as he's just sort of chilling inside Cosmos as Cosmos is flying around in space.

S: Well, at least he's with one of the two Bots who actually seems to appreciate his musical taste.

O: He does lament that he can't get any radio stations all the way out here, though.

S: Well another mark for Cosmos needing some entertainment.

O: Definitely.

S: And for the Decepticons base of the week, apparently, they've built one on the moon.

O: And, apparently, they stole the Galaxer to jam the airways on Earth!

S: Cosmos moves in closer, landing in Megatron's direct line of sight.

O: Oh, Cosmos- good at subterfuge, you ain't.

S: Yeah- Astrotrain goes after them and manages to capture Cosmos.

O: Complete with violently magenta abduction light as he pulls Cosmos into his hold.

S: This is going to be, like, the first of at least a few weird int-interactions between Astrotrain and Cosmos.

O: You're right, you're very right.

S: Yeah, poor Cosmos, Astrotrain knocks him out a weird amount- he renders him not able to do anything.

O: [laughter] Yeah, that's- that's true.

S: I hadn't made that connection until now. Oh gosh, um, so Megatron decides to get, uh, personal when they are dragged back to base calling Cosmos, “A useless piece of scrap.”

O: I don't know how the hell I'm gonna slap the shit out of a 40-foot robot but I'm about to give it a good, ol’ try!

S: Both bots are welded into place. Cosmos having been regulated to a power booster and Blaster be either being used to control the, um, the doohickey or separately to scramble the audio signals.

O: I feel the need to point out there should be some consent here. It's really not cool, guys...

S: The Decepticons are villains- they don't care about their enemies. It's not like they've got the Geneva Convention.

O: There's what? There's no war Geneva Convention, Specs? [Laughter]

S: Well, no, they just don't have Geneva.

O: [Laughter]

S: All right, a Geneva equivalent. The device takes hold and we see an airport lose communication with various planes that are coming and going, um-

O: Some planes-

S: -so much death.

O: Yeah, yeah- but some planes take some rather evasive maneuvers to avoid other planes. I swear, some of them are moving like fighter jets and I can't even.

S: Yeah, the skies are also, you know, pretty clear- so the pilots should be able to see and make decisions.

O: But what about the drama of almost hitting another plane? They would never do that!

S: They need their pilot's licenses ta- suspended.

O: [Laughter] I mean, you're not wrong.

S: Elsewhere, on some train tracks, some workmen are trying to clear the- clear the tracks of some debris. It might be a fallen tree but it's debris and except they can't radio tri- the, uh, train that's coming before it hits the fallen tree and derails.

O: And then explodes!

S: I'm afraid that cow catcher is not terribly useful.

O: But surprise, surprise they can't radio the fire department because, of course.

S: You know, with all these radios not working I'm getting some fucking flashbacks to the live-action movie.

O: No, no it's too early in the year to have to think about the live-action movies! No!

S: It is not too early to get prepped for that.

O: [Laughter] Nooooo!

S: Fortunately, Red Alert and Astrotrain are nearby-

O: [Laughter] I think you mean Inferno!

S: [Laughter] Yes, you're right!

O: [Laughter] Red Alert and Astrotrain would be quite the pair, wouldn't they? I’m sorry.

S: I think they'd be trying to murder each other.

O: Right?! They were just out for a walk, apparently. Anyway, sorry, go ahead.

S: Fortunately, Red Alert and Inferno are nearby and ready to take on the problem which, um, Red Alert tries to deal with by, you know, shooting the fire out.

O: Thankfully, Inferno does something a little bit more productive and I think they were trying to have Red make a fire break but the way they did it made like zero sense.

S: Yeah, though I have seen something where, apparently, you can shoot, like, some sort of carbon that’ll release? Maybe it's not carbon or something. Maybe it was CO2 that would release and smother it?

O: Hmm, that does make sense but that definitely isn't what that looked like.

S: Yeah. Megatron has taken control of the airwaves, as he's heard on the workmen's radio immediately before Red and Inferno are attacked by Ramjet and Thundercracker.

O: And suddenly, in the mountains, there's snow! I want snow, Specs.

S: Well, we'll have it soon.

O: Not soon enough.

S: Yeah. Some forecaster is trying to warn motorists by broadcasting over the radio.

O: Which, just like everything else, obviously doesn't work.

S: At the Ark, Optimus drives in with his trailer and yeets himself forward while transforming once arriving in the, you know, the Teletraan room on Optimus: Action Hero.

O: The Autobots realize what's happening and they all head out and try to help.

S: Ah, the goody two shoes that they are.

O: [Laughter]

S: They arrive on the snowy mountain and, uh, just have snow tires they can swap to, instantaneously.

O: Of course!

S: They must- [Sighs] I wish we had that sort of tech.

O: That would be nice. Hoist manages to save a car that falls off a cliff with his like little grippy tow claw thing.

S: Yep. Oh, Hoist the savior we deserve.

O: I, too, would like to be saved by a very polite, vaguely British Autobot.

S: Yep. Prowl is helping evacuate people from their cars who are then taking refuge in Ratchet because Ratchet apparently has seats now.

O: Convenient snow tires, convenient seats, convenient everything today.

S: Yep. Trailbreaker runs up to a car, generates a force field, picks it up, and puts the force field over the car to prevent it from, uh, being impacted by a pile of snow landing on it.

O: Oh my god, that's made of energy, right? How does that work? How can-

S: Weird, weird bullshit.

O: It doesn't make any sense.

S: Yeah, I- it's weird, weird bullshit. I don't know, because it makes about as much sense as all the Autobots flying through space in his forceshield.

O: [Sighs] Touche.

S: And, as with before, the Autobots hear Megatron on the radio and are immediately attacked by Ramjet and Thundercracker.

O: I'm going to assume that this is after they just attacked Red and Inferno or this makes very little sense. You know, just like everything else that keeps happening.

S: Either that or there's a Thundercracker look-alike running around which- possible? I don't know. The Autobots do their best to cover Ratchet, who's still housing some of the humans but eventually, uh, are blown away into the snow.

O: Elsewhere, Optimus is directing air traffic like a freaking traffic cop.

S: Spike and Carly are listening to Megatron on the radio, realizing he's on every frequency.

O: Ramjet and Thundercracker show up, yet again, shooting Optimus and Powerglide.

S: So, being shot, since Powerglide’s speeding towards the ground with Carly and Spike inside along for the ride and then Carly and Spike grabbed some emergency jet packs and put them on Powerglide's, um, exterior and then he's able to land safely.

O: Well, that was not the direction I thought that was going to go in at all.

S: Me, neither.

O: Which, I mean, kudos for them to trying to save their friend but, that being said, I don't think that should have worked because they are still in the air and the wind speed alone should like made that very difficult to open like his cockpit or whatever and try to put the jetpacks on the outside.

S: Yeah, I mean, then again, Spike is apparently superhuman and easily able to pick up and use giant robot guns. Also they're at a low enough, uh, altitude that, like, they wouldn't go through decompression.

O: Decompression wasn't actually what I was worried about. It's still that Powerglide would still be going fast, at least, to some degree because he's still up in the air and-

S: That's true.

O: That was actually more of what I would be, like, the jet pack should have like, gotten ripped out of their hands before they could attach them to him.

S: Oh, I know, it's just I'm trying to use a suspension of disbelief right now.

O: [Laughter] Yes, let me just turn my entire brain off because that's the only way I'm making it through this episode.

S: [Laughter] Yeah, I mean, I've seen that episode of, I don't know, Aircraft Disasters about when the [a] cockpit [window] blew out on a major jetliner and they nearly lost one of the pilots.

O: Yeah. Over the radio, Megatron wants ALL of the energy before he'll return the airwaves to the humans. Blaster, somehow during all this, manages to play the rock music from before clueing Carly into that he is on- he's in the Decepticon base and she is, somehow, from this, able to figure out they're on the moon.

S: I think we have to assume that there might have been some location data embedded in the transmission. Either that or there's some special Carly- foo going on.

O: Which, I mean, it's Carly- sure there- there you go. I will suspend my disbelief for anything Carly wants to do. How about that?

S: Yeah, and then Powerglide’s, like, “Oh, no I'm not a damn spaceship!”

O: The one thing Powerglide can't do.

S: [Laughter]

O: But he does manage to grab, you know, the knocked out, unconscious Optimus with his tow cable from the air- dragging Optimus- still unconscious and extremely undignified, behind him, at least until the jet packs start to go out.

S: Had we noted that Optimus had been knocked out before this? Because I don't remember that.

O: I said- I think we said that they were attacked but, uh, not that Optimus specifically got knocked out.

S: Okay- it's just because, yeah, that image of him being dragged, undignified, through the air is just really funny. [Laughter]

O: [Laughter] It was very funny to behold.

S: The Autobots on the mountain dig themselves out of the snow when they receive Blaster’s communique and head out to drop the humans off. Presumably somewhere safer than a giant, driving Decepticon target.

O: Yeah, that is Ratchet. Uh, Powerglide manages to get Optimus to where Omega Supreme is and Carly attempts to get Prime up and moving again.

S: Omega Supreme says they should go to the moon to save their friends and stows Prime away inside him.

O: They argue that they can't communicate with anyone right now due to Megatron's interference, anyway so they should at least try something.

S: In the very next shot, Carly and Spike are magically in some space suits and they board Omega with Powerglide. And these are color-coded space suits.

O: Of course, it's the 80’s. Megatron finds out that Blaster is transmitting this music and goes to blast him but Omega Supreme lands and distracts him just in time. Okay. Remember before, when we said Omega Supreme splits into three pieces? Uh, only one of those pieces went up to the moon.

S: But, somehow, all of them are there when he transforms back into a robot.

O: So either they fly or they're all just like Optimus’ trailer.

S: Yeah or he's got some way of, like, picking them up and combining them all with his shuttle form. I don't know, man. Don't ask. Megatron gets mad but Omega just picks him up in one hand.

O: He's so tiny in comparison! [Laughter]

S: Yeah, if he's treating him like a- oh god, it's like that Mars Attacks comic where Megatron gets shrunken.

O: [Laughter] Yeah, it is. He's about- he's so tiny.

S: Yep, Astrotrain looks on like, “I don't know what anyone expects me to do here.” And Optimus is just sort of lying on the ground on a pallet in the background while Powerglide just sort of hangs out and watches all of this go down.

O: [Laughter] Just like, “No, no- we just need to get Omega to the moon. We'll be fine!” Astrotrain transforms into his train mode and trips Omega, making him drop Megatron.

S: He then transforms into a shuttle and flies off with Omega transforming and going after him.

O: But on the ground, at least someone here is using this time somewhat effectively as Megatron takes the opportunity to walk over and kick the unconscious Optimus on the ground.

S: But Optimus is able to get back up and tosses Megatron across the moon. Optimus is just like, “What the fuck is going on? How did I get here?”

O: The dude went to sleep on the ground, at an airport and woke up on the damn moon.

S: Poor Optimus is going to need some explanations.

O: But right now he's like, “Big, gray, and ugly: must punch.”

S: [Laughter] Blaster manages to start affecting the Galaxer by initiating a feedback loop but Cosmos one-ups him and just shoots it.

O: Why did no one disable his guns!?! Why is no one guarding them!?A

S: Because Megatron only brought, like, three people to the moon and sent two of them back and also overconfidence.

O: Yeah, that sounds right, rather- Yeah, accepted, yeah.

S: Outside, Megatron and Optimus grapple and, considering they're on the moon, this must be really awkward considering lower gravity.

O: [Laughter] Well, it goes something like: Blah, blah, blah- I still have enough energy to conquer you!! Do you now, Optimus? Do you? Do you?

S: Optimus manages to get the upper hand. While in the air, Astrotrain taunts Omega.

O: But Omega just transforms back into robot mode, grabs Astrotrain and then chucks him into space.

S: Megatron flies off and the rest of the crew heads into the base to help Blaster and Cosmos.

O: Blaster advocates that they should keep the moon base now that they have it.

S: Cosmos seems kind of happy with this. He wants, you know, some company.

O: So Optimus tells Blaster, “Yes,” but also adds, “remember your volume, like any capability, is also a responsibility.”

S: Blaster's like, “I'm gonna totally ignore you,” as he immediately hits one of the buttons on his chest. Uh, presumably, he's supposed to be playing music but there's no music playing.

O: And that's- that's the end of the episode. So join us next time for a Decepticon Raider in King Arthur's Court! Did you know magic was real in this universe? Yeah, neither did we.

S: Neither did the robots from outer space, either.

O: Nobody- nobody saw- no one ever expects the magic inquisition. So, if you have seen any of our Let's Plays, uh, my husband Chezni will be joining us on this episode, too, because it's his favorite and it is definitely quite a doozy. So, I believe we have some fanfic recommendations for today.

S: Okie dokie, alright. So our fanfiction recommendations today are “Hobbies Shared” by Merfilly. It's a G1 cartoon related- it's in the G1 cartoon continuity, it's rated G, it's Gen. Uh, there's no pairings and the characters are Cosmos and Blaster and, in summary, “Cosmos shares something with Blaster.” And, uh, the theme for that is music appreciation and it's a one shot that's drabblish. It's pretty short. It's also restricted access on AO3, so you have to have an AO3 account to- to read it. It was pretty cute.

The second recommendation is “Mechs Like Them” by eerian_sadow. It's also G1 cartoon, rated G, Gen though it could be potentially pre-slash. There's no official pairings but could be a prelude to Blaster/Cosmos and the characters are Blaster, Cosmos, and Tracks. In summary, “Blaster can't stop worrying about Cosmos.” And it's post Blaster Blues is the recommendation or reason for the recommendation. Theme. Something. And it's a one shot. So that concludes the two recommendations for this week.

O: And I should have some fanart for us today, so uh, my recommendation for today is Pell From Hell. I don't know why they named themselves that but I am down for it. They have a Tumblr and a Twitter and, just a warning, they have not been active since 2018. However, the art is very cute. And today we've linked some really cute ones. Uh, we- we have a Knife Megatron, which is amazing and I- what? This is based off a cat gif, isn't it?

S: Yes, it is. My first thought when I saw the name was- is it- is it that thing with the baby holding a knife running- or the kid holding a knife running [around a pool] and they're like, “What are you holding?” “A knife!” and it's like, “No!”

O: [Laughter] No!

S: I was thinking that with Megatron.

O: [Laughter]

S: But yeah, the smug cat works perfectly for this.

O: Right? Even though it's Lost Light Megatron and, therefore, one of the lesser smug Megatrons but still funny!

S: Yeah, but, I mean, this would be like being confronted by a bunch of Autobots.

O: [Laughter] Yeah, and then we have some cute, uh, mistletoe christmas-y, uh, Dratchet, uh, where I think Ratchet just wants some tea and Drift is trying to get a kiss.

S: Yes, that is cute.

O: And our last one is the Soundwave family. Uh, it looks like Rumble and Frenzy are about ready to fight and Soundwave is just dealing with his unruly children.

S: And Ravage is separating them.

O: And the birds are like, “Oh, dear god, why?”

S: Yeah.

O: Not that i can really blame them.

S: Looks like Buzzsaw is super annoyed.

O: Yeah, very grumpy. He’s a grumpy birb. Anyway, we'll be linking to all of the cute images and their Tumblr and Twitter.

S: And that about wraps it up for us today. Remember to check us out on Tumblr or Pillowfort as Afterspark-Podcast for any additional information, show notes, or links we may have mentioned. You can also find us on Facebook and Twitter at AftersparkPod (all one word) and various other locations by searching for Afterspark Podcast such as AO3, iTunes, Spotify, and Youtube, just to name a few. And feel free to send us questions on Tumblr, or Youtube, or AO3! Till next time, I'm Specs.

O: And I’m Owls.

S: Toodles

[Outro Music]

#transcript #g1 episode 37 #podcast #afterspark podcast

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aion-rsa · 4 years

Text

How Psych Evolved Through the Character of Carlton Lassiter

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Early on in the Psych pilot, Shawn Spencer’s (James Roday Rodriguez) ludicrous plot to impersonate a psychic in order to solve crime suddenly takes on grave stakes: Chief Vick (Kirsten Nelson) informs him that if he’s lying, he’ll be prosecuted for hindering a police investigation. Just like that, he’s locked into his lie, and has no choice but to let it snowball—into a private eye business with his best friend Burton Guster (Dulé Hill), but also into a lucrative consultancy gig for the Santa Barbara Police Department that, psychic antics be damned, legitimately saves lives.

But while it’s the Chief who put the fear of God into Shawn, the true threat to his secret was always one Carlton Jebediah Lassiter (Timothy Omundson). In the early seasons, Lassiter was the perfect foil: a by-the-book detective obsessed with proper procedure and with hypermasculinity, who had patience for neither Gus’ high-pitched squeals nor Shawn’s supernatural “hunches.” The fake psychic’s obnoxious theatrics were nothing without an exasperated reaction from Carlton… especially as those hunches kept paying off and making this old dog all the more self-conscious about his own inability to learn new tricks.

Even moreso than their eventual tango duet in Psych: The Musical, Shawn and Lassie’s song has always been the Psych theme:

I know, you know, that I’m not telling the truth

I know, you know, they just don’t have any proof

Embrace the deception, learn how to bend

Your worst inhibitions tend to psych you out in the end

Yet even as Lassiter delighted in watching Shawn get shown up by other fake psychics and even threatened to be the one to someday catch him in the act, over the course of the series this seeming antagonist shifted into a comic relief role and eventually a truly sympathetic figure. As Carlton became Lassie, so too did Psych grow beyond its cheeky premise, from a potentially one-note episodic show to a serialized dramedy about a found family solving crimes in all manner of unconventional ways—a connection that was cemented in Psych: The Movie and now in Psych 2: Lassie Come Home.

It started with Shawn noticing that Lassie needed help, even if he would never say so outright—when he encountered the detective, drunk and loose-lipped and off his game, in “From the Earth to Starbucks.” Not only was he confounded by Shawn’s skills, Lassiter confessed, but it made him feel worse about the fact that he couldn’t solve what he believed was the murder of a local astronomer who seemingly died of natural causes. Shawn, Gus, and Juliet (Maggie Lawson) spent the rest of that episode surreptitiously helping Lassiter solve what was indeed a murder, all while throwing him clues without him realizing. There was a noticeable absence of Shawn’s psychic shtick in that season 1 episode, since the point was to give Lassiter all the credit, which meant making it look like Lassiter’s way of working. Shawn didn’t have to perform, aside from moments of conspiring with Jules, because it was very much a case of What Would Lassie Do?

Movies

Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Easter Egg and Reference Guide

By Natalie Zutter

Movies

Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Review

By Natalie Zutter

By the time “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing” in season 3 and was the prime suspect in a criminal’s death, he knew he had no choice but to bring Psych in where the SBPD wouldn’t investigate. And in the case of “Last Night Gus” in season 6—well, it was in everyone’s best interests to solve the mystery of that Hangover-esque night. Over the years, viewers discovered along with Shawn, Gus, and Jules various Lassie quirks: He works out his daddy issues by dressing up as his Civil War ancestor and an archetypal cowboy. He enjoys tap dancing with Gus because it helps him sort through his thoughts. He falls in love with Marlowe (Kristy Swanson) despite her criminal record. He shares more and more of himself with these colleagues who become friends and then family. In turn, he comes to, if not actually believe in, then at least accept the idiosyncrasies of Psych—because like it or not, it makes his professional and personal lives better. At the same time, Shawn’s lie quietly explodes his relationship with Juliet, as it makes her doubt that he was telling her the truth about anything. Even after they reconcile, the ramifications of almost losing her cause Shawn to pull back from automatically playing the psychic card.

And then Lassiter winds up shot and recovering in a hospital bed, helpless in the most Hitchcockian fashion at the start of Psych 2, and there’s no question about who he’ll call.

Clearly creator Steve Franks and the other writers made the decision that if they were to have Lassiter as a presence in Psych’s present, they had no choice but to draw from Omundson’s personal experience recovering from a debilitating stroke. Yet it’s eerie how well this dramatic arc fits Lassiter’s character—Lassie, who may have become a big teddy bear by the end of the series, but who is still obsessed with (heterosexual, able-bodied) notions of supposed manliness. Carlton “Danger” Lassiter, who once said he would go out “in a hailstorm of bullets” if it meant catching a criminal. Now he has to face the knowledge that he may never walk again.

Interestingly, Juliet is not the one whose help Lassiter specifically requests, despite their history as partners. In fact, it’s likely their shared experience that makes him reluctant to put her in that position; if there’s someone that Carlton would be afraid to be exposed in front of, it’s his former mentee. How can he reconcile asking the one-time junior detective whom he showed the ropes to adapt to a situation where he’s still getting his bearings? To wit, he puts her off with a to-do list of errands—a throwback to their early days together, when he frequently invited her to “shut it” or otherwise stay in her lane.

Thankfully, one of the many lessons Juliet took from their time together in the field was to not obey orders when she knows she’s on to something. And so she returns to the scene of the crime where Lassiter was shot, follows up on ballistics, and locates the missing puzzle piece of the second bullet. Shawn and Gus get the ghosts, but Jules gets the shooter. Between being confined to his hospital room, and in the face of Jules’ own stubborn tenacity, Lassiter couldn’t have stopped her if he tried. In many ways, accepting help not asked for demands even more vulnerability from him.

What’s most fascinating about Shawn and Gus’ investigation in Lassie Come Home is that not for a moment do they bullshit Lassiter. This isn’t a case for Psych, it’s an act of love from two close friends—absolutely no psychic spectacle necessary. Now, one could argue that Shawn wouldn’t have even thought to make up a vision because, as far as he knows, Lassiter watched his goodbye video (in the series finale) all the way to the end, where he confessed the truth behind how he manages to solve so many crimes.

Instead, right before Shawn could give Lassiter the answer he’d dreamed of hearing for eight seasons, the detective popped out the DVD and broke it in half. At the time, this moment in the Psych canon, arguably more than his relationship with Marlowe or his identity as a father, was when Lassiter experienced his greatest character growth: He would rather pause time, to focus on all the good that Shawn had accomplished through his lie, than be right.

But time can’t stay paused forever; and if Lassiter is being clear-eyed about how Shawn solves his baffling hospital sightings in Lassie Come Home, then he also has no illusions about his inability to solve his own mystery alone. He can contribute his observations—credible and not—and draw his own conclusions, but he has to trust Shawn, Gus, and Juliet to be his eyes, ears, and legs outside of the prison of his room. He also has to accept that he’s not always present in the crime-solving; there’s a recurring theme in which Lassiter, drifting on his meds, opens his eyes to Shawn and Gus, or Juliet, waiting expectantly for him to wake up and catch up. In one scene where Shawn goes to ask his advice about fatherhood, Lassie is completely asleep, an incredible display of vulnerability from both Lassiter and Omundson.

Yet as we learn in his final showdown with the murderous nurse Dolores (Sarah Chalke), just because Lassiter closes his eyes doesn’t mean he’s out for the count. The way he outwits her is Lassiter to a tee: Even while slipping away from the fatal morphine drip, he has enough wherewithal to grab one of three (three!) guns he had stashed in his hospital room—just like in “Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing.”

But this time, instead of being all cool and flipping the bullet into his hand, this Lassiter is babbling to the morphine-induced hallucination of his dead father (Joel McHale) about how much it hurt to lose him, about how he’s afraid he’ll leave his daughter to grow up without a father just like he did.

The moment is played for laughs, with Dolores’ face screwing up into incredulity—this guy has a gun pulled on her, and he’s still mumbling closure to his ghost dad? But for fans, it’s tantamount to the DVD moment: Lassiter has finally found the way to be unguarded, to embrace the ridiculousness of the present moment without self-consciousness, without losing sight of the perp. Even though he has the upper hand, he’s still scared about what he’s going to do when he gets out of this room. He can put away a killer, but he can’t predict his own future beyond the hospital.

Which makes his reunion with Marlowe—witnessed only by Jules and Henry (Corbin Bernsen)—all the more moving. Another character in another narrative wouldn’t have cared if he returned to his wife in a wheelchair, wouldn’t have agonized over mustering enough strength to stand face-to-face with her. But it’s Lassiter, with specific ideas about what it means to be a man, and for him that means looking Marlowe in the eye so they can press their hands together—this time not glass between them, nor either of their pasts, but this new challenge—in solidarity.

Lassiter’s not perfect: He has a lot of toxic masculinity left to unlearn, and he owns an appalling number of guns. He’s still more conservative than not. Because he’s a cop who becomes more sympathetic, his narrative contributes to the larger cultural trend of “copaganda” on television. It’s the same problematic issue that faces the characters on Brooklyn Nine-Nine: Even if he’s lovable, and especially because of this fact, his identity as a police officer complicates the conversation around his character growth.

But within the world of Psych, he’s a character with a worthwhile arc. Like Lassiter, the series started out following a strict formula, and only after it had relaxed into something stronger than its premise—its talented ensemble, ‘80s riffs, and library of delightful in-jokes and callbacks—could it grow beyond its initial form.

Speaking of in-jokes… For the 100-plus teases, hints, and outright cameos the series gave us of its signature symbol, we all failed to spot Psych’s most important pineapple appearance. Lassiter is the pineapple! Prickly on the outside, sweet (but still tart) on the inside. Often difficult to spot, but so rewarding to find. Case closed.

The post How Psych Evolved Through the Character of Carlton Lassiter appeared first on Den of Geek.

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