#i want to see what happens if every kid tragically dies without ever reaching road 96

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #my reads #monthly fic rec #monthly reads #completed fics #larry fics

[tessiete]

“Perhaps, I killed a Jedi and took it from him.” Clumsy fingers beneath sleek synth leather gloves close over the hilt, the silver of it glinting merrily in the grasp of a cold fist. “Impossible,” Lord Vader says. “I am growing tired of your games, boy. I shall only ask once more: who gave it to you?” “I cannot say,” he replies. “Cannot?” says Vader. “Or will not?” “I will not.” His voice is firm, and does not shake. He reaches again for that serenity: a flash of copper hair, [...] of blue eyes.

This is for the writer’s ask where you ask about 500 characters of one of my fics, and I do a deep dive analysis! <3 Thank you for indulging me.

Alright! Better late than never but I’ve been overthinking this because I DO SO LOVE process and meta! So let’s dive in. The commentary.

First of all, let me say that I am a huge proponent of  Korkie Kenobi - and yeah, I’d love to see it canonised - but I think my relationship with this character is a bit more nuanced than people give me credit for.

I was all for arospec/acespec Obi-Wan. That’s the canon I loved. And I was very much not interested in Satine when she first appeared in TCW. But the thing was, once it happened, once they introduced a love interest who played a significant enough role in the story, I felt I could either ignore it...or roll with it. See what it changed. See what it created.

Obviously, the relationship - on a surface level (and tbh probably the only level which the writers considered) is meant to mirror Anakin and Padme. They are the road not taken. Where Anakin and Padme chose each other, Obi-Wan and Satine chose their duties.

This is a...I don’t like this take as an exclusive one, and here’s why: it implies that Padme was also selfish, and made the wrong choice. And yet everything in canon tells us the opposite. She continued working. She jeopardised her career and her reputation to fight against the rise of the Empire. She gave her life trying to prevent it. To put her as a direct mirror of Satine is messy, and to me, cannot justify the creation of Satine enough to convince me.

But I also don’t want to throw away such a huge chunk of TCW narrative. So the other option is to reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally lean in.

At which point, you have to examine not just the immediate symbolism of the relationship, but what each character individually brings. You have to give Satine her own agency. She has to become her own person. Suddenly, all the little bits of information that would normally be overlooked become important. We get so little of her, that everything becomes significant.

And Korkie - who hangs around for a couple episodes, but otherwise has no real importance, suddenly becomes significant.

And that, for me, is the crux of the issue. I hate, hate, hate wasted story elements, and if Korkie is so superfluous as to be negligible, then why did we waste not just money, and time, but story on him. And if he is unimportant, then his relationship to Satine is unimportant. And if that relationship is insignificant, then we lose something integral and revealing about Satine, and now suddenly there is less of her to relate to Obi-Wan, and so anything revealed about him becomes less important, too.

Maybe this feels like a stretch, and maybe it is, but to me, Korkie feels very much like Chekhov’s gun.

And it would drive me CRAZY if he were to go unexamined, and unused.

So this whole story was an examination of “What does Korkie tell us about Obi-Wan that we didn’t know before? And what can Korkie tell us about Vader?”

Because what is Vader if not Obi-Wan’s Fallen son?

This was essentially the thesis for this piece: despite the fact that Vader/Anakin had all of Obi-Wan’s attention, love, and time it is Korkie who truly embodies the legacy of his father.

And while I know that “found family” is a massively important part in the SW universe, I think there’s a larger discussion to be had about other aspects of family. The answer isn’t always that Blood is Bad, and that heritage is shameful or unimportant. Sometimes, where you came from does matter. Some people do find strength, and pride, and hope, and motivation, and support in their origins - even if it’s something they’re divorced from in a physical or temporal way.

For me, Korkie is an opportunity to examine a father/son relationship where neither of the two people have an attachment beyond blood, but -

There is still one of love. 

But instead of Anakin’s selfish, possessive love for his family, both Obi-Wan and Korkie relate to each other, and treat each other with empathy, compassion, and respect. Their love is noble. Selfless. They put entire worlds before each other. And Korkie learned that from his dad.

A personal pet peeve is this constant depiction of kids whose parents are in high stakes jobs feeling neglected or abandoned. How many cop shows have bratty kids acting out because their dad is never home to share dinner? How many medical dramas show the children of doctors lashing out because mom spends more time at work than at ballet class? 

It drives me crazy.

As the child of a medical worker with an on-call schedule, I can say that neither I, nor my siblings, nor any of the other children of my mum’s coworkers have EVER felt neglected. We have never felt unfairly or selfishly entitled to our parents’ time. Because we knew - because someone (another parent? A grandparent? A teacher?) explained to us, and taught us at a young age that what our parents were doing was important. We understood that there were life or death stakes, and that we were very loved, and very much the priority - just not every second. Because sometimes, a life was on the line.

And Obi-Wan Kenobi was fighting to save a galaxy. 

I just cannot in any way believe that a child whose mother was a ruler of a planet plagued with civil unrest and a significant terrorist group, and whose father was a Jedi Master, and in charge of securing peace and freedom across the stars would ever be so selfish, and so uncompassionate as to begrudge the sacrifice of his parents.

Korkie Kenobi is an abject example of selfless love. The kind of love the Jedi aspire to. The kind of love that Anakin absolutely does not understand, and fails to embrace.

And it’s not because Qui-Gon died (Korkie never had that kind of paternal relationship), and it’s not because Shmi was killed (Korkie’s mother also dies tragically), but because of the maturity of the person, and the quality of Korkie’s character.

So to pit a Korkie just coming into his own as an adult, aware of his father, and recently bereaved of his mother against a Vader just coming into his own as a Sith…

That, to me, evoked very interesting narrative avenues to explore.

In this universe, Korkie and Obi-Wan have recently reconnected (Korkie having helped Boil retrieve Obi-Wan from an ill-advised trip to Mandalore where Obi-Wan learned that Anakin had become Vader for the first time), and they both know what they are to each other. Obi-Wan has begged for forgiveness, and given Korkie his lineage, and his legacy in the form of Qui-Gon’s lightsaber - something that Anakin never got. Vader wants it.

So let’s get into it:

“Perhaps, I killed a Jedi and took it from him.” 

This first line - it’s like poetry, it rhymes.

Vader asks where Korkie got the blade, and Korkie replies...in Qui-Gon’s words. He doesn’t know this, of course. It’s just a coincidence. But the remains of Anakin hear it. Anakin recognises it, and it galls him that this boy - Obi-Wan’s replacement of him - seems to be able to claim the lineage he wishes he had. Korkie is stealing his family. And he doesn’t know them. He doesn’t deserve them. He’s not entitled to them the way Anakin is. 

And this is also one of the first things Anakin ever heard a Jedi say. This was the beginning of Qui-Gon’s promise. This is a moment in which Anakin first thought he might find salvation. It was the start of his life, in some ways. This was pure, good, and trusting Anakin Skywalker. 

It’s an absolute anathema to him, now. Now, when he’s lost everything. When he’s filled with doubt, and hate, and fear, and suffering. It makes him angry. Because he doesn’t want to see that he was Korkie. He doesn’t want to see that he had this chance, and blew it. And Korkie - who never had Qui-Gon, who never had Obi-Wan - can speak the words without even (in Anakin’s mind) earning them.

Also, and most obviously, Anakin killed the Jedi. And yet...he didn’t kill Obi-Wan. He did not kill that Jedi, and take this blade.

Korkie is alive. Obi-Wan is alive. Anakin resents it. Obi-Wan should not exist without him. Obi-Wan should have no legacy but Vader. Because Anakin doesn’t. 

Clumsy fingers beneath sleek synth leather gloves close over the hilt, the silver of it glinting merrily in the grasp of a cold fist. 

To me, it was important that we see the weakness of Vader. His hands are not his own. The flesh of Anakin Skywalker is gone, and beneath the serenity of the mask, and the shadow of black, he’s fumbling. Korkie’s wrong-footed him, and he feels young, and insufficient in the face of this boy. This is all about Anakin’s insecurity.

Korkie speaking words he shouldn’t know - speaking in the voice of a literal Jedi - so calm, and so collected (negotiating with the serenity of his father) scares Anakin. He’s hearing and seeing the ghosts of the people he betrayed. 

And the blade itself is merry because it belongs in the hand of Korkie. It knows (and the narrative knows) that it won’t be long in Vader’s grasp. It transcends the dark. It glints, and is optimistic. It’s a symbol of faith. It’s delight in being claimed by Korkie is symbolic of Qui-Gon’s own approval of his legacy. Qui-Gon Jinn chooses Korkie Kenobi.

But the thing is, it’s not because he’s a Kenobi. It’s because he chooses to act, and speak like a Jedi. Anakin fears - and knows - he never received this blade because Qui-Gon Jinn would not approve of what he’s done. This is Qui-Gon’s repudiation of Anakin Skywalker. The blade is laughing at Anakin.

“Impossible,” Lord Vader says. “I am growing tired of your games, boy. I shall only ask once more: who gave it to you?”

And then Anakin answers the same way he did as a child. He is still a selfish, defiant, fearful child. He denies the possibility that Korkie could have killed a Jedi. 

Now, of course, he knows that the Jedi are dead, he knows that Korkie is not a Jedi, and he’s also denying the possibility that Korkie could have done it.

And, more than that, he’s denying the very possibility that Korkie could speak - could somehow know - Qui-Gon’s words. There is no way that this boy should be speaking with that voice. It’s impossible.

It’s a three-fold denial.

As a more technical thing, Vader’s voice was really hard for me to do, because this Vader still had to be recognisable as Anakin. He’s only been Vader for about a year at this point, maybe a little longer, and he’s just been thrown back into his childhood by memory, so the voice had to hit this balance point between Anakin and Vader.

This is an Anakin who uses language to build himself up. He doesn’t quite buy his own authority - it is so easily undercut by an unarmed boy, here, after all - so he makes himself sound like the seat of power...Obi-Wan. He mimics the slightly elevated phrasing of his former master, and condescends, calling him “boy”. He speaks to Korkie in the voice of Korkie’s father. But it’s distorted, and clunky because it is not Anakin’s voice to claim. And he hasn’t had all the practice that the next 18 years will provide him with, yet.

So theoretically, if I did it right, the motivation - the drive of the sentence - is Anakin, but the pattern is an echo of Obi-Wan.

I also think this is probably the third time Vader’s asked Korkie (iirc), and that’s just a classic storytelling technique - things, especially questions, lessons, or events, happen three times. 

Korkie replies differently every time.

“I cannot say,” he replies.

So, at first, Korkie answered a question with a question. He was brash, young, and openly defiant. He replied in the way that Anakin or Obi-Wan may have if they’d been captured. He asked who Vader was. He didn’t know him - he doesn’t know him.

Vader is his brother, and yet Vader - Anakin - has been erased. His own family doesn’t know him. Has no reason to. He isn’t a person anymore. He’s a monster with no face, no name, no history, and no future. He has no claim to his own past.

Then, when Vader asks again, Korkie asks why it matters.

It’s a slight change of tactic, but one that Korkie thinks might put him on a more even playing field. If he knows why it’s important, then maybe they can work out a deal. Maybe he can...negotiate. Again, Vader hears shades of Obi-Wan’s cunning in this kid’s voice.

It also forces Vader to confront the reason he wants this blade - but that reason is intimately connected to Anakin. So Korkie is humanising him. He’s offering Vader a piece of himself. But Vader won’t take it.

Then, after Korkie’s spoken like Qui-Gon, Vader asks again, and Korkie denies him utterly. He cannot say. It’s impossible. It’s something beyond his control.

“Cannot?” says Vader. “Or will not?” 

“I will not.” His voice is firm, and does not shake.

Or is it? Because then, Korkie does what Vader does not. He takes responsibility for his choice. It’s not out of his hands. He’s choosing - deliberately, and decisively - to deny Vader. And he does not flinch. He does not hide. He looks into Vader’s face, knowing he might condemn himself to suffering, and death, and chooses that.

This is Korkie as a Jedi. He makes the same sacrifice the Jedi make - he looks into the Dark and chooses the Light.

And in this instance, he has replaced Anakin because he’s protecting Obi-Wan. Korkie is at Obi-Wan’s back. Korkie is making a choice to shield the person he loves - though he hardly knows him - because it is right. He loves freely, and selflessly. He loves Obi-Wan in a way that Anakin betrayed, but Korkie will not betray Obi-Wan here.

 He reaches again for that serenity: a flash of copper hair, of soft robes, of blue eyes. 

Korkie Kenobi is Force sensitive. Of course, he is. He is the culmination of a series of Light choices, and selfless sacrifice. He, at the end of the Clone Wars, comes out as the very thing they were fighting for. It’s not lost. Obi-Wan isn’t lost - he still shaped Korkie. He still saved something - something of the Force, something of the Light, and something of himself. He saved Satine. He saved the Jedi. He’s not fought and sacrificed in vain.

And so, though it is still rough, and untrained, though, like his relationship with his father, it’s still new, Korkie instinctively seeks to soothe himself, to find peace, so stay calm. In this moment where he is confronted with a Sith Lord, alone, and unarmed he chooses to reach for peace…

And his peace, his hope, is Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He reaches for his dad.

Just like Obi-Wan reaches out for Qui-Gon’s ghost. Just like Anakin reaches out for Obi-Wan (seriously can’t have one conversation without mentioning him). Just like Luke reaches out for Anakin.

Korkie seeks comfort in the Force through the person he most finds solace in. And it doesn’t matter that he and Obi-Wan are nearly strangers, because they choose not to be. And because Obi-Wan is the ideal that Korkie strives for.

Obi-Wan has taught him something about serenity, and bravery, and hope. So when Korkie thinks of calm, and thinks of making his father proud, he sees Obi-Wan. Just flashes in his memory.

And the colours of Obi-Wan are symbolic - the fire of his hair, the chaos of the galaxy and war, the colour of the sand on Tatooine, the heat of its suns, and the shared blood between them. The blue of his eyes like water in the desert, an oasis, a salvation, an open sea, the clear sky, something vast and all encompassing and cool. The soft robes are an embrace. Obi-Wan is a home in the Force.

(Ironically, this is also what Anakin as Vader thinks of, and is thinking of because he also knows Obi-Wan, and so the next beat of this scene shows Vader and Korkie accidentally sharing thoughts. An easy mistake, as they’re essentially running into each other at the same restaurant!)

ANYWAY -

A, um, brief analysis of this passage from Or Else I Shall Be Lost

I hope you enjoyed it!!! And thank you so much @tree-scapes for tagging me!!!!! 

#korkie kenobi #meta #sw fic #obi-wan kenobi #korkie #darth vader #writers #gffa #anakin skywalker #qui-gon jinn

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Final Chapter

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Author’s note: Holy hell I can’t believe it’s already over. Even though this fanfic wasn’t as long as some of my other ones, I still really enjoyed writing it for you guys, and I wanted to say thanks to those of you who stuck around this long. I hope you enjoy this last chapter, and I hope you’ll be there for other stories too :)

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

THE NEXT MORNING

MOUNT HAGEN

Emptiness. Silence. Isolation.

These were the new foundations of the world.

As the lonely breeze howled loudly in the wind, and the pale sun climbed higher in the never-ending sky, Isaac remained seated in the sea of snow, devoid of any hope that once lived inside him.

He was alone. 

Just like before.

After fifteen years of battling with his grief and growing up with an insatiable sense of hatred, history had repeated itself all over again. 

Only this time... Isaac didn’t care.

He couldn’t find a reason to.

Without Arthur at his side, or Eliza to help guide him, the boy felt completely lost. He felt like the world was swallowing him whole, and the longer he stared aimlessly at the distant horizon, the more he wondered if there was any point in reaching the border.

How did he know that wouldn’t experience the same kind of pain in Canada? What guarantee did he have that the people he met in the future wouldn’t simply disappear like everyone else had?

The last thing Isaac wanted to do was abandon his father’s final wish... but he didn’t know if he had the strength to continue anymore.

He had already fought for so long, and yet, the end of the road didn’t appear to be any closer.

Forcing himself up from the cold ground, Isaac steadily rose to his feet and patted some snow off his coat before continuing to trudge across the unforgiving terrain, feeling more and more exhausted with every step.

He hadn’t slept ever since Arthur died, and with the amount of people hunting him down in these mountains, Isaac didn’t dare lower his gun for a moment.

Agent Fordham may have been kind enough to let him go, but even then, Isaac knew he was far from safe. He still had Dutch and Micah to worry about, and top of that, there was also the fact that Agent Ross had probably figured out by now that Isaac was still alive.

He was going to have to reach the border as soon as possible, and without any mistakes.

Slowly making his way up a steep hill, Isaac clutched his rifle close to his chest and examined the area ahead of him, keeping an eye out for any possible threats.

There was a small group of shacks sitting atop the hill -- all of which seemed abandoned -- but the young man noticed a fresh trail of footprints leading up to one of them. It looked like someone had passed through here recently, and judging by the dying campfire that was gradually withering away outside, Isaac assumed they were still nearby.

He cocked his firearm, prepared to shoot anything that moved.

Part of Isaac simply wanted to leave the cabins alone and carry on, but with the level of fatigue that was currently overtaking his body, the boy knew he needed to rest lest he collapse somewhere in the wilderness.

Gently pushing the cabin’s door open, Isaac carefully stepped inside and observed his surroundings, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

So far, the only thing to greet the young man was a lifeless room filled with nothing but a dead fireplace, and a collection of cracked windows. There were visible specks of dust floating in the sunbeams that seeped through the glass, and on the wall opposite to him, Isaac spotted another door.

It didn’t seem like anyone was home at the moment, so he continued to settle in.

Just before Isaac could take another step however, a bullet came flying through one of the windows and zipped mere centimeters past his ear, causing him to jump backwards.

He immediately slammed the front door shut and took cover, hiding behind a nearby wall.

Isaac didn’t even have a chance to see his attacker’s face before they attempted to shoot him, but just based on the muffled voice he heard talking to him afterwards, the young man knew exactly who it was.

“Well, would you look at that...” his assailant said from outside. “Here I am searchin’ high and low through these goddamn mountains -- freezin’ my ass off just to find you -- and you show up right on my doorstep. Now ain’t that a surprise?”

Isaac peeked through the window’s dusty glass, keeping an eye on the other man as he approached the cabin.

“Fuck off, Micah.” He replied. “I ain’t doin’ this with you. Not now.”

Micah laughed at that. “Why not? Lost your nerve now that daddy ain’t here to protect you? I thought you was a tough boy.” He glanced around for a bit, shrugging in curiosity. “Speakin’ of which, where is the old man? I figured he’d be wanderin’ around here with you. Hard for me to imagine the two of you splittin’ up. Somethin’ happen to him...?”

Isaac clenched his jaw in anger. “...You know damn well what happened. You caused it. Agent Ross found us ‘cause of you.”

The outlaw sighed melodramatically. “Ah, so them government boys got him in the end. Tragic. Arthur always struck me as the type who woulda fancied himself dyin’ in a more heroic fashion. Like in the fairytales. Guess he weren’t so big and bad, after all.”

Isaac subtly reached for his knife, preparing to attack Micah once he got near the door.

“He was still strong enough to beat you.”

Micah grinned in response. “Hmm, well... I just hope the same can be said for you. You’re a strong kid, Isaac. But you’re in for a rude awakenin’ once Dutch gets here. He won’t let you leave these mountains alive...” The man took out his weapon, preparing to strike. “And neither will I.”

Leaping out from cover, Isaac bolted to the front door and slammed it open right before Micah could barge in, bashing the other man in the face as he tumbled to the ground.

Meanwhile, Isaac took advantage of the opening and yanked his knife out, slicing it downwards as he tried to aim for the man’s throat. Just before he could press the knife into his skin however, Micah reached up and grabbed Isaac’s wrists in resistance, pushing back as the two of them wrestled for power.

“Fiery little shit, ain’t you?” Micah growled through bloodied teeth. “You can fight me all you want, boy... but that won’t bring your daddy back. He’s long gone, I’m afraid...!”

Isaac felt a familiar sense of hatred growing inside him again, motivating him to push down even harder.

“You shut your goddamn mouth, Micah!”

The older man chuckled deviously. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I strike a nerve? Heh. You’s your daddy’s son, alright. All emotion and no brains. It’s no wonder he’s dead now, just like that whore of a mother you had.”

Isaac let out a strained groan, fervently trying to force the blade into Micah’s neck as his arms began to quiver.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a worthless snake, Micah...! And I’m gonna make sure you die like one.”

Micah’s grin grew even wider at that. “Ah, now that’s the Isaac I know. You strut around pretendin’ to be a better man than the rest of us, but really, you’re just another killer deep down, ain’t you, princess? Same as Shay. Well, c’mon then. Show me what you got...!”

Mustering all the strength in his body, Micah easily shoved Isaac’s lean frame off of him and kicked the boy in the gut, causing him to reel back. In the meantime, Micah got up from the ground and took his own hunting knife out, slashing the weapon wildly at Isaac.

“There’s winners, and losers!” He shouted, stepping forward as the boy dodged his attacks. “Nothin’ else besides.”

Ducking under one of Micah’s swings, Isaac barely missed the edge of his blade and prepared to strike him with a counterattack, only to receive a gash to the cheek when the other man followed up with a second slice.

Stumbling backwards, Isaac watched as a few droplets of blood trickled from his face and onto the white snow beneath him, spreading in a manner similar to an ink blot.

He was already feeling worn out from trying to keep up with Micah’s vicious speed, but for the sake of making sure his father wouldn’t die in vain, Isaac refused to give up. 

He brought his attention back to the outlaw, gripping the hilt of his knife even tighter than before.

“You’re wrong about my father. He did die as a hero. He died protectin’ me...” Isaac held the blade in front of him, making sure that Micah wouldn’t come close. “...But you? You’re gonna die as a rat. A traitor. Your corpse’ll become nothin’ but food for the vultures, and ain’t no one gonna give a shit about you.”

Micah smirked at the statement. “Oh, we’re all gonna die someday, cowboy. But at least my pockets will be heavier when that time comes.”

Leaping at each other, the two of them engaged in one last fight to the death as the snow danced wildly around them, coating everything behind a layer of ice. The sun was barely breaking through the clouds now, and as more time went on, Isaac could feel the weather hindering his movements more and more.

His limbs were becoming stiff in the cold, and his skin had nearly gone numb from the freezing wind that chewed through it. 

But despite all the obstacles he faced, Isaac remained adamant in his mission to kill Micah and persisted with the battle, determined to put him in the ground.

Throwing a punch at the older man, Isaac buried his knuckles in Micah’s jaw and stunned him for a moment, allowing him to turn the tide of the fight. He tackled the outlaw to the snow and pinned him down with his own weight, beating the man the same way Arthur once did.

Instead of trying to block Isaac’s attacks however, Micah resorted to a quicker solution and simply jabbed his knife into the boy’s leg, causing him to shout in agony as blood began to seep through his clothes.

Isaac frantically tried to think through the pain, but was swiftly interrupted when Micah hurled him off to the side and climbed on top of him, switching their positions.

He hurriedly yanked the blade out of Isaac’s leg and diverted it to his throat, but was stopped halfway when the boy pushed back in a desperate attempt to keep the knife from reaching his neck.

“You’re pathetic, Morgan...!” Micah snarled. “Sure, you’re real tough when it comes to killin’ fools, but against anyone else, you’re just a scared little boy tryin’ to survive in a man’s world.”

Isaac groaned in effort, grinding his teeth together as he clutched Micah’s wrists with an iron grip.

“You don’t know... the first thing about me...! I don’t wanna be a killer... but for you -- I’ll make an exception...!”

Using every bit of strength that he had left in him, Isaac forcibly pushed Micah further away from him and stretched his arms out, putting some distance between his neck and the blade.

He wanted to make sure he had enough space to roll out from underneath him before making his next move, but with a new wound now throbbing in his leg, Isaac couldn’t deny that he was feeling weaker and weaker by the minute.

Giving Micah another firm shove, the boy finally managed to get him at a reasonable distance and slid free from his grasp, moving out of the way just as the man’s knife impaled the ground.

Isaac scrambled across the snow and reached for his gun, whipping it straight out of the holster as the other man came charging at him.

He only had once chance to kill Micah before he’d be on top of him again, but in spite of the risks, Isaac decided it’d best to rely on his gun rather than his strength. He barely had any energy left in him, after all, and based how much blood he was losing, the boy wasn’t sure if he could keep this up for much longer.

He aimed the barrel directly at Micah’s head, getting ready to shoot the man.

Bang.

A single gunshot thundered throughout the entire region.

Micah’s body came to a halt, and his eyes widened in pure shock.

There was a deathly gap in the fast rhythm of his breath, and within a few moments, the man’s face had been drained of all life. 

What confused Isaac however, was that he had yet to pull the trigger.

Collapsing to the ground, Micah toppled over into the snow and landed on his side, revealing a third person standing behind him.

He remained paralyzed on the ground and simply lay there in bewilderment, glancing upwards at the man who just put a bullet in his back.

“...Dutch...” Micah wheezed, glaring fearfully at him. “You... shot me...”

The other man stepped next to his fallen comrade, solemnly looking down at him as a trail of smoke rose from his revolver.

“...Not soon enough, I’m afraid.”

Watching as Micah drew his final breath, Dutch stood above him in silence and simply towered over the man, finally witnessing the revenge he had thirsted for for so long.

He had known for a while now that there was a traitor within the gang, but he never had his suspicions confirmed until he read Bill’s goodbye letter.

The drunken fool had been kind enough to leave a note before he took off, and Dutch knew that if he wanted to catch Micah by surprise, he’d have to keep the warning a secret.

So, time after time, he pretended to be oblivious to the snake’s deeds and blindly went along with his plans, only to find him wrestling with the son of the very man he wished he had never pushed away to begin with.

It was a step closer to finding his redemption, he thought... and yet, Dutch felt as if he had taken two steps back. 

That was the price of vengeance he supposed. But he no longer cared.

Pushing his thoughts aside for the moment, Dutch suddenly remembered that he still had Isaac to deal with and brought his attention back to the boy, aiming the gun at him.

It looked like Micah had already injured him quite a bit during their fight, but even then, Dutch knew better than to let his guard down.

He carefully approached the young man, making sure to keep him in place.

“...Arthur’s not with you?” He noted. 

Isaac remained seated in the snow, shaking his head.

“...No.” He answered quietly. “He’s... he’s dead.”

Dutch’s expression sank with worry.

“...Dead?” He asked, mortified. “How? What happened?”

The young man slowly rose to his feet, careful not to alert Dutch.

“The Pinkertons cornered us just outside of Lake Isabella. Ross ended up shootin’ him. I...” Isaac’s tone softened with regret, “...I couldn’t save him.”

Dutch steadily lowered his gun in disbelief and gazed aimlessly at the view beyond the horizon, furrowing his brow in anguish.

He couldn’t believe it.

Just when he started to right the wrongs of his past, and regain some of the integrity he passed onto others... the most important person in his life had been taken away.

He treated Arthur like a complete stranger the last time he saw him, and to make matters worse, he never even had the chance to say goodbye.

All Dutch had left of the man was a broken collection of memories, and an abandoned journal that was full of unfinished thoughts.

He brought his gaze back to Isaac, observing the boy’s striking resemblance to his father.

Perhaps... there was more of Arthur in him than Dutch originally thought. Maybe it was time to put his feelings about the young man in the past, and move on with his life.

He had nothing left to fight for, after all. His mission for vengeance was completed the minute Micah’s heart came to a stop, and with Arthur dead... there was no need to worry about confronting the man any longer.

The only thing Dutch could do for his late son now was take care of the one person who still survived him, and help him flourish in a world that was so willing to kill him.

He reached down and retrieved Arthur’s fallen hat from the ground, quietly traipsing over to the boy as he patted some snow off its rim.

“Y’know what, Isaac,” Dutch said with a cough, “...I wish I could’ve realized this sooner, but...” he handed the hat to Isaac, “...you’re the last person I want dead.”

The young man took the hat into his grasp, admittedly at a loss for words.

“I-- thank you, Dutch. I won’t lie. I didn’t expect this from you.”

The older man nodded in agreement. “Neither did I.”

Isaac placed the hat back on his head, suddenly recalling Arthur’s last request.

“Hey,” he said, holding Dutch back for a moment, “before you go... my father wanted me to tell you somethin’ in case I ever saw you again. He said he never hated you, despite everything that happened. And he’s sorry he wasn’t there when you needed him.”

“He... said that?” The man sighed in heartache. “Oh, Arthur...”

Evidently grief-stricken by the message, Dutch turned away from Isaac and bit his bottom lip, attempting to hide the tears that threatened to spill. One of his biggest fears ever since learning of Micah’s betrayal was that he’d never be able to gain Arthur’s forgiveness, and yet... it was clear that he had misjudged the man once again.

Dutch let out a shaky breath, still gazing at the ground.

“Thank you... for lettin’ me know, son. I... I appreciate it.”

Isaac shared Dutch’s mournful mood. “I just wish my father could’ve been here to tell him yourself.”

Dutch nodded at that. “Me too, Isaac. Me too.”

The older man turned around and began making his way off the mountain, eager to put some distance between him and Mount Hagen.

“...I have to go now, son. You’ve... certainly given me much to think about, and I won’t forget it. But I need to handle it on my own.”

The boy stayed back, not wanting to disturb Dutch any further. 

“I understand.”

“Take care of yourself. This world weren’t built for the likes of us, but you still have a chance. As for me... well, my time has passed. And I’m afraid that’s just the way it is.”

Venturing deeper into the cold, barren landscape, Dutch took his leave from the grisly scene and began descending Mount Hagen’s steep terrain, disappearing further and further into the snow.

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever recover from the events that transpired here -- what with news of Arthur’s death -- but he knew it was time to move on.

This chapter of madness and insanity had finally been closed now that Micah was gone, and even though Dutch had no certainty of what the future held, he had no intentions of lingering in the past either.

It had caused him enough pain. And now, he was ready to heal.

Trudging down the mountain, Dutch vanished in the distance like a phantom in the wind as the snowstorm began to pick up, completely obscuring his path. He didn’t know where he was going, or where this road would lead him, but he continued with his journey regardless.

Meanwhile, Isaac stayed behind and watched as the other man took his leave, suddenly feeling a strange sense of contentment within him.

He still had a long way to go in terms of recovery, but the boy felt like he was finally ready to accept reality.

Arthur was dead. 

Eliza was dead. 

And there was no way he could bring them back.

The world had taken them prematurely from Isaac’s life... and yet, he was fully aware that it’d be impossible to rectify that.

There wasn’t a single man he could kill, or a god he could pray to that would restore everything he’d lost.

He no longer had anything left to lose... and that was why he could finally start over.

Slipping his gun back into its holster, Isaac took one last glance at Micah’s corpse before removing himself from Mount Hagen’s vicinity, allowing the other man to freeze in the snow.

Even though part of him was disappointed that he didn’t get the chance to kill Micah, the young man couldn’t deny that he was also relieved. He had seen for himself just how much hatred could consume a man, and considering everything that happened these past couple of weeks, Isaac didn’t know if he’d be willing to walk down the path of vengeance again.

It nearly destroyed him, not too long ago. He killed Shay’s entire gang without a single hint of hesitation or a second thought, and at one point, he might’ve even enjoyed it.

But now... Isaac could see that Arthur was right.

As tempting as revenge could be, it wasn’t worth the sacrifice. 

His humanity, his compassion, his care for others -- those were the things that kept him going. And those were the things he wanted to keep alive.

He had spent long enough wandering through this world as a killer, and now, he was ready to embrace forgiveness.

It was a difficult thing to accept, but for the sake of moving on with his life, and carrying out Arthur’s final wish, Isaac knew he had to put down the gun.

It was the only way he could allow himself to recover now, and the only thing that would permit him to seek redemption.

He had finally reached the end of the road, and freedom was waiting for him on the other side.

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE WEEK LATER

EVENING

ELIZA’S CABIN

Standing quietly in front of the lifeless house, Isaac found himself overwhelmed by the empty silence as he clutched a bundle of flowers in his grasp, wondering if he even had the strength to see his parents’ graves again.

After he left Mount Hagen, the boy traveled back to Colter against his better judgement and brought Arthur’s body here, burying him alongside Eliza.

It was probably foolish of him to remain in the United States for so long with all the people searching for him, but in spite of the danger, Isaac didn’t have the heart to leave them behind.

They were both gone from this world -- that was true -- but that didn’t mean he couldn’t ensure they had the opportunity to rest in peace.

Giving Aldo a quick pat on the neck, Isaac signaled the horse to stay behind as he approached the abandoned cabin, fiddling with his hands in nervousness.

It had been ages since he last saw this house, and just by gazing at its boarded-up windows, he could already feel an influx of memories flooding his head.

From the days he’d spend playing in the fields with Arthur, to the times he spent listening to Eliza’s singing... there wasn’t a single moment that he couldn’t remember.

Everything about this place screamed nostalgia to him, and part of Isaac wished he could stay forever.

Walking up to Arthur’s and Eliza’s graves, Isaac took a deep breath before kneeling down in front of them, trying to keep his composure.

He had given his father the same kind of cross that stood above his mother, and on the wooden planks read a small passage: 

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.”

It probably wasn’t the kind of message Arthur expected to be marked with when he was gone from this world, but Isaac felt it fit the man more than he may have realized. 

He knew his father always saw himself as somebody who only ever did wrong, but in Isaac’s eyes, the man was a hero. He abandoned his past as an outlaw, and sacrificed everything he knew to keep his son safe. His last moments were spent ensuring that Isaac had a chance to survive, and the boy wasn’t about to forget that.

Placing the flowers next to the crosses, Isaac gazed longingly at the names that had been carved into their surface, wishing they could be there with him.

He didn’t know exactly what to say, or if anything needed to be said at all, but simply by looking at their graves, he already felt as if his parents were standing in front of him again.

It was as if their ghosts still remained in this place, and the longer Isaac stared at the cabin standing behind them, the more he felt compelled to say something in return.

“Yeah, I know...” Isaac said affectionately, “I’m still here, Dad. I promise I’ll be on my way to Canada soon, but... I wanted to say goodbye first. I never had the chance to thank you properly for everything you did, and well... I just hope you know that I always cared for you.”

He turned to Eliza’s grave. “And Ma... I’m sorry for everything that happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from Shay and his men, and I’m sorry that I became blinded by my hatred for so long. I know neither of you would’ve wanted me to go down that path, and I wish I could’ve realized that sooner.”

He paused for a moment, nodding in reassurance. “But I’ll do my best to be a better man from now on. I’m gonna try to help people instead of hurtin’ them, and I won’t pick up my gun again unless I have to. It’ll feel strange takin’ on such a new life, but... it’s one I’m ready to adapt.”

Isaac stood up from the ground, glancing over his shoulder at Aldo.

“...I’ve gotta go now. You know how persistent them Pinkertons can be, and I think I’ve already spent enough time lingering around here. But I’ll come visit you as much as I can. I promise.”

Walking away from the graves, Isaac slowly returned to his horse as the sun finally began to set beneath the tree line, painting the sky a striking orange color. For as far as the eye could see, nothing but vast meadows stretched out for miles into the distance, and anything that stood on the horizon was blackened into a stark silhouette.

It was like a small paradise out here, Isaac thought. The nature in this area had been left untouched by civilization’s progress, and due to its secluded location, no other souls roamed around here except for his own two parents.

It was the one place Isaac could find peace... and he had to leave it behind for now.

Climbing back onto Aldo’s addle, the young man readied himself for the journey ahead and spared a few moments to take one final look at the cabin, admittedly reluctant to separate himself from it.

It felt nice to be somewhere familiar again, but Isaac knew he couldn’t stay here forever. There was an entirely new life waiting for him beyond the border, and this was his last chance to seize it.

So, with one last goodbye, Isaac bid farewell to the place he once called home and lightly kicked his spurs into Aldo’s sides, urging the horse to begin trotting away from the scene.

He didn’t know when he’d return to the cabin again, but one thing was for sure. He had finally found the closure he needed.

Shay, Arthur, Eliza, Dutch, Micah... they were all ghosts in the wind now. There was nothing left to hold Isaac back from his future, and now, he could focus on becoming a new man.

It was the reward he received for having fought for so long. The one thing that everyone else in his life constantly died for.

The only treasure that no amount of money could buy.

Redemption.

~~~~~~~~~~

FOUR YEARS LATER

1911

SOMEWHERE IN NEW AUSTIN

Hopping off his mount, John Marston approached the makeshift clinic standing in front of him as he carefully searched the area, admittedly skeptical of how much information he would receive from this visit.

According to the locals, there was a rather eccentric doctor who had been seen traveling around these parts... but he wasn’t anything like the ones that worked in the hospitals.

For starters, he was an outlaw. He hadn’t committed any crimes in recent years except for evading the Pinkertons’ grasp, but the idea of a criminal doctor was still strange to John. And on top of that, the man apparently had some crucial information regarding the locations of Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde.

He didn’t know why the hell Dutch or Bill would’ve been in contact with a man such as this one, but John supposed he was about to find out.

Making his way up the clinic’s wooden stairs, John opened the front door and prepared to let himself in, only to be interrupted when he found the barrel of a shotgun staring back at him.

He couldn’t quite see the face of the person holding it just yet due to the darkness inside, but John assumed it was the doctor he had heard so much about.

He raised his hands in the air, backing away slowly.

“Whoa, now...” Marston said, attempting to defuse the situation, “easy, mister. I mean you no harm.”

The doctor chuckled at that. “Them’s some funny words comin’ from a man with as many guns as you. You think I haven’t heard that one before? Who are you? You with the law?”

John hesitated to answer. “Well, I am workin’ with the government, but I ain’t here to take nobody in. I’m just here to see a doctor. I assume that’s you?”

The other man didn’t trust him just yet. “Depends on what you need. You sick? Dying? Both?”

Marston shook his head. “No, nothin’ like that. I’m just lookin’ for information. I need to find two outlaws named Bill Williamson and Dutch van der Linde, and I’ve been told that you’re the person to talk to.”

The doctor fell silent at that, clearly surprised to hear those names again.

“...Why d’you wanna find them?”

John sighed in discontent. The truth was, he didn’t want to find them. Not after all the conflict that ensued between them. But he had no choice.

“I have to.” He settled with. “For the sake of my family. For my wife, and son. Their safety depends on it.”

The doctor didn’t quite understand what he meant by that, but figured it was best not to ask too many questions. This man was linked to the government, after all, and the last thing he needed was for them to come sniffing around his clinic.

“...I see. Well, in that case...”

Putting the shotgun away, the doctor finally opened the door and stepped out from the clinic’s shadows, revealing his full identity.

He was much younger than John expected, and had a striking resemblance to someone he once knew. His hair was short and blonde, his eyes were a mixture of blue and green, and a short beard outlined the edge of his jaw. 

As for his clothes, he didn’t seem to share the same fashion sense that others in the medical field had. He wore a black Rambler Jacket paired with a rather nice set of trousers, and adorned a bronze-colored vest along with a simple puff tie to top it off. The soles of his boots were worn and covered in dirt, and on his waist rested a charcoal gun belt.

But what really caught Marston’s attention... was the unmistakable hat that sat atop the doctor’s head. It seemed to be made out of leather, and had a familiar string of rope wrapped around its crown.

It appeared to be identical to the one Arthur once wore, and just based on how similar the doctor’s features looked to the man, John suddenly found himself wondering who on earth he had just run into.

The young man rested the shotgun on his shoulder, formally introducing himself.

“I’m Doctor Morgan. How can I help?”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #isaac morgan #John Marston #Micah Bell #Dutch Van Der Linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

[feeling-uncomfy]

This one is both an apology and a filler because A. I decided would be Shouji-centric because I've fallen into the trap that is "adopting every fictional child that could potentially have a tragic backstory" and B. I still feel super bad about that Mafia fic BUT I'm on 25,000 words and I've decided health isnt important so I'm gonna finish it.

And fuck it- there will probs be two or three chapters cause I'm lazy so- here!

Summary is– Sensory overloads for someone with heightened senses is rough, especially when you end up held captive by some of the loudest villains ever.

Dad-Dabi gives me serotonin– no I will not explain any further

TW: cussing

Let's go!!

Shouji woke up at the slightest hint of dawn, which wasn't unusual, aside from the fact that it hurt his eyes to the point he had to turn away from the curtains. Shouji groaned as the smallest of noises had him reaching to cover his ears.

It was one of those days.

Sensory overloads weren't uncommon in Shouji's life– but the headaches and the over-stimulation that came with it *killed* him every time without fail. Using one of his extra hands, he tried to shut the curtain, only to find it was completely closed over. He sighed and wondered if there were any painkillers in the bathrooms...

Getting up was hard most mornings anyway, but today Shouji found himself begging for more sleep. He dragged himself out of bed and reached for the noise-canceling headphones he kept on his desk. Any bit of relief helped. He slipped them on and sighed as the sounds stopped. Walking slowly out, Shouji made his way to the bathroom.

Even if he couldn't hear anything, his footsteps were quiet as he kept his head low. After searching and confirming there wasn't any pain relief he could get at the dorms, Shouji sat in the couch and decided he could bear the pain. He didn't want to complain– a little headache wasn't the end of the world.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there for, but eventually he felt the pain was bearable enough to take the headphones off. The common area was never loud in the mornings so he should be—

"Out of the way fuckin' nerd!" Bakugo was yelling, and Kirishima laughed loudly. The sounds had Shouji scrambling for his headphones again. His head felt like it had split open, and those two weren't even the loudest people. Shouji wasn't going to last the day, he knew there was no hope.

He figured he could survive by hiding, not like anyone would particularly notice his absence. He was ready to get up and leave when someone slapped his shoulder, and the sensation had him doubling over in pain. "Shouji! We've been calling you for like ten minutes! What's up?" It was Kirishima.

Shouji tried not to show how much that slap hurt and shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." he lied‐ well technically he couldn't. Kirishima nodded and sat uncomfortably close and pulled out his phone. "You seen the news? It was awesome!" Shouji had a bright screen shoved in his face and it hurt. Too bright– way too bright.

Shouji couldn't focus on anything on the screen. It was just white– with sone blurry black lines that wouldn't stay still. Kirishima pulled it back and ranted about it. Shouji loved his classmate, he really did‐ but he was so loud. Shouji could feel the headache building and he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep the conversation going.

"Shouji?" Someone snapped their fingers and Shouji jumped up, immediately wincing afterwards. Aziawa looked down at him. "Are you alright? You've spaced out" Shouji tried to pay attention and nodded slowly. "M'fine, just tired" he knew better than to lie, but found himself doing it anyway.

Aziawa didn't push, thankfully. "Gang Orca wants you and Jirou at his agency by twelve pm today." Shouji nodded externally but died internally. He wanted to sleep, please let him sleep–

Aziawa sighed. "It's almost eleven. Get going." Shouji resisted the urge to curl up and hide. Instead he nodded and stood up on unsteady feet. "Yes sir." Shouji walked away and got ready to leave.

Twenty minutes later, he and Jirou were making there way to the city on a train. Shouji found himself wishing he didn't leave his headphones behind. Every noise had him scrunching up and subtlety covering his ears or closing his eyes tightly to block it all out. Jirou noticed and waited till they got off to ask if he was okay. Shouji simply shrugged her off and gave some random excuse.

They arrived and Gang Orca greeted them formally, his voice was oddly louder than usual. Shouji blamed it on the heightened senses. They were thrown straight into patrol, and it was quiet, and Shouji thanked whatever god was out there for it.

Jirou sighed as they walked down a road. "We should head back– neither of us know this area well and—" there was a loud explosion and Shouji and Jirou were sent flying. Shouji shook his head as the world span and his ears rang. His eyes wouldn't focus in anything and his head felt like it was full of cotton.

Jirou was saying something into an earpiece, but it sounded like static. Shouji looked over to see blue fire.

Wait–

Shouji shook his head again as the League of Villains walked out from the ashes, Shigaraki leading them. Dabi stood on his right side looking bored. Twice and Toga were messing around on his left. Mr. Compress was standing on some random piece of rubble being dramatic. Shouji winced at the sound of a van screeching to a stop behind him and turned.

Spinner was sitting in the front seat and was yelling. Jirou whispered something to him, but Shouji couldn't hear properly. His head was spinning. He glanced between them and realised that they were boxed in. He couldn't move, he swayed almost uselessly. "Shouji– stay with me, Mr. Orca is on his way–" Jirou said and steadied him. Shouji nodded and stood straighter.

Shigaraki was speaking, and pointing at the two of them. Shouji couldn't hear properly so didnt react. Jirou on the other hand seemed angry and stood in front of him. "Wha–?" Shouji wasnt sure what had caused the reaction. Jirou didnt respond and stayed firmly in front of him. Spinner yelled from behind him and Shouji felt familiar hands on his shoulders.

"You can relax, it's me, stay back okay?" Gang Orca was there. Shouji didn't know what else to do but nod and let Jirou drag him back. He felt like passing out– he hated this. He hated how useless he was being, he should be better than this—

Jirou yelled loudly as blue fire was sent their way. On instinct, Shouji shoved Jirou out of the way and was enveloped in flame. If his didn't know pain before, the feeling was redefined as his head hit the ground. It felt like his brain was about to explode. Everything hurt.

There was more yelling- more bright lights– Shouji couldn't keep up anymore. He felt himself being picked up as he faded out. He looked around at the fighting and it all blurred together. Who was who? Where was Jirou? Gang Orca? The League? He was picked up fully and the person started running. Shouji felt his consciousness slipping away, and found his eyes closing.

He was layed against something– no it was breathing– it was a person. Who though? They felt like a heater and Shouji couldn't help but relax because of it. A hand ran through his hair and he let himself drift off as the sounds and chaos faded to nothing.

Gang Orca growled as the van drove off. Jirou was picking herself up from the ground and looked around. Gang Orca turned to see Endeavor and Hawks arriving. "Saw the blue flames– what's happening?" Hawks asked, though his attention was somewhere else. Endeavor looked at where the van once was and sighed. Gang Orca explained what happened briefly.

"My interns can give a better explanation." Hawks tilted his head. "Interns? There's only one kid though?" Gang Orca turned quickly. "... where did–?" He ran forward and picked Jirou up. Looking around again, he saw no sign of Shouji. Jirou got out of his grip and looked around as well. "... they said– they said they were gonna–" Jirou swore.

Hawks turned behind him as Tokoyami showed up. "The others are on the way." He informed Endeavor, standing straight. Hawks laughed and ruffled his interns feathers. "My kid's faster than all of yours!" Hawks laughed as Endeavor glared. Tokoyami flushed at the praise.

Gang Orca walked over. "Not the time! The League–" Endeavor looked over as Jirou paced and Gang Orca explain what had happened. Hawks seemed to get a little more serious. "They targeted your interns specifically?" Tokoyami looked inbetween the pros. Gang Orca sighed. "No- according to Jirou they wanted a member of class 1A, but Shouji and Jirou were just unlucky."

Endeavor nodded as Bakugo, Midoryia and Todoroki showed up panting. Hawks raised a brow and commented something along the lines of "My kid wasn't tried at all" and Endeavor glared at Hawks as Tokoyami was smacked by Bakugo.

Gang Orca sighed loudly. He looked at Jirou and motioned for a sidekick to take her back to the agency. She went reluctantly and Gang Orca walked towards the tire marks. He wondered vaguely what was going to happen to his intern...

Shouji woke up to a massive blast of pain in his head and his everywhere. He winced and curled up tighter. He wanted to sleep and never wake up. The door opened and someone sat beside him. "...Kid?" Shouji didn't recognise the voice– weird, wasn't he at the agency?

"Kid. You need to get up." A hand went through his hair and he opened his eyes and saw a blurred blob sitting over him. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Blue eyes. Black hair, purple face? Shouji squinted despite how much it hurt. Dabi– the villain, sat over him. Shouji jumped and winced harshly as another wave of pain flood through him.

The hand was back, gently pulling him so he was sitting up and leaning against the arsonist as he was handed a glass of water. "Painkillers– we would sedate you but... dont know how you feel about needles so‐" Dabi explained and kept a hold on Shouji.

Shouji took the pills easily and found himself relaxing against the person he was told to fear. He didn't understand why they were being considerate– wasnt he a captive? Dabi was about to say something when there was a sudden burst of noise as two more blobs broke in.

Shouji found himself swarmed with questions and pokes. Toga was squealing about Izuku and Uraraka while Twice was pulling at Shouji's mask. Shouji found himself completely overwhelmed and pulled back from them. They just yelled louder and moved closer.

Too loud– way too loud. He couldn't think straight and his head hurt. Dabi got the hint and moved so Shouji was hidden behind him and glared at Toga and Twice. They didn't seem to get the message and taked louder. Dabi snapped a little. "Get out both of you– you're too loud you morons"

Twice had two voices yelling now and Toga flipped him off and moved around him to talk to Shouji. The teen responded by hiding his face in Dabi's back. Dabi flicked Toga's forehead and she stuck her tongue out. An idea popped into her head. "Wait here!" She ran off and Twice was stuck between apologising and asking more questions.

Toga came back in with her phone and was holding it to her face and talking. "Are you streaming?! Toga you know you're not allowed—" Toga grinned and pointed the camera at the three of them. "And here's our guest! He doesn't like us right now– any words?" She has the camera in Shouji's face.

Shouji responds with a shrug and mumbles something. Dabi sighs and shoves the camera away and is effectively distracted. Twice takes the opportunity to scoop Shouji up and takes off running. Toga cheers and takes off. Dabi curses loudly and chases them.

Hawks and Gang Orca are watching as Shouji is literally carried one handed by Twice through a large building. Toga is in front of them sprinting. Dabi is yelling and catching up. They're all screaming. Shigaraki is shown briefly before he's shoved into Spinner as Toga yells.

Mr. Compress is there– both concerned and laughing until he's also picked up and carried one handed. Dabi knocks into Twice and they're all sent flying down the stairs. Gang Orca winces as they all tumble down. The phone is dropped and someone screams loudly. Toga picks up the phone and it's pointed to Shouji hanging off the staircase.

Twice is the only thing keeping him from falling– Shouji's grip is weak and he's panicking. Dabi is holding his other arm and they're pulling. Mr. Compress is laying lifeless at the bottom of the stairs– if it weren't for the phone picking up on his laughter Hawks would've presumed he was dead.

Toga is speaking. "So– the kid might be dead but I think it was fun!" Dabi yells in response. "If he is dead you'll join him, dont think I wont–" he pulls Shouji over and yanks him away from Twice. Gang Orca watches as Toga laughs loudly and Dabi limps away with the kid while Twice has joined Compress on the floor. The stream ends and the two pro-hero's are left wondering what the fuck happened.

Dabi brings himself and Shouji to his room and sighs. Shouji gripped Dabi's shirt. He was confused and kind of afraid– but at the same time...

He hasn't laughed like that in forever– he hadn't had fun like that in forever. Sure he was terrified– but he found himself enjoying it a lot more than he thought he would. The thrill of being chased around and just... being carefree. It had become so foreign to him.

"Kid? You okay there?" Dabi had noticed the sudden change. Shouji looked up and shrugged, his head felt like it was gonna explode and his legs wouldn't stop shaking. He felt like he couldn't stay up, and his eyes drooped. Dabi noticed. "Go to sleep kid. I'll be here if you need anything."

Normally– Shouji wouldn't trust it. But he found himself completely at ease and nodded. Dabi put him down on the bed and Shouji curled up, drifting off almost immediately. Dabi watched him drift off and is surprised to find a small smile on his face. He sighed and pet the kids head gently.

Dabi wasn't sure when he noticed it, but at one point Shouji had started shaking. Dabi simply put it off as the kid being cold and warmed him up. Eventually the tremors became worse and Dabi suspected it was something else...

Dabi had moved so he was closer and very gently picked Shouji up. The response was instantaneous, Shouji's eyes snapped open and he jolted away. Dabi noted that the kid obviously wasn't all there yet, and reached out slowly.

Very gently, Dabi pat Shouji's head, and even with the naturally heated up palms, Dabi could feel the temperature. He sighed and watched as Shouji woke up fully, and slumped useless against his hand. For such a tall kid, he was oddly... small.

Dabi tilted his head and could practically see the gears turning in the kids head. He was clearly out of it. Shouji felt like his whole world was turning upside down– he was going to puke—

Dabi had to hop back as Shouji dived for the nearest bin, toilet– anything. He ends up vomiting into a bin and his whole body spasms and shakes. Dabi is there, trying not to puke himself and rubs his back. Shouji heaved and tried not to puke again- it was awful- his senses were going insane.

He was going to pass out- it was too much- he couldn't keep up with it all—

"Kid?! Kid- don't you dare–" Dabi had to catch Shouji when he went limp again. Dabi turned him over to see Shouji's eyes shut and his breathing was shallow. Dabi tried not to let his panic show and simply layed him down again. Shouji was mumbling nonsense, and Dabi only caught the word "sorry".

Dabi sighed and heated his palm up again, maybe heating him up would help? He went back to gently petting Shouji and watched as the kid relaxed and moved closer to him. Dabi wanted to he angry, but he couldn't. Not when Shouji hugged him like a lifeline, it reminded him too much of himself when he went to his brother.

Is this what Natsuo had felt like? Cause Dabi hated. it.

He isn't sure how much time pasts when he hears it. Toga and Twice– again. This time with... Shigaraki? And Spinner- they're all screaming. Dabi sighs, he just wants a little peace and quiet so this fucking kid could sleep. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was.

Uhh so yeah- hope you didn't hate this- I'm a little rusty so m'tryna get better!

Until next time :)

#boku no hero academia #bnha shouji #bnha dabi #league of villains #dont know how well this one will do but oh well I'm proud of it

[aboyandhisstarship]

Kindergarten AU: car crash

Thanks to @dysphoric-artist for the prompt and proof reading

still written in a diary style  and () are still kid adding his thoughts in after the fact 

anyway without further ado lets hop into it 

Ok now, you may not unreasonably say something along the lines of “Mike, you have literally died, hundreds of times. A good chuck of which happened when you were just a kid…how are you not 8 different kinds of traumatized.” And I thank you for your concern (weird guy who is reading my diary…really who does that you would have to broke into my room and stole this thing…which is uncool in every state) to be frank, I am traumatized…but I can’t really tell anyone why, what am I going to tell a headshrinker?

 Headshrinker: so Mike…why don’t you talk to me about the tragic events at your kindergarten….”

Me:  *bursts out laughing* which one…the time I got killed by the principle…or bugs, or monty, or Cindy…or the janitor…or those weird monster things (this would go on for some time)

Headshrinker: uhhh, I think you’re crazy…off to the crazy house!  (ok in fairness I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work this way…but I’m not exactly keen to find out.)

“Ok Mike” you may retort, “They might think you’re crazy…but you could be a superhero! Like the Flash, or Batman! They could call you….Reapto!”  (First off Random guy, Reapto? that’s the best you can come up with?) I tried that once to be the big hero…it can be rather hit or miss.

 High school parking lot:

Nugget said with a smile “if friend Mike, Friend Carla and the Pretty Lilly would be willing to accompany Nugget, we will indulge in some super…”

Nugget was interrupted by the loudest car screech I ever heard, my eyes went wide as felt massive pain and the air forced out of my chest.

I shoot up hyperventling as my alarm went off screaming a little bit too loudly “FUCK!”

My mother bless her soul, responded with an “I know you don’t want to go to school today young man but I will not tolerant such language.” (yea that was embarrassing)

I shook my self-off, and considered putting on a tally before deciding that it was a one off death adding to my journal *Don’t go to the parking lot after school Dummy* (normally I leave myself notes like this…and normally they are a lot more helpful, like don’t mix the red and green flowers it blows up the room you know useful stuff)

 Hallway, My high school:

I had been glancing at my watch about 4 times and Carla (Perceptive as she is) finally snapped “goddamn it Mike you got a date or something?”

I smiled awkwardly “what me no!?”

Lillie frowned “alright you are sketchy…”

Nugget nodded “friend Mike is definitely hiding something.”

A second later a car came crashing into the school slamming through several walls, nailing all 3 of us I paused briefly musing  “man I didn’t think the school was this badly built,” Before hitting the ground hard.

I woke up to the sound of my alarm and groaned grabbing my pillow throwing my face into it saying “not again!”

Before throwing himself out of bed grabbing his marker he added two marks onto my skin

5 loops later:

Ok I didn’t know the school was this badly built, guess what no matter where I was I got taken out by that car, the bathroom, Boom, the library, boom…I even skipped school once…I may have gotten grounded but I laughed thinking I had in fact won, only to get hit by a different car crossing the road, and looping. (I sometimes wonder if the universe hates me…)

But before I died I did get some valuable intel, I saw the death count (the entire school by the way…yea after this I wrote a strongly worded letter to the school board…again) but also the names of the folks in the car, two high school seniors…(now for the sake of timelines I can’t tell you who they are, but mike they didn’t die! Yea yea…just trust me the less anyone knows about the other timelines the better off we all are, tried that once when I first started looping…the planet literally exploded, so no names) so these teens who I dub….Bob and Bertha  crash and kill the whole school…and I need to find out why.

 So I approached the gang saying “alright sit down.”

Monty asked “what this about mike.” His voice clearly impaintent

so I lifted my arm showing the tally’s, that was it they were all ears as I explained “alright in exactly.” I glanced at my watch “4 and half hours, a car comes crashing into school and kill literally everyone, we need to stop that so ideas?”

Jerome proposed “maybe tell them?”

Buggs shook his head “real high and mighty types won’t listen to us.”

Lilly sighed “well they crashed into the building…so they clearly were not leaving it…”

Billy nodded “that’s right, that means they left are coming back for someone or something…we figure out what and bing bang boom.”

I pointed out “has it literally ever been that easy?”

Ted smiled “me and penny can think about cars, figure out what caused it.” Quickly blushing

Penny also blushed “I would love to Teddy…”

Felix cleared his throat “perhaps me and Cindy can get close to them ?”

Cindy smiled brightly (she had grown out of her bitchiness, but she was natural born queen bee, even if she was cool with us all the snobs and assholes in school love her.) “I can reach out…maybe find out what they have going on and more intel.”

I nodded “right find out what we can but tell me before it happens, so I can write it down.”

Everyone responded “right!”

I spent most of the loop with Monty and Carla using their connections to figure out if they were getting any drugs or other fun stuff to explain there “Skillful” driving (got em….yea ok not the best burn)

 Loop 12th:

I woke up with another groan “If I have to read another book about cars I am going to lose it!”

He glanced at his notes the car (a 66 Camaro…I swear those two are like a couple form the 60’s) and the other intel he had gathered from the others (they had indeed been indulging in drugs those bad bad boys and girls…ok I’m not one to talk, seeing  the number of crimes I have technically committed…but those were other timelines…and you know what let’s not go down that rabbit hole)  but the issue was simple, they had indeed nought some weed from Carla and monty’s secretive network (I never asked) but had not in fact gotten it yet, so the question still stood as to what exactly caused it.

 Nugget hole:

The Lair  (Ozzy wanted to call it that)  is what we call our base of operation’s,  I have been spending my time shooting down ideas that we already tried and smiling with evil glee whenever I  make ted and penny work together (honestly I want to yell make out already whenever I see them) but then it hit us, instead of stopping the car crash maybe we should stop them leaving.

 Now mike, you are likely saying, I literally thought of that after like the third loop, first off no you didn’t you liar, (seeing as we didn’t even know who they were then) also, this loop was different normally there are multiple things that need doing to affect a change in the timeline, so it is almost never that easy (ohh jee mister principle, the star athlete and his girl are going to skip class and kill us all ohh geee, yea real convincing huh?)  there was of course the factor, that our group (ok just me) were not exactly popular around school or town, they called us the kinder busters (pretty badass name right?...yea I don’t dig it either) so people consider us bad luck (to be fair…we did end up at two schools run by crazy kidnappers in a row…if that is not unlucky I don’t know what is.)so we needed a couple of people that will actually be believed, now 3 guesses of who my friends who Is the most likely to believed about that kind of thing?

Cindy? Well no seeing as she has her queen bee rep they may think that she is “fronting” (there words not mine…I shuddered just thinking about them trying to street)

Bugs? (HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHA *snort* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA…wait your serious… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA)

Carla or Monty (better, but no joy they are bit to up to something…we need purist faces.)

Ok by now you have either guess correctly (good job!) or are yelling at the page, “stop teasing me mike and tell me!”

And naturally the answer is Ted and Penny, (I mean have you seen those faces! Who could say no to them?!)

Of course I had to convince them to do it.

 Nugget hole:

Ted asked “are you sure about this?”

I smiled “of course I am…ninty percent sure this will work.”

Penny smiled “relax Teddy this will be fine.”

I pulled out 5 dollars “here you go get yourselves some ice cream afterwards.”

Ted pointed out “you know I’m a billionaire right…”

Penny took the five dollars saying “deal! Come on Teddy.”

Now you dear reader may be sitting there thinking “that was easy, that’s it, what no boss fight, no dramatic showdown, no sweet groundhog day style montage where you do whatever you want?” (that was happened…more on that later)

My rebuttal to that dear sir, is screw you  let me have this, alright most of time when I start looping I have to fight monsters and a whole thing so I think I earned a nice break, but you might be sitting thinking “that was anti-climactic! Did Ted and Penny at least go on a date!?”

My answer to that is a yes… and no, you see both told me (under the promise to never tell a soul after the loop) they also sadly made me promise not tell the other person, now you may say Mike…after the loop they would not remember, you can pull a sneaky and just tell them that they like each other, and while you are right I don’t for a couple of reasons, number one being I keep my promises, number 2 is they would think I am messing with them (I know right those oblivious idoits.)

But sadly this journal is not a relationship journal of ted and penny (sorry guys, but this supposed to be a record of loops) but I will quietly disclose that they may have been a kiss on the cheek (I screamed I tell you)  of course they are still claiming to be friends in front of us but I don’t buy it…anyway I should proably end this entry…

So thanks for reading? (I mean you are reading a private journal…so I don’t know why you are reading this)

Mike June 26 20XX

#kindergarten game #nugget kindergarten #monty kindergarten #ted kindergarten #carla kindergarten #penny kindergarten #lilly kindergarten #Ted X Penny #Kid Kindergarten #Cindy Kindergarten #as always feed back and prompts are welcome #this verse is really fun to write for so fire em my way

[justalittlelitnerd]

Pretty Reckless by L.J. Shen

This book really surprised me not only because of the characters, but the writing itself was truly beautiful. In my own personal experience with romance novels they’re not always the best written and I think that has more to do with the industry and the genre and the lack of support romance novels and their authors get than a lack of talent on the writer’s part. Most romance novels are self-published with whatever resources or connections the author has in terms of editorial work which in the end just means the final result is *typically* (note: not always obviously) a little rougher than say if it went through the traditional publishing process where an agent works with the author for months to fine-tune the story before it goes to an editor who will then work for months to fine-tune the writing and on and on until it’s finally published. 

Sorry that was a long tangent just to say that I’ve gotten into a habit of skimming romance books because I’m in it for the characters and the romance and the HEA more than the writing itself (honestly characters and their relationships are far more important to me than writing), but I found myself taking my time with this book because there were so many beautiful lines that I wanted to savor. 

Basically, Daria Followhill and Penn Scully meet at age 14 when both their lives are falling apart in very different ways. Daria is teeming with the jealousy only a fourteen-year-old girl who feels her mother loves another girl more than her can feel and she finds herself in possession of a letter that would change everything. Penn enters, unaware of the letter’s contents or the effect it will have on his family, and in an attempt to win Daria’s attention he trashes the letter, leaves her with a piece of sea glass, her first kiss, and a promise of more. But the letter contained his sister’s future and when she thinks she didn’t get in she runs away from Penn and their abusive family, never to be seen again. 

Fast forward four years to Penn’s 18th birthday and it’s clear that a lot has changed, but there’s still an undeniable pull between the two. When Penn’s mother dies and his step-father kicks him out, Daria’s mom (who feels residual guilt over his sister’s disappearance) offers him a place to stay and he makes it his mission to make Daria pay for the role she played in what happened. But Daria’s already paid and is still paying. What neither of them expected was love. Or the return of a ghost.

*TRIGGER WARNING* in general there’s quite a bit of violence, mentions of rape/assault, and an abusive relationship between the principal and Daria which started when she was 14. 

All in all if you like classic enemies-to-lovers, fated romance, complicated family dynamics, tough guys with soft hearts, and dark elements with your romance than this book is probably worth a shot.     

Keep reading for the quotes!

Boys can smell heartbreak from across a continent. Even at fourteen. Even in the middle of an innocent summer afternoon. We girls have an invisible string behind our belly button, and only certain guys can tug at it. This boy…he will snap it if I let him.

He studies me with quiet interest as though I’m a painting, not a person. My heart is rioting all over, and the dumbest thought crosses my mind. Ever notice how the heart is literally caged by the ribs? That’s insane. As if our body knows it can break so easily, it needs to be protected.

My voice hardens around the words. Like tin. I’m desperate. I have no lead. I want to rip the world apart to find her, but the world is not mine to destroy. The world just continues turning at the same pace, because kids like Via and me? We disappear all the time, and no one notices.

His scent messes with my head. I want to reach out and caress his face. Kiss his wounds better. Beg for forgiveness. Curse him. Push him away. Cry on his shoulder for what we’ve done. For how it ended. For what we became afterward. Because I’m full of crap, and he is totally empty. We ruined ourselves the day of our first kiss.

She stares at me with the same wild gaze that made me give her the sea glass four years ago. As though I’m the most fascinating creature in the world. I want to pocket that look and save it for the next time the world lets me down. Which should be in the next twenty minutes.

Normally, he’d drag my ass out and give me a piece of his mind. Not today. He and I both know he can’t be that much of a hypocrite. If he saw someone hitting on Luna, he would rip them to shreds and dump whatever’s left of them on the side of the road. I’ve seen him screw people up for less than looking at her. The only problem is, Penn is not my Luna. We don’t have some long, elaborate, angsty childhood friendship that’s dancing on the edge of more.

“And miss out on all this delicious teenage angst?” I murmur, mesmerized by how beautifully she fits under my palm. As though she was born to have my hands on her. “It’s practically Netflix for free.”

“You’re Saturn,” she whispers. “Made of iron-nickel and surrounded by protective rings of ice and rock.” “How do you know that?” I smile, and I know the smile is warm. I know it’s fucking up something in her chest, and even though I shouldn’t, I like it. After all these years, I still want to ruin her. Then put her back together. Then do it again and again and a-fucking-gain.

He stops, cupping my face in his hands. His eyes twinkle, but maybe I see what I want to see. I didn’t mean to save him all my firsts. But it happened, and a part of me is glad that it did. Because he was the first boy to give me a gift. The first boy to kiss me. To want to become my friend not because I was popular, but because I was me. He was the first boy who noticed the injured animal behind the camouflage of hostility and tried to give it water and shelter.

Luckily, I have a lot of experience when it comes to fakeness. My personality is basically one hundred percent recyclable plastic. The only person who can still scrape a bit of authenticity from me is her brother.

The Scullys are too smart to fall for this type of Riverdale nonsense.

She is wrong. I can look at her face all fucking day. I wish it were a legit job so I could make money doing it. I would put in all the extra hours and become a billionaire within a year. (The math doesn’t add up, by the way, so don’t try to do it.)

My world, however, is narrow-pathed and dingy. I don’t believe in fairy tales. I think Shakespeare got it right. When two people try to go against the grain, they get fucked up. End of story.

“It’s not like that,” I say hurriedly. If I have to tell him what’s going on with Prichard, I will. I’m not proud of it, but pride is a very slippery slope where love is involved. Marx. Love. I don’t use the L word lightly. I don’t go around telling people I love pizza or chocolate or Riverdale. I like those things. Love, I save for the important stuff. But I am hopelessly, tragically in love with Penn Scully. That’s why I can’t really hate his sister. Not entirely, anyway. She is an extension of him, and he has my heart.

Love. Four letters can’t cover what I feel for Daria Followhill. They seem too trivial, too small, too overused.

And love IS humbling, I know now because I want to punch myself in the face for being the smug bastard who assumed he’d just walk out of this shit unscathed. The tin man didn’t ask for a heart—but got one anyway. I love you, Daria Followhill, and I think you love me, too. In fact, I think we fell at the same time. You, like rain, in drizzles, over the weeks. Me, like the fucking sky above my head, all at once, crashing without the faintest chance of stopping.

My mouth goes dry, and I shake my head slowly. She takes a step closer and folds my shirt under her palm so that the hole in my chest looks like it’s closing in when, in reality, it opens up like a shark’s jaw. “Everything I touch is tainted, Penn. Everything I want turns to ash. I spent the entire semester trying to be yours, but you’ve never once claimed my heart. I’m sending you to Adriana’s arms, not because I don’t care, but because I do. So much. Maybe too much. Because I screwed up so many relationships, the only way for us to heal is if I take myself out of the equation.” You are the fucking equation, I want to yell in her face. The riddle and the answer and the numbers within it. You’re math. You make sense.

“You were never a drizzle, Penn Scully. When I fell for you, you came beating down, and I felt you everywhere. You were hail.”

“I’ve loved you in secret, and I’ve loved you openly in front of both our worlds, and if you think I’ll stop loving you if you put an ocean between us, you’re dead wrong.”

I want her to tell me that I’m not the only one here feeling like every breath is a fucking nail jammed straight into my lungs. If this is what love feels like, it’s complete bullshit. I want my money back because Shakespeare was right all along. True love truly sucks ass.

I’ll go wherever Daria goes. Even if it’s straight to hell.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. You know that, right?” No, I don’t, and I’m trying to tell myself not to get my hopes up because they are slamming their little fists against the door of my brain’s basement, wanting to gush out.

Last time we spoke to each other, she promised not to leave, but she did. I’m not taking any chances. She might as well file a restraining order because I’m not letting her out of my sight.

#pretty reckless #pretty reckless book #all saints high #l.j. shen #daria x penn #enemies to lovers #romance #hs romance #romance books #complex characters #quotes #book quotes #book blog #booklr

[elizabethrobertajones]

14x08 watching notes

This episode is the Worst I had to lie to my mum when I came downstairs trembling and tear-stained to get a cup of tea to recover, and play it all off as cold symptoms, and now I feel complicit in some sort of deceit with the episode and like Meredith broke the fourth wall through sheer pain.

Good morning, I slept in until seven after they started digging up the road outside at 9pm at night, so I still kinda have a lingering headache from that, but I'm pretty sure Meredith is about to make good on the Dean n Jack murder pact or something else of that level of awfulness so... *deep breath*

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YAY it is Lily!! I mean it was pretty obvious from the costuming because wow she's a distinct person but idk maybe some people thought it was her mom?

Anyway getting a recap just of how terribly Jack is doing and then also a reminder of Lily Sunder is just.. Good recap. *kisses fingers*

(*curls up in agony*)

In all the drama I never noticed Rowena being among those who yelled "Jack!" when he went down and to be honest she knew him five minutes and I'm crediting all that panic in her voice to his absolutely ridiculous powers of being the most adoptable creature in the cosmos. You take one look at him and you want to make sure his shoelaces are tied properly and he has a glass of milk.

Anyway he totally caught Rowena off her guard and made her express an Emotion(TM) that was not spite and a good chunk of that is new and improved Rowena of the last year or so, but also just... She bonded HARD :P

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Ironically I left the spoon in my coffee in my haste to get up here and start watching so now I will drink it like that and possibly exit the episode also wearing an eye patch

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I watched a second and tucked the largest, most comforting stuffed toy this family owns under my arm. Yes, not my personal stash of friends, the family heirloom squishy guy who has been with us through all the worst stuff D:

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The framing is Sam sitting at Jack's bedside, Dad no.1 as season 13 firmly established for us, and the dad with the closest traditional relationship of father/son to Jack. Then Cas hovers nearby, struggling to be as close but still Dad no.2 with the ongoing and uncomplicated connection to Jack in the sense that both just sort of accept they're now father and son without any debate or internal wrangling, and that's always been Jack's in with the family and the way he inadvertently got Cas to vouch for him from beyond the grave when he said Castiel was his father and Sam immediately just flipped to Team Jack, not, of course, that he'd not been giving him a huge chance and trying to reach out to him already, but that was his "oh shit this is now my son because Cas is dead" moment.

Finally, Dean fills the foreground, face in shadow, the conflicted Dad no.3 who can't even face his dying son, taking it personally because this is literally the fourth smol child he's taken under his wing who he then lost, from Sam, Ben, Emma, a truly tragic collection of lost children. He resisted adopting Jack because he couldn't be a parent again, not after what Sam put him through as a parent, and yet Jack, the most adoptable boy in the cosmos, eventually wormed his way under Dean's skin too, and by the end of season 13 Dean was acting fatherly towards him and by this season Dean's been opening up the doors and letting Jack be his son. And. Whoops. As SOON as you took him on a hunt for one on one father son bonding time, look what happened.

And so Dean will lurk in the foreground, not looking at Jack, peering moodily into some dark empty box that metaphorically is his soul or his remaining ability to cope with losing children or some such nonsense. The pandora's box of parenthood. He's full on dark romantic hero brooding.

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OH  NO  IT IS A RECORD PLAYER NOT A BOX

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I need our family to retroactively adopt a larger, squishier friend to hug in this trying time

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Having archived every single one of my watching notes ever between last episode and this episode, I'm more than usually pained by Dean's "not meant to be crap" line because he's been resisting it the entire frikkin time, when Sam kept, even long long long before they knew their real destinies, musing if HIS own personal angst was meant to be and Dean was like don't give me that destiny crap. I swear there's lines about this back in season 2 or 3 when Sam is musing on his powers and the grim lot fate had dealt them. This is a callback line to Dean dealing with his own sense of unravelling control and pure panic about what was happening to Sam, back when that was a thing in the very early seasons and he was having to face the kid he raised from a baby amongst all that tragedy now recklessly declaring all sorts of horrific things about not being able to resist his destiny. Oh, also, in season 2, while under a murder pact from John about killing him if he couldn't save him.

Honestly, it's barely a relationship worth mentioning if you don't have a murder pact going with Dean. Ben is literally the only one of all 4 children AND CLAIRE who hasn't had one with Dean.

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If this episode involves Dean bringing any of his records in to play for Jack I'm gonna go out in my pyjamas and take a long walk to the sea and then keep walking once I reach it

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Dean you did not walk nearly far enough for Jack to not hear you thump the wall outside his room

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PS: totally figured the promo scene was an early emotional beat between Dean and Cas which utterly delights me because the earlier that came in the episode the better as it meant less and less chance it was about anything other than Dean and Cas having an intense relationship over this whole thing.

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Jack is the absolute worst about dying. He's this saintly angelic little boy from like, no later than 1900s literature, who exists only to bravely suffer and love with his whole heart. He's snatched out of an era when kids needed morality tales about how to die politely of consumption with the least amount of fuss for their parents and 300 siblings.

How dare you fucking die selflessly. Humanity is at its Bithc This Isn't Fair stage. Throw a fit. Go walk into the sea out of protest.

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Okay you're in Kansas I understand how that is an unrelastic option and I grew up spoiled by the immediate location of the sea should I ever need to walk into it.

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This show has never made me cry before the title card before.

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This is the Pippin and Gandalf scene from Return of the King with the whole Into the West thing that they wrote for a sick fan who died before the movie came out and literally Annie Lennox sings what would be Jack's THEME for this scene.

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Sam is horrified that Jack didn't even live long enough for a LotR marathon to explain the reference that's making him bawl.

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I LOVE that this scene with Dean n Cas is just about Dean being a wuss about watching his son die because that's so much worse than Jack having asked for a mercy kill or anything. And this all before the title card. Cas tearing Dean a new one about going in and watching your son die smiling beautifully like a little cherub who can't wait to find out what happens next.

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Jack's gonna be dead before the title card, isn't he?

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Oof.

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Hey, Dean, one more reason to hate yourself :) :) :)

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Also robbed Cas of watching him go.

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But I think tbh they could have done this if Dean wasn't being a coward about watching Jack die that they would leave Sam to sit at this side in the last moment.

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Ugh, my eyes are leaking too much to type. What the hell is all this wet stuff coming out of them.

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I've never seen a TFW shot where Sam was the shortest but he is slumped over like someone cut all his strings.

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"Your brother's in pain" AND WE'RE NOT? YOU'RE NOT? CAS ISN'T?

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Dean stopping Cas going after Sam with just a catch of his shoulder... Ugh. The two of them are still connected through all this in a way where Cas and Dean are connected whether Dean's in the most obvious pain or Sam is.

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Cas, pls be selfish and in the most obvious pain at some point this episode.

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Oh please don't make me watch Dean telling his mom that Jack died

please

I beg you

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They put a photo of Kelly next to Jack's bed D: Or has he always had that?

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That's not even the photo that Cas had pinned to his board in 12x10 and yes I went and checked, I'm leaking tears too much to watch because Cas is standing over him and this is going to be the worst while Dean's answerphone message lays over the top.

I'm so not here to watch TFW mourn their son.

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They had him for like a WEEK this SUCKS.

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ALso I said "please don't make me watch" so they cut away to Cas mourning silently while Dean talks to Mary's answerphone because Meredith is an evil fairy who whimsically takes your wishes and twists them into even worse options.

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*takes my glasses off and throws them aside angrily when Sam emerges carrying a duffel over his shoulder and wearing the fucking orange jacket he first met Jack in*

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God, I don't even wear them for focus, just lack of headaches. Why was I bothering.

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7x10 and this episode are probably going to be unholy companions in this show's canon

"She's come down with acute Tear Duct Blockage. The only option is head amputation or we make her cry, NOW" "Don't worry, I have just the thing."

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Dean this answerphone message huuuurts

Also explains the Buckleming issue of not calling Mary, to just say, yeah, it escalated, rapidly.

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Your brother is storming off and Cas is broken.

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If I have to see Cas see a set of PB&J crusts and a glass of milk identical to what Dean saw in 9x10 I'm - well, I'm still here instead of walking off into the sea so my threats are starting to look a bit performative. BUT I'M THINKING IT.

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Cas watches Sam go, while Dean is being dwarfed by the bunker and obfuscated by its maze of corridors.

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*presses my hands over my eyeballs* STOP. STOP IT. GOD. You're not even sobbing or anything you're just lEAKING. This is so annoying! I'm gonna dehydrate and they'll find a shrivelled skellington here and I'll go with just a few quiet sniffs and a dumb smile on my face like fucking Jack did.

Now I'm just distraught about the first time ever in canon we see Cas drive, it's in his dumb blue car and Dean's broken and not up for driving even if Sam presumably hadn't stolen the car for his errand/driving until he finds the sea and walking off into it mission. All my myriad fantasies about Cas behind the wheel of the impala and Dean grinning at him like yeah that's my baby (which one is he talking about?), and nope we're getting Cas's little partymobile and Dean's mute expression of grief.

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NEVER MIND THEY SHOWED ME SAM CURLED UP ON THE GROUND USING THE IMPALA AS A BELOVED FAMILY HEIRLOOM TO HUG AND I SOBBED OUT LOUD FUCK  YOU MEREDITH FUCK YOU

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I need the tissues why were they not here in preparation for this episode

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I need to avoid my mum all day on the ground of spoilers because my face is a walking spoiler

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"TELL ME YOU DIDN'T  MAKE A DEAL" "wha- no, I'm trying to make a pyre"

Making a pyre doesn't usually involve curling up on the floor.

Cas is getting an accidental glimpse of 13x01's emotional landscape, not that anyone will tell him this was what it was like for Dean, that we now have Sam in the spot of. We're getting some mirror image missing moments, like we just saw Dean get the axe out but did see him begging God... in this one we see Sam go take it out on a tree.

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Incidentally I re-read all of Terrible Coffee AU two days ago for Reasons and the scene where Sam is whaling on a tree while screaming into the sky is pretty much this. Which is fucking hilarious that 2 years ago I decided Sam taking out his feelings on the local trees was a Thing when he was depressed.

(I wrote that scene the day Eileen was murdered on the show and honestly at the time he was mostly just angry on canon!Sam's behalf and I figured I'd come up with plot reasons later.)

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Oh, they weren't driving the party!mobile, they were driving something else. I'm not even gonna ask where they get these vehicles

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Yeah I'm harping on Dabb vs cars because Cas is talking about Jack's story ending like this and certainty of death for angels and this is just... the worst.

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the story line - Cas deciding how their stories go. Dean resisting the how it's supposed to be of Jack's death. TFW want to take the narrative into their own hands. We KNOW in this world deaths are stored in notebooks, potential ways to pass that you skate past until one claims you. They're free to write their own stories but the ending is always pre-written for them... It's just a matter of which one. But Cas especially... Jack was supposed to bring paradise, and maybe the emotional landscape between season 12 and 14 is a gulf of difference in their openness and bonds, largely facilitated by Jack's presence in the narrative and relentless open love for everyone who was nice to him and even those who weren't in Dean's case. He breezed through their lives, manic pixie dream girl'd them to emotional health, and mayfly'd out. But that's THEIR stories. That's not JACK's story. That's not the epic destiny something as cosmically powerful as him was due, and the potential he was shown to have... It abruptly gets into the territory of Dany having her whole Stallion That Mounts the World prophecy for the son she lost... I've not watched the TV show since it diverged so wildly I couldn't hack it any more, but the books with everyone wondering if, like, Jon Snow was this guy instead, etc, picking this that and the other guy... what if Dany's lost child WAS the only one it applied to and the prophecy just fizzled out? ASoIaF looms over Jack's narrative... He's literally been framed against an Iron Throne in the past, and his character arc for parts of season 13 was a sort of anti-Joffrey in many ways. And then in death, GRRM's unromantic look at fairytales and heroic narratives comes for him too, that maybe it doesn't always happen like the stories say...

... but of course, he also has LotR coding, and in THAT regard, Sam Gamgee has his good old speech about the heroes in the stories and how we relate to them and are inspired by them and become them. The stories that matter. And Jack's was supposed to be one of those. In a way, their lives have been so epic that Jack mostly having a personal impact rather than a cosmic one seems wrong to them. That he didn't become the great hero of his own story, but was a tragic hero who ran a dramatic but personal arc and burned out because his asshole father killed him and his asshole uncle presumably finished him off with an experiment in grace transfusion. At least if my dashboard is to be believed :P It's inconcievable to TFW, the "making it up as we go" people who tore up the script and threw away the pages, that they can't just make this happen or that Jack didn't serve some great purpose. Even men as weary of Destiny as they are, struggle. Just because that was their lives, so how could the son of all three of them not follow in all his fathers' footsteps?

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"Jack being taken before his time... Being taken before *me*" Cas shut the fuck up.

But that is the speech from Theoden, and once again Sam is Gandalf, which is fucking hilarious that Sam's been Gandalf TWICE this episode.

Ever it's grown on the tombs of my forebears...

you have four bears???

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God dammit that joke didn't stop me crying as they go knock their glasses together and hold Jack's lil 3 dads wake

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3 Dads Wake is a great name for a whiskey

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God, Cas is drinking.

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CAS.

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They need to give him like one bottle to every finger of whiskey they drink but dammit if they don't get Cas loaded.

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Letting them talk privately about how aweomse Jack was and not letting us hear it is a crime

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Listen you don't even know me if you didn't think as soon as the nougat appeared on screen I didn't hit pause and sob for a whole minute with my hands over my face

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Officially worse than bobby and the goddamn licorice conversation

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Cas laughing with caramel hanging out of his mouth is the worst thing the sho whas ever done and I'm suing for emotional damage

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Imagine being one of the bitter stans who hates one or more of TFW or Jack right now watching this scene. God, are you even human. They're eating Jack's secret nougat stash they all pretended they didn't know he had.

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I can't believe I'm now thinking that Lily showing up will probably be a lighthearted way to bring up the mood of the episode.

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Cas is offficially wobbly! We have Cas tipsyness!!

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Sam tapping out first. Oh no. Don't leave. Don't.

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Fuck you Sam Winchester how dare you canonically be the most lightweight of TFW consistently for the entire show and need to go crash off the side of your bed and sleep on the floor while Dean n Cas are still drinking together.

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Did Dean seriously outdrink Cas.

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Well that's... something.

I am gonna cling to that like a rock in the churning sea I have walked out into.

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Also I managed to calm myself down with walking around my room taking deep breaths so I could go downstairs pretending not to be a wreck, so I could get tea, and my mum made me finish the sudoku for her. I don't have the heart to show her this episode. She loves Jack more than anyone in this god damn fandom and maybe more than Cas does. Maybe I'll lie to her and say the show ended last episode and Jack was fine hahahahaaaa

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OH FUCK I hit play and there was a single line of dialogue for the whole wake. Dean drunkenly slurring to Cas, I think, you know we did everything we could, right?

I'm...

*walks further out into the ocean*

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"Here's to you Jack, wherever you are" I am not okay.

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Oh fork you Meredith we did not need to see the boy in Heaven eating burgers.

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Oh fork you Meredith we did not need to see the boy in Heaven eating burgers while on a case with all of his dads.

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OH SON OF A BENCH THIS IS THE DODGE CITY CASE AKA 13x06 MEREDITH YOU DINK.

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Oh dear, Heaven is broken. Who was the ashhole who was saying that Jack should die so that he can go to Heaven so he's well-placed to help deal with all this nonsense.

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LOL Jack would be the sort of person who goes to Heaven and doesn't need more than a second of prompting to be  like oh wait I am dead and in Heaven, and just, like... Go open the door. Just pop his head out like cooee I wanna hang with my dads anyone here to replace the bulb in the sun so I can carry on hanging out here for eternity?

Like, seriously, I'm dead, this is when I am supposed to catch a break.

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Let The Boy Say Fork.

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Listen, secondary to his power to be adopted by everyone on sight, Jack is uncanny also with just walking into trouble.

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And to try and be clam for a moment, this is Jack getting pulled back into the story, but not just by unfortunate happenstance, because he was the one with the sharpness, the cosmic awareness even on this level that Heaven just doesn't quiiiiite work for him in the way it's supposed to even if say it was at full power, that he is the one who voluntarily not just understands instantly that something is wrong, but then is fully snapped back to his old self, and chooses to open the door, and that is the moment of choosing to continue his story, at least for now.

It's like how the last time we saw Bobby chronologically was in Inside Man and Cas and Sam woke him from his repose and got the fighting spirit back into him enough to open his own door and rejoin the story for one last hurrah... And it was a choice there too, a moment of once more telling the natural order to screw itself, Bobby could step outside the proscribed ending of his narrative one last time.

Unless Jack finds him and is adopted on sight today.

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Sam looks way too healthy.

Invigorated by having a Plan

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Lils. Finally getting to see the Bunker filled with all her stolen research notes.

And no that wasn't canon before, but boy am I hoping she recognises her research amongst all the bunker's angel lore.

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Men stealing fuckin everything

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"We've never looked through Kevin's angel tablet translations"

HAVEN'T WE?

NO

WE HAVEN'T

THEY HAVE BEEN THERE

FIVE

FUCKING

YEARS

And every forking time something comes up where they might be useful I say, HEY WHAT ABOUT KEVIN'S ANGEL TABLET TRANSLATIONS?

and the show says

hey so we don't have the angel tablet but we do have the demon tablet

and I'm like I'm sure that won't have any dumb side effects that could be avoided by having the angel tablet translation just on hand in your archive

did Meredith hear me screeching

because I screeched very very loud after 13x14

13x13 sorry

that was Bucklemming handing her the wrong fucking tablet

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this is bitter vindication but feels even better than her and Bobo remembering the grace extracting needle in 12x19

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Glynn is a fucking gift.

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On the other hand this episode now is pulling on 9x06 and 12x10 at once and that makes me feel woozy

I can't deal with a Glockeybo combo

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Also waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah Kevin's handwriting. I can't deal with that AND Bobby memories AND FUCKING NOUGAT DEATH

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Which I mean I do feel instantly better about once he opened the door and let himself back into the story and I stopped crying at once and cheered up and Lily is indeed providing much needed relief, wild as that all sounds.

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Lily trying to explain her soul magic to Sam and Dean, rubes who haven't done a single enochian calculation in their lives.

Wait, no, Sam has done one, in ... 12x19 ...

But yeah, a rube and a completely self-taught asshole who knows like one thing about it.

And she's like oh yeah just use his soul and they're like AAH WTF LILY and she's like er this is the most obvious thing in the world what is the problem here

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where are my cas reaction shots

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Jack wearing an eyepatch for the rest of the show would be adorable and hilarious

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"it won't cost much... he'll never miss it" trust me his soul is enormous and boated with sweet nougat love, he can spare it, guys.

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Dean being able to say "Jack's dead" one day later, when he couldn't say it about Cas practically until he was BACK

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Nice trade. TECHNICALLY nothing dodgy about it at all, at least in the sense that aside from resurrection consent issues from Jack, once he's back the choice is still on him to choose to grow old and die as Lily has done, or even to stop using the magic to sustain himself and die again immediately if he is squicked out by it... Or it all comes from trading on his OWN soul power.

Definitely better than demon deals or having any favours looming over them etc

And with Heaven in the state it's in, honestly sending Lily there might be easier than they think if NO ONE IS LEFT TO RUN IT.

Er, imminent ghostpocalypse issues aside.

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We're in ghostpocalypse territory as of a minute ago show time, btw.

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Cas has quietly observed all this chatter and we get back to him when he says, "Don't you think Jack should decide for himself" so honestly Cas is right there with me, and I always like when me and Cas are the ones agreeing on a thing in the episode.

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Obligatory reminder that Sam is more aware than most about soul stuff

*takes another piece of coal off the pile I was going to send Meredith for ruining christmas*

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HEY, ANUBIS.

Don't tell him about what they did to Osiris

Unless that would amuse him

Wait never mind Meredith is literally throwing in amusing snark about 7x04 which I think when Adam Glass disowned that episode (despite how I actually think it's really good and he was too hard on it) he never expected anyone would ever want to throw in amused references about it in canon ever again.

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"When God left - sorry, long story - " Lily is one of the few people who seems able to conceptually roll with the nonsense TFW deals in all day.

She should join the squad. Always room for a 100 year old badass with deep enochian lore knowledge.

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I'm sorry has Jack crashed Kelly's heaven or is this a rando little girl. I immediately thought she was Kelly in the long shot and they substituted a lil girl for POV when we got closer and actually had to go back and look again and she was the little girl all along.

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This also conceptually looks so much like Cas's eternal tuesday afternoon.. A rainy, flower-filled garden.

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Roosevelt looks SO much like the doggie in 11x20 aside from anything else

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IT IS KELLY

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This is horrifying since they never ever got to meet ever until now and I'm suing Meredith

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I mean I'm already suing her but I'm just adding this to the list of complaints. My laywers are working overtime on this episode.

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FORK!! THEY GOT HER BACK FROM LEGENDS OF TOMORROW FOR A DAY!!!!

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Can Kelly and Jack go on a rampage around Heaven to fix things?

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Her hair is suspiciously darker from the back which I think is her Legends look from the gifs I've seen

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Wait, Bobby had a forking dog called Rumsfeld, and Kelly has Roosevelt.

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"Hi mom you're dead"

".......................................................... NOooOoOooooOOoo No no no baby no"

Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

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Dean resisting the spell and complainging "gotta happen, no other way" is making me feel like the Heaven Drama is going to smack them right before they can get it all done and give them a LOT MORE to worry about than Jack but also give them a roundabout way to see him again and also, of course, mean Lily might be useful for an entirely other purpose while she's here...

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Dean right now is rationalising this through the lens of that all their terrible deals have been terrible and that this is just one more step on the Winchester life and death merry-go-round, and of course that Jack is about to get the full family treatment he deserves. But that's the Winchester lens of looking at things that even when deaths are brutal and lives cut unfairly short, there's going to be a way to bring them back if they haven't finished their stories. John finished his, in 2x22 seeing Dean get the revenge he needed to be at peace, but everyone else...

Is it ethically right to put Jack on that merry-go-round when he smiled sweetly and died with as much enthusiasm as he gave pretty much everything in his life?

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The table lamps are out in the bunker D: them being dark is so ominous

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And Cas shows up like shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit something worse going on guys

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They're so casual about just summoning gods into their front room these days

Of course they're doing it in the spot in front of the door with the war room behind in one direction... The opposite end of the library to where they opened the rift.

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Sam picks his way through the wet paint but Dean stands right in the centre of this circle for SUMMONING THE GOD WHO DECIDES WHO LIVES AND DIES AND WHERE THEY GO to have this lil chat with Lil?

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And now Dean steps out of it and corners her with the obvious question - what's wrong with your magic and why are you risking going to Hell to stop using it entirely?

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I'm so sorry you have to look at more dead angels, Cas

I'm also so sorry they were killed by black slime because wow after season 7 that was a laugh and a half for you

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... Can you swear in the hallways of Heaven?

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DUMA LIVES

(probably "for now" though hopefully longer than that)

Ma'am are you aware you have a Nougat on the loose too

I'd love it if Cas is like hi what's happening also have you seen my son

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This actress needs to come back for a 3rd time to follow Dean around in a crisis moment.

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OH NO now Cas is coming to the heaven memory and seeing what Jack considered his best memory

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YEAH. I knew Naomi would show up, I just didn't know when :D

(She wasn't in the credits as far as I could tell but I already sort of knew they were leaving people off? Or maybe I was thinking lol I bet Amanda Tapping is in this episode and they won't tell us... On the other hand she mAY have been in the credits but I was WEEPING MY EYES OUT so didn't clock her despite my efforts to hold myself together and see who was coming up on screen)

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Naomi doesn't have the most dramatic entrance on the show but she sure is racking up points for good entrances one at a time each time she appears. She never just, like... toddles onto screen normally.

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"Perhaps the angel side of him knew he was in Heaven" honestly the most tragic thing I was trying not to think about is that he knew the entire time but he was willing to play along and enjoy hanging with his dads for eternity despite that.

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Oh man it's another dispute over who owns Jack. Is this kid never going to be allowed to just sit and eat burgers and nougat? (Hopefully not at the same time)

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Also based on last episode where it seemed like the Empty was awakening but had Lucifer's eyes and we were all NOOO fork that!! is there some more complicated forked up aspect to what's going on or is it just itself and awake and coming for Jack?

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I love how Naomi just casually knows how many people are in Heaven

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"What's one nephilim boy against all that?" "But he's MY nephilim boy!!"

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OH NO NAOMI

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NOT LIKE THIIIIIS

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We better get an answer on her state by the end of the episode because she's my fave villain bar Metatron on the entire show and devouring her in shadow is just... yikes.

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"give it a sec" *POOF* Anubis is prompt, okay.

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He probably honestly is somewhat slighted that they're 14 years into their career and he hasn't clapped eyes on them.

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"Yeah, we've died." "A LOT."

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I honestly, at this point, do not blame them for their lax attitude towards the permanence of death. They need a lot of counselling they're not getting and until they do they really are going to always be terrible at this.

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A brief moment where Anubis is like, am I going to get Flirty Banter with Dean Winchester?? and he looks at him and Dean's eyes are all dead and "my son is dead" and Anubis sighs like welp not today oh well better luck next time, if I survive this...

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Getting flirty banter with Dean is a sign of high honour and takes you to some very interesting places.

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Into Dean if you stick with it like Crowley did

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And Lily's been standing there this whole time like wow these boys suck up all the attention in the room and I kinda hate them

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Oh I LOVE this abacus. Is this some nerdy ass research that meredith did to know better than most what to expect here? Even I haven't heard this one, though I haven't really revisited Egypt lore after the expected Egyptology phase as a kid...

Anyway the half white half black beads are super interesting in a wider show symbolism way.

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Oh deeear, Lily.

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Of course that instantly makes you fascinated about what would happen if TFW stuck their hands over it.

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What a good line on the show's philosophy about making your own fate - it's not destiny or a choice from above or anything like that. Your individual actions get you sent to Heaven or Hell in the natural course of things and it's weighed in such a way all he can do is use his equipment to read which way you're going... Everything else is down to you. Free Will, write your own story.

Of course, if Lily did some huge sacrifice I bet she could change things.

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CAS LAUGHED

ugh this episode should be banned.

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If you hug Kelly I'm rioting.

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Everyone who ever hugs Cas slaps their hands firmly on Misha's broad shoulders like it's law and digs in and I don't know if it's because Cas has this wonderful presence about him that even when you're around Misha acting him in the moment you get swept up in it, or you just want to hug Misha like that, but Cas hugs look like the most amazing hugs in the universe and everyone just GOES for it.

Also I am typing this nonsense because I literally used up my box of tissues earlier and the next option is stealing a roll of toilet paper. So I will snark and try and ward off the sobbing.

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"I'm so sorry. I failed you." Kelly, who has spent about 5 minutes in Jack's presence and understands his nature even beyond her blind faith in him from before but now gets to see the evidence of it: "You didn't. You didn't."

Yes, please can more characters tell Cas that he did a good job even when things don't quite go to plan. Dean's drunken slurring about how they did the best they could, this...

Kelly tells Cas how wonderful Jack is like Cas doesn't know and Cas breaks up.

And you know what this looks like and I'm not going to survive typing this and can already feel my eyeballs filling up with water... 10x20 and Jimmy and Amelia talking about Claire at the end of the episode oh god I hate it take it away from me.

-

Oh good Cas telling Jack we need you alive to fix Heaven but just in a passive way where you not being dead means the Empty backs the fuck off rather than you having to DO anything

-

Ooops the Empty is here as Dumas. I suspect she's not surviving this episode but MAYBE Naomi survives.

-

I am saying with full wishful thinking after seeing her completely consumed by black goo

-

I do like the concept of "THERE ARE MAJOR STAKES TO RESURRECT THE BOY. BRING HIM BACK THIS INSTANT. LITERALLY SAVE THE UNIVERSE BY BRINGING THE NOUGAT SON BACK TO EARTH." because that makes it so much different from "hey bring me back and maybe accidentally unleash some terrible evil in the process but we'll deal with it later  because that's what we do"

-

"HE'S OUR KID" Sam snaps

I hate it, thanks

For the love of god appeal to  her more as a fellow parent.

-

Dean DIRECTLY EQUATES Jack and May

Hold me

-

Equating no soul to not being human in front of Sam aka our no soul test case. Owie. Another reminder of just how hard Dean took it in season 6 until he got Sam back, all that skin crawling feeling of being around him...

You know what? Jack reminds me of the sort of example nice ensoulled Sam stuff we saw in 6x12 when Jared was allowed to play over the top sweet and uncomplicted for a few scenes, just to be a total contrast to how he'd been acting thus far in the season. Of course, we saw him for like 3 scenes of Dean smiling in pure relief when Sam did Nice Things before it all got complicated again, and Jack's been a long-time character :P But Sam does have a sweet street that when it emerges in the rare times it can be uncomplicated, is I think the closest equivalent to where Jack's innocent sweetness is drawn from. He's the son of Sam's puppy dog eyes specifically.

But yeah I think Lily just needs to have this resistance and anger about it all to make it so much more of a flip if she were to decide to do the spell, so that it counts as an even gooder good deed to MAYBE flip her chances. By giving her a good work to do.

And hey maybe if she meets Jack for a minute she'll love him and then be changed by the experience and go out and do more good things etc etc.

-

DUMAS IS SO GOOD AT BEING CREEPY!!

-

Misha hammed the FORK out of being the Empty and now she has to live up to it and she IS.

-

CAS don't fight the Empty by trying to stab it, fight the Empty by humming this is the song that never ends.

-

*makes a disgruntled sad noise about being forced to see Jack laid out on a table in his cute lil PJs with his cute lil socks*

-

Wait, if Lily does this spell does this mean she's using up the last of her soul to do it and going to the Empty anyway?

-

ANGRY LIONESS KELLY COMING TO YELL AT THE EMPTY AND GIVE IT A PIECE OF HER MIND

I've just paused after her yelling "STOP" but whatever happens next, she leaped in when Cas was getting kicked around and that's BAD ASS.

-

Hitting Kelly is like... probably a rage button Jack didn't even know he had so I would like to see how that goes over, but we cut to them trying to resurrect him.

-

I forking love how this is 2 seasons in a row where the message seems to be that you live to spite nihilism and the bitter end of death.

-

D'aw even though Sam said they'd pray it was Dean who used prayer to reach out to Cas in Heaven to give him that heads up. Like, totally practical rather than the sort of prayer he's made before to Cas that was all emotional appeal, but, let's save our son, huh?

-

CAS NO DON'T SAY THAT

The Empty might also really want to think about that because it knows you forking suck to keep around so trading yourself for Jack is like... really? do I really want that? :P

-

"Not for years. EONS, MAYBE." Cas, bud. I love you. I want you to stay alive that long. Do you really forking think that with the life you lead you have eons left? I mean it's really heartening to hear you talk about yourself this way. But I have to ask.

-

The Empty telling Cas that it'll come for him when he finally lets himself be happy is forking hilarious. Cas hasn't been happy once in his life and he doesn't plan to start now. Eons, maybe.

Just like that, he's unlocked eternal, grumpy life. Take notes, Lily.

-

I mean on a practical level this is basically like, yeah, this is why Destiel isn't canon, because as soon as Cas allows himself to be happy, he's ALWAYS known he gets punished for it. In 4x20 he rebelled for Dean and was instantly dragged back by Naomi... This sense of another mission, never belonging, always being on the outside and not getting the emotional resolution he needs, and actively running from it at times or throwing himself in the way of danger to make Dean be happy without him... it's interesting honestly that the Empty is here as Duma and not Naomi as she's been the agent of hoiking him back from happiness enough times in canon... And that fear of losing everything as soon as you're happy? That's what first kept Dean from Jack and then as soon as he really truly fathered Jack, happened to him. Like, that's Team Free Will's entire life story, starting with Jess, to date, here with the Empty making this threat.

-

Duma survived!!

-

Cas... really could have just bought a few minutes to do the spell rather than given himself that burden >.>

But he's determined to make a more lasting sacrifice, one that ensures this won't happen again with Jack, that he can always die whenever he wants and go to Heaven and not be bothered here.

-

Oops Jack's angry now. Now he's seen a dad sacrifice for him, he's suddenly got a case of the Winchester Angsts. Dean in season 2, for starters. Not a good place to be D: Dean in season 2 is proportionately his worst season.

-

I'm not crying because I think I already died earlier in the episode, but that was... truly awful... to watch Cas tell Jack he's at peace with it and he loves him and everyone loves him and then Kelly butts in like I LOVE YOU TOO and mom him a bit with straightening his jacket and hugging him and... UGH.

-

Lily has either the start of a heart attack or loses her soul entirely in the background and wanders into a corner to die? Er.

-

OH HEY WE ALSO MANAGED TO GET THE WORST DEAN HUG SINCE 2x22 WHEN HE GRABS JACK. NEVER SEEN HIM HUG LIKE THAT BEFORE, DON'T WANT TO SEE IT AGAIN THANKS

-

Nope, she just dieded.

Let's hope she went to heaven and we get a super corny young Lily surprise Alicia Witt return moment at the end since this episode is just throwing everything at it.

-

It's Anubis' office!!!

Wow, that's a noisy annoying place to work

Still, I LOVE these visualisations of where the cosmic forces of the universe work

-

I called it super corny but I'm DYING to see Lily's fate change.

-

"Say hello to your daughter for me" DOn't make me cry about Lily please I beg you I am run dry

-

OH THANK GOD NAOMI SURVIVED. Hooooooraaaaay!!!!!!! Oh this is a wonderful ending to a perfect episode to not have to deal with her having being consumed and left dead off-screen somewhere.

-

LOL that slam as he realises what's up and even though she obviously can do what she wants, he's still protectively closing Kelly's door to put a barrier between her and Naomi.

-

"I'm here to thank you"

Oldest trope in the book, but I love when they look over their shoulder to see if "you" is someone else, and Cas, unflappable Cas, in Naomi's presence, still checks the infinite empty corridor.

-

*double checks*

"...... you're welcome?"

Wheee unlocked new plot for altrusim!

-

Ahahaaaahaaaaaaaaa Jack wrapped in a fluffy grey robe. Listen. I am

not

okay.

Jack with his burger and Dean's dead guy robe, spitefully living...

-

I bet Dean made the burger

-

WHY did I type that when I knew how likely it was to make my eyes burn.

-

I did not cry at the last scene of them all at the table so I am going to eat extra cookies at lunch as a reward.

And Jack and Cas sharing a little glance, knowing what Cas did. Father and Son's first dire family secret! :')

-

And gently roll the camera away to credits to leave them to their happy little scene.

-

Presumably with a slow fade so you can fumble for some more tissues.

Gyah.

#14x08 #season 14 spoilers #I am angry about how in the last 3 seasons multiple episodes have wandered around like hi I am the new best episode of the series #make up your MIND #remember when Baby felt weird like it was the first in years that had smashed the season 5 barrier of where all the Best Episodes were #and like aside from 6x11 and 7x10 we'd long passed the episodes that were utter stand outs in their field? #and now you have a like 50:50 gamble you're just going to walk into the Best Episode of the Show #it's fucking annoying #my stuff

[high-queen-margo]

Just to Bring You Home

Summary: After Margo is attacked in Fillory, Fen convinces her to hire a personal bodyguard. She chooses someone from a world she's been trying to forget. Prompt fill for @mintealesbian on @themagiciansprompts Pairing: Margo/Kady Length: 5,183 

Read on AO3

Kady ambled through the halls of Castle Whitespire, popping her head into each room she passed. It seemed awfully empty for an active royal castle, but she’d come as soon as she got the bunny’s message—well, as soon as Julia had relayed it to her after the hungover dead sleep she’d been in.

“Hey,” she called to a man walking the opposite direction down the hall, “do you know where Margo is? She’s not in the throne room. She asked me to come.”

“Oh dear,” the man said. “You haven’t heard? She was attacked early this morning. I’ll escort you to her bedroom.”

“Attacked?” Kady’s heart lurched. There’d been no mention of any danger in the bunny’s message. Maybe she should have taken it more urgently. “Is she okay?”

“Yes,” the man said. “The assassination attempt was unsuccessful and the attacker has been detained. The High King is simply recovering.” He stopped at a large, elaborate set of doors with two guards stationed outside. “Here you are, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” Kady said. She pushed the door open to find Margo asleep in bed, the rest of the room empty. Somehow, she hadn’t expected to see this. She’d expected to find Margo bitching about the situation, setting up measures to fortify the castle, figuring out a plan of action while she was undoubtedly unable to perform some of her duties, not…sleeping and vulnerable. Kady didn’t think she’d ever actually seen Margo asleep before.

She didn’t know what to do. Margo had called for her, so maybe she should wake her up, but it had taken her a while to get there. Margo probably needed what rest she could get, anyway.

She sat down on a chair left beside the bed to wait. Margo really did look more peaceful as she slept; her eyebrows had softened, her muscles relaxed, her eyes flitting gently beneath their lids. She could see now why Eliot called her Bambi.

Margo started when she finally opened her eyes and noticed Kady so close to her bed. “Jesus,” she said, “if I’d have known you wanted to give me a heart attack I wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“Sorry,” Kady said, “I didn’t want to wake you up. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

Margo pulled herself up to sit against her pillows. “You can only send so many words with messenger bunnies,” she said. “It’s not like I’m dying. I just have a favor to ask.”

“Okay?”

“Fen is insisting I need a personal guard.” Margo paused. “I know battle magic is your thing, and magic is kind of unreliable right now, but I’ve seen you fight hand-to-hand. You’re strong, you’re skilled, and I know you well enough to trust you won’t try to murder me. I know it’s a big ask, but—”

“I’ll do it,” Kady said.

Margo narrowed her eyes. “That was way too easy. What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Kady said. “I need to get away from Earth for a while, and here I can do something I’m good at.”

“Perfect,” Margo said. “I’d say you can wait until I’m back on my feet, but Fen’s overbearing ass wants someone with me 24/7 starting yesterday. It’s gonna be pretty boring for a little while, so sorry about that.”

“I don’t really care,” Kady said. “So, what exactly happened today? How did someone manage to pull one over on you?”

“About that,” Margo said. “I won the election in a landslide, but I failed to consider the fact that most of the people who voted against me were…well, humans, who can throw knives with their hands. Sneaky bastard took me by surprise on my way to a summit and caught me twice before I could block it.”

Kady hesitated, then said, “Can I see?” She almost regretted asking—it was a strange request and she had no real reason to want to see the wound—but she was curious.

Margo gave her an odd look, but gingerly pulled her loose nightshirt up to reveal the sutured gashes along her abdomen. Kady impulsively reached out to run her fingers along the unmarked skin beside one of the wounds as she leaned closer to get a better look.

“Damn,” she said, “these look bad.”

“You should have seen them when they were hemorrhaging,” Margo said, tugging her shirt back down. “Totally ruined my dress.”

“This isn’t funny,” Kady said. “I’ve seen people die from wounds like this.”

“Relax,” Margo said, “they took care of all the bleeding before magic ran out. Why is this freaking you out so bad?”

Kady shook her head. Why did it freak her out to think that Margo could have died? It was all hypothetical; she was here, healing, and the threat was gone, and by all accounts she had nothing to worry about even if they were close, and they weren’t. They never had been, and Kady was always just fine with that.

“I don’t know,” she said eventually. “I’m just glad you’re okay, I guess.”

Margo hummed. “Thanks, I guess. Now, it’s late, and I don’t normally share a bed with people I’m not sleeping with, but it’s big enough for both of us if you want to get some rest.”

“Is that a good idea?” Kady said, gesturing toward Margo’s wounds. She wasn’t sure she even needed sleep, but it was as good a way to pass time as any. If she’d be working as a bodyguard, she should probably get on a normal sleep schedule anyway.

Margo shrugged. “I’ve seen you passed out in the Cottage lounge enough to know you sleep like a rock. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Kady said. “If you’re sure.”

“I truly couldn’t give less of a shit,” Margo said, but Kady thought she saw a small smile when she stood up to get in on the other side of the bed.

***

Kady woke up before Margo, and the first thing she noticed was the light thrumming in the air she’d become accustomed to detecting since magic came into short supply. She slipped out of the room, asked the guards to tell Margo where she went if she woke up, and began searching the halls for someone she knew. She’d really have to learn the layout of the castle soon if she wanted to stay there.

Fen was in the great hall talking to someone Kady didn’t recognize, and when she saw Kady come in, she waved them away.

“Kady, right?” Fen said. “Margo asked you to guard her?”

“Yeah,” Kady said. “And I am. I just thought I’d let you know some of the magic is back, so your healers can finish working on her when she wakes up.”

“Oh, good,” Fen said. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll send them in shortly.”

“No problem,” Kady said. “And, Fen? Thank you for looking out for her. I’ve lost people I cared about before and I don’t want to lose another.”

“I didn’t know you were so close,” Fen said. “She needs someone like that after Eliot. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m kind of afraid…”

“What?”

“Margo is smart,” Fen said. “She’s resourceful, and she knows how to defend herself. It just…crossed my mind yesterday that she may have been so unconcerned about getting hurt because she doesn’t care anymore.”

“Because Eliot is gone.” Kady sighed. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Please just make sure she’s safe,” Fen said. “I care about her, but…there’s not a lot I can do to protect her.”

“I will,” Kady said. “I promise.”

***

“Are you sure you’re ready to try another summit?”

Kady snuck a glance in the mirror as Margo changed into one of her elaborate dresses. The scars on her stomach looked years old after the magical healing, though it had only been a month since the attack.

“I’ve been stuck within the castle grounds for way too long and if I have to stay here another minute without getting some goddamn change of scenery I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

Kady raised her hands in mock surrender. “It was just a question,” she said. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Not to mention,” Margo continued, gathering a sack of scrolls she’d been studying through the week, “if the Lorians and Fairies don’t settle this little dick-measuring contest of theirs, we’ll be trapped in the middle, and that’s gonna be a huge load of shit I’ll need to clean up myself.”

“Yeah, that would suck,” Kady said.

“Can you go make sure the horses are ready?” Margo said. “The regular ones. We don’t ride the ones who can talk—not on business, anyway.”

“Riding?” Kady said. “As in, out in the open, where you got attacked last time?”

“You’re my bodyguard, not my mother,” Margo said. “Do your job and it should be fine, right?”

Kady sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Then we’re taking a different route than you did before.”

“Whatever. There are a billion of them,” Margo said. She drew one of the scrolls out of the sack and handed it to Kady. “Here’s a map. Take your pick.”

Kady unrolled the map and studied it while Margo fastened a plain black cloak over her dress. It was hard to tell which paths would be best, but she settled on one arcing in the opposite direction from the main road.

Margo’s horse, which Kady didn’t even know she had, was a dapple gray Andalusian mare with an impossibly long mane and tail. She swung up into the saddle with surprisingly practiced ease, and it struck Kady how comfortable Margo was in this world. It was no longer the fantasy world of a children’s book; it was Margo’s world, literally, and it was no wonder she came back here after her best friend died. Kady wondered how long she would have to live here before she considered it home, too.

Kady mounted the black gelding the stable hand had picked out for her and they set off at a brisk trot through the Fillorian backwoods.

“I didn’t know you even knew how to ride,” Kady said.

“I learned after I got here,” Margo said. “The castle staff said a proper queen should know how, so they taught me. It’s faster than a carriage, anyway.” She paused. “When did you learn? You don’t seem the type.”

Kady snorted. “I’m not,” she said. “I had rich kid friends upstate in middle school and they forced me into it every time I came over.”

“Sounds tragic,” Margo said. “That’s not sarcasm, by the way. Little rich kids are the worst. I would know; I was one of them.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”

Kady didn’t miss the little smirk Margo gave at the comment before changing the subject.

“I like the route you picked,” Margo said. “We’ll be crossing this bridge over a section of the Burnt River. It’s got a great view; there’s nothing like it on Earth.”

“The Burnt River?” Kady said. “It doesn’t sound that great.”

“It’s a misnomer,” Margo said. “Like Iceland. It sounds ugly, but, well…you’ll see.”

Kady could hear the river long before she could see it. She thought by the volume of the rushing water it had to be right around the corner, but the sound grew louder until she could barely hear Margo’s voice, and only then did the bridge come into view.

While the river itself stretched far below the arched wooden bridge, swathes of land on the opposite cliff hung over the side, coated in vibrant green-orange mosses, water pouring down them in an unbroken glass sheet for as far as Kady could see in either direction. The bridge disappeared into a tunnel carved through the cliff face, where dim light shone from its distant exit.

Margo rode ahead of her onto the bridge and turned around. “See?” she called. “What did I tell you?”

“I mean, I don’t usually care much about the outdoors, but…yeah, this is really something.” Kady’s eyes fell from the waterfall to Margo, whose hair was beginning to collect crystalline drops of water from the spray.

“It’s too bad we can’t stop and take in all the natural beauty or whatever,” Margo said, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. “There’s always shit to do.” She waited a moment, then said, “Well, are you coming or not?”

Kady blinked and tamped down the uncomfortable fullness in her chest as she kicked her horse back into motion. She followed Margo under the waterfall and through the tunnel until they emerged into the open grasslands on the other side.

“Just about another hour before we get there,” Margo said. “By the way, I have no idea how long this meeting will last, so we might have to stay overnight at the encampment. They’ll have food and tents, so we won’t have to deal with hunting ourselves, but it’s not very comfortable. Just a heads up.”

“Will it be safe if other people are staying there?”

“I don’t see why not,” Margo said. “We’re allies. They don’t have any reason to come after me, and they’d never get away with it if they tried.” They rode in silence for a few moments, then she continued, “You know I don’t have angry mobs clamoring to kill me all the time, right? It never happened before last month. I doubt it’ll happen again anytime soon.”

Kady sighed and picked at a bit of flaking leather from her saddle horn. “Look,” she said, “I don’t know much about this place. I don’t even know you as well as I’d like to. I just know you almost died and when I found out, I felt…I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I was scared.”

Margo halted her horse in front of Kady. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Kady said. “What happened to being in a hurry?”

“Don’t avoid the question. Why were you scared? You’re supposed to be the fearless one.” Margo sat tall in her saddle, staring Kady down with an expression she couldn’t read. She clearly wouldn’t be moving until Kady gave in.

“You’re kidding.” Fearless—sure, it was a mask she tried to wear as often as possible, but she was far from it. She’d been living in fear for as long as she could remember. “You know what?” she said. “I do know. I thought of never seeing you again, and that scared me. I know we barely said a word to each other before I came here, but the moment I found out what happened, I just…couldn’t stand it. Our fucked up little group has been through so much together and I care about you, okay? Maybe more than I thought I did.”

Margo didn’t move; Kady could tell she hadn’t been anticipating that kind of response. Kady herself trembled slightly, gripping the reins in her hands tightly enough that her horse shifted nervously beneath her.

“Kady—”

“We should get going,” Kady said, her voice steeled and distant. She turned her horse back onto the path and kicked him into a canter before Margo could get another word out.

***

The voices of the summit leaders carried through the canvas tent walls, where Kady sat shielded from the glare of the setting sun, whittling a tree branch down to a point. She should have brought something to do; she didn’t have a watch, but the meeting must have been going for hours already. It was hard to hold out hope that they’d make it back to the castle tonight when there was so little daylight left—not that Kady was mentally prepared for the three-hour ride back. Neither of them had spoken much the remainder of the trip there, and she didn’t know how to dissipate the awkwardness.

Kady threw the branch onto a pile of other makeshift spears and ducked out of the tent. The leaders sat around a small table as they talked about delegation and resources, their people milling about the encampment doing God-knows-what. Kady strode toward the table and grabbed a random bottle off of it before returning to the tent.

“Excuse me—”

“Chill,” Margo’s quiet voice said. “It’s fine.”

Kady took a swig from the bottle and grimaced; she wasn’t sure, but she thought it was supposed to be some kind of whiskey, though the flavor was awful. Apparently, Fillorians just didn’t care enough about alcohol to make it taste good, but it would do the trick.

By the time the meeting concluded, night had fallen and the encampment was lit only by oil lamps and candles. Kady’s tent was dark; she lay in her bedroll, unable to fall asleep but unwilling to join the friendly gathering outside after a successful summit. Her head spun from the shitty alcohol, and she didn’t realize anyone had come into the tent until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Kady?” Margo said. “Are you awake?”

Kady almost responded, but she stayed still on her side, her eyes closed. She didn’t want to deal with conversation at the moment; whatever it was Margo wanted, it could wait until morning if it wasn’t urgent.

“Okay,” Margo murmured, “good. I’m sorry I forced you to talk earlier. The truth is, I don’t know how to deal with people caring about me. I thought…I thought Eliot was the only one, maybe Fen, but it’s easy to assume she only cares because I’m the king or because I was Eliot’s friend.” She sighed. “I know it’s kind of fucked up I can only admit this now, but maybe if I do it’ll be easier to say it to your face later. So thank you. For caring about me. And I care about you too.”

Margo squeezed her shoulder once, and then she was gone.

***

Kady didn’t bring up what she’d heard the previous night. She saddled her horse silently, searching her admittedly small repertoire of conversation starters for something she could use to pretend yesterday never happened. She had to scrape the bottom of the barrel as she followed Margo out of the encampment.

“So the summit went well, right?” Kady said.

Margo glanced at her out of the corner of her eye before staring ahead at the path. “If you can call six hours of negotiations that ultimately ended up with an agreement for the exact terms we had before ‘well,’ then yeah,” she said. “It’s fine, though; at least tensions are down. Shouldn’t be any problems between the other nations for a while.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Margo said. “So, um…that was fairy whiskey you took last night. How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” Kady said. “The fuck did they put in it?”

“They’ve got different grains in their world. Fucked me up the first time I tried it too, not that it tastes remotely okay to humans anyway.”

“Yeah,” Kady said, “I, uh…probably should have stopped sooner than I did, but. Old habits.”

“For future reference, I can’t defend you every time you take something out from under a fairy’s nose,” Margo said. “Everyone here has a temper out the ass, and that’s coming from me, so be careful.”

“Right,” Kady said. “You’re right. You have enough on your plate; you shouldn’t have to worry about me doing stupid things.”

“It’s whatever,” Margo said. “I’ve just been trapped in a fairy deal I didn’t want before, and if you piss them off they could do a lot worse than give you an impossible choice to make.”

“What deal?” Kady knew Margo had lost her eye to a fairy, but she’d been so busy on the Earth side of things for so long that she never really knew what all had been happening in Fillory.

Margo shook her head. “I got an attitude with the fairies’ ambassador and he lost his damn mind on me. The only way he’d guarantee Eliot’s safety was to agree to something just…awful. And I did it. I’m not proud of it, and it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done, but it was my choice and I have to live with that.” Her voice shook almost imperceptibly and she turned away from Kady. “It didn’t even buy him that much time.”

“Well, whatever it was, I wouldn’t blame you for it,” Kady said. “I’d probably do the same thing. I know how close you were with Eliot; I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through.”

“It’s hard,” Margo said. “God, it’s so hard. I keep thinking he’ll come back somehow, because he always did before, but…I know he won’t this time.”

“I thought we’d be able to get Penny back, too. Our Penny.” Kady sighed. “Sometimes I think magic gives us too much hope.”

Margo snorted and wiped her eyes. “Yeah, you might be on to something.”

“I just can’t bring myself to hate it, though,” Kady said. “It’s the reason Penny is gone, but it’s also the reason I met him. The reason I met Julia. You. If I—”

Kady broke herself off. She searched the woods with her periphery, trying not to turn her head too much.

“If you what?”

“Shh.”

Kady caught another flash of movement to their right. She threw up a shield charm just as an arrow whipped through the trees, then followed it with a carefully aimed magic missile. She held her stance for a moment, waiting for any signs of the attacker, before dismounting her horse and creeping toward the trees. The hollow in the undergrowth where the archer had been waiting was empty, even underneath the small window of a revelation charm.

“Margo,” Kady said. “Go.”

“What? No,” Margo said, sliding out of her saddle. “No way. You’re not staying here alone.”

“Now’s not the time to argue,” Kady murmured, but she didn’t repeat herself. If Margo didn’t want to run, there was no way to make her. She held her hands ready to fire another missile and scanned the trees. “Surrender now if you want to stay alive,” she called.

Another arrow came from the other side of the path in response, and Margo conjured a shield while Kady released the magic missile. This time, she heard the crash of the body hitting tree branches under the force of the spell, but she still found no trace of them when she looked.

“This is bad,” she said. “Watch your back. I think we might be dealing with a traveler.”

Just as the words left her mouth, a man appeared directly in front of Margo, a dagger in his hand. She scarcely managed to conjure another shield before he struck, and his blow glanced off of the magical barrier. Kady felt it then, the magic in the air dwindling to nothing, and Margo’s shield fizzled out.

She’d never moved so fast in her life. She threw herself against Margo, pushing her out of the way, with only her raised arm to block herself from the dagger. She gritted her teeth as the blade carved into her skin and she gathered all of her strength to land a blow of her own to his jaw. He went down, finally, and she stood over his prone body. It wouldn’t be long before he regained consciousness, and then he wouldn’t allow himself to be so easily caught.

Kady knelt down and gripped his head in both hands, then jerked it around until she felt his neck break.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I had to,” Kady said. “When he woke up he’d travel away and then he’d just come back.”

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit about him,” Margo said. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” Kady said. “It’s just my arm.” But with the threat gone, pain flooded through her arm and all along her left side, blood coating her hand and dripping into the dirt.

Margo pulled her cloak off and ripped one of the sleeves off of her dress at the seams. “Here,” she said, “hold your arm out.” Kady did, and Margo pressed the fabric against the wound. “How bad is it?” she said. “Can you tell?”

Kady shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I can move my fingers, so that’s probably a good sign.”

“Okay,” Margo said, “can you ride? Maybe I should find a bunny and call for a carriage.”

“It’s fine,” Kady said again. “If that’s not the same guy who attacked you before, we need to keep moving. They’re obviously working in a group.”

She winced as she gripped her horse’s mane in her hand, the pain shooting more forcefully through her, but she pushed it aside to try to pull herself into the saddle. Her strength failed halfway up and she let her right leg fall back to the ground.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Margo said.

“I’ll just get up on the other side,” Kady said breathlessly, but she stumbled taking her foot out of the stirrup, and she suddenly felt too weak to walk. She held herself up with her arm over the horse’s back and leaned her forehead against his flank.

“Kady, seriously,” came Margo’s voice again, her voice tinged with concern. “Something’s not right.”

No, Kady thought, it’s not. She felt warmth under her nose, and when she wiped it, her hand came away red.

An arm wrapped around Kady’s waist as Margo took on some of her weight and led her away from the horse.

“Come on,” she said, “you can ride with me. Whitespire’s far enough away there should be magic there and we’ll find out what’s wrong. We just have to get there.”

Margo unbuckled the saddle from her horse and dropped it to the ground before boosting Kady up and climbing on in front of her.

“You can hold on to me, right?”

“Yeah,” Kady said, and wrapped her arms around Margo’s waist. She couldn’t get a grip with her wounded arm, but Margo held the reins in one hand and held Kady’s arms against her with the other as she urged the horse forward.

They fell into a gallop within minutes, and each beat of the horse’s hooves jostled more air out of Kady’s body. Her chest felt thick and heavy, as if she were breathing water, and her head swam with the feeling. Maybe she was drowning, but she could still feel Margo in her arms, so she couldn’t be.

“Kady, are you still okay back there?”

Margo’s voice sounded distant, and Kady wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t gather enough breath for it.

“Kady?”

I’m here, Kady thought.

She leaned against Margo’s back, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

***

Kady woke with a new kind of weight on her chest. She felt okay, really. Her arm stung, but it didn’t radiate through her like before. Her head was clear, if achy. She could breathe. The only thing out of the ordinary was the light pressure above her heart.

Her eyes blurred when she opened them and the room gradually came into focus as she blinked the uncomfortable dryness away. Margo’s room. She recognized the latticed windows and cross-vaulted ceiling, and the scent of Margo’s perfume was almost overpowering.

Margo herself lay curled up into Kady’s side, her head resting on her chest and her arm slung over her stomach. Kady supposed she was asleep. She didn’t know why she did it, but she lifted her hand to run her fingers through Margo’s hair, gently combing and stroking it until Margo shifted under her touch.

Kady had only seen Margo look like this once before: her eyes puffy and red, dried tears on her cheeks. It looked like she’d tried to take her makeup off, but remnants of wet mascara shadowed her eyelids.

“Kady,” Margo breathed. “Thank God.” She gathered Kady into her arms and hugged her as best she could lying down. “Thank God.”

Kady hugged Margo back, and she could feel the smaller girl trembling in her embrace. “What happened?”

Margo sat up and wiped fresh tears out of her eyes. “The blade was poisoned,” she said. “You…you weren’t breathing when we got here. The healers removed the poison but they weren’t sure you would wake up.”

Kady sighed and rubbed her temple. “Poison,” she said. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I should have run,” Margo said. “I should have gone when you told me to. This wouldn’t have happened.”

“No,” Kady said, “I’m glad you didn’t. He would have traveled after you and I wouldn’t have been able to block you when the magic failed.”

“You died!” Margo’s lip quivered. “You died, Kady. I was terrified. I’d rather—”

“Hey…” Kady took Margo’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly. “It’s okay. This is what I signed on for when I agreed to be your guard.”

Margo sighed. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said. “Listen, I’m not good with the whole…you know…feelings thing, but…” She scoffed and shook her head. “God, this is so stupid.”

“I know,” Kady said. “I’m not good at it either. But, you know…” She took a deep breath. “If this is about last night—the things you said to me last night—I was awake. You don’t have to say it again.”

Margo gave a short laugh. “You think I didn’t know you were awake?”

Kady blinked. “What? But you said—”

“I hoped you were asleep, but I figured you probably weren’t,” Margo said. “Nobody sleeps very well after drinking fairy whiskey. It was just easier to say those things when I knew you wouldn’t say anything back.” She looked down and toyed with a loose thread in the comforter. “No, that’s not what I wanted to tell you. There’s something else I didn’t mention last night.”

“What is it?” Kady asked. She hated the ‘butterflies’ expression, but all she could think was that they were in her chest, and they desperately wanted out.

“I love you.”

Kady froze. She’d never expected those words to come out of Margo’s mouth, not directed toward her. Her first instinct was to deflect—after all, that was all she ever did whenever somebody got close—but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to push this away.

Instead, she sat up and cupped Margo’s cheek in her hand, wiped her tears with her thumb, and kissed her. Margo hesitated for a moment, and then Kady felt her kiss back, pulling her closer with one hand on her neck and one in her hair until their bodies pressed together so firmly that Kady could feel Margo’s heart beat against her chest. Margo bowed her head when they broke apart, and Kady pressed her lips to her forehead.

“So are you really gonna make me say it and not say it back?” Margo said.

Kady laughed and leaned back to look Margo in the eye. A month. She could never have said it to someone after a month before, but maybe she was getting better. Maybe it was something about Margo that made her feel sure enough of herself not to hide.

“I love you, too.”

#the magicians #the magicians fic #margo hanson #kady orloff diaz #battleking #my writing

[quitetommy]

Two Worlds

okay,, this is going to be a series and its gonna be hella cute bc dad!tom ??? um hello!! but this is also for @upsidedownparker's writing challenge so i hope everyone likes!!! And dont forget this WILL have multiple parts!!

And there are a few warnings in this; blood, death, drugs and mentions of drinking, curse words, and lowkey panic attacks

Two worlds 2

Tom hadn’t thought he was ever going to fall in love again, not after his wife and the mother of his baby girl passed. Love wasn’t something he had thought about, not when his princess was his first priority. He hadn’t even looked at a woman, like really looked, before his beautiful Milly. 

It was three years ago since he last saw her. It’s a tragic story, really; a freak accident. She was so young, too. The deceased mother only lived to be the ripe age of twenty-nine. Tom and Millicent had their beautiful baby young, they did everything young, apparently.

The day of her death wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but rather one of complete familiarity. The sad day started out like every other; wake up Fiona and get her breakfast, get dressed and ready for work, eat, say the goodbyes, and then off to work until later when the beautiful family is together again. 

The only difference with this specific day was the accident. It hadn’t even been more than an hour. Tom and Fiona had barely gotten off the highway, laughs escaping both brunettes. The only thing that could break their little moment was happened next. The phone had rang Milly’s special ringtone, causing Tom to answer with out any hesitation whatsoever. Tom had expected his beautiful wife’s voice to rip through the speakers and hit his ears but that’s not what he was met with. Instead, he got the voice of a very sad sounding man, he had asked if it was Tom and then he asked what he was doing. Tom had told him that he was driving, and the young man on the phone had asked him to pull over. 

Scared, Tom complied. And that’s when he was delivered the heartbreaking news of his wife’s death. The misfortune had sent the widower into a panic. His breath had left his body, his blood ran cold. He couldn’t understand how this happened, the only thing he could comprehend was the man on the phone telling him to get to the scene, after telling him he was sorry. 

Upon reaching the scene, Tom had thrown himself from the car. It was so overwhelming. It was straight out of a movie. The lights that were flashing white and red and blue were too bright and was starting to give the twenty-eight year old a migraine. As was the noise, God, it was so loud. Tom could barely hear himself think, let alone process what was happening. The young man had felt his whole world shift, stop. Everything was rushing around him, and he just needed a goddamned minute. That’s all he wanted; a single second to let it sink in.

It wasn’t until he saw his dead wife that he really felt it. Sure, it had felt like the whole entire world had just decided to continue on with out him, but now, he was feeling it; the loss, the pain. He had felt his feet shuffle lazily forward, his hands going to the curls that he shared with little Fiona. The car that Tom and Milly had picked out years prior was crushed, totaled. And there was so much blood, it was ridiculous. He hadn’t expected there to be so much blood. It was everywhere. His breath had hitched and he was having trouble regaining it back into his lungs. He had felt like he was underwater, breathless, muffled. Once he really got a look at her dead body, he felt nauseous. She was pretty banged up. It was hard to even tell that it was her. But he knew, he’d know those eyes anywhere. The image of her cold, lifeless eyes staring at him would be burned into his mind forever. The way she was staring at him was almost like she was blaming him, why’d you let this happen, Tom? This is all your fault, sweetheart.

Her skull was open and Tom could see directly into her head. He saw the brain matter,  it was turning a gross color Tom knew it shouldn’t be. He felt his breakfast leave his stomach and climb up into his throat, causing a lump to form. The broken boy gagged. Once, twice, three times, before it all came rushing out. The newly single father buckled over doing his best to rid the fowl contents from his body, keeping his eyes locked on the once lively girl. The sight would haunt his dreams until the end of time, he knew it.

How was he supposed to continue on without his beautiful Milly. She was his rock, she was the one that was able to pull him back to earth but keep him soaring in the stars. She was the one for him. She was what kept him alive, sane.

And then all of a sudden, it all clicked. The world shifted under his feet, once again. Tom stood up, wiping the vomit from his chin and lips. He turned on his heal, he had heard her. His little Fiona, the only thing that mattered now. She was his anchor now. He would be her everything now; her father, her mother, her friend. Everything she would ever need, he’d be it for her. His feet quickly carried him to the abandoned car. He let his body do all the work, his mind so tired. Flinging open the back door and removing the little girl from her strapped position, he held her to his chest. 

Tom shushed the screaming girl; it was like she knew what was going on around her. The baby girl was the spitting image of her father. She had it all, the curls, the big brown eyes, the beautiful smile. She was so smart, so aware. Tom was confident that she knew, and as he held her he promised to both her and to himself that he would protect her with his life for the rest of his days.

Now, Y/N’s story isn’t anywhere near traumatic. While her story still shaped her life into a single parent, no one died. Nobody was lost. Her story while one of tears and betrayal there was nothing of death. Rather a horrible ex-husband who once nice turned to drinking and drugs. Y/N, being the good mother she is, knew that she didn’t want her little boy to have to deal with such a thing. 

Y/N was willing to try. She wanted her husband, Dylan, to get help. She wanted him to go to rehab, and at first he refused. He had said, “If you want to be with me, you won’t try and change me.” He was a manipulative bitch, but Y/N stayed with him. He was the father of her son, Levi. She should at least try, right? Eventually Y/N told her bitch of a husband that if he didn’t get help that she was going to leave and that he’d never see her or Levi again. Ever. So he went and got help, and it worked. . . until it didn’t and he relapsed. 

Y/N didn’t say anything for the first few months. She just went about her life, making all the money, paying all the bills, doing everything to give little Levi a good life. It went on for months, Y/N doing everything she could to keep her son away from the bastard living with them and keeping the screwed family afloat. And it was going fine until one day. 

On this day, Y/N had been called into work, seeing as how she was a doctor, and had no choice other than to leave her son with the drunk druggie in their home. The whole way to the hospital, her time there, and the drive back, Y/N was doing nothing but praying Levi would be alright. She could feel it in her bones, something was wrong. 

Nothing could’ve prepared her for the horrid scene she walked into. Upon opening the door, she expected Levi to be in bed, sleeping the night away and for her piece of shit husband to be in front of the television or something. 

What she didn’t expect was for her entire world to shift. When she walked in, she wasn’t met with a quiet home, but rather her baby boy screaming his head off and her husband on the floor, a needle sticking out of his arm. Y/N had felt her heart stop, her adrenaline pumping. She didn’t even close the door as she ran to where her crying baby was, disregarding Dylan. He was in his room, laying on the floor, only in his diaper. When Y/N picked up her baby boy, he immediately calmed down. Holding him, the mother noticed how cold he felt and how disgusting he smelled. Y/N felt her anger boil up, filling up all her veins. She had never felt this type of anger before. The young mother quickly grabbed some baby clothes and a new diaper and changed him as fast as humanly possible. Once the little guy was satisfied, she put him in his carrier, wanting a fast escape. She knew exactly what she had to do. 

First, she needed to check if the bastard was still breathing. He was. Y/N didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad one. Once that was covered, she packed everything of her’s and Levi’s that she could think of. Clothes, toiletries, bottles, diapers, toys. Everything was cleared out in a matter of minutes. The young girl was able to get it all into her car and then she ran back in the house, grabbing her son, leaving with him. Once they both were safely in the car, she called an ambulance, telling what happened. Then, they left. 

Y/N drove them through three different towns before she stopped. The only reason she stopped was because she could barely keep her eyes open, so she pulled into a park. The young mother had watched her son sleep that night, just watching his chest rise and fall. Each little movement was like a miracle. She just felt so lucky to have such a blessing. And it was then, when she promised him that she’d do anything for him.

Flash forward two years and both Y/N and Tom were beyond in love. They both thought it could never happen, both thought that their kid was their only love. Fiona was now able to do all the things a normal human could. She could walk, she could talk (at the level of a three year old), she was even on the road to being potty trained. Levi was the same, only Y/N was having a bit of trouble getting him to pee in the potty. 

Y/N and Tom had been together now for over a year. Both feeling like they had won the lottery. They still didn’t live together, but Y/N and Levi stayed over practically every night. So much so, that little Levi even had his own bed. Granted the kids shared a room but it still was his own bed, something he hadn’t had since they moved two years ago. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t have enough money to buy him a bed, because she did. She just felt safer having him in the room with her. Ever since that night, Y/N hadn’t stopped blaming herself. She often expressed these concerns to Tom. It was always the same, she was just so afraid that she screwed him up, or that she will down the line. And Tom being the amazing guy he is, just always held her and contradicted her greatest fears. He battled them, always winning, even though it was like bringing a knife to a gun fight. He was always there for her, no matter what. And she was there for him, always. It was there thing.

And that’s what brought the question on. Both Levi and Fiona were fast asleep in their beds across the hall and Y/N and Tom were cuddled up in his room. It was extremely hot in the room, so sticky. The fans in the room were turned up to high, providing little to no comfort from the heat. Tom was on his back and had his left arm wrapped around his girl. Y/N was on her side, her head on his chest listening to his heart. It was soothing to her, it often calmed her down. Her arm was thrown over his chest and Tom had placed his hand on her arm, fingers rubbing subconsciously. Their legs were tangled together, bare and sweaty as they stayed that way, no sign of moving any time soon. 

Tom had cleared his throat, causing Y/N to jerk awake, as she was falling asleep, “Y/N/N? Can I ask you somethin’?” His voice was serious but also it was late so his voice was low, and tired and his accent was growing thick as it did every night. She lifted her head, placing her chin on his chest, smiling the smile he would never get tired of seeing. It was her tired smile. Her lips just barely would form the smile and her eyes would be closed slightly. It was Tom’s favorite thing she did. “Mmm. . . Of course, baby.”

Tom smiled at her, eyes crinkling. God, he loved her. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, but if that was the question, you could’ve saved your breath, because I already knew,” she chuckled, Tom joining, pink dusting across his cheeks and nose. “But I love you, too, Tom.”

“That wasn’t the question.” He sucked in a gulp of air, he knew her answer and he knew this was a stupid question. She had put her head back on his chest, her eyes slipping closed. She was awake and listening, “So, then ask me, silly.”

“Will you and Levi move in with Fiona and I.” Tom felt her breath skip, she sat up. She was wide awake now, confused. She didn’t understand where this came from. Things were going fine. She couldn’t, she wouldn’t do that to Levi again. He was all she had, she had to put him first. 

The scared girl brought her shaking hands close to her body. One went to her neck, clawing at it, like it was restricting her breathing. For all she knew, it was. Her other one went to her stomach, laying there. 

Her breath was gone and she struggled to get the question out, “W-What are you talking about?” Tom leaned up, his forearms holding his body weight. He could tell she was freaking out, so he said, “Hey. Hey, take it easy, yeah? Just take a breathe.”

She did, visibly calming down. “Okay, now, I want you to consider it okay? And it’s not like anything would change, you guys are here all the time. This way we won’t be paying two of everything.”

She nodded, slowly, thinking it over, “Tommy. . . I can’t put Levi through something like that again.” The curly haired boy frowned, sadly. “I’m not Dylan, okay? And you aren’t Milly. We are Y/N and Tom. This is new and we both know to put out kids first,” he paused, putting a hand on her knee, “And that’s why this will work. You’ve just gotta trust me, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay. I trust you.” The once scared girl nodded, smiling a little. Tom cheered, letting a huge smile fall on his lips, Y/N did the same, laughing loudly when Tom wrapped her in his arms, kissing all over her face. 

“How soon can you move in?” 

taglist; @darlintom @rainbow-marvel @yoinksholland @spider-bitten @spideres

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #dad!tom #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield angst #harrison osterfield fluff #harry holland #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst #sam holland #sam holland imagine #sam holland fluff #sam holland angst #5kwc

[waveridden]

FIC: i want so bad to feel steady

This is why he knew that Max didn’t die when he disappeared. (Neoscum/Alice Isn’t Dead AU, Tech/Dak, 1.7k)

(With all my love to Tam, who suggested an Alice Isn’t Dead AU a while ago.)

AUcember || read on ao3 || title lyric

#

“So,” Dak says, “where are you from?”

The guy in the passenger seat doesn’t really say anything, which is kind of par for the course. He’s barely said a word since Dak picked him up on the side of the road. But he does shift in his seat where he’s looking out the window, which Dak takes as a sign that he can keep going.

“Me, I’m from Chicago.” He drops his right hand and leans back to rest his elbow on the center console. “Big city! All the people, all the things happening. Thought I was gonna have a life there. Thought I was gonna do okay.”

Passenger Seat, who still hasn’t given Dak a name, curls in a little on himself. He seems like a nice guy, all considered. Sweet, round face. Nice beard. Old hoodie. Beat up sneakers, the kind that look like they’ve been worn pretty much every day since the guy bought him. He smells like… something weird, something specific, and his hair is covered in oil.

There are also tears streaked down his cheeks. Dak didn’t ask about that.

“I tried,” he continues, because hell, if he’s got someone there, he might as well talk. “I really did, you know? But you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him… settle down. That’s the thing about settling down, is it doesn’t just happen. It’s a choice you gotta make every day, to be settled in, and I got tired of making the choice. And so I went back to the road!” He lifts his hand, wiggles his fingers towards the magic emptiness of California. “Where I always belonged.”

The guy doesn’t respond, and Dak lets his hand drop to the wheel. “I got lucky, though. A lot of people never find anything or anyone they love the way I love this road. I’ve seen some great things out here. Some horrible things, but some great things.”

And then, a miracle: the guy says something. It’s muffled because his mouth is against his elbow which is against the window, but Dak can hear him answer.

“Gotta speak up, buddy,” Dak says cheerfully, adjusting the brim of his cap. “We’re all about open communication here! And by open I mean the kind of thing you can understand easily, all things considered.”

The guy props his chin on top of his elbow, still facing the window. “I said, mostly horrible things.”

Dak glances at him. He sees the bruises on the guy’s arms now, the way one of his hands is resting on his fanny pack like he’s protecting something. The reflection of his eyes in the mirror, not like he’s just staring out the window but like he’s watching.

“Oh,” Dak says quietly. “You mean the thistle men.”

  #

  People tend to assume that Dak is stupid.

Which, okay, it’s not like they’re wrong, by some ways of measuring smartness. Dak can’t do math much harder than figuring out how much gas he needs to get. He can read, but it’s not easy, because he gets letters and words backwards more than he gets them right.

But he can drive. He can drive faster than most truckers, and he’s done this job for a long, long time. He knows how to get shipments where they’re going.

He’s also good with people, which nobody ever seems to expect. They think he doesn’t pay attention, but really, he just knows what’s worth paying attention to. Someone’s favorite food or favorite color is nice to know, sure, but it’s nicer to know when a friendly hand on the shoulder is going to be that missing piece to helping them relax. It’s nicer to know that someone really needs one less thing to worry about, so that he can offer them leftover food or a ride home from work or things. He’s not good at social rules, but he’s good at reading people.

This is why he knew that Max didn’t die when he disappeared.

Granted, it’s not like Dak saw the kid that often. He got a job straight out of high school, saving up for his sister’s medical bills and for college and for whatever the hell else he wanted. Dak had some money set aside, too, because he always had a soft spot for those kids. Especially Max.

And then Max had vanished one day. At first people thought he ran away, but Dak knew he wouldn’t. That kid wouldn’t leave his sister for anything less than the most important thing in the world, anything less than her absolute safety. But he’d also known that Max hadn’t died.

His family ushered him to support group after support group, and after a while Dak stopped saying he knew Max was still alive. The kid was eighteen, he was young and it was tragic and whatever the hell else people wanted him to think, but sometimes people disappear and die. Sometimes people die.

The part that Dak won’t tell strangers in the passenger seat of his truck just yet is: settling down is a choice, but chasing after the ghost of your sister’s kid when you see his face on a national news segment is a choice, too. And hell, it’s hardly a choice to make.

  #

  The passenger calls himself Tech Wizard, which Dak’s not about to question because it’s hardly the weirdest name he’s ever heard. He’s also from Chicago, and he doesn’t want to talk about it. And the thistle men killed his parents when he was four years old.

(“I didn’t call them thistle men,” Tech says, after Dak explains what exactly a thistle man is. They’re men, sort of, but they’re… wrong. They eat people, for one thing. They walk kind of like marionettes with a stick up their ass and half the strings cut, for another. And they smell weird, which Dak hopes he’ll never remember again, because he never wants to be that fucking close to them.

“What did you call them?” Dak asks, curious despite himself.

Tech shrugged. “Nightmares, mostly.”)

He’s trying to get out of California. Which is a coincidence, because Dak is trying to get out of California. Specifically, he’s trying to drive his shipment to Kentucky, and if they take the right route that takes them through Colorado. Through where Tech says his parents died.

They stop for the night in northern Nevada, somewhere in the desert where nobody is going to bother them. Dak takes them to a truck stop and Tech doesn’t complain, just rubs a little more of the oil into his hair as he sets up shop in the back of Xanadu.

“What’s with the oil?” Dak asks by way of conversation, because he’s no expert but he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your hair from getting oily.

“Heather oil.” Tech holds up a little bottle of it. “Keeps the thistle men away. Don’t know why, but I always carry some on me. My nana taught me to.”

“Your nana?”

“And it works.”

Dak nods. “You got enough to share?” He holds out a hand, palm up.

Tech taps a couple of drops out of the bottle into Dak’s hand. “What I’m doing is overkill,” he says, a little sheepishly. “That’s enough that if you slap them it’ll sting.”

“If I slap someone, I want it to sting.” Dak winks, and Tech inexplicably blushes. “So now you’re, what, roaming the country looking for thistle men to sting with your hair?”

“Not really,” Tech says, although he doesn’t sound upset by how grossly Dak has misestimated what his life is all about. “I just got tired of being one place. But I couldn’t do this without trying to… to… protect myself.”

He’s lying, at least a little bit. But it doesn’t sound like he’s lying about any of the important parts, so Dak lets it go. “What are you going to do if you find them?”

Tech goes still. He’s sitting on Dak’s futon, wearing a pair of Dak’s sweatpants that are too short on him, wearing the same hoodie that he was wearing when Dak found him. He doesn’t look vulnerable but he looks like he belongs, and like he doesn’t know what to do when he feels like he belongs.

“I don’t know,” Tech says at last. “But I’m gonna make it fucking hurt.”

Dak barks out a laugh at that and sinks down onto the futon next to him. “You and me both, my dude,” he says, and Tech half-smiles at that. “Let me fucking tell you, I’m ready to give those thistle men some hell when we find ‘em.”

“You’re looking for them?”

“Not them.”

“Someone?”

“My sister’s kid,” Dak says, and hell, he wasn’t expecting to bring this up, but he’ll see it through. “Max.”

“He’s missing?”

“Disappeared about five years ago.”

“And you think you’re gonna find him?”

“I think-” Dak exhales, as measured as he can make it. “I gotta try, you know?”

“It’s a choice,” Tech says softly. When Dak turns, he’s looking at him like he understands. Like he, more than any other person in Dak’s whole life, understands why Dak uprooted his life and his relationship to try and find a ghost of Max in the wind. “And you made your choice.”

Tech doesn’t look too surprised when Dak reaches a hand out and hooks it behind his neck, but he still breathes in sharply before Dak’s lips meet his. He smells like heather, so much that it’s overwhelming. He also tastes not like heather but like essential oil, and it’s kind of gross, honestly. But his mouth is slick and warm against Dak’s, and his lips part into a sigh as Dak kisses him.

“That was a choice, too,” Dak says, more or less mumbling against Tech’s mouth. “Thought we could use it.”

“You thought right,” Tech says, and then he’s kissing Dak again. Because even if the rest of the world is open and terrifying and full of thistle men and things Dak can’t understand, they can still have this. They can have heather oil and each other, a shield against the danger.

#neoscum #neoscum fic #dak x tech #aucember18 #waveridden.fic #i've had a long day so if this doesn't make sense........ neither did half of last year's #also tam fully did recommend this au a while ago which is wild because they don't listen to alice isn't dead OR neoscum #i cannot find the texts in my phone for some reason??? but they suggested it and i sort of. took it and ran with it. #anyways i'm going to go find something chocolate to reward myself. have a good night y'all

[moonlights-inkwell]

There’s Something Tragic About You.

Summary: You find out that Jason’s dead, and slowly but surely learn to cope before a mugging brings a new vigilante to light in your eyes.

Jason Todd x reader

Word Count: 3,018

[part 1] [part 3]

So... I admit I got a little carried away with this. This chapter wound up longer and a hell of a lot angstier than I originally intended but oh well? 

Title is from Hozier’s From Eden. 

You find out that he's dead at the same time everyone else in your class does when the principal comes in to English class to share the awful news. You hate to admit it to yourself, but as soon as he walks in you know he's there to talk about Jason, but never in a thousand years had you thought that he was going to say that Jason was dead. According to him, Jason had died when a bomb had gone off in the hotel where he had been staying; some freak terror attack. Seemed to come out of nowhere, there was nothing that could have been done, he says in a voice authoritative enough to make you angry but filled with enough condolence for you to wasn't to sob. While everyone else whispers about terrorism and why Jason was all the way in Ethiopia; your head bows, hair falling around your face as you allow the tears to fall. He's gone. No matter how many whispers about him and how weird it was that he was dead would bring him back, no matter how many comments about terrorism, about bombs. He's dead. Jason, your Jason, brilliant Jason. Dead. The only thought that comes to you beyond your comprehension of his death is that whatever deity lives up above you must have a sick sense of humour, as your tear-filled eyes stare down at your copy of The Great Gatsby. Of course. Two dead Jays. The rest of the day is a blur of incomprehensible colours and sounds, while you're caught in a head space somewhere between dazed and haunted. The kids who had once bullied you instead give you a wide berth, even they seem to grasp that right now isn't the right time. No one speaks to you all day, and just the concept of being in the cafeteria makes you want to puke. Eating is a task that seems impossible and besides, there's no one there you want to sit with. Instead, you timidly walk to Jason's locker, unlock it, and stare blankly at the locker, making a mental note of the contents. Your eyes glide across an old red jacket that you hadn't seen in months. You recall making a comment about the jacket and how much you liked it, and in a moment of sudden desperation you grab it and pull it on, revelling in the feeling of being surrounded by something that had once been Jason's. [E/C] Eyes slide across a copy of pride and prejudice, and your fingers gently pick it up before closing the locker quickly. You know theft is wrong, and under normal circumstances you wouldn't have done such a thing, but you can't lose everything of him. You need something to remember him by, and it might be sick, but you need it to cope.

The funeral is unbearable, sitting beside your parents on a hard pew in an icy church in front of the coffin that held the boy who said he'd come home was hell, like a nightmare come true. Before Jason, the only person who you had ever known who had died was your grandmother, and the bracelet she had given you had been passed onto Jason, and like a curse it had taken Jason from you too. You had spent days trying to convince yourself that it was only a fear toxin induced hallucination, that Scarecrow had dropped some sort of bomb of gas over the city, leaving you to deal with the contents of your own mind, but no. Jason is dead. Gone forever, and you're stuck here without him. Your parents hadn't known Jason as anything more than 'that boy who comes over sometimes', but they sit silent besides you, and you're grateful for that. You're sure they don't know what to say beyond useless words of apology, but they're there and that means more than you could ever explain. Other than your family and a few of the teachers who had liked Jason, there is only one person there you even recognise, Bruce Wayne. You'd never said much more than a few words to Bruce while Jason was alive, only his butler who had taken a shine to you, but from the look of utter sadness that Mister Pennyworth had given you onto your way into the church you didn't doubt that Bruce and his butler had felt something like you did. It felt strange to think of Batman as a creature who could mourn, but orphaned Bruce Wayne's son being murdered? That was something you could never comprehend if you lived a hundred lifetimes. There's a boy who looks barely older than 18 or so, surrounded by other people that age, dressed in black with his eyes bloodshot. He looks almost strikingly like an older Jason and you almost call out before it occurs to you after a few seconds that he's Dick Grayson, Bruce's first ward. Jason had once confessed to feeling in the shadow of him, both as a Robin and as Bruce's son, and yet here he is crying for him. You don't approach either after the service or at the grave side. What could you possibly say to them that wouldn't sound trite or all too familiar? What do you say to people who already lost their families and just lost another member of the one they had tried to create for themselves? It feels strange as you stare down at his headstone, fifteen-year-old boys shouldn't be dead and buried. Jason shouldn't be.  

The sound of the alarm makes your eyes slip open, arm reaches out almost automatically to grab your phone and turn it off, bones cracking while you roll onto your back and check the screen for any new messages. Eyes squinting from the sudden bright light in the otherwise dimly lit room, you sigh softly and rake your fingers through your hair, a text from your mum hoping that you're safe and happy. You let out a quiet groan before shuffling to your feet, making a mental note for yourself to call her when you're more awake while padding into the kitchen as you crack your back, then turn on the radio as you begin to wake up at the sound of other voices. You curse at the sound of the news, almost sure that you had left it on the music station last night. The news, especially in Gotham was never good; there was a reason you don't read the Gazette (other than the fact that it's a rag). Fingers enclose around a box of cereal as the radio anchor talks about a crime scene in a warehouse near the docks, pouring the brightly coloured pebbles into a bowl while she talks about a duffel bag filled with decapitated heads. Somewhere in your sleep dazed mind reminds you that you should be disgusted by the waste of life, but the rest of you reminds you that this is Gotham. If you weren't willing to be surrounded with murder and crime you should have moved to Metropolis or Coast City for college, but you were still here, and you wonder if that says more about you than the city that you're willing to stay there. Your mum had wanted you to either go to a new city for college or live at home with her, but while you couldn't bring yourself to leave Gotham the prospect of living with your parents sounds hellish. You sit on the counter, eating tiredly as you half listen to an interview with Commissioner Gordon caught somewhere between too hungry to stop eating and too tired to get up and turn it off. Mumbling bitterly under your breath about how Gordon and his cops aren't going to do shit and how they never do shit, because they just leave all the hard work for Batman and each new Robin, you force yourself off the counter and off to get a shower and get dressed for work.   The walk to work is short, but Gotham is cold enough even in spring for you to feel uncomfortable during the walk. It's freezing, a hard blow of the wind making your coat billow around your thighs, and the only positive you can think of is that it isn't raining but as if someone above had been listening, a small droplet of water hits the tip of your nose, and then your forehead. Fuck. Of course. You let out a quiet groan and begin jogging, weaving in and out of other pedestrians and then cars as you bolt across the road. There's always a strange sort of discomfort that comes from living in Gotham, probably a result of it's wet and cold environment and the fact that it's close enough to an Asylum for its inmates to break out and live amongst you before attacking, but today's discomfort comes from something different than the usual. You turn your head to try to gage just what it is exactly as it hits you, it feels like being watched. Turning your head back to see what's in front of you, you try to ignore the feeling before turning on your heel to see if you can work out whether that feeling is right, but Gotham streets are so packed you could be stalked all the way from your apartment and have no clue. That thought makes your stomach drop quickly and because of that you can't help but feel relieved at the sight of the familiar red neon lettering on top of the diner.   Pauli's has hardly changed since you were in high school, still old looking and homely, with the red and white checked metal tables and peeling vinyl on the seats of the booths, spacious and claustrophobic in a way that makes you sad, but every single time you enter it's with a smile and today is no exception. The fifties aesthetic was one that you understood the appeal of without ever really being into under usual circumstances, but Pauli's was different for you, with the hand-drawn posters and bright colours. Hooking your jacket up on your usual peg by the door, you let yourself smile at one of the other waitresses (an older woman who had taken you happily and willingly under her wing after remembering you coming in near daily during your school days) and tie your apron around your waist. Working in Pauli's while you're in college had seemed almost obvious, like something destined to be: maybe it was a subconscious thing where you felt the need to come back to atone for the date that never happened, or just to return to something familiar in a city that looks more and more alien to you with every other day. The old diner meant more to you than you would have confessed; with its familiar slightly greasy smell and its regular customers and it helps on the long shifts after classes, when people who you see almost daily smile up at you while you fill up their coffee or take their orders, asking to make sure that you're okay. Gotham might have spent a lifetime making you harder than you would have been anywhere else; but the people, hardened in the same ways that you were, had done a pretty good job of reminding you that normal, everyday people were still good... and sometimes, after looking up at the flicking TV over the counter while it showed reports of costumed criminals, you need reminding. You often find your eyes glancing to your old booth, and then to the old black and white tiles around it, when shifts get slow in between intermittent glances to the clock on the wall surrounded by bright red neon letters, COFFEE. You pick up a pot of coffee, and turn around, noticing when a cop lifts a hand to indicate that he either needed a refill or wanted to order, you clench your jaw before sighing and forcing a smile and then walk over.   When you finally leave work the rain has stopped but the cold has increased fourfold as if to compensate for it, and your candy-coloured uniform barely does anything to keep you warm even with your jacket. It's almost unbearable, even with your hands shoved into your pockets, and that overwhelming feeling of someone watching you is back full throttle. The bright orange fluorescent lights overhead mean that at least you know that the way home isn't entirely dark, but it feels more like a clinical sort of light, the orange not the same warm colour as the street lights in other cities instead seeming cold. Gotham in daylight is like walking through any big city, but at night the city became something more... something darker. A labyrinth of winding streets, all smog filled and cold, with monsters hiding around every corner. All at once you're struck with an understanding why your mother always said that you shouldn't be out in the city after dark. You try to swallow that insecurity and slip down into an alley, your usual shortcut home, and finally start to relax at the familiarity. It's short-lived. Walking slowing, you hear more than one set of footsteps coming from behind you and you begin cursing under your breath, and before you can even begin to speed up you feel the sharp chill of a blade against your neck.   "Give us all you got." The man hisses into your ear, breath hot and predatory against your skin and you can't even begin to disguise the cringe that overcomes you. You know that you should be terrified but all that you can think is that his breath is gross. Two more men walk around the two of you, and leer down at you as your hand slides into the pocket of your coat, but then scowl as you reveal the contents to them; a coffee-shop loyalty card, a dollar fifty in change and four hair ties. You're a poor college student; you don't know why anyone would choose to mug you, there's nothing that you could possibly give to them that they would want. No watch, no jewellery, no phone, no wallet to hand over. You almost smile at the fact that you forgot your phone until it dawns on you that you have no way of calling for help and not getting your throat slashed for the attempt. Shit. Eyes flitting around the alley way, you try to make out if there is a way for you to escape, but to no avail as one of the two men surges closer to make sure that you weren't holding out on them. His hand scrabbles around in the empty pocket before grabbing at your thigh through the thin fabric, causing you to let out a loud yelp of anger while his face leans in closer to yours. Your mouth opens for you to tell him to get his hand off you but all that comes out is a loud scream as a bullet flies through the side of his head, sending a mess of blood and liquefied brain splattering onto the dirty ground. The man who had been holding onto you suddenly throws you to the ground beside the body, your hand barely missing the blood, as he and his one remaining accomplice run off.   The orange light from the streetlight makes the blood look almost black, like some sort of tar that was making its way closer and closer to you with every second. You shuffle backwards quickly, slicing your hand open in the scrabble to get away from the gore, only to slam against something warm and hard. Legs, you realise as you turn your head. Leaning over you is a man, tall and broad, clad in leather and a helmet that glints crimson even with the darkness and streetlights. The smell of gunpowder radiates from him; from the still smoking gun at his side.   "You always get the attention of dangerous pricks?" The voice that comes from the helmeted man is heavily modulated, sounding more like the sort of robots that you'd find in a Sci-fi B-movie crossed over with static and buzzing and it would be almost funny if it wasn't for the gun clenched in his hand and the fact he had just murdered someone in front of you. You assumed the modulation was there for a reason similar to the reason why Batman deepened his voice on patrol, being a Vigilante in Gotham was dangerous enough: but one who had no problem with killing? That meant that more than one type of person would be looking for him and a voice works as a means of finding a person. But hell, in Gotham it could just mean that the man in front of you actually was some sort of cyborg; like Arnie in Terminator, or like RoboCop. You stare up at him from your place on the floor, silent and scared witless, eyes flitting from the lifeless mask and the gun. "...Well?"   "...No?" You ask rather than state while getting to your feet, holding your injured hand awkwardly before shoving it into your pocket."...You just killed-"   "Put down." Was the mechanical response, as if talking about a rabid animal rather than a human being (albeit a scummy one), and that makes you step back quickly. "...You're welcome [Y/N]." Blinking rapidly, a droplet of rain hits your jaw, then another on your shoulder, then the top of your head, before the downpour begins once more. Within seconds, your hair is plastered to your forehead, and you let out a shaking sigh. You turn on heel from the helmeted man then run home as fast as your legs can carry you. It's only once you're home-with every door and window locked, sat on your couch in an old t-shirt and sweat pants while drying your hair with a towel, that you're suddenly struck with a question as you place a bandaid onto the palm of your hand.

How did he know your name?  

@hyp-oh-critical

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood #red hood x you #batfam x reader

[fangirlingwhileblacktarot]

Normal Song: A Dean and Cassie Story

Title: Normal Song Author: shoetingstar Fandom: SPN Wordcount: 1,863 Rating: MA rated talk, Y rating action-wise Characters: Dean Winchester, Cassie Robinson, some Sam and John mentions.

Genre: romantic angst with some sexy talk Disclaimer: Dirty talk, heartbreak, death, loss, grief Summary: This is a little story about my lovely couple. An “Imagine you…” type story. You are on Cassie’s shoes while dating Dean back in Athens, Ohio. After a LONG bout of writer's block, I found this a few notes I had started maybe a year ago, fleshed it out, cleaned it up and finished it. I have to share before I lose my nerve and I'm tired of waiting until I'm “perfect” - so please forgive any overlooked mistakes.

I appreciate you taken a few moments out of your day read Dean and Cassie’s story. Shall, we begin…?

******

So, let’s imagine you meet a boy.

First of all, he is hot as hell. Male model face with gorgeous green eyes, tall with the wide, strong shoulders you prefer; Bowlegged like your longing celebrity crush, Keanu Reeves….Just a heaping bowl of manly, goodness for your visual and sexual snacking purposes.

Your first impression: he’s a total player, slightly immature, and doesn’t take life serious. You are in college, you have goals and a career path you're determined to follow. You don’t seem to have much in common. But chemistry can not be manufactured, and it is strong between you. The mutual attraction is undeniable. 

You resign yourself to accepting that this will be only about the sex. You are not getting your heart deeply involved with anyone, but a girl does have other needs. And holy shit, it’s the best

sex

of

your

life. Dean is on some next level shit that you’ve never experienced before. He leads you to do things you never thought you would try, let alone enjoy. Yes, even THAT.

Unexpectedly, he sticks around after these sessions and talks. He.likes.to.cuddle for Heaven's sake. He continually surprises you and challenges some of your former decisions about the type of person you thought he was. During these frequent talks you realize there is more to this guy than you originally imagined. Underneath that confident bravado lurks

a

thoughtful,

dare you say,

sensitive,

person? He actually listens to and your crazy rants about school, feminism, the lack racial representation on the local news staff. The very topics you were lead by your Ex to believe were too intense for others. Dean actually tries to get to know you, asking you a lot of unexpected questions. He went with you when volunteered at the local homeless shelter. Helping people by action, not lip service seems to be another thing you have in common. You realize that are both closest to your Dads. Dad owns his own car dealership and is active in your hometown. Dean connects with his Dad through a mutual love of vintage cars, fishing trips (that's what you pretend he meant when he said “hunting” trips), and work. He leaves town. You knew it was coming but you take it harder than you care to admit. You will never see him again, probably,

maybe,

you’re sure

you won't. He is working in “the family business,” which you’re not sure about. Accident claim adjusters - they travel a lot. They investigate accidents for insurance companies. His mother died when he was a kid, and his dad was really messed up about it. He has a younger brother who “abandoned” (Dean's words) the family biz to go to college. He listens when you share your opinion that his brother may have just not done anything wrong by trying something different.  

Lucky for you, there were no commitments made on you part. You’re a realist, after all. He could easily have a girl-in-every-area-code type situation going on. Like the US Military you adopt the don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Again, no commitments were made. Of course, because life could never be too easy,

you can’t

stop

thinking

about

him. You find yourself listening to the classic rock stations, voluntarily…It’s getting as bad as it could get. You press on, throw yourself into school and work. You proudly tell yourself that you hadn’t thought of him, like, all day (!!), as you are thinking of him. You are completely NOT falling in love with this guy. Nope,. Not you. You are too smart to put your hopes into someone so…nomadic in his life, right? Then he calls. “I can't stop thinking about you,” he blurts out, in the middle of a catch-up session.   “Well, that’s nice, Dean. I appreciate that,” is what you imagined saying. However, you open you big, beautiful mouth and admit that you feel the same way about him. Aarrgghh! “Can I see you again?” “Well, of course.” It happens easier than you could have ever believed - you grow closer. He visits for a couple weeks,

leaves,

comes

back,

and leaves

again,

but you make this long- distance thing work. The relationship gets deeper, still. Soon you are telling him things you’ve never admitted out loud: your mom’s racist father who was forbidden from having any contact with you, the asshole who broke your heart and who was now engaged to your former best friend…It pours out as you lay tangled in Dean’s strong, muscled embrace. Of course this was usually after he fucked you **dizzy**, loved your body from head to toe like he was detailing his car. (With anyone else this would be unappealing. But Dean really took excellent, thorough care of his car.). The euphoric high that you created together massaged your emotional courage, causing the inner floodgates to open a little wider each time, and confessions poured out. At times, you could be just sitting in “Baby” (you have semi-mostly-accepted that you are actually dating a guy who treats his car like a woman), listening to the calming beat of the rain poured down outside, cocooned from the rest of the world and he would share little morsels of information about his past, and what he hoped for the future. That was the heart if it all: Hope. The light- bringing that happens in a real friendship.

Graduation was coming soon, and a few opportunities were on the table, back in your hometown and another market. You start to imagine and plan a future, and though you try and test, you can't see it all happening without Dean.

There

were

some

Red flags. His Dad is less than enthusiastic about the relationship and seems to worry that Dean will leave like his brother. And you wonder if he’s really faithful while he’s in the road for days or a couple weeks at a time. Nothing seems quite as stable or predictable as you would like. But God, you love him. Therefore, the eventual cracks appear, as you knew they would.

****** “So, your brother doesn’t know about me?”

He was telling you about Sam possibly asking his girlfriend to marry him. Their communication was sporadic, but his younger brother would inform him about major news, usually after the fact. This time he wanted Dean’s input beforehand and Dean was clear about his position. You were sitting in Baby, a couple hours after he got Sam’s voicemail.

“It can’t work.”

The boy could be stubborn, digging his heels in when his position was challenged.

“They seem to have similar goals. From what you’ve told me he feels supported by her. I mean marriage is not my thing, but Sam is obviously more traditional than we are.” Dean seemed surprised, definitely not happy about what you said “ So you - we- are non-traditional? You don’t want to get married?” Before you could answer or explore his question further, he moves on. “I mean…Forget it. Sam can’t do this. It’s not who we are.” You don’t waste your breath arguing when he’s in this mood. You are intrigued by this situation, however.

“So what does Sam think of you and our relationship” I ask. It was THAT pause that pierced your happy bubble. It was a small hesitation,  but it was there.

“He…He doesn’t take me serious when it comes to, uh, you know- dating.”

“So he thinks we're just casual?” “Do I have to remind you that the communication with my brother stinks?” “Ahhh….So you haven’t told him you have a girlfriend. In fact, maybe you haven’t even bothered to tell yourself.” It was awful timing. Your editor- took credit for your work, and then he had the nerve to imply that you didn't belong in that kind of work. And in spite of being careful with Dean, you had a false positive pregnancy that deepened your speculation about what a future with Dean Winchester would look like.

What kind if Dad would he be?

What kind of Partner/ Husband would he be?

Where would you even live? You were ready to go into your apartment, alone to think about next step. You were a damn fool. (He has to be an Oscar-worthy actor to fool you.) He had never been serious about you. (But why would travel so far and so much to see you? Never once did he complain about driving so far). You were grabbing your purse, hand reaching for the door handle when he said it. “Cassie, I love you.” “What?!” He reached over you and made sure the door was closed. He grabbed your hands, looked you deep in your eyes, and stated firmly, “I love you. And while I’m being completely honest…It scares the shit out of me. I don’t know what I’m doing.” “I need to trust you. I mean what are you doing when you're not with me? Do you know I’ve told my family about you?” “What did you tell them?” He smiled proudly. His enthusiasm nearly made you forget you were hurt and mad at him. “That you were handsome, funny, and that you take good care of me….Everything but the sexy parts.” “You didn’t tell Mom and Dad about that new position we tried last night? Or how big my C…?” “No! Especially, not about you being the biggest I've ever had.” “Well, I like hearing that but your parents knowing would make family dinners seriously awkward Some of the tension is released as you laugh it out.

“Here’s the truth. If I tell my little brother that I’m serious about this beautiful, smart, sexy girl, but NORMAL girl, things would never be the same because there will be tragic consequences.“

(Normal?) “Did you grow up on a religious cult?” “No…” “Is it because I’m black.” “Hell NO…” “Then what do mean by consequences?” He was silent, he looked inexplicably grief-stricken. Then something else struck me. In all this craziness I forgot to respond to the most important thing he said (besides the part about me being beautiful, sexy and smart…) “Dean, you wanna know when I knew I loved you and that I was all yours? Tracey’s birthday party. You dressed up in pants of a non-denim quality and wore a tie for my boss's little fancy dinner. That alone was enough to warm my little pessimist heart. Then we get there and you held your own with all their little shallow concerns. But what really got me was the kids.” “Haley and Henry? I mean how could you not feel sorry for a 10 year old with such a Grandpa- esque name?” “I hate to agree, but...Any how, none of them wanted to be bothered with kids and Tracey was stressed out and her husband was frankly useless, as usual. And you, Mr. Tough Guy charmed them, scooped them up took them to the play room and you were so good with them. I was able to imagine…”

Shit, you confessed more than you had intended. “Able to imagine…What?” He prompted. You’re supposed to be a fearless journalist and you can’t just say how you feel??

You take a deep breath and went for it. “I could see us with a house full of family and friends and you being this…Dad. A great one.” “you mean like a DILF?!”

“ Not quite where I was going with it, but total DILF for me. In other news, I could see you being a great Dad.”

“Don’t sound so surprised!” “I’m sorry! So what other surprises do you have for me?” You had no idea at that time about

the

bomb

of a

secret he would drop on you soon enough.. *** Now, here you are.

You weren’t sure he would have the same number, but it was working…ringing right  now. You could feel your blood pressure rise, your heart speed up its beats…You hang up. But there would be no calming down for long while.

Okay, fearless, relatively successful journalist - where were your Lady-balls when you needed them? And most of…Dad. You had to find out what really caused the accident that killed Daddy.

This time you stayed on the line. Dean answered on the 4th ring, sounding irritated, grumpy. “Dean?” Even though you knew it was him. Grief-brain was a bitch. “Yeah?” He was distracted. You felt dismissed, a totally irrational response… “Hi, this is…” “ Cassie?!” “Yes.” You feel relief mixed with nervousness, folded into and the constant mental and physical ache of unexpected LOSS…The tears refuse to leave you alone and to not be cried. “What’s wrong?” How did he know? You can hear the worry in his voice. “Dean, it’s my Dad.“ And here comes the burning eyes, the tears… "He was killed last night.” “God, Cassie...I'm so sorry. I know how close you were.” “Thank you. This will sound completely insane, and I feel silly for even asking you this, but…About your Family’s Business, did you tell me the truth? Is that a real thing?” “Yes, it is, “ he said with finality. You wiped the tears from your cheeks, hold back sniffles before you turn into a mess on the phone with your ex-boyfriend, who is probably still upset at you. "I have no right to ask you...”

“I'm there. Just tell me where.”

And he came.

THE END.

#dean and cassie #cassie robinson #dean x cassie #route 666 #spn 1x13 #dean winchester #Jensen Ackles #megalyn echikunwoke #writing-little-nothings #blackcaptainrogers #mango-blogs #jensenhandsome #cassi-dean #michonneswife #blipsterinsverige #awhiskeywithawinchester

[one-soul-two-brothers]

one-soul-two-brothers’ ultimate fic recs: wincest edition (part II)

how I chose these: Wincest fics are my (other) absolute faves to read First time fics are the best I like them to keep some semblance of canon Happy endings are a requirement A fic doesn’t have to have sex to be good (but it doesn’t hurt) They have all been thoroughly vetted (aka I’ve read them all at least twice, and will definitely be reading them all again) 

ENJOY!

best SELF HARM / ED

title: Brittle rating: explicit word count: 30k summary: Sam Winchester has an eating disorder. excerpt: They pass another mile marker and Sam takes another bite, chews it over contentedly and Dean’s smile dulls a fraction. He eases up off the gas and waits, and waits, and waits. Sam doesn’t take another bite until they come up on another mile marker. Dean speeds up. The next bite comes faster, at the next mile marker. When Dean laughs again it’s edging into mania. anna’s notes: Hands down one of my all-time favorites. It’s so well-written, it incorporates canon seamlessly, and it’s completely believable. Just...go read it. Now.

title: My Only Home rating: explicit word count: 13k summary: Dean's been gone a while, running wild with a twisted soul and black eyes. When Sam finally brings him back, Dean realizes his little brother hasn't been doing well in his absence, and he has more important things to worry about than what he did as a demon. excerpt: Dean’s human again and Sam should eat something but he can’t. Instead he takes another sip of the whiskey and swears he can feel it collecting hot in his otherwise empty belly. He’s never had a relapse like this before, even though pushing his plate away has remained a default response for him any time they fight. If he and Dean are in the thick of it, Sam can’t eat, but usually they make up pretty quick. All the years and miles between them and the desperation has never really subsided. They never did do so well with words, anyway. They’ve always said everything they needed to without them – with touches, kisses, teeth and hands. Sam needs that right now, he needs it the way he’s always needed it, but he won’t go to Dean. He needs his big brother, but he knows that the only thing that matters is that they’re together again at all; the rest has to be Dean’s choice.

best DRUNK DIAL

title: Moderation Itself rating: explicit word count: 4100 summary: The brothers get into a fight (over something stupid, of course) and Sam leaves. The absence stretches from weeks to months, and one night Dean can’t take it anymore and drunk-dials Sam, leaving a very non-brotherly message. excerpt: The next day, he hit Florida. He spent three days in Jacksonville, killing a water spirit like something out of Greek mythology, and then he was on the road again, passing through Georgia and Alabama and on up into Tennessee. Next thing he knew, it'd been a week since he'd gotten laid, and then two. It wasn't that he didn't have opportunities—hell, he was Dean Winchester, chicks practically fell onto his dick every time he walked into a bar—he just couldn't stop thinking about Sam, and how Sam apparently wanted to fuck Dean so bad that he'd up and left—Sam, his baby brother, who Dean had spent his whole fucking life trying to protect.

best FUCK OR DIE

title: Who Looks Inside, Awakes rating: explicit word count: 6600 summary: Dean finds himself the victim of spirit which drains life by inducing erotic nightmares. There's only one solution, but he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it at all...

best WEECEST

title: It Started Out With A Kiss rating: explicit word count: 17k summary: Sam has a date. That's not the problem. The problem is that Sam's asking Dean to teach him how to kiss. The problem is that this kiss changes everything. anna’s notes: I’m not a big fan of weecest in general (mainly because I like later-season fics) but this one is cute. And Sam is 17 here.

best MPREG

title: Riot Gear rating: mature word count: 21k summary: Shortly before they ganked Dick Roman Sam became pregnant. He either knew and didn't tell Dean because he didn't want to give Dean any more pressure or he had no idea at all. The stress and trauma of seeing Dean and Cas disappear along with Crowley taking off with Kevin sends Sam into a downward spiral. The added stress from hitting Riot causes Sam to have a miscarriage. Sam spends time recovering physically, but not emotionally, with Amelia who knows not to ask about the baby.When Dean gets back and reams Sam out for not looking for him, Sam can't bring himself to tell Dean what happened. He thinks Dean will blame him for losing their kid and that it'll be the final straw. anna’s notes: This is the first mpreg I’ve ever read mostly because I think it’s kinda weird. But I actually really liked this one! It’s totally heartbreaking (but it does eventually have a happy ending.)

best PLOT WHAT PLOT

title: You’re Possessing Me rating: explicit word count: 3200 summary: Dean goes looking for something to get himself off to--he's in no way expecting to stumble on porn vids of Sam. But now that he has, he's becoming obsessed.

title: untitled rating: explicit word count: 1000 summary: Dean buys a “create-a-cock” vibrator kit. excerpt: “You don’t think it’d be beneficial to you to watch me fuck myself using it? Or if we had to spend the night apart on a case or something, and you could watch how much I miss you on your laptop?” Dean stalks up to Sam, getting into his space and hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. “That doesn’t sound like anything you’d like at all?”

title: Nothing Is Enough For Me rating: explicit word count: 3300 summary: Sam uses the hotel shampoo and it causes an unexpected reaction.  excerpt: Without taking his eyes off the road, Dean reaches over and pushes Sam’s hair back behind his ear. His fingers slide through the silky strands and his fingertips graze Sam’s temple, tracing almost delicately over the curve of Sam’s ear before pulling away. It’s a simple, casually intimate gesture, something that would normally make Sam grin like a dork at the display of sweetness from his brother. Only today, whatever the shampoo was doing to Sam’s scalp made Dean’s touch race through him like an electric pulse. It sent goosebumps spreading down his arms and sides, even making his nipples hard. His eyes practically roll back in his head and he shudders in his Fed suit like Dean had just run his fingernails hard up Sam’s naked back.

best SEASON 12 CODAS  (episodes 1-11)

title: untitled (12x02) summary: Fix-it for the missing Brother Hug. anna’s notes: Ficlet. Shameless self-promo.

title: untitled (12x02) summary: The aftermath of Sam’s torture. anna’s notes: Ficlet.

title: First Crush (12x03) summary: Sam tells Mary about his first crush. anna’s notes: Ficlet. Probably my favorite ficlet ever.

title: untitled (12x07) summary: Sam’s stronger than Lucifer. anna’s notes: Ficlet.

title: Your Billie Will Explode if You Mix Them with Soda (12x09) rating: mature word count: 1140 summary: A short coda to "First Blood": what happened when they died. excerpt: “You will let us into our heaven while we’re dead.” “You must be joking.” “Non-negotiable.” “I hope you two decide it’s gonna be you, Dean.” “Yeah, I get that.”

title: Like A Virgin (12x09) excerpt: Circumstances being what they were, lube was not an option, so as soon as he bent Sam over and shoved Sam’s prison uniform down his body Dean spit into his palm, fingers circling Sam’s hole. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Dean murmured in awe. “Like a fucking virgin again.” anna’s notes: Ficlet. Disgustingly hot.

title: After Blood (12x09) rating: explicit word count: 1244 summary: Sam and Dean take comfort in each other. excerpt: But when Billie had asked the question, when Dean had looked at Sam for what could have been the last time? He didn’t want to leave him, but he knew there was no way he could lose him either.

title: Coda 12.11 excerpt: The brother that had come in on the tail end of all of that had startled the living fuck out of him. There’d been no way to dodge the messy truth that had hit him like a hammer to the chest a moment later, and it had left a heart-deep, bone-deep bruise that Dean was pretty sure was going to hurt until he died. Because he’d known even then, amid the fading violet glow from the grimoire, that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell Sam about this, couldn’t ask the kid for this... anna’s notes: Ficlet. A+.

title: Distraction (12x11) rating: teen+ word count: 2200 summary: Losing his memories means that Dean loses inhibitions Sam didn't even know he had. excerpt: Dean’s smirk is fully back in place. He’s still up against the wall where Sam had pushed him, still shirtless and of course, still stunning. He licks his lips oh so slowly, eyes sliding down Sam’s body to where Sam is still hard in his pants. Sam’s breath is still coming short, and he scrambles for a way to stop this while he still can. Dean is like a child, he thinks, frustrated because Dean has always been better with kids than he has. What would he do with a child who wanted to do something they shouldn’t?

title: Until You Come Back Home (12x11) rating: mature word count: 4800 excerpt: Cas wonders, as he often does, if he should tell Sam that he knows what it really is that he needs. He decides that tonight, after all these years, he finally will. They’re not getting any younger, after all, and he’s mainly stayed out of it because he didn’t truly believe that two people so singularly and utterly devoted could be that stubborn and obtuse. It’s maddening, and it almost seems purposeful, how they ignore each others’ signals, like they each have that secret locked down so tight (out of shame, probably, or guilt), each other’s light can’t get through. It’s tragic, almost, if he’s being completely honest. anna’s notes: Okay but this is just fan-fucking-tastic. Starts off from Castiel’s POV but changes to the brothers’. First time, super sweet, just...so good. Go read it.

For my other ultimate fic recs (j2 non-au, j2 au, and wincest), go here.

#mine #ultimate fic recs #wincest #fic rec

[staticdecay-blog]

Post 6 - The Raft

Imagine being shipwrecked in the middle of the ocean. Waves and tides and currents batter you at will while predators loom just beneath the surface, some even making their presence known visibly or maybe even with little nips or brushes on your skin. There is no swimming to shore, no screaming for help because even with a coastal wind your voice will dissipate like a fog long before it reaches the human ear.

You are fortunate however, you have a small little raft that at the very least, and actually at the most as well, just keeps you afloat. It gives you a chance, albeit a small one of survival. Maybe you will get lucky, the winds will blow and take you on a course that avoids the myriad of storms, and you get to shore simply dehydrated, famished, sunburned and waterlogged.

That is one outcome......

A sea of shit can be taken many ways. Some may know it as a quagmire. Some may know it as a rough patch. Some may know it as choppy waters.

I knew it as middle and high school. A time where it was a void and felt like that shipwrecked person staring at the horizon and seeing nothing but the horizon....no end. Only the ocean, only the sea that was going to kill me.

The beatings came and went daily, and my cries for help reached seemingly nowhere. It felt like nowhere. There were my parents...there was one aging police officer...there was one boy in school...and there was Mr. Brian Pacos.

But even islands disappear in the horizon as you drift on the threshold of death, the irony rich of how you may die of dehydration in what is ultimately an enormous puddle of water.

Mr. Pacos was my homeroom monitor in the 7th grade. This was the only time I saw him.

He was a good man and I know this because without ever talking to me much he realized how much I was suffering. He was able to see what was happening: that I had no friends only punches, pushes, trips, and kicks. He was able to hear what was happening: no laughter by me but at me; the only words spoken to me being or involving the words "fucking faggot."

And he tried to shield me from it with what he could. He understood that maybe something, even in its limited capacity, could have the ability to provide SOMETHING....some stability, some reprieve, some kind of hope for somebody.

He would let me stay in homeroom after we were supposed to leave and go to first period. He would give me a hall pass to leave after all the kids were clear from the hall, and if he couldn't let me stay a few more minutes and I had to face the battery that came from the students in the halls, Mr. Pacos would walk me personally to where I had to go so for at least 1-3 minutes I would not take direct hits. I would pay hell for it later but at least right then and there, I was spared a bit.

Mr. Pacos was a likeable person and I am sure that translated outside of his profession. He was not out of shape, not ugly, and he could be charismatic.

The year was coming to a close and I was "looking forward" to summer where I would have no friends but at least not take daily beatings. I would hope and dream that in 2 months people would forget about it, forget about me and that I could walk in to those hallways and be cool, not assaulted....that Kayla would notice me finally...or that there would just be silence...no "faggot."

I didn't even want a high five or friends, I would settle for simply NOT being punched again.

It was Monday...the final week of school in 1994. I was 13 at this time.

I had been dropped off by my dad to walk in to hell. I came and went through the door and quickly made my way to homeroom. 2 days of the weekend did not blunt my skills at dodging the "faggot" comments, or my ability to take some physical abuse such as meeting a wall and getting to really understand the particles of those sickly red/orange bricks that made them.

Wipe the brick dust off the mouth...at least there is no tears...get to the safety net of Mr. Pacos.

Walk in to the room and immediately look toward where I would see Mr. Pacos but something was wrong. He was not there. He was not standing at the corner of his desk like he normally was. He had never been late the entire year. Instead somebody else was sitting in his chair, somebody I had never before seen.

The predators were beginning to realize they were in the clear and starting to circle, like sharks sensing blood. A type of dread loomed over and sink heavily in to me.

Thankfully the home room bell rung and all the students fell in to their seats and routines, which started with morning announcements.

That dread feeling? That turned to a heavy somberness at the sound of the first words spoken over the crackling speaker. Those speakers made everything sound like a tragedy already but I could feel that this was different. This was not faulty or cheap technology distorting, this was real.

Something about tragedy. Something about losing somebody in our community.

"We mourn the tragic loss of Mr. Brian Pacos..."

The raft I was floating on in the sea of shit...it had splintered apart, it had been destroyed and taken from me and now all I had was the view of that unreachable horizon...

Blackness. This is the only way I can describe my transition in that moment. I detached, I shut down. I do not remember anything from the rest of that day or the week. I am certain it went no different except I did not have the few minutes of reprieve in the morning. Five more days and I got two months of "calm."

Mr. Pacos died in a car accident. He was 29 years old when he died and would be buried at the cemetery up the road from our house. I have driven pass it numerous times and every single time I say my thank you to him. I have never brought myself to visit the grave...maybe someday...

Until that all I can do is honor him with the words of praise and thanks. He died, as a couple others later in my life, unexpected and without knowing what they did for me... I am thankful he died at the end of the year so at least I got a cumulative few hours of peace that year, I got to float with some hope in the sea of shit. in a world where there are no, or very, very few heroes, Brian Pacos was one of them.

Even heroes die and fall to the currents of chaos.

#fredonia #Fredonia NY #small town #origins #abandoned #death #sudden death #1990s #teen #teenager #growing up #loss #borderline personality disorder #bpd #Borderline #ptsd #Autobiography #true stories #tragedy #hopeless #despair #bullying #middle school #post traumatic stress disorder

[renegadesepiida]

How many cultures around the world celebrate with sheep decoration and alcohol? No, seriously, I’m asking. It would seem that the festival of Sant Joan de Ciutadella on the island of Menorca is not a singular event in the world, especially because it came from Pagan festivals and then incorporated Medieval traditions and Christianity, but they sure do make it all their own. For all the background information you can visit menorca-live.com/festes-de-sant-joan-de-ciutadella-menorca/.

For a bit over a week (9 days) the entire city of Ciutadella celebrates. The origin story, as it was told to me was, this annual festival is to celebrate the medieval knights who went to fight a war with the rest of Spain and the sheep was brought to all the knights’ homes as payment and to symbolize the call to arms. As the knights rode out to battle the celebration ensued. Fast-forwarding to the present, over the next several days the roads are covered in sawdust and broken nuts and knights on horseback riding through the streets. But I’m getting ahead of myself. It all starts with a sheep.

Night 1:

Beginning on Saturday, June 20 (at least in 2015) crowds all gather at a particular person’s home (I think it changes each year) where a male sheep is being kept in a pen about five feet above the ground. It is the tradition for people to visit the sheep and yell at it to keep it awake all night. As there are hundreds of people passing by, taking pictures, and talking to each other it is easy to believe that sound of the street quickly becomes a dull roar. Visitors come and go in shifts; some families come together before dinner, after dinner (which is when we were there), or later and later throughout the night. One can also imagine that as the night goes on a number of drunken people rises rapidly and some craziness can occur, but we left before that.

Day 2 – July 21:

After being kept up all night the sheep is pampered with a wash, a brush and is adorned with ribbons. This day is known as Diumenge des Be or the Sunday of the Lamb. All day long the Homo des Be (man of the sheep) carries the relaxed sheep on his shoulders circling around the city to the different knight’s homes while barefoot and wearing sheepskin. This man is accompanied by a small traveling band made up of a flutist and a drummer whom all met in the early morning at the balcony of the Caiser Senyor where the drummer is given the red and white cross flag of Sant Joan.

While walking through the city, mobs follow the procession through both wide-open squares and thin alleyways. This is not only to listen to the music that is continuously played nor to get a decent photograph or video, which is really difficult because of the sheer number of people (trust me, I was there) but also because petting the sheep’s wool is supposedly good luck. Maybe it’s just luck enough to make it out of the crowd alive, but in whatever way good luck presents itself I’m just happy that I can say I got a pet in while a was taking a video… which is probably why the video itself sucks.

And, of course, no festival would be complete without the traditional booze. In Menorca’s case, the special drink is called pomada, a mix of the island’s gin and lemonade. Even though we, along with the locals, drank this every night it will make a nasty and more entertaining appearance on a later date.

Day 3 – July 22:

As everyone knows vacations are hard, just kidding. With the week off from the field school, the instructors took us to various areas of the island that relate to what each course was more or less focused on. My group, of five, was the scuba divers and so we went straight to the ocean side. Up to the stone ruins of an ancient town high up on a cliff side. From this point, the citizens living there could have seen everything around, the perfect defensible position. We then drove a bit further northwest to caves that were used as homes and temples in an earlier era. What was incredible about that site was that while the outside rock was slightly carved to decorate ‘doorways’, the enormous inside was only a bit natural. While the caves themselves had mostly formed naturally the people who lived there carved most of the separate rooms with all of the special benches, fire pits, and columns.

After we all met together again at the oldest structure on the island (most likely a tomb) we visited a site with Roman and older pottery that was scattered across the ground like bubble gum wrappers or cigarettes in New York City. While a lot of history is known about that specific site it’s the time of Roman occupation not much is known from before, theories fly around that there could be buildings and temples built by the Minoans. Large stones stacked like capital T’s are thought, by some, to be reminiscent of the Minoan bullheads, though there is no official proof of this (for more info: https://www.historicmysteries.com/taulas-menorca/).

Continuing on with the day we all take the time to stop running around and eat a simple lunch at a beach, specifically Cala Pilar. I brought my white bikini, which may have not been the best idea looking back, and I was fairly uncovered. The water was warm and relaxed, not much in the way of waves and so clear we could easily see the bottom. Sand led, on the right side, to large basalt and sandstone rocks growing into a cliff face. In this area, there is another tradition that was shared with us, mud therapy. The red mud at the base of the cliff has been used for a type of lotion for centuries. All the coolest people of our group, at least the ones who didn’t care about getting dirty, climbed over the rocks and reached the mud. We covered our legs, stomachs, backs, and arms. I even painted my own to be more like war paint, putting a few lines on my face as well. Over a short period of time I could feel the mud drying and tighten on top of my skin and in several more minutes, I jumped back into the water to wash it off.

My skin was so soft and smooth, the best ‘lotion’ I had ever used. I know they pack and sell it to different countries, but I would rather spend the time and money to just go back and get it for free. Would be worth it for another vacation. The slight downside is that the mud stained my bikini, but there is an upside to that too; whenever I see that suit with its red stains I always remember that wonderful experience.

Day 4 – July 23:

According to my photo history, since looking back the days all seem to bleed together, the next day was the ‘horse party’, the main event. The main square by the waterfront was where the knights displayed their prowess and control over the huge Menorcan horses they rode. With a growing crowd comes an aspect of danger. While the knights ride directly through the crowds they also rear the horses. Just like the sheep a few days previous it is supposedly good luck to touch horses as they are being ridden, even more so if you touch them while rearing. With a crowd of hundreds attempting to touch the same horse, at the same time, accidents happen. Just one year before we arrived a man died after being kicked in the head as the horse came back down. Whether he was just being an idiot, running up to a rearing horse and not getting out of the way in time or if he got pushed up to the rearing horse and couldn’t move out of the way because of the crowd, it is still a tragic occurrence. And one that I was not anxious to duplicate.

All day and into the night the horses ran through the crowds all around the city. I was able to touch and even pet a few of them (while stationary) over that time and even for the next few days, but I was always weary about where the crowds were because I had a couple close calls early in the day. With the enormous crowds pushing you closer and closer to the action, there are times when you just might have to duck.

Day 5 – July 24:

Over the off week, nights were spent out at bars or clubs almost every night. There was one wide alleyway where the water for the harbor ended and the occasional bridges became shorter and shorter until streets on either side came together in a triangle shape; that was where the clubs were. Where most of the young people spent their time. But this particular night didn’t take place at a club at night, oh no, this started in the early evening and ran throughout the entire city.

Almost nearing the end of the week there were more and more traditions that continued to reveal themselves. One of them was the throwing of hollowed out hazelnuts at each other. During the late morning, before the mandated siesta (break time after lunch), we were out walking as a group and saw heaps of people, both young and old, throwing nuts at each other and laughing. We all decided to join in, throwing at the other people we knew in the group rather than total strangers. It was really fun! Since the nuts weren’t very heavy it didn’t hurt when you got hit either. While we were having our ‘battle’ a film crew made their way over and started to record us. I don’t know whatever became of that taping, but it makes me laugh when I think of a bunch of archaeology students from abroad being featured on Spanish TV at a Spanish festival.

Continuing on with the day another student, Teddy, and I took a break from everyone and went to write in our journals at a café across town. (And yes, I’m being completely literal and serious right now.) For at least an hour we sat outside and didn’t speak while writing. As the sun began to set more and more people were coming outside for another night of celebration. This time I really wanted in on the fun, so after my journal entry was completed I slipped the book and pen back into my purse and together with my friend set off to find the best pomada.

It seemed like every single café and bar had its own pomada recipe, but they all tasted pretty much the same, but also different. At each place, one cup would cost 2€ so Teddy and I took even turns paying for the drinks. Of course, every place gave us cups that we could take away and toss in the garbage, making it easier and faster to walk to each different shop. Personally, my favorite variation was the slushy version that we found at one café, but sadly, we would never find it again.

Eventually, we found ourselves nearby the club alleyway and the harbor. There Teddy saw a sailboat that he thought was too beautiful to ignore, I don’t know much if anything about boats so I wouldn’t be a great judge. The owner was a young man hanging out with his friends who had all come from mainland Spain to celebrate for a few days. While talking, mostly to Teddy, I was kind of listening, in and out, and refocused when they invited us aboard. I was ‘on-board’ (see what I did there??) for this plan cause, hey, free booze and hot guys. This backfired on me a bit because what I didn’t know at the time is that they asked Teddy if he was my boyfriend. Since he wasn’t he told them no (duh), and that, to them meant that it was open season on me, for anything and everything. We chatted a little (and when I say little I mean 5-10 minutes) bit before they started pouring pomada down my throat. Sure I was saying yes at the time and actively participating, but at that point, I was already inebriated, already at the point when I could have easily been taken advantage of. Luckily, Teddy noticed this and asked me if I wanted to go, in one of those silent, mind reading ways, and we politely departed from the men on the boat.

In the square, on the way back to the apartment, we ran into another group from the field school. They brought their own bottle of pomada and were heading to the small inlet beach a couple blocks from our building to drink and chill out. I was definitely drunk at this point, but wanting do as much fun stuff as possible joined them. Here is where my memory gets a bit hazy. I don’t particularly remember walking to the beach, but I remember walking onto the rocks and sitting down and drinking more. We all joked around, though I don’t remember the jokes that were made. And the last thing that I actually remember from that night was joining people in their leap into the water. The funny thing was that I wasn’t wearing my swimming suit, so in true, drunk, 23-year-old fashion, I went skinny-dipping instead.

It wasn’t until the next morning that I was told what happened after that and got those slight recollections in third-person. When you don’t know if it actually happened or if it was just a vivid dream. When I woke up I felt sick, but not an actual hangover, and when I moved the sheets to get out of bed there was a medium sized stain of blood by my feet and my left foot felt stiff and sore. Apparently while climbing out of the water I gashed my foot on a rock, this is when I am glad that I was so drunk that I didn’t feel it, or just didn’t remember the pain. Also because I was so drunk I couldn’t put all my clothes back on so another student lent me a towel to tie around my waist and I put back on my cardigan. Because I just got a gash on the ball of my foot and couldn’t walk Teddy gave me a piggyback ride back to the apartment building where I proceeded to puke my guts out after slipping on my sweats, without underwear, and a spaghetti strap shirt.

Naturally, while listening to this, I was mortified and profusely apologized to everyone who had to see me like that. It was the worst night in terms of my drinking and I scaled WAY BACK afterward, even to the point of not drinking at all. So over the next few days, I went out with people, but I didn’t really party too much and I was even a bit apprehensive about going back to the dock area because I was nervous that those guys would still be there. They weren’t, and the rest of the weekend was enjoyable and ended without any more incidents. After hearing more stories from our group I do wish I had stayed out later on other night, more soberly though, so I could’ve watched the sunrise. Sadly, after that week no one wanted to stay out all night again.

When Monday came everyone had to get back to his or her normal lives and all the evidence of the weeklong party was gone. The roads were suddenly spotless overnight. With not even a speck of shattered nut or speck of sawdust was left on any road. I couldn’t help but marvel at all the work that goes into this festival every year, and how they’ve already been doing it for centuries. The end of it reminds me of a reset button, or a ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ type of a thing. It doesn’t matter what you do, as long as you learn from it, because everything can be washed clean.

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The Knights of the Pomada and Sheep How many cultures around the world celebrate with sheep decoration and alcohol? No, seriously, I’m asking. It would seem that the festival of Sant Joan de Ciutadella on the island of Menorca is not a singular event in the world, especially because it came from Pagan festivals and then incorporated Medieval traditions and Christianity, but they sure do make it all their own.

#archaeology #beachlife #blogging #cocktails #cultural #drinking #explore #festival #friends #history #horses #medieval #medievalfestival #memories #menorca #mudbath #party #sheep #spain #throwbackthursdays #travel #travelblog #tryingeverything

[imamessofawriter]

To Burn

Summary: He stood there under the rain wondering how did things turn out like this and reminiscing the past. Why was that name engraved on some stone? Why did he have to die? Why isn't he feeling anything? What kind of brother is he? A/U One-Shot.

A/N: Before I get started with the story let me just say that this is my first time attempting a tragedy or something like that. I was studying for my exam and this idea popped into my head so me being me, threw my book and began typing the first 500 - 600 words or something before taking a break and studying for real. Once my exams finished I began working on this, so it took me around 3 days to complete and it is based on 'The Vampire Diaries' because I just happened to be watching a new episode earlier and was like 'hey what if I substituted Ace and Luffy in' so here it is, probably the most crappy tragedy story with an awful twist to it.

Warnings: Long Fic with almost 10,000 words

FF.net | AO3

To Burn

Dark clouds decorated the skies as he stood there in the graveyard. He never thought this day would come. He always thought he would be happy to see that name carved into a stone in the cemetery, but now as he stood there all what was left was emptiness. No one was there to grieve for the dead; it was just him and the skies.

Ironic isn't it, how the kid had tons of friends but none showed up at the funeral nor afterwards. He hoped that maybe someone will show up the day after but he was mistaken, no one came. So did the day after and the day after. Waiting and waiting but no one came, no one called, and no one cared. Why should they when they were all already dead, he killed them of course.

Why did he kill them? He should've left a few alive to cry and grieve, he wanted to see them cry because he never cried, and nothing escaped his eyes. He wasn't heartless, he was just tempestuous and irascible, and it wasn't his fault. He himself didn't even have friends, why? He killed them as well. He just killed anyone who stands in his way or threatens him.

He didn't show mercy, a simple snap of the neck would do it. Yet as he thought about it, he only got angry. Nothing was left for him.

It was her fault; it was her damn fault that things turned out like this for him. How could one girl change their lives like that so easily, and creep back in them when she disappeared. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he tried to forgive, it's just that he wasn't like his brother and will never be. He looked over the name and recalled what had happened, his last words, it was the longest day in his never-ending life.

Forgive me Ace, I never really wanted any of this but I don't regret it. I just want you to forgive me for all I have done to you and please live forever, don't die, not yet.

It was just those words, those few words that hurt the most. He swore that he would hate his brother for eternity and never forgive him. He also swore that he would hate that woman, the one who changed them, and the one who made them vampires. She made him suffer for 500 years, now almost 600.

Technically speaking all she ever did was put her blood in their system so that if something ever happened to them they would turn. And they died. Their grandfather shot them but it was Luffy who completed the transition. He fed on human blood and gave Ace some when he clearly stated that he just wanted to die.

Now here he was, standing in front of his younger brother's grave. Monkey D. Luffy was engraved in the stone. To his right was, Monkey D. Dragon, Luffy's father. Going on further the trail was, Monkey D. Rose, Portgas D. Rogue, Gol D. Roger, and so on with their cousins and relatives. The last of the family line was Monkey D. Garp, their grandfather, and the man who shot his own grandchildren to cover up their affair with that vampire. Funny how his blood is what tempted Luffy into completing the transition, and he died by his grandson who he had shot.

Back then a woman in her mid twenties, fair skin. Blue eyes that differed in shades, at times they were baby blue, others they were midnight blue. Straight long black hair that reached to past her waist with a few locks framing her face. She was slender and tall, taller than Ace himself, an hourglass figure with big breasts and a wide waist. Her beauty was unlike any other; no one can rival her. However it was probably a lie, she was a fake; Boa Hancock was a fake.

A vampire who had spent her entire life running from her enemies, playing with people and ruined the two brother's lives, that is what she is. They hadn't suspected her to be the one responsible for the increase number in deaths, all drained of blood. No they didn't, they all fell for her beauty. Vampires never walked – can't – in the sunlight so they never thought of a daylight talisman – a necklace – that would allow her to accomplish such feat.

Ace was madly in love with her that he held an affair with her. So was Luffy, he loved her as well but it wasn't the same love Ace felt. No, his was also fake; his feeling weren't real. It was Hancock playing with his mind, compelling the younger that he loves her, but he never knew that until that day. That one day, where Luffy was dumb enough to ask his grandfather to stop the vampire hunt and that not all of them are bad, it was when everything started.

Every day, and every night Hancock would ask them to drink some of their blood and give them hers just incase something bad happens, she wanted to be sure that they live no matter what. And on one of the nights their grandfather spiked their alcohol with Vervain; a herb that made vampires weak. When Hancock attempted to drink Luffy's blood she ended up weakened and her cover was blown.

Ace was pissed, he knew Hancock was a vampire and kept his mouth shut but he couldn't say the same about his brother. Now the woman he loves was being taken away in a carriage so that she would be burnt with the other vampires in the basement of a church. He spent an entire hour yelling and attacking his brother in a blind rage.

And for the first time Luffy came up with an idea, they were to save Hancock and set her free before she reaches the church. They managed to stop the carriage and free her, but she was too weak to move. Garp saw them; he knew that it is more than just an affair. He grew mad, pulled his shotgun and shot both his grandsons. They both fell limp on the floor with red liquid pouring from their chests.

Hancock muttered their names, mainly Luffy's; she loved him more than Ace. Garp was probably the cruelest in the family, he walked past his sons dead and limp bodies, shot Hancock for safety measures and locked the carriage before sending it away. He left, went back home without his grandsons. He refused to call them his grandsons, he refused to acknowledge them, and he was ashamed of such traitors as he put it.

When morning came the brothers woke up by a river, their white shirts stained forever with their own blood. Everything that Hancock seemed to compel them came back, Luffy looked at the river with a clear resolve, he had woke up before Ace by an hour or so. A witch had helped them, to be precise Hancock's personal witch, Ran. She explained to them what Hancock had done and why does their memory seemed so…wrong.

She had also informed them that they are half way through transition that's why the feel sensitive to the sun, she told them that all they need to do is drink blood in the next 24 hours to complete the transition or they should die. Both brothers agreed that they would die, Ace oddly enough before Hancock had arrived had been thinking of committing suicide but to his luck he is half dead now.

Night fell and almost a few hours were left between them and death, it seemed that Luffy was going to die first because he died first of the two by an hour. He decided to give his family a last goodbye before he leaves for good, he wanted to see Garp one last time and tell him that he will be waiting for the old man in the afterlife and if he had any message for the other family members.

He snuck out and arrived at the mansion, they were one of the founders of Fuisha, it was a small town that barely has a population other than the founding families and the servants. As he arrived his ears perked up, a specialty that all vampires seem to have. Garp was talking to Kuzan – the man who logs the town's history – he was telling him to write something down.

The half human, half vampire got curious and took a few steps closer. He stood just below the window sill so he can hear everything that they were talking about, "what about your grandsons, what should I write?" Kuzan asked the founder as he stood in front of a big desk with an overly large book and a feather in hand.

"Say that they died tragically but it wasn't in vein as they helped capture the mastermind" the older man replied and sat back down, "write: Portgas D. Ace aged 22 and Monkey D. Luffy aged 19 both who where found on the road drained of blood, but in between the commotion they had managed to kill the mastermind behind all of the deaths, their death was a necessary sacrifice"

Luffy clenched his fists in anger as he heard his grandfather, at least it sounded that they were heroes, right? He always wanted to be one, a hero that saved Fuisha from a vampire terrorization.

He waited until the man was no longer there and went inside, he knocked on the door of his grandfather's office. "Come in" Garp replied, little did he know was that he was going to see his almost dead grandson. As the door creaked open his eyes went wide, those black eyes, those ebony locks, and that scar underneath that eye. It was Luffy, but how? He killed him didn't he, he was sure that he killed his own grandson but how.

He then knew what happened, Luffy had become a vampire or at least he thought so. Panic grew inside the elderly man and he reached for his wooden cane recalling that to kill a vampire you need to stake it to the heart with a sharp wooden item. He brought his knee up and broke the cane in half, pointing it at his grandson.

"Listen grandfather I am just here to bid you farewell this is goodbye, I'm not–" the younger began but his grandfather refused to listen, he wanted to get rid of this monster even if it is his own grandson. No, Luffy and Ace were no longer his grandsons; they were monsters. Vampires.

"I wont listen to you lad" he argued and sent the makeshift of a stake at his descendant's heart. Luffy dodged to the side, he shouldn't have as he somehow managed to hurt the old man. The sharp object was now staked into the elderly's kidney, hot blood pouring down staining his white attire.

"Grandfather are you alright" the young adult asked as he approached his grandfather and helped him upright. That was a wrong move as the stake went inside and more blood came out, it contacted his hands, his transiting hands. The smell of fresh blood and the wet moist on his hand was tempting, he looked at his small palm in fascination wondering how does it taste.

He left his grandfather and stood frozen at his hand. The red paint said it clearly, drink me I'm tasty. His heart raced faster in his almost dead state, should he just taste it or clean his hand before this mess starts to get into his head. Only a few more hours and he would be dead, Ran had told him that he died at around 2 am and his brother was around 3 am.

But he lost. He lost to his temptations as he brought his hand to his lip and licked the iron filled compound before he continued licking his entire hand. The transition was now completed; Luffy had become a vampire officially. He wanted more, he couldn't describe how it tasted, true it had a slight metallic tang but otherwise it was completely toxic and addicting, he had to have more.

Turning to his grandfather, the veins around his eyes grew darker and bigger showing the blue lines clearly. His gums bled as it was his first time extracting his fangs, those sharp and long canine teethes that were meant to rip; a snarl escaped his lips as he jumped at his grandfather. His fangs dug into the other mans neck, where the main artery, that one place where blood is pushed at a high speed.

The taste was overwhelming as he found himself drinking and making the place a bloody mess. He never felt this good in his entire life, the guilt of draining his own grandfather was what snapped him into reality. He pushed the now almost dead man away and backed towards the wall with shaky hands, there was far too much blood for his liking, on the floor, the desk, the walls, his hands, his mouth. Red had obscured his vision.

"Grandfather, I'm so sorry" he apologized in a panic and ran. He was surprisingly fast, faster than what he already was. He ran until he reached further into the forest and collapsed onto the hard ground, looking at his shaky hands the guilt was too much, he never felt this much guilty.

A laugh made him tear away, he saw a fine young woman and had caught her heartbeat, and he couldn't stop himself, he was just happy when he bathed in blood. Using his new skills and senses he went to spook the woman. He would crack twigs as to confuse her, then there was an opening straight to the vein and he took it with force. Cupping her mouth as to not let her screams be heard.

He stopped midway and looked at her scared figure, "shhh…it's going to be all right, my brother would love to meet you madam" he soothed as he stroked her cheek, ignoring the blood running down his mouth or his predatory looks. Instantly the woman nodded and stopped shaking, so this is compulsion, he thought as he led her to their hideout.

Ace sat there by a rock, looking down at the swimming fish. He wanted to harvest his final moments in peace and quietness; he always wanted a simple death. Something caught his nose; it smelled like…blood.

He sat up and saw Luffy approaching him; the younger was covered in blood and had brought a woman with him. He looked happy and confused like a lost child at the same time. "Brother, look at what I've got" he stated as he pushed the woman forward, she seemed fine with it.

"Luffy you imbecilic arse" Ace cursed for the first time in years "what happened to the plan, you shouldn't have completed the transition"

"But brother look, you must try it" the younger pouted as he motioned for the woman to walk forward. She complied and took long strides towards Ace, she stood there in front of him, he could hear her heart race as she tilted her head and pushed the hair out showing the bloody chunk of skin that had been torn off by the younger.

"No Luffy, I don't want to become a vampire" he argued and backed away, but he had to admit this smell was something he can't put to words. Furious at his older brother's lack of enthusiasm Luffy appeared next to Ace and pulled out his canine teethes once again, this time it didn't hurt, he felt almost accustomed to them. "Don't regret it" he stated and began sucking the blood.

The young adult took note of the smell, as he saw his brother feed on the poor woman. He took notice of the small blood trail falling and found the muscles around his eye harden, veins grew darker and bigger as he took a step forward and let the blood reach his tongue before impaling his new fangs into the woman and sucking her dry.

It was a day he would never forget, a day where his brother busted the woman he loved, a day where his own grandfather shot him, and now none other than his own brother turned him into a vampire. He also discovered about his brother's stunt and how he killed their grandfather, or how that now the mass of dead people pilled up on the river. It was also a day he swore to make his brother's life the most miserable ever.

Once the transition was complete Ran handed them each their daylight talismans, they were rings that as long as they wore them they can walk in the sunlight without burning. Come morning he felt the guilt of killing all those people, his emotions were all over the place with the church holding a dozen of vampires – including Hancock – was burning.

After that day Ace was never Ace, he became the selfish arrogant bastard with such loathing and hate for his brother and those around him. And Luffy was never to be Luffy again, he was never that sweet little innocent child that loved his brother, he had become a demon.

Ace snapped back into reality as the rain soaked him. Watching as water began plashing and how the stone with the names engraved on them were slightly shimmering. He hated his brother and swore to make his life a living hell but why did it seem that this isn't what he wanted.

So this is it brother, this is where we part

Hello Ace haven't seen you around in a decade what brings you to Roma

You definitely are the 19th century material

Hmm the 20's look suited you better than this

Who are you kidding Ace, we are accustomed to this newer generation thing

What do you mean that this is so old school, c'mon?

Are you dead or what, how can you not know Michael Jackson or Elvis Presley

I just want to tell you that I'm sorry for making you turn and if you are going to accept my apology can we start over

Days turned into weeks, into months, into years, into decades and into centuries. Every time the brothers would meet, Luffy would apologize, though not for the first century. His brother had become labeled as the ripper from 1598 to 1675, why? He used to rip his victims apart and made quite the reputation in the supernatural world, he was probably the cruelest vampire alive since he had shut his humanity off.

The 600-year-old vampire sighed as he recalled the day his brother shut his humanity off, he also did the same later on but it was for a different reason. But unlike Luffy he knew when to stop, he was in control; he was more civilized. But he had to admit, whether his humanity was on or off Ace was a merciless monster that never felt guilty after a decade since becoming a vampire.

They both killed, people died in their arms but it was part of their daily routine, at first guilt flooded them but as time passed it disappeared. They each went their separate paths and made their own reputation, but in the end Ace would always show up to screw Luffy's life up, even exposed him once. And what did his brother do, he killed everyone in that town.

Then somewhere around 1675 a woman showed up before Luffy claiming that she is going to help him. She was tall, about 188 cm and had a curvy figure. She had black hair that reached slightly past her shoulders, fair skin, and dark blue eye with lighter linings on the outside, which seemed unnatural. She introduced herself as Nico Robin, a fellow vampire.

She was walking under the moonlight on a full moon; as usual she was hunting but watching out for werewolves, she didn't want to cross paths with them. She then saw a body, it looked bloody and frozen; it didn't look right to her. She approached it and touched the head just for it to roll off, this was a normal occurrence for her, she wouldn't scream like a normal person would; no instead she looked at the other body and noticed it to be in the same state.

The limbs torn off and placed back together, this was art but not the type of art she would admire. She heard from a fellow vampire that there is a guy roaming the area; he was labeled the ripper by their kind because of his bad habit of ripping the bodies of. She could only guess that whoever this ripper is, he must've shut his humanity off.

A childish scream reached her ears; she instantly knew that this guy was attacking an innocent child. She wouldn't mind him feeding on thugs and such but a kid isn't in her agenda. She ran towards the voice, on her way she took note of the few bodies here and there but most importantly the trail of blood that was connecting them.

The kid screamed once more before the forest quieted down completely, she had finally reached her destination but it was too late. There standing on a cliff was a boy who appeared to be in his late teens, around 17 or maybe less but his muscle build told her that he isn't what he looks. She saw him move his lips to say something; she narrowed her eyes and pushed her hair behind her ears, and concentrated.

"Sorry child but you were delicious, can you tell my parents that I say hello," he stated before setting the kid down and moving his hand to his neck. He concentrated enough strength to severe it from the rest of the limp body, and he smiled. Anger bubbled in Robin, is that boy who looked so sweet and innocent, he couldn't be the ripper, there had to be a mistake, but then again she noticed his eyes cold and empty; he had turned his emotions off.

What could've caused him to do such thing, was it the guilt or the heightened emotions that came with being a vampire, she didn't know. With a resolve to help the boy she jumped to the cliff and alerted the boy with her presence, she looked at him with sorry eyes. "What do you think, isn't it beautiful, the human body?" he asked as he showed Robin the head.

She was taken back with his action, did he just do that. Isn't there a shred of humanity in him, his voice was so cold and hateful. She wondered what drove him to be this mad, what made that innocent face so…monstrous.

"I agree but the way you treat such delicate creatures, it's almost…pitiful" she stated coolly, a smile on her face that just showed how calm and collected she was. Yet he was about to learn the truth of her, she seemed unmoved by his intimidating voice, "I always thought the ripper would be a muscular, scary looking man not a…sweet little boy" she commented, "I'm Nico Robin"

"Luffy and I'm not a little boy, I was turned when I was 19 but I always looked so young that it was annoying being mistaken for a child but hopefully it would help in the future and I don't need to work as hard as people my age do" he replied as he began ripping the boy's right arm, "such fragile beings, cant believe I was once of them"

"I don't want to pry but why did you turn your humanity off" she asked as she took a seat on one of the rocks, she crossed a leg atop of the other but Luffy couldn't see it due to the dress she was wearing, he took note of her beautiful figure and how her hair was left to fall on her shoulders, the way she dressed told him she must be from the upper class.

"Why did a rich woman like you become a vampire" he asked as he saw right through her and proceeded to rip and play with the dead human boy, "and I believe that you have your own personal witch" he added as he groaned and stood up from the rock, tossing the dead body into the river, "what a lousy body, his screams where fine, don't you think"

"You pretend to be rich and you blend in well, no one would suspect that you are a 300 year old vampire, I envy you" she explained as she plucked a flower from between the cracks, "I was turned when I was 28 but that's alright now, I am thankful for it when it comes to events and such"

"I couldn't take it" he explained, the action caught Robin by surprise. She didn't expect him to confess, well not yet, she thought that she would have to break him but here he was telling her the reason why he shut his humanity off, "I killed my own grandfather, broke my promise and forced my brother to be a vampire, how much self loathing do you want me to be, specially with my brother he meant everything to me but now he hates me, so why should I worry about myself with him no longer loving me, so I shut my humanity off and I never knew I could have this much freedom without such emotions and feelings"

"But it's wrong, you kill many people and leave an obvious trail why do you do it" she asked as she shifted the position of her legs, her smile remained.

"I cant stop myself, the more I drink the more blood I want but without emotions I don't care, I don't feel guilty and I just have as much fun playing with my victims" he explained with a smile and jumped from the cliff, landing on the other side of the forest. He turned around to look at her but was surprised to find her missing, "you're welcome," he muttered sarcastically as he turned around only to come face to face with her.

"The hell" he yelped as he jerked back, "don't do that again"

"I'll help you" she offered, "I could help you control your hunger and keep a low profile, this will insure that you survive longer and you could have your humanity on but you wont have to worry with the guilt or that people hate you, as a matter of fact you could have more fun"

"Now why should I trust you, a stranger that I had just met" Luffy asked with a cautious tone, he didn't like the sound of it. He didn't want his humanity on, he liked the way he is, he enjoyed bathing in blood but now that woman is trying to take it all away.

"Because I am older, I have my own personal witch and as a fellow vampire I cannot allow you to expose our race, also I could teach you how to control your thirst" she explained in serious and deadly tone that Luffy didn't know she had in her. He had thought of her to be one of those weak and girly vampires but in that one instant he saw something akin to cruelty in her eyes.

"So what, I can walk in the morning no one would ever suspect that, and I just happen to look like an innocent sweet boy" he argued back with a smirk, he was starting to find that woman annoying and he is about it with his fuse.

"Looks sure can be deceiving Luffy" she stated in a warning tone, "you can never judge a book by it's cover, it's always the quiet and kind ones that are the most viscous" she explained as she walked towards him, holding the lower part of her dress so that it wont touch the ground, she smiled at him but it wasn't her usual smile, something was off about it.

"Look I do not need your help," he growled as he grew his canine teethes; his veins bulged out as he turned predatory. He rushed towards Robin in an attempt to attack her but she was older, faster and had stronger instincts. She easily moved around and used about half of her strength to snap his neck instantly; she frowned as his body fell limp to the floor.

She scanned the area quickly before carrying him and making a dash towards her safety cottage, it took her about 15 minutes because she was in a far place but to her luck the woods were empty and no one noticed her at all. She flung the door and threw him on the floor before dashing to another room and bringing some ropes.

A girl with short blond hair approached her, she looked at the boy warily, "Miss Robin who is that boy" she asked as she noticed the older vampire soaking the ropes in Vervain, she narrowed her eyes at her master's actions.

"Margaret can you please go get a chair, and I need a binding spell so that he wont be able to leave this house" she instructed her personal witch, Margaret. The servant only nodded and bowed to her master's wishes before chanting some words. Once the spell was complete she looked at her master with a smile and nodded saying that the job was done before she left to go get a chair.

Soon the chair was set up with Luffy sitting on it; his wrists and ankles were tied with Vervain soaked ropes. He couldn't escape if he wanted to, the ropes would burn his skin to the core and even if he did, there was a binding spell on the cottage so he wont be able to leave the ground, it is as if there is an invisible barrier.

"Miss Robin, may I ask who is that boy and what is going on" the witch asked as she helped her master change into a cleaner set of clothes, it was rare for the vampire to visit her hiding home unless something went wrong while she was out hunting.

"That boy is the ripper that everyone is talking about, it's sad how ruthless and cruel he is, so I decided to help him but first I would need him to switch his humanity on," she explained as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. A simple loose dress dark purple that showed that she was rich and at the same time it was comfortable for her to move with her vampire abilities.

"But that would take a very long time my lady" Margaret argued but nonetheless agreed to her master's choice. Suddenly Robin fixed her gaze to the room where she had the younger tied to a chair, she smiled and made her way towards the door, "Margaret if you may I would request a stake soaked in Vervain and if possible I might use your powers"

"As you wish" the witch bowed and went to fetch a stake and soak it in Vervain. Meanwhile Robin made her way towards Luffy with a soft smile, behind it her dark nature. She creaked the door open to find the boy in pain as he tried to get himself free from the ropes, "I wouldn't try to struggle if I were you," she stated as she sat on one of the cushioned chairs in the room.

"You can never judge a book by it's cover, huh?" he asked with a pissed and annoyed look, he felt his hand burn again and came to notice what is going on, "how come you have Vervain?"

"How about I tell you a little secret," she asked as she looked up to see Margaret approaching them with a stake in hand, "thank you Margaret". With the stake in her possession, Robin circled around Luffy for a while, "you see…" she began as she pressed the tip of the stake against his face making him hiss in pain as the Vervain burned his skin, "I developed immunity to Vervain and I am giving you an offer"

"What offer, turn my humanity on, no way" he argued back with anger seeping into his voice like venom. He bit his lip as his thigh soared with pain and felt like it would burn. He was just starting to see that woman's true nature; she was cruel but kind at the same time that it was enough to confuse him. She had just stabbed the Vervain soaked stake into his thigh with a smile of all things.

"Don't you feel anything?" she asked as she stabbed him once again. He let out a yell of pain as the Vervain sunk into him, "what about now" she asked again as she pushed the stake even deeper. A dry chuckle, not the humorous kind but rather the sarcastic type escaped his lips, he was smirking evilly, "if you are trying to kill me then stake me to the heart" he taunted.

"Margaret" was all what Robin needed to say for the witch to step forward. The balancer of nature, she extended her arms outwards as a screeching sound echoed in Luffy's brain, he closed his eye as he began to scream in pain, it felt as if his mind was going to explode. He wanted it to stop but no he wouldn't give in that would only mean that he lost; he wasn't weak.

Robin had shut herself from society for a span of 6 days, during them she managed to get information about Luffy's past and some things he knew that were of use to her, and most of all she managed to break him with constant torture and torment. She never guessed that the first emotion he would feel was being hurt, it was how she figured it our, she taunted him about his brother and made him cry because he loved his brother and now he has no one.

So it was the loneliness that came with being a vampire that drove his emotions away. She never expected him to say that the physical torture she put him through was better than her talking about his brother. Whoever this Ace guy was she was going to thank him someday, he was her hope for helping the young vampire.

She sat there rubbing her hand over the boy's shoulder comforting him as he cried, she never seen someone cry this much even in her entire life so far she never cried this much, even as a kid or when the vampire hunters killed her mother. He kept mumbling 'I'm sorry' over and over again, if she could take the pain away she would. She felt bad for torturing him like so, the number of wounds, the blood he lost, the amount of Vervain in his system; she wanted to take all that away.

Ever since that day they had become best friend, she helped him get back up to his feet, and started giving him small doses of Vervain so he can develop immunity. 50 years was all it took her for him to learn to control his thirst, act normal and lessen the guilt when he kills someone. In those 50 years he learned that Robin has a cruel side to her, Margaret was ready to pass on her daughter to Robin once she was ready.

For the first time in his vampire life did he make friends like them, he loved them as if they were his family and cared deeply for them. He even helped raise Margaret's daughter and let her train her witchcraft on him; Robin was right, with enough training you can have more fun with your emotions on.

And it took three words; one minute, one conversation to break it all, destroy everything he had worked for all those years. He was travelling with his new family to Ohara when he ran into Ace on the way; his brother gave Robin a glare and told her to get out of the way when she prevented him from reaching Luffy. He approached his brother and whispered in his ears, 'I hate you' then left.

Those three words left Luffy broken; he hated himself and attempted to shut his humanity off again if it wasn't for Robin. She saved him at the last minute and promised that the next time he would hear those words he wouldn't be broken. The next time he would be stronger and would stand up to his brother, the next he would be a complete different person.

He felt the sky cry on him as he stood there motionless reminiscing the past. He remembered that day, oh how he almost screwed his brother's life back then, if it weren't for Robin he would've succeeded. He haven't seen his brother since then, half a century later they met again but this time it was Luffy and Robin parting away, he attempted to screw his brother's life again but she had stopped him in time.

He watched as his brother went to leave for a while, he was going in complete control and with humanity on, he was going for who knows how long but he promised to visit Robin once in a while. He watched from the sidelines as his brother got on that boat and sailed to who knows where and for how long, if only he could do something about it to screw him up again.

He expected the blue-eyed vampire to leave but she stayed there and dragged him with her to some cottage in the forest, there Margaret's daughter set a binding spell on the house and then his worst nightmares came true. He stood longer than his brother before he broke, but it took him less time to be in control and forget the guilt and ignore the heightened emotions, as if it did him any use.

He had anger issues, how many times did he attempt to kill Robin only to miserably fail, how many times has he lashed out only to have his neck snapped, his emotions are what drove him, nothing else mattered. He was a machine of some sort, he couldn't function properly, it took Robin 15 years to tame him and set him free. He had never been that grateful in his life.

Whenever he or his brother lost it, she would show up. They called it being Robin-ed, as in Robin controlling them and changing their lives. They learned the hard way that she was just as equally as cruel as any vampire, it was a result of how she grew up and lived, having her mother staked right in front of her eyes when she was just 17, she was lucky to have been human back then.

Deep down Ace knew that she loved and cared for them, she trusted him equally as she trusted Luffy but what did he do to her. How could he forget, he was mad, trying to screw hundreds of lives, released dozen's of vampires in Fuisha and when he was about to get exposed, he staked her to cover himself up. She died in his hands, but what did he do, that's right he smiled at his achievement but Luffy was saddened and they had another argument after finally agreeing to live peacefully.

His brother went hunting, well on another ripper rampage the entire summer before Ace had dragged him back. As much as he hated his brother the police were on to them, the 21st century wasn't as easy as they thought it would be, they had to be careful. Along the years they had met many other vampires and ran into a few werewolves, one named Zoro who always argued with another new vampire named Sanji.

They were both student in Fuisha high, Zoro was from the founding family and so was Sanji, he was turned to vampires when Boa Hancock decided to show up again. She had faked her death, there was an underground tomb where all the other vampires from the 1500's were sealed on the night of the fire, but Hancock wasn't one of them; she had escaped that night.

Ace was still in love with her, while Luffy he had moved – slightly – and began dating her doppelgänger. They both loved her doppelgänger but only she loved Luffy, call it fate or a curse because Hancock had real feelings for him. When they reached the underground tomb there was no Hancock, she had escaped long ago and was alive the entire time.

Ace cursed and threw a blood bag on the wall before storming off. The tomb vampires drank from the blood and began moving to the village, they were surprised to see that it had become a town and they were lost with a 500-year gap.

When offing the vampires Zoro and Sanji along with a girl named Nami they had a car crash, due to Zoro's werewolf senses he heard the sound frequency and lost control. Hancock moved in and turned Sanji while Nami survived but Zoro had a headache and lost his father.

Ace was in the middle of the room where they burned the vampires as he failed to leave the range of the sound and got captured. To his luck Nami hurried to his aid after leaving Sanji with Zoro and the medics, she was a witch and managed to help him saying that she needs help. It turned out later that Sanji had become a vampire and Nami had no choice but to give him a day light ring while Ace trained him to live like one.

He was rocketed on an easy start but as days passed by, under one huge Hancock commotion he was killed by Ace himself as he deemed him dead weight. Zoro on the other hand was also killed by Ace when he attempted to attack Luffy in his werewolf form after he had killed a guy named Usopp. They lost their vampire and werewolf friend on that day, it was also the day Luffy had killed Hancock.

He never knew that his brother has such anger levels, they both teamed up, with Luffy managing to lure her in while Ace shot her with a crossbow several times. They were both lucky to have developed immunity to Vervain and could eat it as if it was food, Hancock on the other hand was not immune to Vervain and so she lost her ability to move when Luffy soaked her with Vervain water before crushing her jaw.

His eyes were predatory, filled with bloodlust and anger. It was then Robin's teachings worked well on him, she said that when finding enemies release all of your pent up anger on him, which he did. He was one of her best students, he smiled darkly and broke her other jaw, "not so pretty now Hancock" he spat as he pushed her on the floor and stomped on her ribs crushing them and leading her to scream in pain.

"Luffy please, all of it was real, my love for you was real" she begged as he crushed her right arm. Ace stood by incase anything went wrong, his crossbow ready in hand; he had to admit it was nice watching Hancock suffer like they did and his brother was doing a great job at it.

"Sorry but I don't think so" he spat before forcing his hand into her chest and ripping her heart out. Blood filled the floor and they were both satisfied, they had completed their revenge even if it meant working together, they tossed her heart between each other while laughing loudly while a rotten grey body laid next to them. Everything went according as planned, true they just killed Sanji and Zoro three hours ago but all was fine, they still had Nami an important key to their plan.

But sometimes things don't go as planned, Hancock's doppelgänger just barged into the room and gasped as she cupped her mouth. "Hancock" she screamed and shot the two vampires a glare, as she scanned her she noticed that she was badly bruised and that her heart is missing, she was grey and seemed to be rotting. She tried to shake the body but to no avail.

"Why did you do it" she asked the two brothers as tears ran down her eyes, "even if she is a vampire, even if she screwed your life over, turned Sanji and did many other things she still is my great grandmother, I hate you"

"Take it as a thank you gift, she was about to kill you" Luffy gritted as he stood up and left the scene, it was just recently that they broke up and now this. He hurried out of the building as quick as possible, he was stupid to think that they were two different people, in the end they are the same deep down to the core. They were the same arrogant self-centered bitch; nothing could change that fact even if they were hundreds of years apart.

Ace just shrugged and stood up leaving the mess like that, or that's what the doppelgänger thought. She knew how cruel he was, back when she was dating his brother, he attempted to break them up and even tried to get her into his bed but that was all useless. The freckled vampire walked normal down the party, it's funny how they killed her in their old mansion and to be precise Luffy's room.

It was the perfect place, a party was held down and they had Nami bind the house so that Hancock wouldn't escape, they saw through the plan and were sure there were no mistakes or such things. They made sure that when they will kill her, all of the guests would gather and have a toast, nothing was to go wrong or that's what they thought. The doppelgänger wasn't supposed to show up, she was to be with everybody else but yet she was there.

He couldn't rest knowing that she knows about what happened, even Sabo wont be able to cover them up. That poor vampire hunter / school teacher, he was excellent with the job, also on top of that he was able to enter the council board and was their Vervain supplier aside of the D's. He was also Ace's drinking buddy, they would get drunk every Friday and end up who knows where, but they had fun.

How could Ace forget him, he was the closest person he ever got close to other than Robin. Sabo was like a brother to him, they hunted vampires together, and as long as his identity was safe then everything was all right. He was the only person Ace liked and it was the same for the blonde, he never approached anyone or befriended anyone due to fear of his cover being blown but all of that was gone when the vampire came into his life.

He turned to look at the grave a few columns away, on it was engraved the name Blue Sabo, and the following graves; Roronoa Zoro, Black Sanji, Mikan Nami, Nico Robin, Phoenix Marco and so on.

His partners in crime, Sabo and Marco, he was the reason they died. Sabo chose to die than turn to a vampire, they spent the last minutes drinking but Ace, he didn't cry or shed a tear for his lost friend. How could he be so reckless when entering a powerful vampire lair and allow his friend to die. Why was he so driven by his emotions, that's why he preferred living without humanity but Robin was right, there is no fun without the humanity switch on.

Marco was a weird one; he was a vampire and a hunter at the same time. Why would a vampire hunt its fellow specimen? It didn't make any sense, nothing about the blonde pineapple head made sense. It was the hair that caught Ace's attention but what amused him was his cold and lazy demeanor, that guy loathed the self-centered and bitchy vampires; they were his targets.

In order to keep their witch alive he tricked the blonde and stabbed his heart with a Vervain soaked stake, it was his method of defeating older vampires. The blonde showed signs of immunity to Vervain but Ace was taking it a lot longer than he did. As his second best friend fell to the floor limp and turned grey and began decaying, he did the only decent thing to cover up the story.

He washed the entire house with gasoline before setting the house in fire and escaping, it wasn't hard for him. It was as if their friend ship didn't exist, he felt nothing as he murdered his own friend and burned the house like nothing. He continued life like he normally did and brushed everything off; he was the same cold hearted calm vampire with unbelievable hate to his brother.

Ace had attempted to go out with someone but Luffy had beat him to it, the hate only grew to the extent he went to kill that girl. He wanted nothing more than drive that stake through his brother's heart but as he noticed his brother suffers more in living than dying so what better than make him live in hell for all eternity.

As days passed by he ended up killing their group of friends, until it was only Luffy and Nami by his side. They made a deal, as long as she is safe she would help them with whatever they want, it was as if she made herself their personal witch.

It all went great until he had come to a choice, on that clear night they were ambushed. It was either him or the witch. Being the selfish bastard he was he killed her for his own good, and ever since that day things went down hill, more enemies showed up and more problems rose.

Back to back Ace and Luffy managed through them all, their bond was never stronger, though deep down they both knew they cant trust each other, they knew that there is still some hate between them but that didn't stop the younger. He trusted his brother with his life, even going as far as to play a decoy knowing that Ace would have no choice but to save him.

10 years have passed since they left Fuisha after Nami's death, they returned to finish some business with the sheriff. They were to give him a supply of Vervain and eliminate a few threats. Everyone around them seemed to be dirty; they felt like freelance assassins roaming around searching for someone to kill.

They went on like they normally did, killed almost all of their targets, they were mostly vampire hunters trying to show the town's true colors. Ace understood the sheriff, he didn't want to expose vampires to the world or the fact that there are vampire's working within the council.

He thought that everything was done, that he killed them all. It was a careless move from his side as he soon heard a shotgun being prepared to shoot, just as he turned around to look a shot rang through the forest causing whatever birds that were resting on the trees to fly away. That face how could he forget it, Boa Hancock's doppelgänger, that hideous face with a big gun in her hand.

He waited for the impact but it never came, he looked in front of him and saw that one thing that he would never forget. Luffy, his brother who he swore to hate and torture for all eternity, he had a big stake going through his heart. He had taken the hit for him.

He stood there frozen watching as his brother stumbled backwards, acting on instinct he caught him and laid him down before trying to remove the stake from his chest. But he realized that it was a futile attempt, the more he pulled the closer his brother came to death, it didn't look right to him, not with his brother motioning for him to come closer so he could whisper in his ear.

Forgive me Ace, I never really wanted any of this but I don't regret it. I just want you to forgive me for all I have done to you and please live forever, don't die, not yet.

It took him just this much for him to snap as his brother closed his eyes and turned grey and rotting, he was smiling. Damn it smiling of all things, why would he smile, he was always weird and Ace never understood him but to smile and beg for his forgiveness, this isn't something people think of when they are dying.

Another refill of the shotgun brought Ace to reality, he was burning with anger and hate more than he ever was in his entire long life. He stood up with a deadly glare that meant he is going to do dirty his hands and nothing is stopping him. He shot it at the doppelgänger who pointed her shotgun towards his chest; she readied her finger on the trigger.

Instantly he appeared in front of her and ripped the shotgun away from her hand before stabbing her with whatever sharp thing his hand caught. He heard her gasp as the sharp metal pole that lay on the floor pierced into her gut. She wanted to fight back but the grip on her neck was too tight, it was stealing her air. "You bitch are no better than Hancock," he growled before turning predatory and ripping into her neck, successfully killing her.

Her struggles went limp as she hung in the air by Ace's hand around her neck, he looked at her with a psychopathic expression, he added pressure to her neck, enough to severe it and for the body to fall on the ground headless. He smirked as he leaned down and went to rip her other body parts apart, he wanted her to feel Luffy's anger, he wanted her to know to never mess with the ripper because his brother is just as bad as him.

The rain poured on his skin hardly as he stood there in front of the grave, maybe now it is a good time to shut his humanity off but he couldn't do it. He was alone with no one to keep him going, he hates to admit it but Luffy was his reason for living.

He bit his lips as he stood there, seconds turned to minutes and into hours. He just let himself be soaked by the clouds as he froze in his place. What was he to do now, who was he to annoy and torture, make their life a living hell. He had no one left.

He lived his life a lonely one but this, this is the closest he got to loneliness, and it hurt. There was this emotion he never felt, it was hurting his heart, it made him feel as if he was dying and he hated it.

Something burned in his eye before something wet contacted his cheek. He blinked at the strange feeling and brought his hand to his cheek touching the wet and salty substance before looking at his hands.

Tears

Tears…

He was crying. Tears were escaping his eyes that only meant one thing, he was crying. Why was he crying, he never cried for anyone, not his father, his grandfather, his other relatives or even his friends. So why now, why is he crying now of all times? Was it because it was Luffy who is dead?

Luffy?

It was Luffy, the reason he was crying was Luffy, he never hated his brother, and he could never bring himself to hate his sweet little innocent brother, even if he was the ripper, even if he was a vampire. The hell he could be a demon or an alien and he would never hate his brother.

His legs failed him as he fell to the ground, leaning on the grave with his hands as means of support he sniffed as more tears fell. How could he be so blinded by rage, he was angry at Hancock, he was mad the entire time that he lashed at his own brother who only longed for his forgiveness. What kind of brother was he to push his younger brother away?

It was then that he noticed that he missed out a lot, he could only remember when he was human and that's all; they separated after the day they turned. The only time they would run into each other wasn't pleasant what so ever and only harvested bad memories.

Now that he thinks of it he was happy the last few years, they had been together for a decade watching each other's back. Sure they were wary of each other but in the end they went through, they smiled and had fun. He missed working together, he missed that goofy smile, and that appetite of his; to stop himself from going on a rampage for blood he would be eating human food nonstop, they both used the same method.

Why was he like this? Why was he so tempestuous and irascible and reckless? It was a damn mistake and it cost him the life of the most important person in the world, why did he even let that woman come into their lives. This was unnatural, he should've died back then when his grandfather shot him, at least it would've been an honorable death.

He didn't want to live this long, each day was enough for him; he only hoped that he could at least reach the age of 25. Who was he kidding, he is forever stuck being 22, and he would be stuck alive forever, he was a vampire for crying out loud.

He lost track of time as he leaned on the grave grieving for his brother, he didn't notice the rain stopping, the moonlight or the sun rising. It was when the rays hit his eyes that he noticed. How long was he sulking and crying? Did anyone see him? What time was it? Many thoughts swarmed in his mind but none of them was as important as his long lost question.

Was it good that I was born?

As a little boy he always questioned himself, he always blamed himself for his mother's death; he also blamed his father for it. It was until Luffy came into his life that he chose to live, he always wanted to die and viewed his life worthless but it was that one little infant that changed everything.

Now that one hope is gone what was the use of living, is there anyone he could ever care about. What a stupid question, no one could replace his precious little brother. He chuckled dryly at how he had managed to survive the past few days, the funeral and everything seemed so cliché. But no one came; no one visited the grave or gave their condolence. Nothing at all.

He stood up and wiped his tears away with a deep breath. He had his mind made up with a resolve made of steal. He was a man of his words and would never break a promise but this is just one exception to his rule. This is going to be the last promise he would ever break.

He looked at the sky and noticed that the sun has yet to rise; it was painted in dark orange meaning that the time was nearing. He looked at the grave and smiled, he was happy in a moment of sadness. 'Sorry Luffy that I would have to break our promise but I cant live without you' he thought as he slid of his daylight ring and placed it on the grave.

He looked at the grave with a smile as he took in deep breaths to prepare himself to what was coming. He was ready to whatever is going to happen next, he would face everyone and apologize, he would die.

The sun began rising in the sky, the sunrays shone on the cemetery past the tress, he waited for the light to reach him. And when it did he burned. His skin turned red to burned until it was set on fire, he didn't scream, he just laughed.

He was burning and laughing. Where is the sanity in that? Why would he laugh when dying? Why would he do that to himself? No one knew the answer as Portgas D. Ace began burning away from this world, he wouldn't leave a trace behind him, and no one would know that he is dead.

He always fantasized fire, he wanted to play with it but he couldn't, not while he was a vampire. He was glad that the way he died was being on fire, it felt almost honorable. He now understood why Luffy died with a smile, he was happy to be loved.

No one showed up in the cemetery and no one would notice him burning. He would burn now, tomorrow and forever. He would burn all the pages in his book that was called life. He would burn and burn until nothing was left.

He smiled till the very end, until he was completely incinerated. It was a shame that no one saw that smile as it faded. That smile that had been missing for centuries; It was his trademark smile, the one his brother liked.

He left the world in happiness after his brother. He left the world without people knowing. He left nothing behind him, was it a house or a signature or a cup or a whole lot of Vervain supply for the towns people; those small things didn't matter. He burned into tomorrow.

The next day another stone was added to the cemetery, the name Portgas D. Ace was engraved on it. How did it appear there no one knew, nor did the people know who was that red headed man. He looked at the grave with a sad smile as he placed a straw hat on the younger's grave and an orange cowboy hat with two smiley's – one smiling the other frowning – on the new grave along with a green dagger.

He traced the names with his one and only hand, softly in an attempt to not damage them. He took in a deep breath as a tear rolled down his scared eye and stood up. He gave the two graves one last glance before he disappeared into the forest, "just like them…things never change Luffy, Ace," he muttered as his body began break into million pieces of light until completely fading from the world.

THE END

A/N: So how was it? Hopefully you liked it, and let me just say that I didn't mean any pairing by putting Hancock there, it was just that she was a good replacement for Katherine. And as you might have guessed, Ace is Damon, Luffy is Stefan, Nami is Boney, Sanji is somehow Caroline, Zoro is Tyler, Sabo is Alaric and well Marco is sort of like Claus or something, he is probably Alaric II. I added the random family names for Nami, Sabo, Sanji and Marco since they don't have any.Oh I also forgot about Robin she is Lexi, Ran is Emily (the witch that was with Katherine), Margaret isn't based on anyone she was there for Robin. I didn't want to add any OC's so I left Margaret's daughter and Hancock's doppelgänger (who plays Elena) as they are, the only exception would be Rose but I needed someone, a female to be part of the family but in this case she is Luffy's mother. I've been having and obsession with the name Rose and Luffy, she could be his mother or probably in the future his wife but who knows, just something going on in my mind.And Shanks is the guy who was at their graves, he is nobody, neither Ace nor Luffy know who he is but he knows them, and he is like this old man in movies with the time machine or something like that but oh well hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave a review or a comment on how the story was.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #portage D. ace #my fic