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igotanidea · 2 years

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Kupala night : Morpheus x slav!reader

This one is for all my slavic!European fellas here. I take the liberty of tagging @somest1.

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Kupala night

I was born In 976 in a small slovian village. For the first 16 years of my life I believed to be just an ordinary girl, even if I was reluctant to the thought of getting married, raising kids and spending my whole life in this godforsaken hole. Everyone around me was living like that and were constantly trying to convince me that this was sort of a duty and I should get back down on earth instead of keeping my head in the clouds, dreaming.

Speaking of dreaming….

Nights were my time to escape reality. To get away from the mundane world, boring day-to-day affairs, the same circle over and over. Dreams brought me relief, feeling like I was in control, my imagination running wild. I guess my too-active-at-night brain captured the attention of the Dream Lord himself. One night, he just appeared inside my dream, out of nowhere, for no particular reason and with no particular purpose. Dressed in all black, with messy hair and glistening eyes, wearing a log coat made from a fabric that I have never seen before. I was startled at first, but quickly regained my focus. There was something … intense yet also calming in his presence. Something was telling me it was no intention of his to hurt me or scare me. Since we were in my dream I took it upon me to host this meeting.

“Hello stranger. What brings you here?”

“Greeting, dreamer. I am Lord of Dreams, King of the Nightmare realm. Ruler of the Dreaming.”

“Sounds… powerful.”

“It is. And I am the one who control your sleeping hours.”

“I see” I nodded, my hair falling into my eyes. I hated those traditions, that a girl has to wear long hair up until she is married. This old custom known as “the first haircut” made no sense at all. “Thank you for that then, My Lord. Those hours are the only one that gives me a bit of peace.”

“How so?” his voice was dark and soft with a tone of curiosity which encouraged me to continue.

“I don’t think like I belong here. In this place” I turned my head around “I feel like I’m suffocating. I want more from life. I don’t think I’m like the other girls in the village.”

“You are not.” He spoke calmly taking a step forward showing himself in whole and only now I’ve noticed his whole figure. He sure was not an ordinary human with all his physique. Dream Lord, in some unimaginable way was both strong and muscular but also soft and delicate. Kind of man in whose arms any other woman would probably fall into within a heartbeat and the handsome one I felt like running away from as far as possible. Not because he was a stranger or because it was a shame for a maiden to be around a man without chaperone. Because I was awfully aware of my own flaws and this perfection in front of me made me self-conscious.

“And you came here to tell me that, My Lord?” I eyed him with curiosity

“No.” this simple answer hanged in the silence between us and I was wise enough not to push any words from him “I came because I was bored.”

“Just like me?”

“Yes” he hesitated “what you said about people being small, living on a day-to-day basis it true. Since the begging of my existence I never came across a human who would dare to question the reality the way you do. You are different.

“So different, most believe me to be a witch. Or a demon.”

“You are neither of them. I would know. But tell me, dreamer , what is it that makes you so?”

“Maybe I’m bored too. It’s not within my powers to stand against the customs. Some of them I truly enjoy but….”

“You seek freedom.”

“That I do.”

“Then let the dreams be your way to that. I will grant you this favor.”

“And what shall you require In return my Lord”

“Keep your dreaming. They may entertain me for the time being”

***

And so this agreement with Dream Lord (which I’ve later learned was named Morpheus) went on. Every night I was dreaming and he was watching from the distance. Until one June night where all the village were preparing for a celebration called “Kupala night” when no one was supposed to sleep. It was a festive that all the unmarried girls and bachelors were eagerly awaiting. The woods for fires was gatheres from the forest, the maidens were weaving coronets wondering what flowers and plants to use for them. One of the events for the night was called “unhanding the wraths”, some sort of prediction whether the girl will be married and to whom. Three possible outcome of that trial was either the girl becoming an old maid (if the coronet got stuck in the scirpus), the girl waiting for her beloved for a long time (if it kept on flowing on water) or getting married to the boy who were the first to retrieve the wrath. Of course, the first and second fate was worse than death and every maiden feared it, hence the discussion about the plants that will ensure success. For the sake of it I tried my best to involve myself in those preparations, but my mind was elsewhere. I truly enjoyed Kupala as a night of fun, music and fires, but it was also a missed meeting with Dream. Guess you can’t have everything in life.

When the night fell, the darkness came and the first fire was lit the celebration has begun. The oldest housekeepers threw some herbs into the bonfires – sagebrush, clary and some other as a symbol of fertily and abundance for the upcoming year. Then the village priest started chanting prayers towards our gods and everyone joined. Once we were done with the official parts, some of the elders came forward telling stories about the legendary fern flowers, which, once found, was a symbol of luck and allegedly – immortality. The boys were allowed to wonder the forest on this particular night In search for it. Honestly, the boys were encouraged to do a lot tonight, like jumping through the fires. Not one and not two of them ended up with burned pants but it was only an occasion for laugh and jokes. Everyone was united and that was why I loved Kupala, soon enough getting involved with all the magic around and forgetting about Dream.

A while later it was time for girls to flow their wreaths. We stood on the one edge of the river while the boys went to the other. With shaking hands my friends put theirs coronets on the water, fingers crossed, hugging each other, slowly walking towards the boys part to check the outcome. Surprisingly, only one coronet was left uncaught. Mine. It was just flowing on the water heading towards the unknown. As if I wasn’t already the talk of the people. This was only a sign that fate was not on my sign and my beloved were not to show soon. Truly, I did not care about it that much. While the girls were heading back to the settlement accompanied by their lucky soon-to-be husbands I had a different purpose in my mind.

Instead of following the crowd I turned into the dark forest path. If the legends were true and the fern flower could really bring luck and happiness then perhaps it would get me out of this confined place and help me travel and explore the worlds. Oh, how I wish for that. I was walking the path, silent pleading in my head, muttering the words and surely looking crazy at the moment. Since I was not paying any attention to where I was stamping my feet I tripped and fell down.

“Ouch.” I gasped as my nose and forehead starting to swell. “Stupid girl! Focus on what’s real” I told myself getting up and wishing it was as easy to do as to say. I gathered myself in best intent to go back but before I made that plan into action I noticed…..

“No. no. This can’t be” . right in front of me, hidden underneath the tree trunk was … the fern flower. The mystical, magical symbol of everything everyone ever wanted. I immediately forgot about the whole world rushing towards the plant and falling on my knees next to it afraid to rip if off or even touch it. Instead I was just admiring it’s glowing, shiny petals, the delicate stem and leaves.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Gods! Dream! You have scared me.”

“Apologies.” He muttered looking down “but why are you awake?”

“We have a celebration, you know. A festive? As a being of years-old shouldn’t you know about it?”

“Humans customs change. It is not my will or intend to know all of them”

“Shall I explain it to you then my lord?” I asked innocently, smiling at him still happy about my discovery

“You may. And… “ he stopped abruptly looking down where the flower was growing.

“What? What is it?” I followed his gaze

“This flower. Did you found it?”

“Yes. Just a minute ago. Dream? You got this serious face of yours, should I be worried?”

“No. But my sister would not be happy about this.” He smirked

“Your sister?” I frowned in confusion

***

To cut the story short let me just sat that the legend of the fern flower’s immortal powers were in fact true. And despite Dream’s belief his sister (who was literal Death) did not mind. In her own words, she had to “succumb to ancient rules which were binding even for her”. And when she met me she was more than glad that I found it. She immediately started treating me like a sister and promised to keep in touch. Yes, that was not ominous at all. But speaking seriously, she was a delight. Not in the slightest what you may think of imagine death as, so different from her gloomy brother who had no idea about humans. Since I explained to him all the customs of my people, much to Death’s delight he started to treat me like his personal encyclopedia on human life. I was the one to explain to him things I never imagine would require explaining. Funny how it was he was so oblivious.

Since I became immortal I had to feel the village to avoid being burned on the stake as witch. Ever since I was travelling a lot, moving between places and countries, not really staying anywhere for long. Dream and Death were surprisingly helpful with that taking me in as a part of family. I suppose they were in need of someone who were as lonely as they were. Even if Dream would never admit that. But, since I was a woman it was obviously easier to form a connection with Death (you know girl to girl). Due to my incentive, in 1389 as the three of us visited some old tavern the sibling made a bet. They choose one particular man, named Hob, which Death blessed with immortality. The point was to see whether at some point he would seek death or would his passion for life stayed.

“I don’t see the point In that” Death opposed “we already have you, and you do not want to die, am I right?”

“I am not really a good benchmark, Death. I had no choice in that matter and just had to … adapt. But of course I am not complaining”

“she is right sister. We do not need another immortal human.”

“Oh, be quiet, Dream and just try to listen for once! You know what my friend, I will do it. I will grant him this gift. Do you take the bet, brother?”

“What bet?”

“That this man there will not wish to die, even after hundreds of years.”

“I accept. Therefore I shall meet him every hundred years and see where that goes.”

***

Hob and I soon became friends. I mean, how many immortals human with shared experience walk the earth. That was the thing that definitely brought us together. I really enjoyed living in the XXI century, but after so many years and so many changes I slowly started to miss my old customs, like Kupala, which people in the modern times forgot.

“Is everything alright with you, dear” Hob asked me on one June day. He was just about to attend his meeting with dream.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit stuck in the past. Did I ever tell you that back in X century my people were celebrating Kupala Night. If we were living in other times it would take place tonight”

“Yeah, you mentioned that before. I know about the …. Coronets, right?

“Yes” I sighed “guess my prediction back in time were right. I would never get a beloved”

“Really?” hob shook his head in disbelief “I think you should open your eyes, friend”

“Hob Gadling!” I crossed my yes “What are you implying? I though we were just friends!”

“I’m not talking about myself” he almost rolled his eyes “go figure it out, I’m already late.”

“Hob! Don’t you dare walking away from me like that!” I yelled but he just waved his hand in goodbye and with signature smile left the house. That cheeky bastard!

***

I opened my eyes and found myself in complete darkness instantly knowing that this was a dream. That or I was going crazy. Why else would my bed be on the edge of the forest? A familiar forest. Almost like the one I knew and walked back in X century. There was a light flickering between the trees and I instantly followed it, hearing the voices chanting some old prayers in ancient language I knew well enough.

“Perun, god of lightning, Weles, god of the underworld, save us from the demons, grant us safety and fertility. Bring us abundance and crops.’ The old man behind the fire spoke. I stood there with my feet rooted to the spot, tears threatening to fall down. It was like in the past. How I missed that!

“My child, do not lurk in the shadows, come forward, join our celebration” the man turned toward me and I was able to see his face.

“Iwo….” I whispered remembering the priest from the past. The only one to treat me like a normal person, never shaming or pointing fingers.

“My child, it’s wonderful to see you here.”

“But … but how….”

“It’s a dream, isn’t it” he smiled making me sit on the log next to fire “you missed Kupala and there we are. Do you wish to unhand the wreath or jump through the fire? Surely you don’t have to search for the fern anymore.”

I smiled faintly.

“It’s not the same. Besides, I do not have a coronet prepared”.

“Oh, but you do” he flicked the fingers and handed me ….

“Is it the same” I reached my hands towards the gift he was showing.

“The very same”. My old coronet from before 1000 years.

“How…?”

“Just go, my child…. It’s your second chance and who knows what the future may bring you.”

Hesitantly I get up and moved toward the river where the coronet was supposed to be unhanded.

“This is crazy” I muttered “but my whole life has already been so why not”. I let it go and slowly followed as it flowed. The memories from the past, the girls’ laughter, the boys’ teasing, the elders’ stories, the prophecies… I closed my eyes, trying my best to keep that in me, the ghost of past surrounding my every step. I didn’t really hope that the result I got back in the days would be any different. After all, I was alone with my thoughts in this forest. Not a soul around.

“my dreamer” surprisingly, dark, tall, lean figure emerged from the other side. It was almost like the day we first met

“Hello stranger. What brings you here?” I revoked the first word I spoke to him.

“I came to visit your dream. And perhaps, do something more “ he raised left hand in which he was holding … my coronet

“How…”

“I believe this is prophecy?”

‘Yes, but….”

“Does it not make you content?” he searched my eyes with curious expression on his face. His eyes were also hiding a bit of… fear of what I may say.

“Oh, Morpheus ….” I took a few steps towards him and hugged him not caring about the coronet getting crashed in the process. For a second I hid my face in his chest while he closed his hands around me “Is this a joke?” I pulled back frowning afraid he was messing around.

“Never, my love. I should have told you about my … feelings … sooner.”

“Then why now? What pushed you?” I looked him straight into eyes now noticing the relief and pure, undeniable love he was hiding inside.

“Well. Hob might have mentioned something about taking action and ….”

“And you listened?” I laughed “How out of character of you!” his grip on my waist tightened “easy, Dream. I’m glad you did. Hob can be a menace sometimes, but he is still a good friend. To me.” I added quickly “I know you do not need friends”

“But I do need you.” He leaned forward so our noses were touching

“So… are you gonna act on this need or …”

He didn’t let me finish as his soft lips connected with mine and we just stood like that, in a dream, In the middle of forest kissing. I guess the fern flower really did bring me luck.

@pinksirensong

#morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #sandman #sandman x oc #morpheus #the sandman imagine #morpheus x oc #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x oc #dream x oc #dream lord #dream lord x oc #the sandman netflix #lord morpheus #lord morpheus x oc #the sandman #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman x reader

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pb-dot · 9 months

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The Sisypheanism of Self Care

I don't know if the title is strictly accurate or uses words that are actual words, and neither do I care. Today's been a rough one and I'm granting myself license to be a little extra.

In the last year or so I've become acutely aware that the various mental health care I've been receiving hasn't really been hitting the mark. The talk therapy fails to function as much more than a pressure valve, although it in fairness has been a great pressure valve when I could get it. The problem is that we, that is to say, I and my doctor, former therapist, and social services caseworker haven't really made any inroads into making my life any better or breaking me out of my depression, or this spiral of unemployment, taking a job that doesn't fit my strengths, working until I have burnout and quit - repeat that I have been caught in for most of my adult life.

I was hoping there was an end coming to this time of faffing about with common sense cures for depression, my doctor currently suggests I lose some weight (I know, you're shocked) and take cold showers. In fairness, treatment-resistant depression probably isn't her field of expertise being a GP and all. Anyway, the reason why I hoped this was because I've recently been referred to the public psychiatric center that I know takes a somewhat more clinical approach to treatment, so although I wasn't holding out hope of being "cured" anytime soon, I was kind of hoping this would land me with a treatment plan of some sort. Maybe some different meds? A supplementary diagnosis of some sort? Who's to say, but a fella can dream, can't he?

So far I've talked to two separate mental health professionals who both seem deeply unsure about what to do about me. Out-fucking-standing. Oh, there were also some blood tests as I expressed I was a bit uncertain whether my antidepressants were, in fact, doing anything. I suppose that is the first thing you do in that instance, but I'm just expecting to hear that my body is treating the meds right, and the question if it does do something remains kind of floating in the air. That is, if it doesn't turn out I'm secretly immune to these as well.

Anyway, it's impatience on my end, and I'm fully aware of it. Diagnosing mental health conditions and neurodivergence is tricky and the consequences for making the wrong call can be pretty bad. That said, I'm just tired of getting mh treatment that I can't actually tell if does anything at the same time as I'm getting help getting back to work that I can't tell if does anything, and every time I talk to anyone in my life about this I can't but shrug and go "it'll pay off eventually... I hope."

It's all just such a waste. I was such a bright child in school, and although I wasn't quite as much of a standout during university, I did ok considering I was heavily depressed at the time. Hell, I'm still smart, pretty darn smart in certain fields, I would suggest, and my last formal test of my mental capabilities would agree. And yet, here I sit. Unemployed, frustrated, depressed, a walking pile of anxiety and dark thoughts so robust they almost, but thankfully not quite, should count as a philosophy by now.

Where did I go wrong? There are probably a bunch of things I could have done differently, but frankly, I also feel like Society, that old villain, has failed me in some rather profound ways. It's not just how difficult it has been getting mental health help that actually does something, or how absolutely debilitating being unemployed can be, although these certainly do contribute. My problem isn't just that my life is being made measurably worse by our old foe Late Stage Capitalism, although most of these are just made worse by that cancerous corpse of an ideology. The world seemingly has no place for me it feels like. Loneliness pushes in around me from every conceivable angle, dating is a nightmare, every job requires multi-year experience or specialized education I hadn't even heard about before reading about them, there seems to be no thought put into how exactly anyone not fitting into this cripplingly overspecialized work market is supposed to live their godfuckingdamned life, and that's not even getting into the climate shit.

I honestly hate how easy it is for me to pivot from talking about depression to unemployment. I hate how employment has to be a factor in my mental health. I hate how approximately nobody I've talked to about it, on the professional side, seems to get that I wasn't less depressed back when I was working. I hate how I can't get a job because it feels fucking impossible to be enough of a "go-getter with can-do attitude" to even make it to the interview stage when nothing feels good or worth it. I hate the fucking catch-22 of it all, and I hate that neither psychiatrist nor doctor nor case worker can even begin to unravel this Gordian knot for me, or even tell me where in the good grace of fuck I might begin pulling.

It's like they're saying "Sorry, your depression is untreatable and although we won't say it to your face, the labor market's general indifference to you should tell you that you have no place in it which in the current order of things means you have no value. Shame about that, someone probably should've told you all this before you did your best in school and endured the social ostracization that followed with being a kinda weird kid that loved books, all fueled by the fucking lie that it'd get better once you were done with school."

So yeah. I'm not having a fantastic day today, but I think getting some bile out of my system might have helped me feel a little less terrible? Better days than this will come, I'm sure. I'll try doing nice things for myself the rest of the day, although I'm not quite sure what they were. If I shitpost or rb more saucy art than usual today, that's probably what I ended up with

#peebs thinks #gripes #mental health #capitalism #depression #rant

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cruelfeline · 1 year

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In Tanta We Trust Trailer Assessment

So, as some of y'all already know, a gameplay trailer for the Forspoken DLC dropped this morning, along with a small article providing a little more information.

Trailer is here. Article is here. Both are required foundational material for this post.

I'm going to try to organize my thoughts in some sort of reasonable manner, but I am having Many Thoughts, so it might come across as haphazard. I'll try to provide a little bulletpoint summary of major takeaways at the end.

Also: so much of this is just me theorizing. Any and all of it has a good chance of being false. I'm just trying to make sense of All of This... so don't mind me if it turns out that I'm super wrong. Chances are, I am!

Anyway... let's just get into it.

New Enemies

The trailer provides us with clear views of some of our new enemies, namely the Rheddig.

The Rheddig are very clearly bird-themed. Feathered headdresses, feathered shoulders to their armor, and a bird-like mask that @phoenixiancrystallist already called. It's a little difficult to get good detail on the rest of their outfits; our best close-up views happen during the very opening of the trailer while Cinta is absolutely demolishing them, and things move a bit too fast for me, personally, to get much detail. However! An important point:

The Rheddig soldiers appear to be able to use magic.

And it's not Cuff's magic. It's not metallic and golden, as one might have expected. Rather, it's this sort of cyan-blue color. We see it twice, I believe used by the same soldier: first to imbue their spear with this cyan-magic, then to summon the spear back after throwing it. I think. The camera cuts make it a little hard to tell, but I'm pretty sure that's what happening.

So that's interesting. Given that this looks like a generic Rheddig soldier, not some sort of "special enemy" type individual.

Next up is this fella.

It's very difficult to discern from a still shot (I encourage everyone to go watch the trailer for this), but this is a winged enemy who has some sort of... I'm not sure... maybe pieces of something? maybe birds? floating around it, at waist-height. Again, too much movement going on to be able to easily tell. The wings appear to be like standard bird wings with visible feathers. Ah, and the legs and feet! Well. There are no feet. But the legs appear to be made out of strands of twisted material that end in points rather than feet.

The way they're designed is very reminiscent of Nightmares, namely the Riven Carcasses.

Finally, we have... whatever in the world this is.

Honestly, I have no idea. It's huge. It's reptilian. It has wings and a tail, but both seem to be either covered in or at least partially comprised of golden metal displaying Rheddig symbolism (the sunbursts, for example). Same with the little helmet it's wearing. I can't tell if this is a regular fantasy animal that has been outfitted with armor, or if it's some sort of early, proto-Breakbeast, or what. I honestly have no idea.

Frey's Magic

We know that Frey gets a new set of spells to use in this DLC, but until this trailer, we didn't really know what they might be.

Now... well, good gosh, but I have some theories. Let's first take a look at some of the demonstrated spells.

We've got this AOE business that first lifts some enemies into the air, then appears to crystallize them into golden metal. It's hard to glean from still images, but watch this moment in the trailer. Those Rheddig in the second image, are actually frozen into their positions, like statues. It doesn't, however, seem to be permanent. In the trailer, Cinta comes in to do a follow-up attack, upon which the golden statues regain their human form and can move again as normal.

We have this golden spear that, when thrown into an enemy, likewise solidifies them into a statue of golden-metallic crystalline whatnot.

Traversal spells appear different, too. We've got this instead of Zip and Spin; no longer does Frey appear to use Sila's fire magic to grab onto the... very golden-looking crystals; rather, she uses a golden line. While she's doing so, her body seems... very reminiscent of Susurrus' metal when he's in humanoid form. Which is. Interesting. And while I was intrigued by her using her left hand here at first, when I went in-game and used Sila's Zip a few times, I found that Frey actually uses both her right and left hands for the spell. So that doesn't seem crucial here.

We've got this gravity-type spell. Frey starts off attacking a floor-bound enemy (of which there are several) with a golden sword - which seems very similar to Sila's sword, but clearly the wrong color - and ends up forming with appears to be a small black hole that subsequently ends up drawing her foes in. Very interesting in that, even though gravity magic is being used, we have no sign of Prav's powers.

Finally, we have this. Frey appears to gather a ball of golden energy in her right hand. She tosses it at the downed reptilian enemy, and it appears to... I'm not sure. Enter the beast? Gather energy? It's a little hard to tell with all the particle effects. Whatever it does, it ends up forming huge metallic spikes that seem to either erupt from the creature, or stab into it, or a combination of the two. And these metallic spikes look very similar in composition to Susurrus' humanoid form's metal.

Frey's Arms

Small observation here, but it has to be said: not only is Cuff - as we know him - gone, but the sunburst symbols he's been replaced with seem to be progressing along Frey's body. At least, that's what it seems like to me, given that Frey has them only on her right arm in some shots and then on both arms in others. It's obviously hard to tell the timing based on random in-game combat scenes, but this here:

This, I feel, is very likely the beginning of the DLC. It appears to be a cutscene. It involves Frey down (article states that she arrives in this time period injured), and it seems like an appropriate introduction to Tanta Cinta. If that's the case, and this is the opening, then it's very clear that Frey does not start out with any marks on her left arm.

It follows, then, that whatever is going on with those marks is progressive; she starts with a few marks on her right arm, and then they spread.

Frey's Magic and Arms: Discussion

So, let's just take a second here to address the most glaring aspect of all these new spells: they're golden. They're golden, and they appear to be metallic in nature, and some of that metal looks very similar to either the golden metal-crystals of the Break, or to Suss' body, or both.

Which leads me to one of my current theories regarding what's happening with both the spells and Frey's arms: something it going on with the bond between Cuff and Frey, and it's causing his powers to bleed into hers.

Crystalline gold metal is a symptom of the Break. And what is the Break but a mucked-up mix of Tantas' and Susurrus' powers? That's what we see on the Breakborn and the Breakbeasts (one of the bears' entries even describes the gold as crystalline). It's what we see in the Breakshards.

I don't know if this is intentional (on Frey's part) or not... though I personally worry that it's not. I worry that Susurrus is enacting his plan to drive Frey mad, except it's less about ruining her mental health and more about actually infecting her body with his essence. In the process, she gets access to his magic, but eventually... eventually, he takes her o ver. Or kills her. Whatever.

Mind you, it's also possible that this is a voluntary cooperation between the two of them, but... ehn. I'm not an optimistic person.

Especially with those lines in the DLC article: "[Frey] also learns a grim truth about herself" and "...Frey sets out to discover the truth behind these events, save Athia… and perhaps also herself." It wouldn't surprise me if that grim truth was that she's being taken over, or dying, or otherwise unable to live with a whole-ass demon contained in her body.

I am Concerned. Let's just leave it at that.

Tanta Cinta

I actually don't have much to say about Cinta. She's not a focal point for me in this, though her combat style, with the toranas liberally used, is looking excellent. I can't say too much about her spells because they're just too particle effect-y for me to make easy sense of in this trailer.

However, she apparently slits throats. Which is neat.

Where Is My Son

So, obviously, the most important thing to me, personally, in this DLC is Cuff's status and involvement.

Thus far, we haven't heard his voice, or had any mention of him in any of the written promotional material. Nothing. If I'm assessing the above screenshot correctly, he doesn't seem to be on Frey's right arm at this point (suspected opening) of the DLC. Maybe... it's hard to see. Anyway: no sign of Cuff.

Which is reeeeeally weird. Like. Either they've just cut him out of this - which I guess is not impossible but also would be (a) super strange and (b) crushingly disappointing to me personally, or whatever is going on with him is spoiler-y enough that they don't want to mention him for fear of giving story away.

It's uncomfortable for me, though. Not even any little birds when Frey does her strange new spells... I miss my wrist idiot!

I really hope they didn't just replace him with Cinta for the DLC, though I'm prepped for it. If that's the case, then I shall be a sad little lynx without my sassy commentary buddy for my playthrough. Hope he makes it through :<

The Gloaming

At the very, very end of the trailer, we have Frey asking someone what "the gloaming" does, to which an unfamiliar male voice replies: "It destroys Athia, of course."

There's no indication of what The Gloaming is. In terms of definition, "gloaming" refers to twilight, or dusk. That time of the evening when it's not quite fully dark yet, but the street lamps have come on, and you can't see as well in the waning light.

But what it is in-game... no idea.

I don't know if it involves how Rheddah has used Cuff, or if it's a totally separate thing. Don't know if it's a plan, or a machine, or a creature, or what.

Whatever it is, one thing is really apparent: people want to destroy Athia. Not conquer it, not take it over. Destroy it. Which is really, really harsh. Like... I've seen so many stories where countries are being taken over and, say, assimilated into an empire. But this doesn't appear to be that. Between how Cuff behaves in the main game, and this specific trailer line, it really seems like someone truly wants Athia to not exist. Which is much more interesting than simply wanting to rule it.

Closing Summary

All right. That was a lot. Let me see if I can just bullet-point my main feelings/observations...

the Rheddig wear highly bird-themed armor and appear to be able to use a cyan-colored magic

one of the enemies that fights alongside the Rheddig has avian wings, can fly, and doesn't appear to have feet

Cuff is either totally gone or has changed into a different form characterized by metal line and sunburst markings on Frey's arm; said markings appear to start on her right arm and eventually spread to cover both arms

it's impossible to say whether Frey can still use all of her Tanta magic; the spells showcased in the trailer appear to have a gold, metallic theme and crystallize her opponents into golden metal; this appears very similar to the Break's effects to me

Frey learns a "grim truth" about herself; no idea what this is, but my main worry is that it has something to do with Cuff infecting and destroying her, something involving how her new spells seem Break-like... basically, I worry for our daughter's safety and our wrist idiot's ability to function without killing her

I don't know know what The Gloaming is, but I assume it is not good; I likewise do not know who the man speaking at the end of the trailer is, but I assume he is not good

basically: I want my wrist idiot, and I would like him not to kill his only source of metal polish

All right! I think that's all I can manage for now. I'm sure I'll end up having more thoughts as the weeks go by... maybe we'll luck into some more content reveals!

If not, then we've only got three weeks to wait until this launches c:

#forspoken spoilers #in tanta we trust trailer

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prof-peach · 3 years

Note

Hello professor!

I run a research and rehabilitation center for Ghost types, and I'm somewhat perplexed by a shiny phantump which has recently come into my care.

According to the ranger base that sent him my way he was rejected by his mother, likely due to his coloration, and found entirely alone. Rare in ghost types as they tend to form strong attachments, but sadly not unheard of. Now, introducing pokemon who have never known others of their own kind can be a nightmare (Gastly, for example, tend to mistake the smog released by others for food) but I've never had too much trouble with phantump.

Until this little guy, that is. He has adamantly refused to play with the other phantump, instead clinging to me like a baby komala and wanting to be carried everywhere. Not unusual for insecure phantump, but he seemed entirely unresponsive to my usual techniques for building confidence. After bribing him with some treats and getting my gengar to translate, he confessed to being extremely insecure about his appearance.

I'm unsure if this was brought on by overhearing the rangers theorizing about why he was abandoned, but he's acutely aware that he doesn't look like the other phantump. The little guy is, understandably, terrified of being rejected again, and his social anxiety is through the roof. I've since begin socializing him with some shuppet, and the calmest and most secure phantump in my grove on a one-on-one basis. My local pokemon center has alsi provided me with a mineral powder that I apply to his bark, which makes it look browner and also helps protect against fungal infections.

This has helped him come out of his shell a little, but he's still terribly insecure about his red leaves. I'm reaching out to you as I am, embarrassingly, not very familliar with grass types. I've been told that, as the forests they dwell in are so dark, they don't need to photosynthezise to remain healthy. Still, I'm definitely hesitant to let him simply cover up his leaves. Is there something that could be applied to them, like "hair dye" essentially, that would be safe for my little guy to use until I can build his confidence up to where he's comfortable with his natural splendor?

Alrighty! So this is suuuuper common, shiny Pokemon can feel quite alienated at times for their colourations and general demeanour. For this particular case I’d advise you do a couple things to settle their nerves, some easy, some perhaps a little more tricky.

So, let’s start easy, the foliage is red, this is not only common in some shiny Pokemon, but also in some variant Pokemon, AND actual plants. Where you are, you may have limited access naturally to plants that are red pigmented. Go to a garden centre or nursery, splash a bit of cash and get some seeds, plants, shrubs and trees that are red. Plant them in an adequate accessible area that the phantump can get to with ease. You can find photinia, Berberis, acers, ivy, heuchera, hibiscus, even hazels which will give you nuts for yourself and Pokemon to enjoy come autumn. The red pigment is common, and we find proving this, even in plant form to Pokemon who are also uncommonly red, makes them begin to see their colour as a more normal and acceptable thing. This space will also give them a safe zone where they feel capable of camouflage, and this will instil a sense of security in them, even if they don’t first notice it straight away. Ask the garden centre workers for help should you not know where to plant certain things, or what would suit your location specifically, but there’s a lot to be said about a good old fashioned google, should you feel a little lost about the needs these plants may need.

This red zone seems trivial perhaps, but we’ve studied the effects this has on Pokemon with the very same issue you’re dealing with, and when given the choice, they go and hang out in the red plants far more than the green ones, should they share the same pigments. It helps individuals feel safe, and shows them that red isn’t bad, it’s just different to green, but equally functional, beautiful and capable.

NOW here’s the harder job that will help them gain some serious confidence, but is sure fire with time and patience.

You need to find an organisation, breeder, wild group, or trainer who also has a Pokemon with red pigments. Shiny Pokemon are rare but variants are far easier to find, and you can find red colourations in many grass types, ranging from Bulbasaur through to Eldegoss, and everything in between. The only criteria necessary for this to work for the phantump, is that the helper Pokemon need to be ok with youngsters, ie non hostile, and confident in themselves. There is endless research, countless papers, and a million studies, all proving that putting a Pokemon who is typically different but nervous about that, with others who are different but confident, will boost the nervous pokemons confidence tenfold given time. Many grass specialists exist around the various regions, so get on the internet or ask at local Pokemon centres and the likes, see what you can find close by, and organise socialising sessions for the phantump to mix with these other red pigment Pokemon. This whole process will take anything up to a year or two, just continuous care, repetition, and mixing with social confident Pokemon like themselves.

I’ll say right now, this is harder with phantump, ghost Pokemon can be a little more nervous, sometimes skittish, so y’all just need some patience with them, it’s hard to feel like you’re different from those around you, so put yourself in their shoes and just take things one day at a time.

I will also offer our labs services should you struggle to find somewhere local, we can make room for the little fella should you have no other options, though it is best to keep them in a location they feel more comfortable with, at least at the start. They’d have a chance to meet not only a huge number of other Pokemon who are red pigmented, but also we have one other shiny phantump in our care who has no issue with his physical appearance thanks to exactly the methods I’ve suggested above. Once they’ve gained confidence we would return them to your care, with a far more robust outlook on life.

With this in mind, weigh out your options, and try to show them others like themselves, be them plant or Pokemon, who have a bit more confidence to pass on words of wisdom, support, and company. This issue can indeed be resolved, it just can be a little tricky if you’re new to this species temperament when they feel isolated or self conscious like yours does. Covering up who they are is a temporary fix, and will not install long term confidence in themselves, dyes for plant matter are a little dangerous when over used, and can damage leaves and healthy growth, we don’t advise it in grass types too much to avoid damaging their soft squishy parts.

Good luck and hopefully you can find more just like them, to show them that it’s ok to be red, it’s not unusual, or wrong, and plenty of things have that pigmentation.

#pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks

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featherwriterweather · 3 years

Text

The speakeasy “Le bonne nuit” Riverdale season 3/smut

It was hot autumnal night. It felt more like a summer. The night breeze was whispering tales of the teenage love that was experienced in the past months. We all had our summer flings. Some of them blossomed into relationships, others had to stay hidden because of love that was said to be unfit or unworthy in front of the messed up society of the small town of Riverdale that we called home.

That night was much different then the rest of the nights we had ever since the new school year had started. Our friends, our brothers, all of which Serpents, had gathered in the tent park to discuss a matter that couldn’t be kept in the waiting. The Goolies were back and, as far as we knew, their leader, the former Serpent, or more like a black mamba as I liked to call her, Penny Peabody, were back in town and they wanted the taste of fresh blood. Their strings were pulled by the much higher standing persona of the man in black. And, as Ronnie had infromed us, this man was her father, the one and only Hiram Lodge.

I was an honorary Serpent and I still didn’t have my jacket on my back, but as the night was getting older and so was my bravery. I was sitting on the ground, near the fire, next to Tony and Cheryl. Sweet pea and Fangs were pressing their bags to the nearest tree. Fp was pacing back and forth in front of the fire, while Jug was sitting in his throne, an old chair with crown drawn on its leather, and his queen,Betty, who was also my editor in the Blue and Gold, was standing right by his side.

“We gotta do something, man. We can’t just let them go round our land free. If they want blood, we should give them some.” Sweet pea said as he pushed himself off the tree. His face was death serious, something I wasn’t used to see, at least not when we were alone. Nobody knew that him and I had a secret. After my parents fled on me during riot night, Tony had offered me shelter with the Serpents. Every single night since then, when I was feeling down, scared or had a nightmare, I would go to Sweet pea’s trailer and I would stay the night with him. At first, nothing really was happening between us. But the more I was seeking the comfort of his warm bed, the more we wanted to push it forward. And so during the last days of summer, after Josy ditched him, we finally laid the cards down and did it. We’ve been hooking up for quite some time but decided to keep it down low so it was only between me and him. But the others got a little suspicious of his protectivness over me, which found its way to the surface again that night.

As he was talking to Jug, going on how we should defend our last piece of land, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around me so I was warm. He prefered to be cold but to keep me warm. That act alone, of having his Serpent jacket on my back, gave me the voice I’ve been trying to find all along.

“No, Sweet pea! We will not attack first. That will give them a reason to kill us all. We have to get more information. If Hiram is helping them, we have to get into his deepest deals to get the game. Then we will attack and free ourselves once and for all of them.” Jug said while tapping with his leg nervously on the ground.

“That’s a very good idea, Jug. There is only one problem. My father never speaks to any of us about that. So we have to go to the people he trusts to get what we need.” Ronnie declared standing behind Jug. Nobody had seen her come to us but she was our strongest ally so we were happy whenever she could offer us a good piece of information.

“What do you have in mind, V?” Betty asked. She had that gift inside herself to read people’s mind just by looking into their eyes. Whenever an idea was forming in our head, she knew we were up to something. I wonder how she haven’t found out about me and Sweet pea yet.

“All I am saying is that his gorillas, Leo, James and whatever the hell were the names of the other, know more than I would ever know.”

“That’s easy. We will get them, fix up their faces and they will sing like birds.” Fangs said from his place next to the tree.

“Not everything is solved with fists, Fangs.” Fp blurted out with his nervous voice looking straight into Fangs as he was trying to tame a little tiger with the power of his eyesight.

“That’s at least an idea, Fangs. But these neanderthals don’t go anywhere without daddy. We would have to think of something else.” she answered him never cheating to her habit of gesturing with her hands.

“Don’t we forget something here, guys?” I said. All of a sudden everyone turned to me. “ They are men before everything else. And what usually makes a man go crazy and spill everything? Think about it.”

“A woman ready to play. I like how you’re thinking. If we could get those idiots drunk and hard, they will tell us all.” Tony finished for me beaming with pride at my idea.

“No! I am not putting you in danger. All of you. We would figure it all out.” Jug said shaking his head.

“Don’t shut us down just that quick, Jug. We are women, we know how to lure men into doing what we want.” Betty took the initiative. “I would go with my girls as a true queen, to help V please her dad and his gorillas. Meanwhile, you and the boys will be inside as security guards. The moment we get them to leave the Speakeasy, you can handle them as you want to. It’s a plan worth trying.”

“I am in. I got just the dress for that.” I said.

“No, Y/N! I am not keen on the idea of using our women for target.’‘ I was surprised by the sudden outburst of Sweet pea but I knew he was saying it because this plan involved me.

“It’s a good plan! We’ll do it. Tomorrow night. Veronica will invite her dad for a casual talk while the girls take care of the bodyguards as we are there to secure the Speakeasy.” Jug said approvingly.

The same night I went into Sweet pea’s trailer again. I knew he wasn’t happy for the plan but it was our best shot.

“Hey, Pea! Would you let me stay the night again?”

“You’re always welcome!” he said openning the sheets of his bed for me. “But I don’t know how I feel about the seduction thing you came up with. I don’t want to look how some asshole will touch you and look at you as you are an item he can claim”

“You don’t have a say here, Pea. I want to deserve my jacket and I think the idea is damn good. And you would be there to keep an eye on me and the gorilla. But I can do my best to assure you that it’s just work and nothing more to me.” I said as I kissed him and got on top of him.

Slowly I started moving all the while kissing him. I pulled away from him and took off my shirt. He was always in the mood for a middle of the night fun. His hand were tracing paths between my hips and my buttcheeks. He was squeezing tightly at the skin, kissing me with all the passion he got. I could feel how hard he was underneath me. In one swift motion he turned us over so now he was on top of me. I took the hem of his shirt in my fingers and lifted it towards his head. He took it off himself to easy me. Next his pants and boxers followed as well as my own bottom and lacy underwear. He trailed kissed down my neck and colar bone, slowly kissing his way down south to the place that craved him the most. I was already wet and he knew it well enought.

His kisses and touches sent chills through my whole body. Kissing all his way to my very core, he started drawing circles with his tongue. I buried my hands in his hair and left myself be completely absorbed in the sensation of him eating me out. It was something I loved to be given and he was giving it to me everytime. His hands found their way to my breast, squeezing them, claiming that they were made for his touch. My body was waving on its own under the sweet pressure of the extasy that was builing in me.

Soon enough he kissed his way back up and I felt a pure bliss when he entered me in one painfully slow but extremely good motion. He started moving slowly at first, kissing my neck. With each moan he was picking up the pace, making me go completely lost under his touch.

“You’re a mess right now, babe. So wet for me and so tight. Do you know how hard that makes me? How crazy I am about every part of you?” he hissed in my ear, biting it softly

“Dammit, Pea! You’re gonna make me scream if you continue to talk to me like that. And I am not sure I want to muffle this scream.”

“Scream for me, baby. I want to make you scream. You’re going to let go! So soon!” he was feeling how close I was. My walls were tightening agains him. I simply nodded and gave myself fully to the sensation of riding out my orgasm.

I knew he wasn’t finished yet, so I pushed him on his back and got to business.Just like he did, I kissed my way down to his still hard dick and slowly licked it all up from the core to the head. His deep moan made me go wet all over again. I took it deep into my mouth, giving him a firm stroke as I was sucking it. He hands got a hold of my hair making me go a little faster. His deep voice moans were making me eager to go faster and faster untill I felt him twich and realese the tention in my hand. His smile said it all to me as I went up to kiss his lips and then rest my head on his shoulder.

The morning came and so did the night. We all got dressed in our sexiest dresses and went to the Speakeasy waiting for Hiram to arrive with his gorillas for the casual talk with his daughter. The boys, who were all wearing black, stood by the bar playing their role of security guards for the night.

“Daddy, welcome!” Ronnie said as her dad walked inside.

“Mija, you wanted to talk to me, so here I am.” He said sitting at one of the tables.

“Let my girls take care of your fellas here, daddy, while we have some quility father-daughter time.” she said as she waved at us.

“Let’s do this girls!” Tony said as we all finished our drinks and went to the gorillas. They were three and so were we. Betty, Tony and I went up to them and sat in their laps. I could sense how mad Jug and Sweet pea were just by this sight. We started talking, whispering sweet nothings in their ears as we were handing them drink after drink after drink. Leo, the one that I took, was moving his hand up and down my leg that was peeking through the slit of the dress. I looked behind his shoulder and saw how Sweet pea squeezed his hand into a fist and slammed in on the bar. Jug put his hand on his chest and said word for I am pretty sure was “Not now, give them some more time!”

Soon the alcohol did its magic. The tree almost middle aged gorillas Hiram had hired were completely under our spell. All three of us stood up and took them by the hand taking them towards the back room with smile on our faces all the while biting our lips knowing that in a few second the boys would take care of them.

We took them back without Hiram seeing anything. Ronnie was doing amazing job at keeping him distracted.The boys slipped into the back room after us while Reggie and Pops were holding the forth at the bar.

“Ladies, you can step aside. We advice you not to see what will happen next.” Jug said telling us to leave.

“No, we’re staying. My girls and I want to see these scumbags singing like lovebirds.” Betty said with a certain dark beam in her eyes. We moved to the side of the room and waited the Serpents to work their own kind of magic to make them talk and spill all about Hiram’s plans with the Goolies and the drug dealing.

“Sweet pea, do you wanna show this one here how to act around a lady?” Jug said.

“My pleasure, Jones!” He said as he arched up his back and slammed his right fist in Leo’s face so hard that it broke his nose. “This is for touching my girl! Now let’s talk business. Speak! What has Hiram with the Goolies?”

I was weirdly proud of his eagerness to protect me, that he called me his girl and of his honor. But also I was a little scared of his force and thirst for punishing these scancs.

Not long after the first fists, all three of Hiram’s gorillas started singing all the information we need. We pulled it off as an incident of some drugged men trying to take us away from the gorillas. Hiram acted like he didn’t suspect anything and called them idiots. “You can’t even hold one teenage girl for the night without getting into a fight. Why did I even hire you? Let’s go! We’re done here, Mija! When you have a better deal, call me!”

“Oh, I will, daddy! I’ll make sure.” Ronnie said as she turned to us smiling. Our job for the night was done. Once more we proved that teenagers and especially the Serpents can trick the big bad men in black without them even noticing. But little did we know that the war between father and daughter had just begun.

#riverdale smut #riverdale imagine #riverdale southside #southside serpents #serpents imagine #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea smut #sweet pea and reader #sweet pea and you #riverdale gangs #riverdale season 3 #riverdale girls #serpent boys #riverdale serpents

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innittowinit · 4 years

Text

SBI headcanons awooga

Some headcanons and things for my sbi fd! Abandoned amusement park fic lol

Here's the link if you haven't read it btw

SBI last name is Reid, DT last name is Jackson btw lmao, i probably won't mention it much though unless it's like Mrs Reid for the sbi mom y'know

This has Tommy, Techno, Wilbur and Phil included; lmk if a dt post would be a good idea too

Tommy

The youngest brother, he’s seven lmao what a child

Even though he’s the youngest, he’s also the most confrontational and will gladly ‘fight’ anyone who talks bad about his brothers

He can’t fight

He’s very tall for his age but is also extremely light since he’s always running around

Phil tries to get him to try new foods a lot but Tommy’s a really picky eater

...Tantrums.. Every time he doesn’t get his way

This lead to his brothers spoiling him quite a bit, he’s still sweet enough though since Phil has had many stern conversations with him about being nice to people

Has a toy music boy, with collectable discs

Wilbur got his first disc for him, it’s his most prised possession

Every time he does all of his chores (which are really just small things like clean up after himself and keep his room tidy) someone, whether its his Mum, Wilbur or someone else, gets him a new disc

Techno got him ‘Pig step’ for his seventh birthday and he listens to it every night before bed

One time he snuck downstairs while Techno and Wilbur were having a sleepover and watched the horror movie they were watching without them realising it. Techno and Wil were the ones to get into trouble since Tommy wouldn’t sleep for a week afterwards.

Techno had to read him a story every night until he stopped thinking he was going to be eaten by a demon in the middle of the night

Drinks way too much caffeine for a kid, someone take this boys coke away

He’s got a habit of biting his nails, which has left him with some pretty crooked teeth, which will probably need to be fixed with braces when he’s older.

It’s also gross because he climbs so much there’s almost always dirt under his nails

Hasn’t really grasped the whole concept of not saying everything he thinks yet

Oh my god someone shut this boy up

He still believes in Santa and The easter bunny too

One time Techno told him Oogie Boogie from the nightmare before christmas was real and he cried

He talks a lot in school because he finds it boring but he’s also very good at maths and English for his age

Wilbur

Middle child, Wil is 13. Techno’s twin

He’s pretty insecure about his music even though he’s been playing his whole life

That’s why he likes being able to practice in L’manburg, there’s no pressure to be perfect when he’s alone with his brothers

Super extroverted and confident in everything else though, Since Techno can’t talk to most people, he usually tries to speak for both of them

After realising that Techno didn’t really like it when he said ‘Techno thinks’ a lot, back in primary school, he adapted to trying to speak for what Techno wants without making Techno’s issues obvious

They tell people who need to know, but for people they’ll only talk to a few times they usually just get away with Wilbur acting super obnoxious and loud so it seems like Techno just doesn’t have room to talk, rather than that he can't

It’s easier than getting into it since they don’t feel like most people will understand

has separation Anxiety, when he’s not with his brother he doesn’t relax/ feel safe at all. If it happens at school he won't do his work at all/ Will probably just leave the room and try to find Techno

Everyone kinda knows this and they try to suit things around it without saying it outright

He’s kinda embarrassed, he likes to think he’s the one protecting Techno but really they need each other the same amount

Techno gets this though, He doesn’t mind if wilbur has a bit of a saviour complex, he’ll play along if it makes him happy

They’re working on it with their Therapist though so don’t worry, he won't grow up to be an ass

Interests (besides music) include:

Watching obscure documentaries

Disney movies, favourite is peter pan

Skating

He and Techno got Picked on in primary school for being so close, he learnt kickboxing so he could defend himself if things ever got physical. Luckily they didn’t but he still knows how to kickbox so watch out

Almost always turning in homework late, he’s good at talking his way out of Detentions though.

And when he cant talk his way out, Techno finds a way to get detention too

He’s VERY protective of his younger brother(s(he was born first so he likes to insist that Techno is his little brother))

That’s good for the most part but he can be a little overbearing sometimes, he’s got detention many many times for cussing out people who so much as looked at Techno wrong

When he’s feeling guilty he mumbles a lot

Techno

Middle child, 13. Wilbur’s twin

Has selective Mutism, completely fine talking to Wilbur, Only talks to Tommy and Phil if Wil is there too but other than that he’s completely fine talking to them as well. He speaks to his parents but not as openly as he does with his brothers, with them its usually very quiet, one word sentences

Like Wilbur, separation Anxiety also, It’s not as bad as Wilbur’s is though, Wil just makes him comfortable enough to talk with his brothers, he can deal with being without Wilbur but he absolutely doesn’t want to

He can be a bit arrogant and possessive of his brothers at times, he’s a bit scared of them leaving him because he can be so difficult so he has a tendency to be cold to any new people they bring home

Interests include: Pvp games, ancient china, farming

He was hyper-fixated on a cartoon when he was younger and now he has multiple cosplays from it that he’ll probably never wear again

His hair is LONG and pink, they never figured out why it grew so fast or why it was pink but it is lmao

When he was born his parents were terrified, they thought he had some kind of rare condition that was going to hurt him but the doctors eventually came to the conclusion that he just had healthy hair that grew fast and the pinkness was due to an abnormality in the melanin in his system or something idk fellas im failing science pls pretend this part makes sense

Being silent with long pink hair as a kid, he got picked on a lot. There were many instances where he just pushed kids over or hit them because they were being mean

Since he’s the quiet one, teachers usually trust him a lot so he and wilbur used to skip class a lot, back when they got picked on, by saying they had to help another teacher do something

In an attempt to get him to be more social, his parents signed him up for violin lessons aged 8, he really liked his teacher and had even managed to speak a little to her over the past 4 years he took lessons

Spaces out a lot

He watches a lot of conspiracy theory videos but he doesn’t actually believe any of them, he just finds them interesting

One time he convinced Tommy they were living in a simulation and Tommy hit a kid to see if his hand would pass through

He’s spoken a few words to squidkid too since they’re childhood friends and he’s very comfortable with him. Ironically all he seems to say to him is ‘bozo’ to tease the other for saying it so often, instead of literally any other insult

Phil

Oldest brother, 16

Cares about his brothers so so so so so much like he will do anything to keep them happy and safe

One time he missed an exam because Tommy was sick and he wanted to take him to the doctor before anything else

Tommy was fine btw, just one of those bugs you get when you're little

Their parents are pretty distant so Phil has been pretty much raising them since he was little, he doesn’t mind though

Their parents aren’t bad people or anything, they just get called out a lot for work and can’t be at home a whole bunch, it’s a big part of the reason why Techno never got comfortable talking a lot around them

He works at a Nearby florist to get extra cash to buy his brothers things when his parents arent home

When their mum is home, he brings her flower arrangements home from work because he is sweet <3

He’s really into mythology and Folklore as well as drawing, when he was younger he had multiple sketchbooks filled up with different creatures that he had drawn

When he, techno and wilbur were all little, he used to play a game with them where they’d describe a monster off the tops of their heads and he’d draw it for them

Techno and Wilbur loved this and always put up Phil’s drawings on their bedroom walls

When he was 13 he used to write angsty poetry, He told wilbur about it one day and that's when wilbur first started adding lyrics to his songs

He can be pretty gullible, he likes to believe that people mean good no matter how hard it might be to see it that way

He can hold grudges for a pretty long time, he’s quick to forgive when it’s himself that’s been hurt but it’s very very hard to get on his good side again if you hurt his brothers

Watches Alien theories with techno, unlike techno he actually believes in them

Has the ‘i believe in aliens’ poster

When they were little, he used to grow strawberry plants with techno and Wilbur, this is what prompted techno to start growing other vegetables in their garden himself

#sleepyblr #sleepy bois inc #sbi #fanfic #mcyt #mineblr

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parrishh · 3 years

Text

i'm like, 90% sure all of the anons in my inbox right now are actually the same person so, if that's you, i'm just going to answer all of your mister impossible questions in this post since there are a lot of them and this is going to be really very extremely long

"Wait what why is Jordan awake?"/"Is the sweetmetal of declans picture helping jordan stay awake?"

i don't know why she's awake but i don't think it's the painting, because at the end of the book she's outside declan's apartment, not her own. i guess it's possible that she succeeded in making the painting a sweetmetal powerful enough to sustain her even there, but i feel like there's probably a different explanation. i've seen theories that she's inadvertently made herself into a sweetmetal by finally seeing herself as her own person rather than just a copy of hennessy, which is interesting

"And the things about the ley line Idgi? Hennessy wants to stop the power but for what"

i think hennessy thinks shutting down the ley line is the best (or even only) way to get rid of the lace. she hates herself for the lace to the extent that she doesn't even want to live anymore, so of course that's her primary motivation. she feels hopeless so long as the lace has power. she's desperate

"Why did he think adam was in on declans plan? I think the "oh" was more like oh you want to come with bryde of course...."

the "oh" is in response to ronan saying "i'm calling now. i need to see you", before there's even any mention of bryde. adam says "you're here? oh", not "you're here? why are you here?" the fact that he didn't ask why ronan was in town, the fact that he said an "oh" of realization instead, implied that he already knew why ronan was in town. and he could have only known by speaking to declan. i think it was a reasonable conclusion on ronan's part

"Ronan are you being serious????? Why should Adam/Declan drop everything and come fight with you - they didnt even know where you are, they don't know the plan. Then you accuse them of that Moderators plan without questioning them. And I mean, yes, Ronan is easily manipulated and he thinks everyone is against them and Bryde is the only one who cares but come on!!!!!!! Seriously, doesn't he get that he might be in the wrong????"

i mean, i think you hit the nail on the head when you said "he thinks everyone is against them." for a long time, he's been struggling with feeling alone, like he's a burden, like the people he loves don't really understand him. he's never had a healthy relationship with another dreamer, so it makes sense that he feels so isolated from literally everyone he cares about. and now he just found out two of the most important people in his life went behind his back to conspire against him (even if he doesn't have confirmation about adam, declan does admit to it over the phone) which is just...salt on a wound he's had since he was a kid. i'm not saying he's in the right, but i do understand why his immediate reaction was what it was. when you've been hurt like that, it takes some time before you can like, calm down and reconsider your own role in the situation

"Ronan basically dreamt Bryde in his worst dream right? Why does he still trust him"

i mean, i don't know how much we can believe what bryde says, but when he reveals himself as being ronan's dream he basically says that everything that he (bryde) wants, ronan already subconsciously wanted before he even dreamt him. that bryde wants it because ronan wanted it. to admit that bryde is in the wrong, ronan would have to admit he, himself, is in the wrong, too, and that's not easy. especially because a lot of his motivation is saving matthew and not wanting to live with the weight of matthew's life on his conscious anymore. especially because he's felt alone for so long, and now he just found out the first dreamer to truly make him feel less alone is his own creation. he's hurting. a lot. he will admit to being wrong in the third book, i think, but like i mentioned above, that kind of growth takes some time

"I think Ronan actually doubts Brydes plan too bc he thinks stuff like people built the dam, there are living things here, it cost a fortune..... and i personally never see a purpose in what they're doing bc bryde never tells them and ronan obviously doesn't know or he thinks he doesnt. I think he doesnt and he just trudts bryde blindly for now and his insecurities aka bryde take over and rule over ronan. Thoughts?"

i mean, i think ronan sees the purpose. here are his thoughts, directly quoted from chapter 17 when bryde is talking about restoring the ley lines:

"A world where Matthew could just live. A world where Ronan could just dream. A world where every dream was clear and crisp and easy to navigate, so there were never accidents or nightmares. He wanted it."

he wants, as i mentioned above, for matthew's life to not be reliant on his own (which i understand. that's a really heavy knowledge to live with.) he also just wants to be able to exist wherever he wants and with whomever he wants (thinking, for example, about how he wasn't able to get an apartment in boston in cdth), without constantly worrying that the nightwash is going to kill him. poor guy just wants a normal life

"Also did we ever actually see bryde get something out of a dream? Most work did Ronan"

this is interesting. now that you mention it, i don't think we do. supposedly he dreams the orbs, but i can't recall ever seeing that happen? i could be wrong, though

"And why is the nightwash mostly ronans problem? I mean hennessy and rhionna (?) had it very little and who knows if the other dreamers have it"

i think ronan is a much, much more powerful dreamer than any of the others. there's something...More about him. something special about being the greywaren. i don't know what it is, specifically, but i anticipate that's something we'll find out in the final book, and i expect it'll explain why the nightwash affects him more than it does the others

"Who the hell dreamt the mods"

i don't know! i think the most popular theory right now is that it was nathan farooq-lane. i'm not sure how that works, though, since they killed nathan and bryde took the sweetmetal off of lock pretty early in the book (unless nathan isn't actually dead, somehow) (or bryde is nathan, which is another popular theory). another theory is that it was ronan. like, he was feeling so alone and misunderstood that he accidentally dreamt his own persecutors? or it's possible that they were all just dreamt by random dreamers and that's why they felt strongly enough about the "cause" to become moderators, but that's kind of boring

"And why are R B and H so dangerous? Bc of what they're doing?"

yeah, and, i mean, according to liliana's visions, they have the power to end the world

"Can I point out that Idk what everyone is talking about, I dont get pynch possible breakup vibes at all from this book"/"Am I trippin or did I read another book? Because some fellas say there's no pynch"

i think when people say there's no pynch, they just mean that there's very minimal pynch interaction, specifically. because, yeah, even though they're both constantly thinking about each other, it is true that we only get one moment of them actually interacting (the phone call), and it's obviously not a positive interaction

i don't think anyone actually thinks they'll break up. at least, i haven't seen anyone say that and i've been feverishly reading everything under the mister impossible tag, so

"What struck me as really odd was that Adam bought this stupid 14$ waffle which he would have never done a few months back and I dont think he would do it now? 14$ is a lot of money esp for a waffle so why spend it on something as useless as this? And why do the others need Adams money? Are they all on scholarships? Was it just bc he had cash and the others didnt? And why is he treating them like his followers and they treat him as their guardian or whatever like he clearly needs to be honest with them"

okay, first off, i will say, as someone who grew up poor and, like adam, absolutely busted my ass in high school to get a good scholarship so i could go to college, the relief of actually getting that scholarship is...powerful. my financial anxiety definitely didn't disappear once that happened, but there was, at least in my experience, this feeling of "i made it, it's going to be okay now" that made it a little easier to spend money. i don't think it's that unrealistic that he, now having the security of a harvard education, would spend fourteen dollars on something he doesn't need every once in a while. it would be completely out of character for henrietta adam, yes, but it's a bit different now. plus, it wouldn't suit his faux Harvard Adam persona to refuse the waffle because of how much it costs

i think his friends are all a lot more well-off than he is. it was just that they didn't have any cash on them and the waffle truck didn't take card (also realistic, i never have cash on me so i always have to ask someone to spot me when a place turns out to be cash-only)

i think (a) they all look up to him because he has this really calm, cool and collected persona. more importantly, we can assume that they were all struggling with something when he met each of them, since they were all crying. now in swoops this guy who saw them upset and came to comfort and befriend them. of course they see him as something like a hero. and (b) i think he likes that. in high school, he was the one being rescued, not the one rescuing. i think he enjoys being the kind of person he used to wish he could be (ie. gansey. he's being gansey)

"I thought it a bit funny in a weird way that Declan talked about marrying Jordan…I can't imagine he was being too serious about it?"

no, i mean, i don't think he was literally proposing, not yet. he's just really happy for the first time in a long time (maybe ever) and, after a lifetime of pain and trauma and more responsibility than he ever signed up for, i don't blame him for wanting that feeling to last forever, even if he's not really thinking clearly

"Also I think it's amazing they make each other so happy but the ending makes me a bit sad or surprised bc shouldn't Matthew be his nr1 priority now?"

we only have jordan's perspective at the end, so when she thinks that it was clear declan had come out of his apartment looking for her, i don't think that necessarily means he wasn't also looking for matthew. i don't think it's fair to say that, in that moment, he should prioritize either matthew or jordan. he loves two dreams, so he can and should be concerned for both of them equally. i don't think one love is inherently more important than the other just because it's lasted longer or because it's family

#WHEW THIS TOOK FOREVER #thanks for the questions! sorry i don't know what i'm talking about half the time!#mister impossible #mister impossible spoilers #mi spoilers #w's mi asks #answered #anon

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unityghost · 3 years

Text

Strangers

Here’s some new fanfiction for those of you who wanted to see some (and I know some of you did). Sorry for my cat delaying the writing process by shoving her chonky little body into my lap.

Have fun with the angst that occasionally makes me question my decision to refrain from anonymity.

Part 28 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels because I can’t stop myself. Find the full series here.

That Thursday afternoon, two days after they had left early in the morning for Missouri, Dean and Sam returned home.

Gabriel, who was aware of Sam’s impending return, had left his door open so that Sam could simply enter if he wanted.

Sam knocked on the doorframe anyway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” said Gabriel. “Nice gash on your knuckles there, soldier. You didn’t even try to clean yourself up, did you?”

Sam glanced down at the offending hand. “I was distracted, I guess. And I thought it wasn’t really important.”

“What the hell did that to you? Pennywise?”

“The witch had a familiar. Guess she’d trained it to go after anyone who might want to mess with her.” “Was her familiar a saber-toothed tiger?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“A wolf?”

“No. She had a, uh - ” Sam cleared his throat. “A gerbil she’d probably done some powerful spellwork on.”

“Perfect! There’s your story for any awkward silence at the next family reunion. Can I try and heal you? You got bitten like chum.”

“Definitely not. Don’t waste any of your grace on this.”

“Whether ‘this’ was from the Loch Ness monster or a jacked class pet doesn’t make any difference to me. Come on, get over here.”

Sam gave a sigh and stepped nearer so that he could offer his hand. Gabriel grabbed him by the wrist and examined the wound, which was no longer bleeding but evidently had not been properly sanitized.

He pressed his thumb into the jagged cut, waited a moment (I’m gonna look like a tool if this doesn’t work), and let a warm pulse of grace permeate the skin. Gabriel’s own human form crawled with gooseflesh as the surge of power rose up and then ebbed out of him. He pulled away once the damage was no longer visible.

“Look at that!” he declared, taken aback by the pride in his voice. “No big deal.”

Sam studied his hand and then grinned at Gabriel. “Thanks. Nice work.”

“Keep away from any and all furry fiends, Sam.” A wave of exhaustion overtook Gabriel on the tail end of the sentence. “Yeah, um … listen, I’m glad you’re safe and sound. And I guess maybe it’s been a long morning or something, so I’m gonna go ahead and kick back for a good half hour or so. That sound okay to you?”

“You’re tired because you just used up your grace.” Gabriel could see it: Sam was making a conspicuous effort not to appear perturbed. “Gabe, man, you really didn’t - ”

“It’s not that, it’s not that; I just … I just need …” Gabriel rubbed his forehead. “Whatever, I’m all right; I just want to lie down for a few minutes. You know me. I’m like Manhattan: sexy, psychotic, and eternally sleepless.”

Sam looked concerned, but nodded. “Sure. I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Once Sam had left, closing the door in his wake, Gabriel felt sleep overcome him in a way it typically didn’t when he tried to fall asleep at night. His entire body was worn down, as if he had forced it to its limits over a number of hours. He almost wished he hadn’t offered to heal Sam; what use would he be if something more serious came up?

But he had little time to dwell on the question, as exhaustion overwhelmed the ability to think.

He slept deeply, as he almost never did; and in the abyss of his own subconscious, he heard voices.

I can’t be alone with them, I can’t; I don’t know them!

Shut your mouth, you spoiled little weasel. They gon’ be good to you; ain’t that right, boys?

I don’t know them; I don’t know them!

Oh, well now, you’ll get to know them soon enough. And ain’t these fellas just so lucky to ignite a friendship with my favorite archangel? Sometimes I wish I could make your acquaintance all over again, boy. There ain’t nothin’ like the first time.

I don’t know them; I don’t know them! Please, no, wait! Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you touch me? Stop it! Stop it! Look at me! Help me!

What happened in his dreams seemed to last hours; and indeed, when the door creaked open and a small voice called his name, the time was 5:00 P.M. - three and a half hours since Gabriel had told Sam he needed rest.

“Are you okay?” Jack called. “Sam told me to come check on you.”

With the flat, bitter taste of afternoon slumber in his mouth, Gabriel sat up. His face felt warm where it had pressed into the pillow. “Yeah. Yes. Apparently Sam went and got himself chewed up by a bloodthirsty hamster, and I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to try and fix it. Guess I had less in me than I thought.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. It was a gerbil, by the way. Not a hamster.”

“Whatever. Something in the category of small, furry, and unexpectedly lethal.”

“You know how witches are. Imagine what Rowena could do with a gerbil.”

Gabriel yawned. “Guess I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’re not shaking, are you?”

“Me? Nah.”

Jack stared at him. "I don't like seeing you like this."

"No refunds. Sorry, little guy.”

Jack watched him for a few moments, then strode over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Gabriel.

Jack pulled away, crestfallen. "Oh. I'm ... I'm sorry. I guess I thought I could help. If I had my powers, I ... maybe I could do more."

Gabriel shook his head. "Doubt it, bud. Don't feel bad, all right? This isn't about anything you're doing wrong. It's about me being too icky for you. Don't want you to get whatever disease it is I've turned into." Gabriel hadn’t anticipated this bitterness, especially not in front of Jack. The rush of self-loathing had seized him without warning.

Jack's expression creased into an odd mix of horror and puzzlement. Perhaps he sensed that these words were troubling, but didn’t fully understand them.

“You go ahead and tell Sam I’ll be right out,” Gabriel said, feeling as though he had just violated his nephew in some way. “Go on, let him know. I just need to stretch, all right?”

Slowly, Jack nodded. “Are you upset because I hugged you?”

“No! No, come on; I’m not upset over that, or over anything else. Don’t worry so much. I’m a grown-ass angel and can take care of my own damn self. And even if I couldn’t, the job isn’t yours.”

Jack seemed uncertain of what to say in response, so he simply nodded again, forced a smile, and exited the bedroom.

“Close the door,” Gabriel called. “I like to get my bearings in solitude.”

“Sure,” said Jack, although he sounded anything but sure.

Once the door was shut and Jack’s footsteps - lighter than Sam’s, more staccato - Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He would have liked to have been able to shake the dream off before heading into the hall, before seeing anyone else, but it stirred its way through his insides and refused to leave.

Once he had some semblance of composure, he dragged himself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where he found Jack and Sam sitting at the table in conversation.

Gabriel was disappointed but not surprised to hear Jack say, “And I think something might be wrong with him, but I don’t really know what” before both of them fell silent upon Gabriel’s entry.

“Oh, hey,” said Sam. There was a mug of coffee in front of him, still steaming. “You feeling okay? Were you asleep that whole time?”

“I …”

Sam glanced at Jack, who looked troubled. “Give us a minute.”

“I don’t think it’s true,” Jack said, not to Sam but to Gabriel. “It’s not true what you said about being able to take care of yourself.” He sounded bewildered.

No, Gabriel realized, He sounds hurt.

“I know when you’re not telling me the truth,” Jack said.

Before Gabriel could respond, Sam put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “For now, Jack. Okay?”

Jack looked back and forth between Sam and Gabriel, helpless, frustrated - and then jerked himself out of Sam’s grip and left the room.

Gabriel watched him leave. Once Jack was out of earshot, he said, “Kid’s messed up. My fault. He needs you more than I do.”

“No. No, he’s all right. He just wants to help and doesn’t know how.”

“Well, that’s not how things are supposed to be.”

“So, um …” Sam sat down. He was probably expecting Gabriel to do the same, but Gabriel felt more comfortable standing up. “What happened? Is something wrong? Jack said - ”

“I heard what Jack said.” Gabriel looked down, examining the floor.

“Are you okay?” Sam pressed.

“I’m fine.”

“You want me to ask Jack? See if he can confirm?”

Jack, who had been sent in place of Sam; who had been given the unfortunate duty of making sure that his uncle wasn’t in urgent need of help. Jack, who should have been too young to know anything of Gabriel’s pain. Jack, who was incapable of choosing for himself whether to opt in as caregiver or to step away from what he didn’t know - couldn’t know - was too heavy for such a naive spirit.

“No,” Gabriel said. “I would like to humbly request that you not ask him a single freakin’ thing.”

“Did you have bad dreams?”

The images floated into the present, still warm. He saw the face of a stranger (a demon whose presence had been background noise during Gabriel’s imprisonment, but who apparently had taken up space in his memory), bloated with derision and the definite appetite that only manifested in nightmares.

“Yeah,” Gabriel told Sam. “But - I mean, that’s, you know - ” Words hummed into static as he tried to think of just what to confess, and whether he ought to say anything at all. It wouldn’t necessarily do any good for either of them - and especially not for Sam, who had had only a few hours to recover from his encounter with a witch and her maniacal gerbil.

Sam gave him a moment to think before stepping in. “Look, Gabe, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I can tell when something’s the matter with you. Jack isn’t the only one.”

“Stop talking about Jack!” Gabriel snapped, and Sam blinked in surprise.

He asked, “Can I maybe do anything to help?”

Gabriel could tell that Sam feared pushing conversation, confession, or counsel. Sam wanted to know; Sam had every right to know. Gabriel owed him at least some piece of the truth. And so he said: “I’m sorry. Maybe I just missed you while you were away.”

Sam smiled at him. “You knew I was coming back, right?”

“Sure I did.” A pause, and then: “However, there is the minor possibility that the halfway point between ‘I’ll be right back’ and ‘I’ll head home once you’ve taken out the trash’ got lost in translation.”

Sam didn’t seem to immediately understand what Gabriel meant. When his look of puzzlement became one that Gabriel couldn’t quite identify - resigned, but also horrified - Sam got to his feet and took a few steps toward Gabriel and held out the hand that, just hours earlier, had sported an ugly wound.

“Oh please,” Gabriel said. “We don’t have to do this. You don’t need to suckle me. Maybe I’m just a little shaky after kicking my grace into gear. I mean, don’t think I’m not glad to have used it; your hand looks a hundred times - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, “I missed you too.”

The kitchen tilted and fogged. Sam jolted forward and caught him as Gabriel’s knees buckled, although he hadn’t felt particularly weak or faint up until that moment.

Like a punch to the jaw, he thought. Enough force at once and down you go.

Sam helped him to sit at the table.

“That was on purpose,” said Gabriel. “I was trying to do a cartwheel.”

“Can I get you some water? Some coffee? There’s still a lot left.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t need - I mean, there’s not much to be done when everything around me is fine.”

Sam squinted at him. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Yes. I’m all right.” He glanced away. “Or I thought I was.”

Sam hesitated for a few seconds. Then he asked: “Did you really think I wasn’t going to come back?”

“No, that’s not what I thought.”

“Honestly, Gabriel?”

Gabriel sagged in the chair. “What difference does it make? My intuition isn’t exactly razor-fine these days. I knew you were coming back. You’ve got family here. You’ve got every reason in the world to dust your rodent-bitten hands of whatever case, turn around, and head home.”

“You can come with me next time, if you want.”

“No, I - ” The idea of Sam being forced to tote him around like a needy child humiliated Gabriel. “I just see everything as a landmine, that’s all. You know what? You could tell me, ‘By the way, we’re thinking of retiling the bathroom’ and my first thought would be, ‘Have they been hinting that I’m supposed to retile the bathroom and I was too dense to pick up on it? Are they angry? Can I do something to make up for not retiling the bathroom? Did they run out of tasks to keep me around and are trying to think of some other use for me, or - ’”

“Okay,” Sam interrupted, “I get the picture. The important thing is I’m back now; I’m here, and you’re okay. It’s all okay.”

“Great. I can feel my troubles drifting away like spider silk on the summer breeze.”

“I know it’s easier said than believed, but that still doesn’t make it less true.”

Gabriel straightened up a little. The room was no longer spinning. “Sam, I know that you wouldn’t just, you know, completely disappear. I know that, okay? And even if you did go AWOL, I’ve got a whole team over here; it’s not like you’d be replaced with a stranger or - or anyone who wanted to hurt me. I know that,” he emphasized, and Sam, looking concerned, didn’t reply. “But,” Gabriel added, “I think I may have fallen into a little bit of an old pattern without realizing it. And I can’t really say why now, out of the blue. It isn’t as if you haven’t left for days at a time to do your job.”

“Is this the first time you ever felt that way when I left? Like I wasn’t going to come home? Like I was going to leave you to someone else?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, before he realized that that was actually wrong. In fact, he couldn’t remember an instance of Sam traveling when Gabriel hadn’t been, at the very least, nervous about being left without him. “I mean, no, but I haven’t had a nightmare about it. Not one this bad, not one this gruesome.” He swallowed. “I guess I was catching up on lost sleep, especially after using my grace.”

“What’d you dream about?”

“Oh, I dreamed about Asmodeus. And about some other demon I thought I’d maybe forgotten. One who watched over me once or twice when he - when Asmodeus - had other business to attend to. He would do to me everything Asmodeus did, only - only when he did it, it just felt different, because I didn’t even know his name. I used to plead with Asmodeus not to go, but sometimes he had to, I guess, and he left me. I look back on it, and I see that he couldn’t have stuck around for me all the time, but - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam interjected, “Can I ask you something?”

“Is it a less foreboding question than ‘can I ask you something’?”

“I want to know,” Sam said, “Why you end up trying to defend him.”

“What? I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, you do. He had no right to - ”

“I know, I know. He was in the wrong; I was the unwitting beaten animal. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I just don’t want you to - ”

“In any case, when he left I felt exposed. When it was him, I mostly knew what to expect, even if it was just a familiar face. I remember screaming and begging with him not to leave me by myself, either with no one or with someone I didn’t really know. I remember him laughing at me whenever I did that, or just pretending like he couldn’t hear me.” Gabriel shivered.

Sam took his hand. “It’s okay. That won’t happen to you again.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Good.”

“What are we gonna do about Jack?”

“Jack? I told you, Jack’s fine.”

“No, he’s confused. He thinks he wants to help me, and he doesn’t know that he can’t. Of everything that’s eaten away at his innocence, I think I might be the biggest culprit.”

“What? Jeez, Gabriel, that really couldn’t be farther from the truth. And anyway, I thought you didn’t want to talk about Jack anymore.”

“I want to be better for him. Or I at least want him to see something that isn’t this. Something that isn’t me the way I am now.”

“Don’t twist yourself in knots over Jack. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Why did you send him in?”

Sam frowned. “When? To check on you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, I was making coffee and I thought he might like to see you.” Sam suddenly looked troubled. “That’s really all it was. I wasn’t trying to stay away from you.”

“Yeah. I, uh … I know.” Gabriel focused on breathing steadily - not too shallow, not too deep - and on the weight of Sam’s hand. “You get it, right? That I trust the others, I do; but I don’t trust them the same way, exactly. You know? I can’t help that. I try, and I can’t. They care a lot; they show that they care and I like that. But it still - it feels different with you. I wish I could get everyone on the same level, Sam; it’d only be fair to you, and to them, if I could learn not to be afraid of anybody. I just don’t know how to be as okay with them as I am with you. I keep trying to fight that - I keep trying to remind myself that nobody here is dangerous. And that maybe I can ask them for the same things I would come to you for. You know, after a nightmare, or when my mind goes dark. It just feels different when you’re gone, Sam.”

Sam squeezed his hand. “That’s okay.”

“I don’t - ” Gabriel’s throat was tight. “I’m not - I still find Castiel sometimes, when I need help in the middle of the night. Wanna give you a break. He helps. Next to you, he’s the one who feels least like Asmodeus. I mean, there’s Jack, of course, but he’s a different ballgame. I can’t tell my brother the truth, though. I can’t tell him that I don’t really want him. He tries so hard and he’s a superstar. Even when I’m awake, with him, and - and crying, or sick, I can never bring myself to tell him what I’m really thinking. I can’t explain to him that a part of why I can’t really calm myself down is that I feel like I need you there.”

Sam seemed at a loss. “I don’t think that would bother Cas.”

“It’s difficult; it’s confusing to need the things that I do. It’s confusing to be this lost and out of control and dependent. I don’t think I’m handling it right.”

“There’s no right way. No wrong way, either.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Sam, but that’s just plain not true. There is a whole world of wrong ways to move through this experience. Someone with more sense would know that the aftermath of something like what happened to me isn’t as bad as being in the thick of it. But me, I can’t seem to get the one stubborn foot out of Hell no matter how hard I pull at it.” Gabriel felt his heartbeat entwine with the knot in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not supposed to need this.”

“To need what?”

“Not supposed to need to cry, I guess. I don’t think that’s the right way to get through this. What good’s crying gonna do, you know? It’s not helpful and it’s degrading.”

“It’s pretty normal, I think.”

“I don’t want it to become so frequent that - that you - ” As if his body was in a state of defiance, he felt tears slip down the edges of his nose. “That you see it so much it becomes background noise. That you don’t think - that you don’t take it seriously. I think that was part of why he started to just turn away from me. He’d seen me upset too many times to think anything of it.”

“Jesus, Gabriel, you keep trying to make this into your fault.”

“I want you to know that when I can’t - can’t hold myself together, it means nothing.”

“That’s not what I think when you cry, Gabriel.”

“After a while, though - ”

“No. And besides, you know how I feel about trying to keep it all inside.”

“Can we, uh - ” Gabriel dragged a shaking hand across his cheeks. “Can we maybe go somewhere else? I don’t want Jack to walk in and see this.”

“I can take you to my room. Can you get to your feet okay?”

Gabriel nodded and stood up, although the task proved more of a challenge than he had anticipated. Something in him was desperate not to move: he wanted to hide, to seek shelter in his own smallness.

“Come on.” Sam took his shoulder and steered him down the hall. Gabriel trained his eyes on the floor; if Jack was nearby, Gabriel wouldn’t have known.

Sam shut the door behind them as they entered the bedroom. Gabriel immediately curled up on the bed, face in his knees, hands gripping his hair.

He felt Sam sit next to him. “Hey, buddy, deep breaths.”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to look up. He hated himself for what he wanted just then: more than anything, he hoped that Sam would put an arm around him, or that Sam would hold him. But Sam was probably using caution, afraid that Gabriel would recoil from touch.

I don’t need that anyway, Gabriel told himself. I don’t need it. I don’t. I don’t need that.

“Not sure if this makes any difference,” Sam said after a while, “But try not to forget that I - that all of us - we understand what it feels like, you know. At least in some way. We all know what it’s like to want to look good for each other. All of us have been hurt pretty bad at some point. We don’t need each other any less than you need me. And we know how it feels to not want to tell the truth about that.”

Gabriel turned his head so that it rested sideways on his knees and he could look at Sam, who went on: “I just want you to keep in mind that however much you don’t like how things are right now, this isn’t you having a weird reaction to Amsodeus. I know it feels gross, but it isn’t wrong, Gabriel.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Gabriel whispered. “I feel like I’m wrong just because of whatever it is he made me into. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re really not.”

“I can feel it, Sam. The feeling of just being something wrong. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam told him, and Gabriel’s chest tightened at the realization that Sam knew precisely the feeling he was talking about.

“I wonder what he thought when he saw me like this,” Gabriel said hoarsely. “Sometimes he wasn’t exactly upfront about what was going on in his mind. What did he think when he saw this diseased little rodent clawing for a split second’s attention?”

Sam looked vaguely ill at these words. “It doesn’t matter what he thought of you.”

“It does matter, because I want to know that you aren’t thinking the same thing about me.”

“Well, I certainly don’t see you as a … a ‘diseased rodent.’ Where’d you come up with that? Gerbil still on your mind, huh?”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to return Sam’s half-hearted smile.

“I don’t see that at all,” Sam insisted. “I just see you.”

“Ugh. That’s worse.”

“You’re different. I see that. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so … different. Not because it’s bad; not because it’s wrong. Just because it’s, you know …”

“Different,” Gabriel muttered.

“Right. Because ‘different’ is what happens when you’ve had everything taken from you.”

Gabriel was silent.

“You’re still Gabriel, though,” Sam reminded him.

Gabriel closed his eyes. “I don’t know if that’s what I want to be.”

“You have a choice now. You can be Gabriel any way you like.”

Gabriel hid his face again.

So Sam saw him. He saw Gabriel. And when Sam saw this terrified, sobbing phantom of what Gabriel had once been, did he really think he was seeing the true Gabriel?

And why? Gabriel thought. Why won’t he touch me?

Sam’s voice broke through once more. “Asmodeus didn’t leave you with anything good, Gabriel. All he gave you was violence and fear and shame. And look - I don’t know about you, but I think it makes sense that it’d take some work to get back any of the good things he kept out of reach.”

Gabriel raised his head, showcasing what he felt was probably a grotesquely tear-stained visage. “Sure it does. Except that if he kept all that for so long, he must have had a reason. I don’t know that I want to put up a fight for happiness I don’t even deserve.”

“You do deserve it, and you should put up a fight.”

“I don’t know if I - ”

“Then I’ll put up a fight,” Sam said. “Okay?”

Almost involuntarily, as if seizing, Gabriel jerked sideways and used both hands to grab onto Sam’s arm. He squeezed tightly, not sure exactly what he was doing or why. It felt primitive and desperate.

Sam’s features softened. “Hey, hey …”

“Is it okay?” Gabriel asked hoarsely. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Of course it’s okay.”

The bewilderment in Sam’s voice served as a reminder that Gabriel was being stupid and overly cautious, that Sam definitely didn’t mind touching him, ever; but the fear was present no matter how irrational Gabriel understood it to be.

In fact, he realized, it wasn’t fear that plagued him as he worried about Sam’s potential aversion: it was something nearer shame.

Yes, he thought, of course he was ashamed - he wasn’t afraid of Sam not wanting to touch him; he was guilty that he wanted Sam to touch him when he knew that nobody should have to.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam, seeing that Gabriel hadn’t moved and was still clutching Sam’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel mumbled. “I think I might just be stupid.”

“No! You’re not stupid; you’re stressed.”

“I thought - you know, if you wanted to keep your hands to yourself, it’d be justified.”

“What? Listen, if you need something from me, Gabriel - some time to talk, or a hug - ”

“I can ask, I know. But I - ”

“But you don’t.”

“Well yeah, because what if you don’t want me around?”

“Come on, Gabriel, I do want you around.” Sam put a hand on Gabriel’s arm and pulled him in for an embrace. “God, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”

“Oh, that ship left the dock a long time ago.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Sam held onto him, and Gabriel didn’t try to hug back. He just let himself lean against Sam, not speaking, not crying.

“Sam,” he said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t get it into your head that you can’t leave to do your job. Don’t ever feel guilty about not being in my immediate vicinity just because I’m scared of my own reflection. Okay?”

“Sure, Gabriel. Okay.”

“I really mean it. Don’t let this change the way you operate. I came into your life by accident and you don’t need to take maternity leave for something that shouldn’t have thrown your life into chaos.”

Sam laughed. “I wasn’t working nine to five before you showed up, Gabriel.”

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“I do. I get it. You don’t have to worry about that; I’m glad you’re here. I like having you around. I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t being honest.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure how to explain that, in some ways, it would have been easier to accept the notion that Sam was lying.

Instead, he said: “I was so afraid of him, Sam.”

“I know.”

“He … but I was afraid of being left alone, too. Sometimes. I was afraid of the other demons, the ones I didn’t know. I never knew what to expect from them. They had weapons, and tricks, and insults, and - even the stupid ones were terrible; any simpleton can learn what violence is. And they watched him; they knew how to hurt me. They’d seen what he did to me. I was his toy and they were just happy to get a turn.”

Sam stiffened.

“So when you’re gone,” Gabriel whispered into his shoulder, “And I’m here with someone else, anyone else, a little of that just creeps on in. That’s all. I knew you were coming back, but I felt differently. I know Dean doesn’t want to hurt me. Or Cas, or Jack. When it was just me and those two, I didn’t - I knew I wasn’t threatened. None of this crew have ever given me any reason to believe I’m in danger around them. It’s just a dumb feeling.”

Sam sighed. “No, it’s not dumb. But you’re right: they’re not going to do anything to you.”

“When he’d come back,” Gabriel added, “He would brutalize me all over again. Taking my grace whenever there was enough to go around. Beating me until I couldn’t remember my own name. Just tearing me apart in any way he could.” Gabriel shook his head. “Didn’t matter how much I cried. He thought it was funny. ‘What a whiner,’ he’d say. ‘It’s almost like you think you didn’t deserve it.’”

“Gabriel, god!”

“Yeah, and then he’d - you know - off he’d go, leaving me sobbing like a baby. I kept hoping he’d hear me from wherever he was; I thought maybe he’d at least pay me some attention. Even if it was just to yell at me. No one wants to be wailing into their own blood and vomit solo.

“But it was my fault, always my fault. It was always me. I was the one who’d said something out of bounds; I was the one who asked for something I wasn’t supposed to want; I was the one who - who - ” Gabriel pressed himself against Sam. “And if he did show up, he’d ignore me. Turn his back, go about his business. I may as well have been any soul in Hell, just radio static.

“And when he did notice me, when he decided to stop shutting me out, he’d just say to shut up; or sometimes, for whatever reason, he would switch things up and give me a little spoonful of comfort before finding some other reason to grab me off the floor and slam me into the wall and then hold me down so he could play.”

Sam took a shivery breath. “I - yeah. Yeah, okay. Okay.”

“So when you’re gone, Sam, I can’t always think rationally. It’s as if maybe you want nothing to do with me, and the others - well, Sam’s not here to protect this nuisance who’s taken over our lives, so let’s get in what we can. And then it’s - it’s - if you don’t come back, what am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to trust?”

There was a pause. When Sam replied, he sounded restrained. “I really didn’t think about that.”

“Because there’s no reason to! Because you’ve got a brain that operates according to fact! Whereas mine leaps in any direction it sees fit in response to any threat, any hazard. And Sam, everything is a threat. Everything is a hazard. Compared to you, the others are strangers to me, and I don’t like strangers; I don’t trust them; I don’t know them.”

“I would never leave you with strangers.”

“And you shouldn’t have to leave me with anyone, Sam! I’m supposed to be able to watch over myself like a damn grown-up! But I can’t, not anymore; and who knows if the day will ever come when I’ll be able to take care of myself again? The important thing is I know you aren’t leaving me with strangers. What little remains of my rational mind finds that obvious. But these old ways of thinking, they just - they’re next to impossible for me to shake off.”

“I know.”

“That’s all this is. Old habits. Old ways of looking at what’s around me. Or what’s not.”

“I guess I’m glad you know that.” By now, Sam sounded almost as shaken as Gabriel did.

“If I could just balance out the knowing and the feeling, everything would be a whole lot easier for every single one of us. And one thing I don’t understand is …” But he trailed off, afraid of saying something the wrong way, or of being misunderstood, or - worst of all - overstepping a boundary.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it, Gabe?”

Gabriel shook his head.

Sam sighed. “Okay. All right.”

“No, it’s … all I was gonna say is that …” Gabriel was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face. “Maybe it’s because you were the only one who really tried, the only one who really showed a lot of concern for this deflated ragdoll of an angel that somehow ended up in your custody like a doorstep newborn. Maybe it’s just something about you, I don’t know. Something you have that the others don’t. I’m not sure, Sam. All I know is I have this - this gut-based terror about losing you. Not necessarily because you’ll get sick of me, but because - because - see, I don’t know. I feel it when you hold me like you are right now; the idea of letting go scares me more than Asmodeus ever did.”

He was afraid to look up, but he did; and Gabriel was horrified to see that Sam’s eyes were glossy with tears.

Gabriel wrenched himself away. “Don’t, don’t do that! I’m not trying to make anyone more upset. It’s not anything you’re doing wrong. It’s not that you could be doing anything different, Sam; you’re better at handling me than anyone has any right or reason to be.”

“Well …” Sam closed his eyes, gathered his composure. “Right.”

“I’m putting so much pressure on you with those words, aren’t I?” Gabriel was shivering now. “I’m making you think you have to be perfect, that you have to be next to me a hundred percent of the time.”

Sam swallowed and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I just wish you didn’t feel that way, is all. I wish you weren’t so … that he hadn’t made you feel like …”

“Right?” said Gabriel. “It’s hard to articulate, isn’t it? I can’t figure it out, and I don’t know what to do with it. Wanting the - needing to be taken care of the way I do lately, and needing it to be you, and being so scared to death that you might be there one second and gone the next. I don’t understand that feeling.

“There’s time to figure it out. Stop trying to force yourself to understand everything, Gabriel. You don’t have to, and it’ll probably come with time.” Sam looked flushed, but his eyes were dry now.

There was a sound from the hallway: a door opening, and small, tentative footsteps. They paused outside the door, and then moved on until neither Gabriel nor Sam could hear them.

“Jack came in and hugged me,” Gabriel told Sam.

“Oh. Sorry about that. I did say - ”

“No, it’s all right. I’m only bringing it up so you know you don’t have to warn him not to touch me. He can touch me. If he wants to.”

“What about what you want?”

“I … no, I just mean that maybe I’m not … not good for …” Gabriel gave a frustrated sigh, still speaking into Sam’s shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“I know you still worry about that.”

“About what?”

“I know that you worry about corrupting Jack.”

“I don’t know that I ever used the word ‘corrupt.’”

“But Gabriel, he cares about you. He looks up to you. And I know you think that’s a bad thing, but he likes you just the way you are now. He knows you’ve been through more than your fair share of trauma. He’s seen you when you’re not feeling your best. And he still wants to be around you. Listen, I’m not here to tell you what to do, but I really don’t think you should push him away.”

“I let him hug me! I’m not pushing him away. I’m trying to protect him.”

“But why? What good do you think is going to come of him seeing that you’re hurt, and walking away without any understanding of what’s going on? It’s better for him if he can learn how to help. Otherwise he’s going to feel like you don’t trust him.”

Gabriel froze. “Has … has he said that to you?”

“Not in so many words, no. He doesn’t always know how to articulate himself, or what’s frustrating him. You’re right: in a lot of ways, he’s just a kid. And I think instead of trying to stop him seeing you like this, you might teach him that wanting to help isn’t a bad thing. I just - I don’t want him to get the idea that he should try not to act the way he does. Loving you, caring about you. If you tell him no, if you keep trying to make him stay away from you when you most need somebody … he might get it into his head that he’s wrong to have those instincts.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean? So I’m - am I corrupting him by making it seem like it’s bad to be compassionate? That’s a whole new kind of crisis.”

“Not corrupting him. Just maybe sending a message that he finds confusing, since it goes against his nature.”

Gabriel considered this for a few moments.

Sam waited.

Then, finally Gabriel asked: “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. Back to the kitchen, maybe.”

“I guess I should talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to. Not right now. Just let him in when he wants to give you what you need.”

“No, I - let me go find him.” Gabriel started to rise from the bed, but Sam gently pulled him back down.

“What?” Gabriel demanded. “You think I shouldn’t talk to him?”

“It’s not that,” Sam replied. “I just want to make sure you’re not mad at yourself.”

“Not any more than usual.”

“If you go to him and say you hate yourself for ‘corrupting’ him any which way, you’re both gonna miss my point.”

“Please,” Gabriel said. “I just - I really - will you please let me talk to him?”

Sam looked pained. “I’m not going to keep you from talking to him. It’s up to you. I just want to make sure you feel okay.”

Gabriel stood up again. “I never feel okay.”

“Why don’t I go get him for you?” Sam suggested.

“You can do that as long as you don’t give him a contract to sign about when it’s okay to touch me.” Gabriel wasn’t sure why this was such a sticking point for him, but Sam’s words about Jack’s natural character, and about his impulses to express affection, made it seem more logical.

“I’ll get him for you,” Sam repeated. “Gabriel - ”

“Please, Sam. Either you can grab the kid or I can, but I really want to talk to him.”

Sam nodded, studying him, making sure. Then he patted Gabriel on the shoulder and left the room.

Jack came in a couple of minutes later, looking nervous.

“Hey, bud,” said Gabriel.

Jack raised a hand in a silent, tentative greeting.

“Wanted to have a word. Sit?”

Jack sat beside him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, please. You sound like your uncle.”

“Listen, if this is about me hugging you …”

“No, come on, kid; you didn’t do anything wrong.” Gabriel worried that Jack was picking up on some of his more neurotic interpersonal habits. “I wanted to thank you. And before you ask for what, you should know that you’re … you’re good, you’re a good bean; and I’m the one who isn’t doing what I should be. I’m not - Jack, I don’t mean to tell you to bug off when I know you only mean to help.”

“I know you think I’m too - ”

“I don’t think you’re too anything. I think I’m too - too me to let you get past a whole lot of nonsense. Look, I don’t wanna make this more complicated than it has to be; what I’m trying to say is that I’m not proud of myself for swatting at you like a fly when, in a perfect world, everybody would be like you.”

“Oh.” Jack looked down at his knees, thoughtful and perplexed.

“Don’t try to change yourself on account of my orneriness,” Gabriel clarified. “Be nice. Be good. Be you. You’ll just have to be patient with your stubborn old uncle. Sam can tell you that I’m difficult.”

Jack looked back up at him.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t know how to explain it any more eloquently than that.”

Jack nodded. “I think I do.” Gabriel waited for him to explain the concept, to paraphrase what he had just been told; but Jack said nothing, and Gabriel could only assume that the message had gotten through.

Finally, Jack replied, “I’m sorry too.”

“No - kid - I’m trying to say you have nothing - ”

“I mean I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry you got hurt. That’s all.”

Gabriel clamped his lips shut. He could only nod.

Jack stared at him, studying him, reading him like a map.

Gabriel gave a hoarse laugh. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“Do you want me to go get Sam?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“You looked like - ”

“I always look like that. Anyway, Jack, I hope you understand - at least a teensy bit - what it is I’m trying to explain to you. I’m sorry that I can’t wrangle a single thought into words.”

“I think I understand.” Jack hesitated, then asked: “So how can I help? What can I do?”

“Ah, I don’t know; you’ve already been doing everything right. I’m the one who’s trying to fight you on it. So just … just keep doing what you’re doing.” It pained Gabriel to say it. He agreed with Sam, but he could hardly stomach the instant guilt that came with implicitly encouraging Jack to watch Gabriel struggle.

Jack smiled, and Gabriel thought he saw relief in his eyes. “Okay. Sure. Thanks.”

“Oh, please. Thank you.” Gabriel felt that he ought to try and touch Jack and was ashamed that he couldn’t bring himself to initiate contact.

Someday, he told himself.

Jack stood up to go. “I hope you feel better later.”

“I already do.”

“You look - ”

Gabriel held up a hand. “Again: I always look like that.”

Sam reentered immediately after Jack made his exit. He looked tense and wide-eyed and was evidently trying to conceal his agitation. “Hey.”

“I’m fine,” said Gabriel.

“Did it - ”

“Everyone’s fine, Sam.”

“Listen,” Sam said, stepping over to the bed, “I really didn’t mean to make you think you were doing something wrong.”

“Except that I was doing something wrong, and I’m old enough to learn from my mistakes, so don’t apologize for straightening me out.”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything. I’m not trying to put pressure on you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes. It seemed that those hours of sleep had been anything but restful. “If you don’t drag my attention to where it really belongs, nothing’s ever gonna get set right. I told you, there is a wrong way to do this. Sometimes I see it, and sometimes I don’t. And if you’re going to fight me on that, if you wanna say there’s no 'wrong' way, then how about this? There’s a better way.”

“Well, Jack looked calmer for sure. How about you? You feeling better?”

Gabriel considered, and then shook his head. The lopsidedness of an afternoon cleaved by turbulent slumber had left a stinging headache, and the nightmare had nested in the pit of his stomach, souring his whole body.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have used your grace on me,” Sam lamented. “Don’t try again for a while, okay?”

“It’s not that. I can feel that that’s not what’s wrong with me. It’s what I said to you earlier; it’s me being afraid of everything.”

Sam retook his place on the bed. Although there was no way to see outdoors, Gabriel could feel the afternoon darkening into evening. Neither of them spoke.

He was painfully aware that Sam felt familiar to him. Sam was safe; he wasn’t going to try and harm Gabriel. Somehow that knowledge made everything much more complicated - in part, Gabriel realized, because there seemed no way to explain the feeling without coming off as saccharine, puerile, or both.

Although he was no longer crying (however much he wanted to), Gabriel hoped Sam would touch him. He thought about asking and couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

After several minutes of complete silence, Gabriel spoke. “Did you fight back?”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“The hamster, the gerbil, whatever it was. Did you fight back, or was it too precious to hurt?”

“There wasn’t much I could do. It was vicious.”

“Was it? Or are you just tender-hearted?”

“Gabriel, you saw what it did to my hand.”

Gabriel glanced down at the hand that had been injured. “Yeah. I don’t know, I feel like maybe you didn’t want to hurt the little thing.”

Sam seemed amused. “Why would you say that?”

Gabriel reached out and took Sam’s hand. Sam seemed surprised, but held on firmly.

“Just because I know you,” Gabriel told him. “I know you too well.”

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #sam winchester #gabriel #jack kline #sabriel #platonic #friendship #hurt/comfort #asmodeus #season 13 #gabriel lives #ptsd #pasf #post-asmodeus sabriel feels

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Back to Work (Winteriron)

Here, have a little piece I wrote when I got my second job and was nervous to the point of throwing up about going to work in a Real Place after years of running my bakery from my house!

THERE’S MORE WINTERIRON ON MY MASTERLIST!

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

"What do you mean, I should get a job?" It had been a while since Bucky had used his patented Murder Scowl on anyone, but right now the full force of that glare was directed towards Sam, and the glower didn't let up even when Tony reached for his hand and pressed at his palm. "Why th'hell would I do that?"

"You don't have to do anything." Tony was quick to jump in and interrupt whatever Sam was going to say. He knew there was a fine line between terrified- Bucky and furious-Bucky, and even though the two emotions tended to overlap, right now there was only fear in those pale eyes. "Bucky baby? You don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

"Tony's right." Sam shifted back on his seat and surreptitiously raised his notebook a little higher as if the flimsy paper would be any sort of shield if Bucky just hauled off and clocked him. The counselor was aware of the fine line between terrified Bucky and furious Bucky too, but he also knew that being scared hadn't ever stopped the former Winter Soldier from punching the shit outta whatever got in his way. "You don't have to do it if you don't want."

"Then why'd you bring it up?" Bucky relaxed only the tiniest bit. "Why'd ya even say it?"

"Cos an important part of healing is taking steps to be part of society again." Sam had his 'Therapist' voice on, direct but calm, soothing but also brooking no argument. "You said you wanted to get better so I'm helping you get better. You've done great with life here in the Tower, Bucky. The nightmares are almost non existent and you don't even snap at Clint any more when he gets in your space. The next step is re-integrating into life outside the Tower, and finding a job would be a good start."

"We all do it." Tony squeezed at Bucky's hand comfortingly. "Even Cap and Natasha. I go and do real, Pepper-approved work at Stark Industries two days a week. Steve teaches art classes at the college, Natasha works as a ballet instructor at that girls school down the road. Clint bags groceries for some reason--"

"--it gives him plenty of people to flirt with and requires very little concentration." Sam supplied and Tony grinned.

"--Thor works at the animal shelter on their weekly adoption days because no one could say no to an animal from him, and even though Bruce isn't comfortable working outside the Tower, a few times a week he does lectures via video conferencing."

"That's volunteer work." Bucky pointed out. "Don't matter if they go or not, that's not the same as a job."

"Oh no, they all get paychecks." Sam countered. "Just like I still pull a paycheck for my counseling work. I'm not saying you have to have a job and earn money to be worth anything, I'm saying it would go a long way towards making you feel human. Normal. Like Bucky Barnes instead of just 'Sergeant Barnes, the Winter Soldier."

"No ones gonna hire me." Bucky said bluntly. "Even if Tony put in a good word or Stevie All American charmed some one into interviewin' me, no one's gonna hire me. I gotta metal arm and seventy years worth’a PTSD and no manners."

"There are jobs that don't require much customer service." Sam tried to sound hopeful. "And I really think interaction with non avenger type people would be good for you."

"It definitely keeps me focused." Tony chimed in. "Pepper makes me work on reports and payroll so I’m forced to see how much work people are doing for how much money, and how our profits look compared to how many of my employees are living below the poverty line--"

Sam raised his eyebrows and Tony finished, “Which is none, thank you. But if I didn't do that work I'd have no idea and honestly, I can't promise I'd care. Steve's job keeps him connected to the generation of kids that will be writing laws here in a few years. Natasha's keeps her grounded and reminded that people at least start out good. Clint-- I dunno what Clint learns at his job, but he knows the name of every single person who comes in, which means he's really plugged into the community. It's good for them, good for the people of the city, good for everyone."

"Well, what would I do?" Bucky made a fist, silver fingers gleaming. "Who wants to look at this every day?"

"I can put some feelers out and see who's hiring." Sam answered. "Except for Bruce and obviously Tony, we all keep jobs outside of Stark-or-Avenger influence so it feels more real. I'll make a list, make a few calls and we'll figure it out, okay?"

"...okay." Bucky sounded entirely unsure of the whole thing, and Tony leaned close to whisper, "Bucky bear, say the word and I'll tell Sam to fuck off. You don't have to do this, alright? It's okay."

"You think I should do it though." Bucky whispered back. "Don't you?"

"I think it would be good for you to realize that most people aren't going to treat you like you have the plague." Tony dropped a quick kiss on Bucky's cheek. "I know reporters look at you funny and the Department of Defense thinks you're gonna crash their doors in at any minute but I'm telling you, the average person in New York won't even look twice. Sam's right, having that sorta response will make you feel normal."

"You said I don't hafta be normal."

"And you said that some days all you want is to be human again." Tony countered. "A job would help with that. But if you don't want to? No harm done babe. We'll move on and try something different."

Bucky thought he might actually be sick to his stomach, thought he could lean over right there and vomit on the floor because the thought of stepping outside the safety and acceptance of the Tower to be around strangers who just stare--

--well that was just fucking terrifying.

But Tony was blinking up at him with those big puppy dog eyes, hopeful and non judgmental and adoring and hell Bucky would do just about anything to make sure Tony was proud of him.

"I'll do it." he finally agreed, and Tony's blinding smile was almost worth the anxiety clawing at the back of his throat and making it hard to breathe. "Find me a job, Sam."

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

One week later Bucky was dressed in dark blue jeans and a lighter blue button up, shoulder length hair combed and pulled back into a neat bun, silver hand covered with a skin-tone glove and holding a letter of recommendation from Sam so he could maybe get hired at an auto body shop.

Mechanical work had seemed like a good choice-- he was more than strong enough to haul around the heavy things, his left hand fine tuned to nearly impossible measurements thanks to Tony's constant tinkering, and back before the war and Hydra Bucky had been real interested in mechanics and building things and the science of how it all went together.

Auto body shops didn't see a whole lot of customers either, and no one expected a mechanic to be overly charming, so there was that working in Bucky's favor too.

Still, his heart was in his throat and stomach in knots as he sat in the rudimentary waiting area of the shop and waited for the owner to come and give him an interview.

The cars inside were all classics, all in various states of restoration. One truck looked like it had been put through a crusher, another car was gleaming and gorgeous and obviously just there for an oil change or maybe new tires. The walls were lined with pictures of cars at different shows, pretty women and even shiny looking men draped over the hoods in various, ridiculously provocative poses.

The music felt a little bit familiar, some old jazz mixed with the sorta music Tony sometimes played and for whatever reason, that relaxed Bucky just the littlest bit. He could handle tinkering around on old cars and listening to semi familiar music. That -- that could be okay. Maybe this wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Maybe for once Sam was fucking right about something and getting a job would be alright.

"Mr. Barnes?" the girl at the front desk snapped her fingers at him and motioned him towards the office door. "Go on in."

Fuck fuck fuck. Just like that, any sense of being okay disappeared and Bucky was once again a nervous, knotted mess. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

He kept Tony's gorgeous smile firmly in his mind across the over long walk to the office, kept thinking how proud his favorite genius would be when Bucky came home with a job, thought about how he could take his fella out for a dinner date with that first paycheck and that would be really really good, so with one last deep breath--

--Bucky opened the door.

"Hey. My name's Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson told me to come by and see if you were hiring?"

"Is that so?" the chair behind the desk swiveled round and Bucky blinked in surprise when Tony grinned up at him. "Oh yeah, my first impression was right. You are definitely gonna have to sleep with the boss to get this job. We call those couch auditions, and I think you're going to do just swell."

"Couch auditions..." Bucky looked back out into the garage, then over again at Tony in confusion. "What is going on?”

"Did you really think I was going to put you through getting a job with people who don't know you, a boss that wouldn't have any idea where to start talking to you, and in a situation I couldn't at least somewhat monitor?"

Bucky made a helpless gesture, and Tony raised his eyebrows meaningfully. "Call me nosy or weirdly controlling or what have you, but Bucky bear, there's no way I was gonna tell you to just jump right into working. That's insane."

"But-- but you said it'd be a good idea."

"And it is a good idea." Tony came out from behind the desk and reached for Bucky's left hand, pushing away the glove so he could wind his fingers through the silver digits. "So you can work here. I own the place, this is where I do most of my remodels on my cars now that Bruce has taken over the lab. I take in custom jobs from a few friends, I keep a small staff and wouldn't you know it? There's room for a hunky ex soldier with the hottest scowl ever, too."

"You said we should get jobs outside the influence of Stark or Avengers." Bucky said quietly, still not quite believing what was happening.

"No, Sam said that and sometimes Sam sucks." Tony answered mildly. "Fact is, everyone wants Captain America to teach an art class, and Clint makes a great grocery guy. Bruce is the smartest guy in the world, so he should be doing lectures. Tasha is terrifying but she's trained in ballet so that job makes sense. Thor is literally a puppy, so the animal shelter works out. I should do the Stark Industries work because that's my last name on the board, and you?"

He tugged Bucky in for a careful kiss. "You should do something you enjoy and I know you enjoy working on my cars and listening to classic rock."

"This counts as a real job?" Bucky mumbled into another kiss and Tony teased, "I'll even cut you a super real paycheck. Minimum wage to start, but you got lots of potential, I can see you getting a raise no problem."

"Will I get a raise faster if I blow the boss?" Bucky finally managed a smile, and was rewarded with one of Tony's ear to ear grins in return. "Or ya know, bend him over th' hood of one of those fancy cars?"

"Both of those activities will earn you a hell of a raise." Tony promised with a laugh, but he sobered up to ask, "Is this okay? I don't want you to think I don't think you're capable of a real job or doing this on your own."

"I don't think that, sugar."

"Because really this is just me being over protective of you and maybe even a little selfish because now I get to watch you get all greasy and sweaty underneath a gorgeous car." Tony continued with a smile bordering on wicked. "And since getting to protect your big butt and watching you work on cars is, two of my favorite turn ons, obviously you can see why I set you up here."

"Obviously." Bucky gave in and gave Tony the real kiss the smaller brunette was obviously angling for, backing him up into the desk and shoving his hands into all that hair before kissing Tony absolutely stupid.

And once his favorite person was giggling and breathless and making a joke about giving Bucky a raise right then and there, Bucky leaned close and whispered, "Thank you, babydoll. Sure do love you."

"Love you too." Tony whispered back. "Now get out there in a tank top and do something sexy like lift an engine block with one hand."

"Oh sure thing, sweet thing."

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

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC!

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

@ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii @livewire28 @tulipsnbigcats @kimstark @alex-stark-rogers @bibbarnes @heeeyitskay @goindownshipping @ships-galore

#ncts fics #winteriron #tony stark #bucky barnes

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whumpbby · 4 years

Text

smells-like-ink-and-fire replied to your post “<p>Australian instinct not to touch octopuses is warring with the urge...”

Oh to see Bruce's reaction. I'm sensing a mild heart attack

Bruce certainly had a mild stroke.

He was just about ready to go back to his quarters for the night, filling out the last bits of paperwork, gathering his empty coffee mugs (Alfred always shook his head at B whenever the mugs started to pile up) and feeling every bot of his age... when the noise from the corridor drew his attention a moment before the door to his office burst open to reveal a red-faced intern begging Bruce to come down to the bay quick, please, you have to see this!!!

So, prepared for everything, Bruce followed the intern at a run, because the last time they’ve had this sort of commotion, the big holding tank was cracking and they needed to act fast.

However, when he stepped into the bay - a part of the centre open to the ocean, with a ramp leading into the water - he stopped and for a few good blinks didn’t know what he was looking at. There was Dick, because of course Dick was in the centre of whatever was happening, and there was Tim who was screaming something at him, and there were a dozen of the staff positioned away from the water, staring at Dick who was trying to haul a body up the ramp... a mer body. A excessively bleeding mer body.

And then Bruce’s brain decided to finally notice that what he thought was a trail of blood, was in fact the rest of the body of the creature - not a mer, not even close.

His first reaction wasn’t helpful at all.

“Dick, what the hell are you doing?!”

Wasn’t his proudest moment, that. Dick ignored it, thankfully.

“B, help me! He’s wounded and I need...!” He tripped and fell into the water along with the octomer, both slipping back down the ramp. “Fuck! Tim, come on, help me!”

“Don’t come near it!” Bruce ordered.

“B, come on! He’s hurt!”

God, that’s what he got for adopting the bright, friendly kid eighteen years ago - he couldn’t be the dad whose children brought home stray kittens or puppies, could he? No, his son brought them a goddamn eldritch beast.

“Leave it in the water,” Bruce spoke over the raising noise, toeing his shoes off and walking into the water. “We don’t know if it cans survive out of it. We’ll use floating stretchers to support it. Tim, get me the first aid box. Julia, send a message to Clark, we need his expertise!”

Together with Dick, they’ve hauled the octomer onto the floating frame until the creature was stable and they could look at the wound. It was surprisingly docile, probably due to blood loss, it was just staring ahead and twitching weakly when touched. And there was an octopus wound around its neck.

“What the hell? Is that...?”

“Yep,” Dick answered. “I’m about 99% sure it’s Robin. And call me crazy, but I am also pretty sure it was the one to bring the big guy here.”

“Why would it do that?”

“Dunno, but we’ve helped the little fella, right? It probably thought we can help the big one, too.”

That was quite crazy, yes, but Bruce’s closest friend had fins and a tail, so he wasn’t in a place to doubt possible intentions of an octopus. When it was all over, he was going to have a drink and a bit of a breakdown, because here he was, handling a damn cryptid that might have, or might have not, bee the one who saved his son’s life a few months ago...

The cryptid had to take priority. The wound on it’s side was deep and gory, as if something took a chunk out of it with its teeth. A shark? Possibly. Couldn’t have been a big one, the wound was too narrow. And a shark that small would be surely dealt with before it got a chance to attack...

Bruce carefully touched the octo’s mouth and pushed its lips apart to see two rows of nightmare-fuel teeth.

“What are you doing?” Dick was confused.

“Doesn’t look like a shark bite.” Bruce, always on the case, mused. “In-fighting?” Usual mer were omnivores, but they didn’t have a habit of taking chunks out of each other. However, if there was another octomer in the area...

“Territorial dispute, you think?”

“Maybe.”

By that time Tim had returned with the first aid kit and got to work at tending the wound. Tim was their first-aider when it came to mer, because his marine research partner was a reckless brat that tended to appear in the centre with a wound of some sort more often than not. Tim had experience with sewing up tails.

“This is so creepy,” the young man in question muttered while threading a needle. “The skin texture is... it feels like skin. If I faint, don’t let me drown.”

“Don’t worry Timmy.”

Of course, they didn’t forget that they were dealing with a wild and unpredictable creature. The octomer was strapped to the raft and Bruce had an eye on his movements, he also got two researchers to stand close by with tranq guns in case they were needed. He also had another technician film the whole encounter, because research. When Tim was sewing whatever he could of the wound, Bruce took some samples - a bit of a flesh hanging from the wound, a lock of hair, a saliva swab...

“B, really?”

“The more we know, the better prepared we’ll be when something goes wrong, Dick. How are the vitals?”

They really didn’t have a baseline for it, but the mammal-like mer weren’t that different from humans when it came to the basics, so they could only hope the octomer were similar in that respect - this one had nipples and a bellybutton, so the’re probably was a connection with mammals somewhere down its genetic tree...

“Heartbeat’s weak, but stable for now.” Dick recited with a worried frown. “We could try a transfusion, but...”

But they didn’t have a clue what kind of blood wouldn’t make the matters worse. Only after the samples were processed, they’ll know for sure. The octomer was somewhat conscious, because it kept shifting under their hands, the arms underwater were twisting around themselves inside of the net spun around them - either from pain or fear. Bruce considered sedation, but discarded the idea, as long as it moved they knew it was alive and not crashing.

Another tense half an hour passed with no one knowing what to actually do, but not wanting to leave the bay in case something happened. Bruce grilled Dick on the details of the situation that led them there while Tim worked quietly and the technicians took notes and the red-bellied octopus was swimming around them in a manner that could only be called fretful.

At a point Dick reached for it and it wound around his free hand. “It’s okay, kid, he’s going to be okay,” he spoke softly to the animal. “You did good bringing him here, he’ll get help.”

Bruce bit down on a smile tingling in the corners of his lips, because he loved his son with all he had and this was one of the reasons why. The boy was kind to every creature than needed it, regardless if it understood or not.

And he had a strange feeling that Robin somehow did understand.

#smells-like-ink-and-fire #headcanon #octo!jay

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mishasminion360 · 3 years

Text

We’ll All Float On

An It: Chapter 2 epilogue

Warning: Language; mentions of trauma and therapy; coming out of the closet; angst; fluff. You know what? Everything. It’s got everything.

A/N: I wrote this ages ago immediately after seeing the movie, but I’m just getting around to typing it up and posting it. The remaining members of the Losers Club deserve all the happinesses life can dish out. And in this house we ship Reddie!

Derry, Maine, 2017

Maybe coming back there wasn’t the best idea. After all, the last time they’d all gathered at that particular restaurant it had been a disaster, a God damned nightmare, and Mike had sworn to himself that he’d never eat Chinese food again. But as he gazed into the bubbling waters of the aquarium (this time tranquil and free of severed heads), his worries began to subside. And when the second of the Losers finally arrived his fears vanished completely.

“Jesus, isn’t there anywhere else to eat in this town?” Mike turned to see Bill Denbrough sling his jacket over the back of a chair and offering him a wide grin.

“Man, you grew up here, too, Bill. You should know that the answer to that question is a resounding ‘no’.”

The two men embraced with a hearty laugh, things already felt so much different than before.

***

Beverly gazed up at the glowing neon of the Jade of the Orient as Ben wrapped an arm tenderly around her waist.

“How does it feel to be back, Mr. Hanscom?” Bev asked, leaning into him.

“A lot better now that I’m not saddled with this overwhelming sense of dread weighing on my chest.”

Beverly circled both of her arms around Ben’s muscular torso which 28 years ago had not been so muscular. “Well, now the only thing resting on your chest is me.”

She hoisted herself up on her toes to lock her lips with his and Ben smiled into the kiss. “Easy now, Mrs. Hanscom,” he murmured. “Time and place. Time and place.”

“Get a room you two, before I lose my appetite.”

The lovebirds extricated themselves from each other’s arms to gape at the bespectacled man who’d approached them.

“Seriously, how the fuck is it that the two of you look even better than you did last year? And what the fuck am I doing wrong?”

“Beep beep, Richie!!!” Ben and Beverly cheered in unison as the pulled good ol’ Trashmouth Tozier into a bear hug.

“All right you two, lay off,” Richie laughed as he shrugged his way out of their embrace. “Don’t touch me, you don’t know where I’ve been.”

The three linked arms and strode to the front door of the restaurant like Dorothy, Scarecrow and the Tin Man sauntering down the yellow brick road.

“Alrighty, fellas,” Bev said, never afraid to take the lead. “Let’s do this thing.”

***

“Hello and welcome! How many in your…oh.”

The hostess trailed off as she took in the trip before her. Oh, she remembered these three, and the rest of their strange little gang as well. The last time the six of them had dined there they’d nearly destroyed their finest dining room. She didn’t need to open up a fortune cookie to know she’d be cleaning up more shattered dishes and splintered furniture that night.

“Right this way,” she said, clearing her throat. “The rest of your party is expecting you.”

Volleying quips and sharing in quiet giggles, Bev, Ben, and Richie followed the hostess as she procured their utensils and menus and led them to their seats.

“Where is your sick friend? The small man who is allergic to everything? I don’t believe he’s arrived yet.”

The trio immediately fell silent. She’d been referring, of course, to Eddie Kaspbrak. Bev would had to have been blind not to notice Richie’s face fall and his body sag with an unspoken sadness at the mere mention of their late friend. Reaching behind her without looking, she grasped Richie’s hand tightly in her own and her stiff shoulders relaxed when she felt him squeeze back in thanks.

“He’s, um,” Ben paused as a he searched for the right words. “He’s one of the reasons we’re here tonight.”

***

Mike and Bill were already engaged in an animated discussion about something or other and hadn’t even noticed the others approach. Ben gazed wistfully at the joyful pair, admiring their exuberance and allowing it to overtake him as well before removing the padded mallet from its place and offering it to Richie. “Care to do the honors?”

Bill and Mike’s conversation was abruptly silenced by the thunderous echo of a gong and Richie’s announcement.

“This meeting of the Losers Club has officially begun.”

And just like that all of the pieces fell into place. The little family was whole, as it would ever be, once more.

***

“Shit, Mike, you actually went to Florida?” Richie guffawed before taking a pull from his beer.

“Mm-hm,” he responded through a mouthful of lo mein.

“Fuck, why?”

“It’s like I told you when we were kids. It’s just a place I’d always wanted to see. Now I’ve seen it.

“And?”

The other five eyed Mike in anticipation of an exciting story, but he merely shrugged. “It’s about as magical as you’d expect.”

“Yeah, I told you you’d hate it,” Richie snickered.

“It wasn’t all bad. I did meet a nice gal in Jacksonville.” This was met with a chorus of juvenile “oohs” and a salacious whistle from Bill.

“What was she, like, 70?”

“Don’t be such a smart ass, Rich,” Mike chided, waiting until Richie once again had his lips poised at the edge of his glass of booze before finishing his sentence. “She was 80.”

The gang hooted as Trashmouth Tozier choked on his beverage. Bill clapped his coughing friend firmly on his back before lifting his own glass.

“If Richie here can keep it down, I’d like to propose a toast.” The others followed suit and hoisted their drinks in the air. “To those we lost. To Stan and Eddie.”

They smiled they’d all been wearing throughout the evening finally began to falter as silence engulfed the room. After a moment of quiet hesitation, Bev tapped her glass against Bill’s.

“To Stan,” she said with a grin that took all of her strength to muster.

“To Stan,” they all repeated before clinking glasses and taking a swig.

“To Eddie,” Ben cheered, and the others parroted with a little more pep. All but one.

“Rich? You okay, man?” Bill turned to his left to see the usually boisterous comedian staring stoically into his half poised glass, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he was searching the bottom of his beer for something he’d never be able to find.

“To Eddie,” he whispered at last, clinking his glass against all the others.

***

Though Florida had been a bit of a dud, Mike did find happiness traversing other states, even other countries. Thanks to a little help from Bev’s keen eye, Ben had just designed, and would be supervising construction for, a swanky new chain of hotels. Richie’s third Netflix special would be available to stream by the end of the week. Bill’s latest book had just been nominated for an award and talks had already begun regarding a big screen adaptation. And all that good news coincided with the birth of his first child, a son named Georgie.

It certainly seemed that none of them could be considered losers anymore.

***

Another blanket of uncomfortable silence settled upon them as the waitress plopped the plate of fortune cookies in the center of the table.

“Enjoy,” she chirped before adding in a whisper, “and my boss has insisted that I ask you lot to please refrain from destroying any furniture this time.” To that end she left them to partake in their potentially hazardous desert, and the group eyed the plate of novelty snacks with trepidation.

“Okay, who wants to be the first to crack one of these suckers open?” Richie asked. “By the way, not it.”

After another moment or two of hesitation, Mike finally reached for the plate. “I got you all into this mess last time, so I might as well start making up for it. Since Eddie can’t be with us, I’ll be this evening’s designated risk analyst.”

He cracked a cookie in two and, popping one half inside his mouth and discarding the other on the table, withdrew the small slip of paper.

No blood, no milky eyeballs, no critters from another hellscape of a world. The only thing inside these cookies were fortunes. Mike read his without a sound, and he could feel the others watching him intently.

“If that fucking thing says ‘guess’ or ‘Stanley’ or ‘could’ or ‘not’ or ‘cut’ or ‘it’, I swear to God I’m fucking gone.” Richie laughed but failed to hide his growing unease.

Mike grinned as he read the fortune again, this time out loud. “‘The world is big, but time is short.’”

“Well that’s much less terrifying,” Bill sighed. “I’ll take that as a cue to dig in.”

Bill devoured the cookie and then vocalized his fortune. “‘The ending is the most integral part of the journey’.”

“Would you look at that,” Richie guffawed, clapping Bill on the shoulder. “Even a shitty cookie has offer it’s two cents about your lousy endings.”

“Fuck you, Trashmouth. My last two novels have ended quite nicely, thank you very much. Just ask my Booker Prize nomination.”

“I’d rather ask the award itself when you win it.”

Bill rolled the slip of paper into a minuscule ball and flicked it aside. “If I win it.”

Richie shook his head. “When.”

Bill patted Richie’s hand as a sign of thanks. “You know, I’ve actually been thinking about taking a step back from all the doom and gloom thriller stuff to take a swing at writing children’s books.”

“You’re kidding!” Bev exclaimed with a bark of laughter.

“I’m serious. I kind of thought it would be a good way for Georgie and I to bond. I write a story, then we read it together. You know?”

Ben leaned back in his chair and snapped his cookie in half. “Bill that’s…wow. That’s quite a change. Good for you, man.”

“What does yours say, honey? Bev asked, eyeing the slip of paper between her husband’s fingers.

“Yeah, honey. What’s it say?” Richie leaned toward the two of them, batting his eyelashes dramatically and resting his chin in his hands as the pair flipped him off at the same time.

“It says ‘he who builds the dreams of others should not neglect his own’.”

“Well, that’s oddly specific,” Richie said matter-of-factly. “You know, because you’re an architect? You build things….yeah, I’ll shut up now.”

“First time for everything,” Ben grinned.

“I want to read mine next,” Bev chimed in, holding the small piece of paper primly between her fingers. “It says ‘the smallest changes make the biggest difference’.”

Mike rubbed his chin in thought, nodding his approval at the depth of Bev’s fortune. “Anyone want to wager a guess as to what it means?”

Richie snapped his fingers as his eyes lit up. “Well, by jove, I think I’ve got it, gents,” he exclaimed in an overblown, piss poor excuse for a British accent they hadn’t heard him use since they were kids. “I do believe it means that if our dear friend William here could slightly alter his crummy endings, some of his books might actually make for a halfway decent read.”

Bill glared at his wisecracking friend. “Tozier, if you make fun of my writing one more time, I swear to God-“

“Don’t blame me, man. It’s the cookies that have it out for you!”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with Bill’s books, Rich,” Ben smiled just as Bill smacked Richie in the back of his head.

“I think it means that something small can have a huge impact on your life,” Bev clarified. She scanned the faces of her companions to see if any were catching her drift.

“What, like, a new haircut?”

“Or a baby, Richie.” Ben’s eyes twinkled when he grinned.

“Right. Or like-wait, what?”

“Bev that’s….are you really….?” Mike stammered happily.

“Three weeks along,” she confirmed proudly. “You guys didn’t think it was a little weird that I’ve been drinking water this entire evening?”

Bill leapt from his chair and threw his arms around the expectant couple. “Ben! Bev! This is amazing news! Congratulations!”

“Yeah, congrats you two crazy kids,” Richie added before Mike inquired if they’d been considering names yet.

Bev leaned into her husband affectionately. “Well, of it’s a girl, Ben has graciously agreed to name her after my mother, Elfrida. We’d call her Frida for short.”

“Beautiful choice, Bev,” Mike praised, taising his glass and taking a celebratory sip. “And if it’s a boy?”

The Hanscom’s looked silently, almost nervously at each other before answering, some sort of unspoken agreement passing between the two of them as the rest of the Losers looked on.

“If it’s a boy,” Ben finally said, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d even been holding, “we’d like to name him Eddie. Edward Stanley Hanscom.”

Richie instantly felt a lump form in his throat, and he had to cast his eyes downward to ensure that no one could see the pain that burned behind them. He chewed his lip quietly as he struggled to reel his unraveling emotions back in. When he looked back up his eyes immediately found Beverly’s. She searched his face silently. Hopefully.

“He would have loved that,” Richie finally croaked. “They both would have.”

Mike and Bill were too choked up to speak, so they just adamantly nodded their agreement.

“Alright, I think I’ve had about as much sentimentality as I can take for one evening.” Ben turned to Richie and tossed him a fortune cookie. “Come on, funny man, make me laugh. What does yours say?”

Richie made a big manly show of crushing the cookie in his hand before extricating the fortune from the rubble of the snack, and as he read it to himself his face blanched.

“Oh, this should be good,” Mike snickered, noticing Richie’s sudden discomfort. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Rich.”

He felt a wave of nausea overtake him as he read and re-read the small segment of paper. The clown was dead, he knew that, but this fortune felt like another of his cruel tricks. Richie felt as if he were being mocked all over again.

Love doesn’t come only once.

“Rich?” Beverly asked softly, her gentle voice cutting through the harsh buzz of white noise in his ears. Nuh-uh. No way in hell was he reading this shit out loud. He didn’t have the stomach to explain it to them. Not yet. Not like this.

“I, uh, I guess my new special’s gonna bomb,” he coughed. “It says ‘a career change can set you on your true path’.”

The others eyed him skeptically and he feared they’d seen through his fib when Ben at last said, “it’s probably for the best, Rich. You’re not that funny anyway.”

Richie mouthed a silent “fuck you” and the tension dissolved into laughter.

***

The first to arrive, the leave. Mike stood and slipped his jacket from the back of the chair, shrugging into it as he said, “I don’t know about you folks, but jet lag and alcohol do not seem to be mixing well for me. Any of you care to continue the conversation back at the townhouse?”

“You read my mind,” Bill said, polishing off the dregs of his third beer before following Mike’s lead.

“Me, Ben, and the Lima bean here,” Bev said with a Pat of her stomach, “would be more than happy to take you up on that offer.”

“I’ll handle the check,” Bill said, already removing his wallet from his back pocket.

“Slow your roll there, Stephen King,” Ben said, reaching for his own wallet. “I’ve got this one. Really.”

“Let’s at least split it. I don’t feel right about you taking the whole thing.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Bev interjected. “I’ll pay it myself if it keeps this from turning into an all night debate.”

Bill turned to Richie, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Well, maybe mr. big shot comedian here would like to contribute.”

Richie still made not a move to stand. He simply sat and stared at the collection of dirty dishes littering the table, gazing so intently that he could potentially shatter one of the plates with a single thought.

“Yo, earth to Trashmouth. You okay, man?”

Richie licked his lips nervously; his mouth had gone inexplicably dry and he struggled to dislodge his voice from his throat.

“I’m not ready to, uh….guys we can’t leave yet.”

The tone had shifted once again and a far sense of dread took hold of each of the Losers. Bill tried to laugh through the unease. “You planning on spending the night here, Richie?”

“You guys, I came here tonight to say something and, God dammit, I’m gonna say it! I just need…just give me a sec.”

Richie Tozier spent so much of his time joking around that the rest of the gang often forget that he was even capable of being serious. He felt sadness and fear just like the rest of them, and it was clear at that moment that he was scared to death.

He was gripping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles paled. Beverly slid into the chair next to him and took one of his hands in her own. He was shaking terribly.

“Richie, what’s wrong?”

For what was probably the first time in his life, Richie couldn’t bring himself to start talking. Tell them, Tozier, he commanded himself. Just tell them. They’re your friends, man. They deserve the truth. You owe it to them, and to yourself. To Stan. To…Eddie.

“Sweetie, you’re scaring us,” Bev whispered. “Talk to us, Richie.”

“I’ve been seeing a therapist,” he finally blurted, the words tumbling out with the gust of a breath.

The others glanced from one another, unsure of how to respond, until Mike placed a comforting hand on Richie’s shoulder.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Rich. Shit, after everything we went through last year…” He trailed off as Richie shook his head fiercely, eyes screwed shut.

“I’m…um, I’m….gay.”

And just like that it was out. His “dirty little secret”. His painful truth laid bared before him for his friends, for the world to see.

“I’ve been having a really hard time accepting myself and….and processing all of these feelings. Especially after….after Eddie….” The rest of the words died on his tongue. He couldn’t bare to finish the sentence. It had been a year since he’d lost the only man he’d ever loved, but with each passing day the wound reopened. The pain was always fresh.

“Oh, Rich,” Bev cooed. She stroked his hair and pulled him close, already a loving mother in the making. “We know, honey.”

“You….what?”

“Richie, we know,” Bill confirmed. “We’ve always known, man.”

Richie could hardly believe his ears. Was it even possible for someone to be in so much pain but still find it possible to smile?

“Why the fuck didn’t any of you ever say anything?”

Ben slipped an arm around Bev’s shoulders and placed one of his strong but gentle hands over Richie’s. “Because we didn’t care, Rich. Who you loved didn’t matter to us. Because we loved you.”

“We still do. We’re your friends, Trashmouth,” Mike added. “We figured that, someday, you’d tell us when you were good and ready.”

Richie snatched his glasses from his face to rub his eyes as his vision went blurry. “I would have told you all a lot sooner, I think. But then we all left and….and we forgot. I forgot.”

Beverly laid her head against Richie’s shoulder. His trembling had only grown worse.

“Do you think….do you think that Eddie knew?”

“Eddie’s death hit us all pretty hard, Richie, but we could see how deeply it hurt you. Much more than any of us. We understand why now,” Bev soothed. “We all know how much you loved him, and we’re just so sorry that you’ve had to deal with all these feelings by yourself.”

He didn’t want to cry in front of them. Not again. But Richie had never been a good fighter, so the tears eventually won. Just like that day in the quarry one year ago, his friends held him as his body convulsed with harsh wracking sobs.

***

After his good healthy cry, Richie excused himself and snuck off the pay the check before either Bill or Ben had the chance to protest.

“So, I think Richie is definitely going to need another drink. How about I go grab a couple six packs and then meet you all back at the townhouse?” Bill offered.

The gang nodded their agreement as they all began filing out of the dining room and toward the front door. Suddenly, Richie came barreling past them back to the table.

“OhShitOhShitOhShitOhShit,” he chorused as he frantically snatched up as many napkins as he could that hadn’t already been soiled.

“What happened?” Ben inquired, quirking one perfect brow.

“I bumped into a guy at the register.”

“A guy?” asked Bev. “Someone you know?”

“Nope,” Richie responded, clutching two fistfuls of napkins. “And I literally bumped into him. Now he’s wearing his takeout as a suit.”

Richie rushed past them all again in a mad rush to clean up the mess he’d made.

Mike rolled his eyes. “Looks like Trashmouth has got quite a way with the fellas, doesn’t he?”

***

Cozy in the townhouse, they laughed some more, drank some more, and reminisced some more. They listened intently as Bill read aloud some of the rough passages he’d scribbled out for Georgie’s book. They helped Mike chart a course for his next adventure: a traditional backpacking trip across Europe. Richie offered to tag along if they could make a pit stop in Amsterdam for some weed.

As for Richie, the happily married Losers offered him some helpful advice for his next encounter with Don, whose number he’d been rewarded with after mopping up his spilled sweet and sour chicken. The very Don he’d promised himself to call when he returned home and felt good and ready to make a move. And Richie was starting to feel that “ready” may actually come sooner rather than later.

And as the week long visit neared it’s end, as their time together came to a close, the five collectively came to the realization that they were far from the losers that Derry had shaped them to be. But then again they never did feel like losers when they were all together.

#it ch 2 #the losers club #epilogue

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empoleon · 3 years

Text

dragon’s den

• rated t, oneshot, 2096 words

• also available to read here

The look of utter disappointment on Leon’s face was surprisingly enjoyable to Raihan. It wasn’t often that the former Champion of the Galar region would be denied entry somewhere.

Although, this wasn’t just somewhere—the Dragon’s Den of the Johto region was well known across the world, even in Galar, and especially in Hammerlocke.

“What do you mean I’m denied entry?” Leon asked the older gentleman who was guarding the entrance.

Raihan was finding it extremely difficult to keep a straight face while the guard continued to shoot down Leon’s demands to be allowed inside.

“I’m sorry, but only authorized members of the clan are allowed inside,” he said in a stern tone, before glancing over at Raihan. “He is allowed to enter, however—our Master would like to meet Galar’s tamer of dragons.”

Leon had the gall to pout. “I was the Champion, though. I can’t get any… I don’t know, special exceptions?”

“I’m afraid not,” the man said. “Master’s orders.”

Raihan hooked an arm around Leon’s shoulder. “’s alright, Lee. I’ll bring you back a souvenir or something,” he said casually. “Rotom here’ll take good pictures too, right Rotom?”

Before the smart device could even trill a reply, the guard settled his steely gaze upon Raihan once more.

“No pictures are allowed to be taken inside,” he explained. “The secrets held within the Dragon Holy Land would like to remain as such.”

Both Leon and Raihan share a glance between each other.

“I’ll be let out of there alive, right?” Raihan asked the old man after a moment. Leon’s lips quirked up after hearing that.

Raihan gave Leon his phone before following the guard towards the entrance to the cave.

“Please use Rotom’s GPS if you decide to take a stroll outside of Blackthorn,” Raihan told Leon one last time before he started to walk away.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leon dismissed Raihan’s concerns with a wave of his hand. “Have fun! I’ll stay away from the Ice Path… maybe check out Route 45 for a bit.”

“Alright,” Raihan nodded his head. He turned to look at the rugged opening before stepping inside.

It was a lot deeper on the inside than Raihan thought it was going to be.

The guard from earlier was standing near the edge of the lake inside the cave.

“The shrine is up ahead. You may proceed without me,” he said.

Raihan’s gaze focused on the small building within the distance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Poké Ball to toss into the air.

Flygon came out and immediately wanted to check out its surroundings, curious about this new place.

“C’mon then, Flygon,” Raihan held out a hand and his Pokémon hovered over towards him, bumping its snout against Raihan’s palm.

He climbed onto its back carefully and they took off, gliding across the lake that shimmered beneath them.

“Good to see you here, Raihan,” the Dragon Clan Master greeted him after Flygon landed.

“’Ello,” Raihan gave the old man a polite smile, internally sizing him up. Appearance wise, that was it—he looked like an ordinary older man, but Raihan knew better than to be fooled by his looks.

“Not surprised that I know your name?” the Master asked him. He motioned with a hand for Raihan to follow him into the shrine.

Raihan returned Flygon to its ball. “Well, I’m actually flattered you know my name, seeing as I’m one of the best—”

The old man’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Hammerlocke’s history is very rich, yes. We have been highly influenced by the training methods created there.”

He stopped at the shrine’s entrance and turned around to face Raihan.

“But that is not to say that Johto does not have an affluent past, either.”

He stepped to the side and allowed Raihan to enter. Surprisingly, he didn’t need to duck his head under the foyer—the shrine was quite spacious inside.

Other elders, Raihan presumed, were also inside, seated on mats.

“I would like to test you,” the Master turned and faced him. “Nothing severe or strenuous.”

Raihan blinked. “Sure. I only have Flygon here with me, though. ’Fraid I left the rest of my team with my partner.”

The Master chuckled. “No, no—not a battle. A test of your knowledge, and your character.”

“What are Pokémon to you?”

The Master’s voice echoed throughout the den and it took Raihan by surprise.

He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. How would Leon answer, he wondered. “Well, I would say that they are my friends. I cherish them and I’d do anything for them.”

“I see…” the Master nodded his head.

“What helps you to win battles?”

Raihan smiled. If it wasn’t too embarrassing to say aloud, he would certainly say that having a good rival can help.

“Strategies,” he said calmly. “I like to focus on different ways to battle.”

Another nod. So far so good.

“What kind of trainer do you wish to battle the most?”

For a somewhat small, damp cave, Raihan was fairly certain it was beginning to feel warm in here.

Obviously, his answer would be Leon. He can’t deny that.

(except that he should. now was not the time for fleeting thoughts about his significant other.)

“Eh, anyone, really,” Raihan rubbed the back of his neck. “I… I do have someone that I enjoy battling with a lot, but ultimately I’m interested in having Pokémon battles with anyone I meet.”

“What is most important for raising Pokémon?”

That was an easy one. “Love. Lots of love.”

The Master seemed pleased with his answer. “I have one more question for you.”

“Strong Pokémon. Weak Pokémon. Which is more important?”

What a peculiar question. Raihan wondered what Duraludon and Sandaconda were doing with Leon right now.

He raised his entire team from eggs—in a sense, they were weak at some point during his own journey, but…

“Both are equally important,” Raihan said after a moment. “Trainers should try to win with their favorites regardless of that.”

The Master stroked his beard. “I see… you care very deeply for Pokémon, Raihan. It’s quite commendable.”

“Thank you,” Raihan bowed his head.

When he looked back up, a Poké Ball was being held out for him to take.

“I would like you to have this as proof that I have recognized your skills as a dragon tamer,” the Master told him.

Raihan gingerly took the ball out of his hands and released what was inside. His jaw dropped.

“Alright, where is he?” Raihan held up a hand to block the sun while he scanned the area of Route 45.

After exiting the cave, he wanted nothing more than to spend a bit of time with Leon now before they had to leave Blackthorn.

He had neglected to tell Leon to also stay away from Dark Cave after hearing about how much of a nightmare it is to navigate, but he figured the former Champion wouldn’t have travelled too deep into this mountainous area to reach it.

Raihan carefully trudged through a snippet of long grass before spotting an all too familiar tan serpent slithering a few paces ahead.

“Oi, Sandaconda!” He called out for his Pokémon. The large serpent immediately froze and turned its head to look back at Raihan before starting to scurry towards him.

“I missed you too, fella,” Raihan smiled and knelt down to rub its neck pouch. “Where’s Lee gone off to?”

He followed the serpent’s gaze as Sandaconda turned back around and began to head over near a moderately shady area. There were a few Apricorn trees scattered throughout, and Leon was standing next to one of them.

“Let’s see…” he was staring up at the tree from what Raihan could tell—he could only make out Leon’s backside from where he stood.

“Hey, Leon!” Raihan may or may not have shouted his name extra loud, just so he could really hear him, even if he wasn’t that far away.

It was so worth it to watch the man jolt. A small bundle of Apricorns fell onto the ground and Leon quickly spun around to glare at Raihan.

“Not cool, mate. You’re making me drop precious cargo here,” he frowned.

It was a peculiar sight to behold—Leon had his t-shirt pulled out in an attempt to carry as many Apricorns as he possibly could.

“Uh, you want to define ‘precious cargo?’” Raihan walked over towards him. He took the opportunity to reach a hand out and poke at Leon’s exposed abdomen.

“Hey, quit it,” Leon squirmed at his touch. Raihan tried to tickle him the second time, and he laughed. “I mean it, I’m ticklish—Rai!”

Leon struggled to get away from him and almost tripped, but luckily Raihan was there to stop his fall and save the Apricorns he was carrying.

“Alright, alright,” Raihan carefully let go of his arm and glanced at the fruit in his shirt again. “Seriously though, are you tryin’ to become a Greedent or what?”

“No, I was thinking of using the Cram-o-matic back at the dojo once we leave,” he told him in a serious tone. “How’d things go at the Dragon’s Den?”

“Brilliant, actually,” Raihan grinned and reached a hand into his hoodie to pull out a Poké Ball. “I was even able to get you a souvenir!”

“No way,” Leon sounded skeptical. “I thought we weren’t allowed to bring any Pokémon back with us to Galar?”

“This one’s a special exception,” he said. “Come on now, are you going to take it or not?”

“Trade me,” Leon stepped closer and dumped the remaining bundle of Apricorns he had into Raihan’s hoodie—he wasn’t actually expecting Leon to do that, but he carefully held all of them regardless.

He took the Poké Ball and examined it closely. “Should I guess what’s in here?”

“I think you should let the little sweetheart out already,” Raihan told him. “You’re going to be pleasantly surprised, Lee. I promise.”

Leon tossed the ball into the air and, much to Raihan’s pleasure, he gasped.

“A Dratini? No way!” he stared in awe as the small dragon slithered towards him.

“Got her as a gift from the master himself. I passed a test of intelligence and—you aren’t even listening to me, are you?”

Leon was busy admiring Dratini, kneeling down with his hands outstretched for her to crawl into. He lifted her up and grinned.

“You are a beauty, aren’t you?” he cooed, before glancing up at Raihan. “Are you sure you want to give her to me?”

Raihan nodded his head. “Figured you might have been a little bummed about earlier, so…”

Leon was quick to stand back up and close the distance between him and Raihan.

“You’re the best, you know that?” He carefully wrapped one arm around Raihan’s neck, mindful of the Dratini in his other, who still seemed to be enjoying all the attention she’s getting, and pressed a kiss to Raihan’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Raihan wanted so badly to return the favor, but his arms were still full of those silly Apricorns. He settled for a kiss on Leon’s forehead instead.

“Anytime, love,” he smiled.

sometime later…

“Wait, wait—what do you mean I can’t bring these with me?”

The Magnet Train attendee stopped Leon from boarding the passenger car and pointed to his carry-on bag. “I’m sorry, Mr. Leon, but—”

“The Apricorns? Seriously?” his face was full of dismay.

Raihan poked his head out the train door to see what was holding him up and—

“Oh, for the love of Arceus this is absolutely—!”

Leon swore, quite loudly, at the exact same time the train whistle blew. Raihan was very grateful for that.

He was also grateful that the train attendee was so stunned by this small outburst that Raihan was able to grab Leon by his hand and quickly pull him on board.

“I warned you about this,” Raihan carefully shut the train door. “We should probably hide your bag, yeah?" he motioned for Leon to follow him. “You really gave that poor lass quite an earful, you know.”

“I spent a good hour picking all of these, they have no right trying to take them from me,” Leon was clutching his bag closely to his chest. He certainly wasn’t going to let anyone check it now, despite how blatantly obvious it was that something important was inside it.

Raihan shook his head and sighed. “Once again, I can’t believe I’m in love with a Greedent.”

This train ride was going to be a long one.

#pokemon #leon #raihan #truerivalshipping #fanfic #fic #texte #my writing #hello amigos today i give you this thing that has been half-finished for god knows how long #i'm serious i was talking about this fic on twt like... months ago i think LOL #i want raihan to go to johto so bad..... so very bad #but i finally worked out an ending so woohoo i'm posting it here too #i kinda feel a bit shy posting fics nowadays though..#i still want to work on the multichap one that's unfinished too but life has been ruff #so yeah anyway enough of me here hope ya enjoy this if you read it! thank you

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