#cus that’s what Jack was at his best and that’s why he works so well. he’s not an inhuman creature he’s not a monster made in a lab. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunkissed-zegras · 3 months

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✮ 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 3.8k

♡ ─ summary | when you and jack had parted ways, somehow you both knew you'd meet again somehow.

♡ ─ warnings | second chance romance!! slight angst (nothing too crazy), fluffy as fuck!!! jack being a cutie patootie, bsf x luke hughes cus why not???? mention of drinking/bars but that should be it.

♡ ─ taglist | | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe @bowen-power @ru-kru @jackhughesily @hearts-for-luke

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay, so this started off as sweeter than fiction fic but slowly turned into an invisible string fic, but its okay. they both slay and lowkey work well together!!

No matter how hard you tried to forget Jack, you never could.

The moment you both laid eyes on each other, each of you knew it was game over for everyone else. Everyone else was merely everybody else, and the other was just the one. From the first hello to the last goodbye, there was a connection neither of you could fathom.

Jack was more than just your first love or your first everything, he soon became the key to solving all your problems and the keeper of all your secrets. He was the funniest and kindest person you knew, no matter how long you'd been together. That never changed, even after you two parted ways.

It's been almost three years since you seperated but you can still how he made you feel, and all his favorite things: how he liked his coffee, what side of the bed he slept, his favorite soda and how to cheer him up. However, if someone had asked you where he was now, you couldn't tell them.

Well, not necessarily. You knew he plays some NHL team and he was doing what he's always loved, that's all you knew for sure. Some things never change, you guess.

Sometimes, you would wonder if he ever thought of you. Were you just a passing thought or a lasting memory? Did he remember everything or did he forget it? Those questions kept you up at night. But, at the end of the day, you realized that you were happy for him because he was out there, pursuing his dreams. Even if you weren't in those stands, wearing his jersey cheering him on, like he'd always promised.

──

"A hockey game?" You repeated, staring at your best friend Brie. She shook her head, a big smile on her face.

"My friend got tickets a few months ago but he got covid, so he gave them to me. And I knew you were a fan of hockey, so why not?" Brie explained as she leaned back into the couch.

"Not really-"

"Well you grew uo in Ontario so that makes you a hockey fan by association. You're going, end of discussion." Brie sighed exasperatedly, feigning annoyance as a smile enveloped your face. You had no choice now, you had to go.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Brie's determination. She always had a way of roping you into things, and this time was no exception. Despite your initial reluctance, the prospect of attending a hockey game stirred a sense of excitement within you.

A few days later, you found yourself growing curious about the experience. Memories of watching hockey matches with your family in Ontario flooded back, reminding you of the excitement that accompanied each game. One memory stuck out to you, you couldn't remember much but you do remember the warm feeling of his jacket and how your heart was beating- No, no. Focus on the now, Y/N. You reminded yourself as you forced yourself out of your head.

You navigate your way through the big arena and you both finally found your seats, settling in as the game was beginning. Settling into your seat, you let yourself soak in the atmosphere, the sights and sounds of the arena becoming a backdrop to your thoughts and emotions.

The players take to the ice and the game begins, you find yourself swept up in the thrill of the moment. The cheers of the crowd fill the air, each goal and save met with loud applause and excitement. You missed this.

"Y/N, look! That's the one I was telling you about, the one who followed me. Isn't he cute?" Brie spoke with a warm blush on her face, pointing out a number 43. You nodded, watching him glide.

He looked slightly familiar but you couldn't place it. "Wait... Is that why we're here, Brie?"

"What? No. What do you mean? What?" Brie's blush spread to her entire face as she let out a giggle, a telltale sign of her lying. You shook your head with a laugh, of course there was an ulterior motive to coming here.

She let out a sigh and then continued, "Okay fine. He invited me to the game, with free tickets. You wouldn't say no either, alright?"

"Yeah, free tickets are free tickets." You shrugged with another laugh. "Is he cute?"

"You'll see, he told me to come to the bar after the game."

"And I have to come?" You sighed, leading back into the uncomfortable seat of the stands.

"Don't sound too excited, Y/N." She teased as you rolled your eyes playfully. "He has a cute brother and I heard the captain is hot, so... you won't be third wheeling entirely."

"Okay, fine. But what if they aren't cute?"

"This is hockey, babe, there is a very low chance of that happening." Brie said with a big grin as you laughed. That was true, they all happened to be very cute.

With each passing minute, the anticipation grew, fueled by the idea of meeting Brie's acquaintance and his friends. Despite your initial hesitation, there was an undeniable curiosity about what the night held in store.

As the final buzzer sounded and the game drew to a close with another win for the Devils, you found yourself caught between anxious anticipation and excitement. The promise of a post-game gathering lingered in the air, pulling you into its orbit with a magnetic force you couldn't resist.

Brie quickly took you out of your trance, grabbing your hand to rush to the bar. As you entered the busy bar, the atmosphere was electric, pulsating with the excitement of post-game celebration. The air was thick with the scent of beer and sweat as you nervously walked beside Brie to find her friend.

She pulled your sleeve and pointed to a curly-head in the distance before whispering, "That's him."

"Whoa, he's tall."

"I know." She whispered back dreamily as she stared before walking towards him, a confident smile on her face whilst you followed her.

He turned around and your eyes widened. He was familiar, you knew exactly who he was. Luke Hughes, Jack's little brother. Instant regret hit you as you hoped and prayed he wouldn't remember you.

Thankfully, he looked right at Brie with a huge grin. "Oh, hey. Glad you could make it."

He leaned in for a hug and your eyebrows rose, they were already on hugging terms? As they pulled apart, his gaze moved to you and his features changed into a knowing one. You plastered on the best smile you could and silently prayed he didn't remember you.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

But that wasn't Luke's voice, you turned your head to the side to see him. "Jack?"

As the name escaped his lips, your heart skipped a beat, the world around you seeming to slow to a crawl. Time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, the familiarity of his gaze stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you. His blue eyes boring into yours, your heart racing.

In that moment, the weight of the past crashed over you like a tidal wave, memories flooding back with clarity. The sound of his smooth voice, the warmth of his sweet gaze—it was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were transported back to a time when the world was simpler, when your love felt like an unbreakable bond.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes to only the two of you. Memories of your shared past flooded back, the laughter, the tears, the love that had once bound you together, all laid bare in the space between you.

Jack's expression softened, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in your features. It was as if time itself had stood still, freezing this moment in eternity, the echoes of your past reverberating through the air like a haunting melody.

"Jack, buddy, you're about to spill the drinks." Luke's voice drew both of you out of your trance and back into the present moment and out of your head.

"Yeah, um, sorry. Here." Jack nodded to his brother and handed him the beer as you stared back at him, a troubled expression plastered on your face.

As Jack handed the beer to Luke, the brief interlude allowed a moment of reflection from the intensity of the small exchange. The tension lingered between you, a reminder of the emotions simmering under the surface.

You struggled to find the words to break the silence, the weight of your past weighing heavy on your heart. Each passing moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the air thick with anticipation and uncertainty.

Finally, Jack turned back to you, his gaze searching, as if looking for answers to questions left unasked. The troubled expression on your face mirrored the emotions swirling in you, a storm of conflicting feelings that threatened to engulf you both.

"I... It's been a while," Jack began, his voice hesitant, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread.

"Yeah, it has," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The memories of your shared past lingered like a ghost, haunting the space between you with their silent presence.

Luke looked a Brie with a knowing look, taking her hand warmly and glancing between you and Jack. "I think me and Brie are gonna get some drinks, we'll be right back."

Before anyone could reject, Luke pulled away your best friend to the bar and she turned around with a sympathetic smile and a shrug. You cursed the younger Hughes as you sighed. Now you have to face Jack alone, without the comfort of your best friend.

You and Jack once again found each other's gaze, staring into each other's eyes with warmth and recognition. His eyes were still as blue as you left them but he looked more mature, facial hair growing on his chin and his hair a little longer but you thought it suited him. But he still has the boyish charm to him, the thing that made you fall for him in the first place. His mouth curved up into a small smile as he watched you observe him.

"How've you been?" His voice echoed and that was another that hadn't changed. You had forgotten his voice on the course of the couple years of separation, you forgot how sweet and smooth it was.

"I've been..." You trailed off, not knowing what to exactly. "I've been good. You?" You settled for a simple answer, not knowing exactly where you stood yet.

"Can't complain." He responded with a shrug, take a sip of his beer. Silence once again filled the space between you as you gazed at each other.

In the absence of words, your gaze held a conversation of its own. The warmth and recognition in Jack's eyes mirrored the emotions swirling within you. For a moment, it was like you were seeing him for the first time again—his features bathed in the soft glow of recognition, his smile warm in the rest of world's darkness. The years had etched lines of experience onto his face, sculpting the contours of his features into something familiar yet different.

And yet, beneath the surface, there remained a sense of familiarity—a connection that defied the time itself and the hurts of the past. It was a reminder of the depth of your shared history, the moments that had shaped you into the people you had become.

You couldn't help but wonder what thoughts raced through his mind, what memories stirred beneath the surface. Did he too feel the weight of the past, the pull of unfinished stories waiting to be told?

"You grew your hair out." He stated softly as he examined your new look. "It looks good."

"Looks like you did, too." You smiled softly and he let out a warm laugh, and it was infectious. The memories, rushed back into your mind at the happy sound and your stomach did a flip. Another thing that hadn't changed, the sweet sound of his laugh.

"Yeah, that's what hockey does to a guy." He explained, his eyes glowing beneath the warm light of bar.

You chuckled, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. "Guess it comes with the territory. You always did love the game."

Jack's gaze softened, a flicker of sentimentality in his eyes. "Yeah, some things just never change, I guess. Hockey's been a constant in my life and I don't think I'll ever stop."

The shared memories of watching games together, the thrill of victories, and the hurt of defeats lingered in the air, connecting you both in a shared history that time hadn't erased.

"I remember how you used to explain the rules to me, as if I was clueless," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Jack laughed, the sound a symphony of familiarity. "Hey, but you caught on quick. Besides, it was a good excuse to spend time together."

The mention of spending time together cast a gentle shadow over the present moment, a reminder of the shared past that had once been the foundation of your connection. The complexities of life had woven a tapestry of experiences, leading you both on separate journeys, yet the threads of your history remained intertwined.

"But hey, the hair suits you," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. Despite the years that had passed, there was a sense of ease in the way you spoke to each other, as if no time had elapsed at all.

Before he could respond, you were suddenly pushed from the back and flew right into the arms. You were shocked and turned around to see a drunk man stumbling. Suddenly, Jack's arm twisted around your shoulder, a protective stance.

"Shit, sorry." He slurred before walking away into the crowd.

The sudden proximity between you sent a jolt of awareness coursing through your veins, the closeness igniting a spark of familiarity that lingered in the air like electricity.

As the chaos of the moment subsided, the realization of how close you two had been struck you with a sudden clarity, leaving your cheeks warm and your heart racing. You both stared into each other's eyes before Jack spoke softly. "Let's go somewhere quieter, yeah?"

With a nod of agreement, you instinctively reached for his hand, fingers intertwining in a silent pact as he led you through the crowd and out into the cool night air. The sounds of the bar faded into the distance, replaced by the soft murmur of the night.

He let go your hand, the cool night air hit the warm area that his hand once was. He gazed out into the night as you looked to the side of his face, a warm feeling filling your body in spite of it being cold outside.

"So, you play on the same team as Luke?" You spoke, breaking the silence between you two.

His lips curved into a smile as he nodded, "Yeah, isn't that funny? We always talked about playing together again but it's cool that we can actually do that now."

You couldn't help but marvel at the twist of fate that brought them together again. The bond between Jack and Luke was woven with shared memories and childhood dreams, all coming true.

"It's amazing how things come full circle," you remarked, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah and Quinn's finally got the captaincy, it's perfect." Jack continued. He looked happy and content with the way things were turning out with his career and his family, it made you happy seeing him happy. "What about you? Anything exciting?" He turned his attention to you, his blue eyes gazing into yours.

You smiled. "Not as much as you, definitely. But I'm about to graduate and get an apartment, all by myself up in New York. Found the perfect one yesterday and I'm driving up there to see it."

"Just like you always wanted, huh?" Jack's smile grew at that. He was comforted knowing that you hadn't changed too much and you were still same old you, despite how many years that had passed.

"Yeah, it's right in the middle of the city, with windows everywhere so I can watch the city move."

Like you had always wanted, Jack thought in his mind with a big smile. "So we are both chasing our dreams, then?"

"Yeah, something like that." You laughed and he joined along. The warmth of his laughter filled your lungs and you felt like you were out of breath just by laughing along with him. It was perfect. The laughter had died down and you both still were locked in gaze.

For a moment, it was as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the quiet intimacy of the night. The warmth of Jack's presence enveloped you like a comforting embrace, grounding you in the present moment amidst the chaos of the world.

His smile slowly dropped as he kept looking into your eyes. "Why'd we ever break up?"

The bluntness of the question had taken you aback. And you started thinking back to why you broke up. As you searched for an answer, the weight of the past pressed down upon you, a heavy burden that threatened to consume you whole. The reasons for your breakup lingered on the edges of your consciousness, fragments of half-forgotten truths waiting to be unearthed.

You were moving away to college and he was getting into the NHL, the only logical way to go about this about was to break up. Long distance wouldn't have worked and plus, you were both growing up and getting into new worlds, you didn't want him worrying about you while he was out there, pursuing his dreams.

But deep down, you knew that the choices you had made had led you to where you were now, standing face to face with the echoes of your past and the possibilities of the future. The memory of your break-up was clear in your mind, with all the anger and resentment both of you had in that one moment. But something you had said suddenly stuck out to you, "If we are meant to be, we will."

And we did. You thought to yourself as you stared into Jack's eyes. "We were both growing up and moving away, and I-I guess... I didn't wanna burden you."

Jack's expression softened. "Burden me?"

Silence filled the air once again but this time, you felt embarrassed. How could that have led to the break-up? It seems so small but it felt so big before, like it was the end of the world.

"Yeah," you admitted, your gaze dropping for a moment before meeting Jack's eyes again. "I was worried about holding you back, about becoming a distraction when you had this incredible opportunity in front of you. I thought breaking up was the right thing to do, to give you the freedom to chase your dreams without any restraints."

Jack's expression softened, his eyes reflecting understanding. "Y/N, you could never be a burden to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "We were in it together, remember?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," you whispered, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I... I wish things had been different."

He immediately shook his head and slowly took your hand. "Don't apologize. If things had been different you don't know how that would've worked out, but right now, everything that led us here is perfect." He said sternly as you nodded slowly.

With a nod of agreement, you allowed his words to seep into the depths of your heart, a gentle reminder that the journey you had embarked upon together with twists and turns but ultimately, it had led you to this moment and that was enough.

"I believe that too," you whispered, your voice tinged with hope and conviction. "Every step we took, every choice we made, brought us here, to this moment."

Jack's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored your own. "We found each other again for a reason, don't you think?"

You nodded softly as you gazed back at him, warmth filling your whole body. Before you could answer, you felt a buzz in your pocket and sighed. You were ripped away from this perfect moment and back to reality. You took your phone out and saw the caller ID: "Brie <3"

You answered it, "Hey, Brie."

"Hey, so where are you? I just remembered I have a 9am lecture tomorrow."

You sighed before shaking your head. Brie and her bad memory, "I'm, uh, outside."

"Great, I'll meet you at the car. We have a lot to debrief tonight."

"Oh yeah, a whole lot." You laughed as you stared back at Jack's face with a warm smile. "'Kay, love you."

"Love you."

She hung up and you were met with Jack's gaze, pulled back into the moment. Again, there was silence before you spoke up. "Well, I gotta go."

"I figured." Jack spoke as a smile curved his mouth.

"I'll... see you, then?" Your voice came out in a quiet whisper as he nodded.

You turned around and started walking before you stopped. You couldn't leave without anything, right? It wouldn't be right. You turned around swiftly with a warm smile. "Umm... when can I see you?"

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a flicker of excitement dancing in their depths. For a moment, he seemed taken aback by your sudden boldness, but a smile quickly spread across his face, warming the space between you.

Jack's eyes lit up at your question, a genuine smile playing on his lips. "How about tomorrow? We could grab coffee or something, catch up properly."

Your heart skipped a beat at his suggestion, the prospect of spending more time with him filling you with a sense of anticipation and joy. The thought of reconnecting with Jack, of rediscovering the depths of your bond, ignited a spark of hope within your soul.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you exchanged details and finalized the plans, the air buzzed with anticipation. The promise of tomorrow held the potential for new beginnings, a chance to explore the rekindled connection between you and Jack.

As you parted ways, each step carrying you closer to the promise of tomorrow, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the chance to rewrite the narrative of your story, to carve out a future filled with forgiveness and the prospect unfulfilled promises you once made, coming true.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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i-am-tiny-sun · 1 year

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the way i struggled to write this bc i’m a stickler for accuracy and college—

Categories: ☁️ (fluff!); 🫧 (new work!); 🍡 (gn! reader); 🎨 (corresponding fan art towards the end!)

Tw: I’m praying for y’all’s teeth and dental bills after y’all read this fluffy sweetness

“Pick one.”

Two mugs. One pink, one white, both equally tiny. The pink mug had a small decal on one side of a squirrel running through some trees, on the other side was the text “a scurry of squirrels”. The white mug had a lion decal, the text “my little lion” had a home on the other side. Leona covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle his budding laughter.

But you heard that snicker!

“What?”

“This is what you woke me up for?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. His tail swayed idly while he eyed you, as if expecting a further explanation for why you wanted him to pick one of the mugs. He really just wanted you to lay with him and rub his head…maybe his ears too, but he wouldn’t dare confess that he wants you to rub them.

“Act like I woke you up to dig trenches, why don’t ya? Just pick one!”

You should have known better than to think Leona wouldn’t be a grouch for at least five minutes! Sure, it was the weekend, barely anybody was alive at this hour (save for Jack and maybe Jamil, who woke up earlier than this). You could somewhat understand his reluctance to join the land of the living.

Well, despite the fact that he was about as welcoming as a grizzly bear with a chainsaw upon first meeting, his grumpiness was one of the many things you loved and accepted about him. He’d never admit it to you, and you’d never tell him that you knew, but he was a sweetheart deep down. In his own way, at least.

“Fine, I’ll bite. But you have to lay down with me afterwards.”

“Deal!”

That was the only deal you were willing to make. You really hoped Azul wasn’t nearby, but he also wasn’t anything like Rook. You were probably safe.

It was very fitting that Leona chose the one with the lion on it. It was so tiny in his hands, and you had to do your best to refrain from voicing how cute you thought it was. It was almost concerning how much you wanted to squeeze him. Not waiting for him to say anything else, forbid he change his mind, you took his other hand and dragged him into the empty lounge and took out your kettle.

Leona watched you flit around gathering your tea collection, plugging in the kettle after filling it with water and letting it heat up. Oh look, now you’re having him pick a tea. Wanting to try something new, he pointed to the sweet smelling pink tin that had white flowers painted on it.

“Try that one.”

He’d picked the chamomile tea infused with vanilla and honey. This would probably make him sleep longer afterwards, but you were just glad he was cooperative this time. You took out two teabags, placing one in each mug to save time. The water boiled to a good temperature, you flipped the switch on the kettle to shut it off.

You both waited for the tea to steep, but Leona noticed how you were looking at him. He would wait to tease you about it though. You couldn’t get over how much smaller the mug was than his hands, how he stared at it with utmost focus. It looked like he was trying to keep it from turning into sand. He could pretend to be as bored, grouchy, and reluctant as he wanted but you knew he cared deep down. You went through the effort of spending time with him, albeit earlier than his preference. He hadn’t activated his signature spell, so you figured he shouldn’t have to worry about it.

Lions couldn’t purr, but you swore you heard him make an eerily similar sound when you rubbed his ears. At least he didn’t have to ask you for it.

The tea was done steeping and was at an acceptable, tolerable temperature. A comfortable silence befell you both as you enjoyed your tea, budding sunlight painting his flesh in gold petals like it was meant for him. Like he was their sunflower. You’d have to introduce him to sunflower tea one day. Leona eyed your mug, the cute little squirrel decal reminding him of you. He couldn’t help but tease you at least a little bit.

“You really are an herbivore.”

“You will never let that go, will you? Even though we both know squirrels are opportunistic omnivores?”

Leona shrugged, this time a genuine, soft smile forming on his face. He’d never show this to anyone else.

“Nah. You’re my herbivore. I will hold onto this forever. By the way, Floyd’s been rubbing off on you too much.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You looked like you wanted to squeeze me.”

A sneeze startled Jade from his slumber.

“Bless you.”

Floyd rubbed his nose and shook his head.

“Thanks…I think someone’s talkin’ about me. It’s probably Shrimpy!”

A/N: well, he supposed he could indulge you for a few minutes…just lay down with him afterwards

#🫧: new work!#☁️: fluff!#🍡: for all readers!#🎨: tiny’s doodles #twst fanart #twst fluff #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar fluff #i had SO much fun writing this even though it took forever 🥹#no like school was attacking me so much that i was basically forced to abandon ship for awhile #but it’s okay i swam to the ocean and dragged the ship out so here we go 🙏🙏🙏#yes i gave reader a tea collection #low key was worried about how his fan art turned out #nope still worried about how it turned out 😞#i’m sorry for another freckly boi but look me in the face and tell meeeee some of the twst characters wouldn’t look cute with them #(i might be projecting since i have SOME freckles)#leona kingscholar fanart

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a-hypnos-v · 2 years

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Re-imagining of Creepypasta AU/Concept idea.

So! So! Thanks for reading- and I’m not as well-versed in creepypasta lore as I once was, but! I’ve got an idea, sure it might’ve already been done but: might as well get the idea out there.

So: a bunch of the og characters (Tobi, Jeff, Clockwork, Jack, Ben etc) and instead of…becoming murders? They get caught and sent to a sanatorium/therapy institute for teens since their not of age of criminal responsibility (I don’t know much about that stuff, sorry) and they’re all less edgy in this version I guess, re-writes of the og backstories, less bat-shit insane I guess?

They all need to spend time with each other (unwillingly) and stuff for therapy and socializing reasons when (probably) Tobi/Jack, starts trauma-dumping about all the weird slender-man shit they saw. And in this au, everyone has ties to slender. And they go on this huge paranormal conspiracy since they all went insane and killed (almost) all their family (I’ll get into that maybe another time) they were basically being semi-possessed by slender after kind encountering him in the woods.

also a bunch of other stuff I’m brainstorming as I write this: The institution they go to is one of the actually good ones instead of the crappy abusive ones. Lou, Jeff’s brother survives but doesn’t become a murderer or targeted by slender man, just has some issues with the whole “my brother tried to murder me in my sleep” but he still really cares about him.

X-virus is in this, him and Tobi meet after the authorities find out that that… well they’re basically the only family each other has anymore. Cody isn’t a murderer, and is actually sane, just has psychopathy and empathy issues to work out. His dad died in a weird lab accident and he got injured during it: and he’s also the science/maths guy of the group, like the idea, got no idea how to execute it.

Jack had a girlfriend relationship thing going on, the girl and him got caught up in a cult. He looks normal at the start of the story, also he has glasses- not really that important but the side effects of the cult stuff they did make his eyes fill up with dried blood and turn black, turn his skin blue takes place after the paranormal investigation stuff. Jeff is a severe insomniac and Somniphobic, this happens after re-accruing slender man encounters, I mean it is fucking CONSTANT, slendy’s been stalking the poor fuck since he’s been a kid. when slender can’t reach him in real life he haunts his dreams. Came up with this from the “Go to sleep” motif.

Sally is also here, she kept getting bullied by kids in other institutions so she got sent here to avoid that. Ya know cus, why would teenagers with issues even target a trauma-ridden 7 year old? Like non of them have p#dophilic issues so it was seen as the best option, also she’s not affected by all the slender man hocus pocus. I want Ben to be in this but I have no idea how to do that- also I’m not sure if I should make the proxies (masky, hoodie) part of the group or ‘traitors’ or something. Or maybe their the doctors??? Since their adults??? I thiiink?

also Jane is only lightly mentioned, she”s like a re-accruing mentioned character no one sees, just a random ex of Jeff. Their backstories kinda clash so sorry about that. Also slender man and zalgo are kinda merged together in this version, mostly slender man but there’s a bit of zalgo mixed in for flavor.

Where did all these ideas come from? No idea! Feel free to tell me what you think trough comments, or reblogs! Not sure if I’d be able to write all of this but if any of you want to: go ahead and chat me up!

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leslie-lyman · 2 years

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Also like i get that its supposed to be campy, but like the uhhhhh way Jack dies is preposterous. I mean (for context) the way the bad guys died in the first movie was ridiculous but it was shot in a very fun and cinematic way, and in a manner that we were shown hints that would happen from the beginning of the plot, so we werent so taken back when the goofy death happens.

But uh. Eggsy just. Stuffs. A human man. A man like twice his size and skill level. Into a meat grinder. Even though the meat grinder was in connection to Poppy using it and not Jack. So why didnt Poppy get the stupid nonsende hamburger meat death.

Like this movie could have worked, but so much of it is stupid. Funny enough all of the Statesman plot and characters are the best part of the movie and the most fun and realistic.

Somehow the sequel to Kingsman made the cowboys the most relatable ones when they were trying to make them cliche for jokes.

Why wasnt this just a sequel about Eggsy going to America to help their organization as like, an international spy agency ambassador since his cocky disposition would better fit in with the americans. And not making it some weird hybrid where its about both agencies in a really messy storyline that doesn't make sense and not enough time is dedicated to either.

I mean id also like to rewrite an entierly new bad guy plot cus the golden circle drug stuff is so not engaging.

I just...need to sit down and literally re write the entire script apparently.

Also i am so sorry for going off twice in your inbox about Agent Whiskey twice in one day both with way too many paragraphs.

I just love him and wish he was treated the way we love and treat him. Also i reread your fic the other day, the name of it im forgetting at the moment but its Jack taking the reader there and back for her abortion and it was just so well written, I love the way you write him in that kind of scenario. So ive been inspired with your Jack lately.

Omg anon no apologies necessary!!! I am always down to talk about Jack (or any of the Pedro boys), so send me as many paragraphs as you like!! ❤️

As a fandom I think we all see the squandered potential of Jack and have made the fandom version of Whiskey into what he is because we know he could have been so much more (and even as squandered as Jack was Pedro still gave us such an amazing foundation to work with!). Fandom Jack is a great example of fanfic writers devoting time and energy to a character out of both love for the character and spite for the OG writers for all the wasted potential. 😂

#answered asks

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argylesweedstash · 3 years

Text

did you just call me baby

(ao3 link)

The first time it happens, it’s an accident. At least, Dean’s banking on Castiel thinking it’s an accident. And it is, really. Dean fell onto the war room floor covered in black goo with his arms around Cas. Sam and Jack leapt up from the table, moving away from the intricate spellwork that no longer needed their attention.

Cas stirred a little. He’d been out of it when Dean had found him - half-lucid and mostly disbelieving. He’d let Dean pull him up and sling his arm around his shoulders, but hadn’t said much. Only mumbled apologies and words that sounded a lot like, “I hope this is real.”

Jack was first on the floor next to them. “Cas?” he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips. Cas nodded and within seconds, his arms were full of his son.

Dean watched them, a smile playing on his lips. When they broke apart, Sam offered Castiel his arm. Cas had looked at it before taking it and being pulled into a hug by the taller man.

Dean removed himself from the floor and helped Jack up. When Sam released Cas, Dean stepped in front of him.

“It’s real,” Dean said, looking into Cas’s eyes.

Cas nodded. “Thank you for saving me, Dean.”

Dean finally closed the distance between them and pulled Cas into a bone crushing hug.

“I missed you, baby,” Dean muttered against Cas. When he realized that he’d said baby instead of buddy, he could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He removed himself from Cas and grinned sheepishly at the floor. There was a weird fluttering feeling in his chest. He wrote it off as the adrenaline that was still pumping through his veins.

Cas, for what it was worth, didn’t seem to notice the word. “I missed you, too, Dean.”

That was two weeks ago. Since then, Dean has been avoiding talking about it. Not just his slip, though, the things Cas had said to him before The Empty came and took him. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t feel the same way - he just didn’t know if he did or not. He likes Cas and he’s his best friend. He knows he likes spending time with him. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by how fond of his friend he is, but he doesn’t read too far into that.

Plus, things hadn’t changed between them. They still watched movies together in the Dean Cave a couple nights a week. Castiel would always come and join Dean in the garage when he was working on any of the cars they kept. Dean would greet him with a, “Good morning, Sunshine,” every morning from his place at the table. The only thing that had changed was that they didn’t have the end of the world looming over their heads. Honestly, this is the happiest he’s been in a long time. Getting Cas back meant that they’d tied up their loose ends and now they could relax. Of course Dean had never felt this happy, they’d never so resolutely saved the world like they did this time around.

Dean is sitting at the table, now, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. There were still monsters, there might still be a case somewhere. In the back of his head Dean knows he doesn’t really want to find a case. He’s been enjoying his time with Cas and Sam. He likes that the most pressing thing he has to worry about is whether or not the fridge is stocked. He knows Sam has been getting stir crazy, though. Maybe he’ll find a case and send Sam off, encourage him to get Eileen in on it.

The sound of footsteps draws Dean’s attention away from the laptop. Castiel pads into the room. He’s wearing one of Dean’s hand-me-down shirts, even though he hasvclothing of his own. Part of pulling Cas out of The Empty meant leaving his grace behind. Jack had been pretty clear - Cas’s grace was the reason Jack was unable to just pull him out. So, here Cas is, as human as Dean, wearing Dean’s shirt. A smile threatens to break on Dean’s face.

“What’re you up to?” Dean asks.

Cas turns to face him. Dean notices toothpaste stuck to the corner of Cas’s mouth, he must have just finished brushing his teeth.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Cas says. “I was going to make myself something. Are you hungry? I can make enough for two.”

Dean shakes his head. “Just ate,” he says. “You, uh -” He gestures vaguely at Cas’s mouth.

“I what?” Cas asks, tilting his head a little.

“Baby,” Dean starts as he gets up from his chair to walk over to Castiel. “You have some toothpaste. Right there.”

Cas stares at Dean, wide eyed. Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes and grabs a napkin from the table. He wipes at Castiel’s mouth before he crumples the napkin and walks it over to the trash. Cas watches his movements.

“What?” Dean asks when he notices Cas staring at him. It’s not that he minds, Cas just looks a little lost.

Cas just shakes his head and puts a smile on his face. “Nothing. Thank you, Dean. I didn’t realize.”

“It’s part of being human, man. No worries,” Dean says, depositing himself back in his chair. “You gonna eat in here?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says, finally moving from where he was stopped.

Dean nods in his direction before he pats the chair next to him, smiling up at his friend. He returns to his research as Cas busies himself in the kitchen.

Two days later, Sam is gone to go after a nest of vamps and Eileen’s place just happens to be on the way there. Dean isn’t quite sure why Sam hasn’t just asked her to move in. He’s pretty sure Sam had refrained before because Dean had been a wreck with Cas gone. It was probably better for Dean and Eileen’s relationship that she hadn’t seen him like that. But now, there was no reason for her not to be here. She was family, after all.

Dean knocks on Cas’s door, ending his stream of thoughts. Dean was kind of bored and he hadn’t taken Cas anywhere but the supermarket since they’d brought him back. And, come to think of it, Dean couldn’t remember the last time just he and Cas had gone out for drinks.

Cas answers the door already dressed. “Dean. I was actually coming to look for you.”

“Well, I found ya first,” Dean says, putting an easy smile on his face. “Was gonna see if you wanted to come grab a drink with me. Looks like you’re going somewhere, though.” He didn’t want to press, but where on earth could Cas be going? It wasn’t like he really knew anyone around here outside of Sam and Dean. And if someone they knew was in town, why hadn’t Dean heard of it?

The ends of Cas’s lips turn up slightly. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and beams at Castiel. “It’s a date, then. Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you at Baby.”

Cas nods at Dean’s retreating figure and mumbles, “It’s a date,” before shutting his door to walk to the car.

Dean meets him there a few minutes later. “Had to grab my keys,” he says, holding them up for Cas to see.

The drive to the bar passes in comfortable silence, Cas staring out the window at the passing buildings. Dean drums his fingers on his steering wheel. He glances to Cas a few times; he almost can’t believe Cas is really back. He’d been gone for two months. Dean had spent most of that time frantically reading through every lore book and the rest drinking until he couldn’t remember the pain. It had been Jack that finally suggested opening the rift and leaving Cas’s grace behind. Dean had been ready to go almost immediately.

Now that Castiel was back, Dean felt better than he had in years. A warm feeling had settled over him after they fell through the rift and it stayed around. Whenever he was with Cas he could only describe the we he felt as “content.” Like now, for example, he could drive all night like this and be pleased with the way he spent his evening.

They pull in and Dean holds the door to the bar open so Cas can walk through. “Grab us a table and I’ll get drinks,” he says, clapping his hand over his shoulder and walking past him to the bar.

He gets the bartender’s attention pretty quickly. “Hey, Lynn. Slow night?” he asks.

She rolls her eyes at him and pushes a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. “It’s a Wednesday, what do you expect?” She gives a little chuckle and leans against the bar. “Where’s your brother?”

“Sammy’s with his girlfriend. Won’t be back for a few days,” Dean says easily. “Left me alone with Cas over there.”

Lynn looks past him at Castiel, who is seated at a booth in the corner. He’s looking around the mostly empty bar, seemingly taking in the neon signs advertising different kinds of alcohol. He’s wearing one of Dean’s flannels, Dean realizes belatedly.

“He’s cute,” Lynn says. She turns her attention back to the man in front of her. “What can I get for you two?”

“Two beers,” he says. And then, as an afterthought, “And two shots of your top shelf whiskey.”

She grins. “Celebrating something?”

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Dean says. “He, uh.” He looks for the words. “Just got back from a work trip. Gone for a couple of months.” That sounds like a good cover.

“I bet he’s happy to be home,” Lynn says, setting the beers in front of Dean before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf behind her. “You seem happy that he’s back.”

It’s Dean’s turn to grin. “I’m freaking thrilled. Dude’s my best friend.”

Lynn slides the now filled shot glasses toward Dean. “Want a tray to carry all that?”

Dean doesn’t get to answer before she’s sliding a tray toward him. “You need a tray,” she says, putting the drinks onto it. “I know you were going to try to carry all this over there without one.”

Dean thanks her and slides the tray onto his left arm, steadying it with his right hand. He turns toward the booth Cas is in and flashes him a smile while he lifts the tray slightly, indicating the beverages.

“That my shirt?” he says when he gets to the table. He sets a beer and a shot down in front of Cas.

Cas looks down at the flannel and then back at Dean in a way Dean can only describe as bashful. “Yes. It must have gotten mixed in with my laundry. I can return it, if you want.”

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.” Dean picks his shot up and motions for Cas to do the same. “We’re celebrating, Cas.”

Cas picks up his shot and looks at Dean curiously. “What are we celebrating?”

“You’re back!”

Cas smiles warmly. “I am,” he nods. “Thanks to you.”

“Well, Sam and Jack helped,” Dean says, grinning.

“To humanity,” Cas says, raising the shot.

“To humanity,” Dean echos before taking the shot.

Cas makes a face after he downs his and raises his beer to his lips to chase the taste away.

“You’ve not had a drink since you got back,” Dean remarks, watching Cas take a few long drinks from the bottle.

“You haven’t either,” he replies.

Dean contemplates the statement. “Really?” He takes a sip of his beer. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

They both know that isn’t really true. Dean’s only been engaging in leisurely activities, he’s just not been drinking during them. He wonders for a moment why that might be. It’s probably because he doesn’t have any pain he needs to ignore, he thinks.

“Your tolerance is going to be shit.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m a cheap date.”

Dean looks at him for a moment before laughing. Cas gives him a genuine smile before returning to his beer.

Several beers later, Dean cuts himself off. Someone has to drive home and Cas is more than a little giggly on the bench across from him. He takes a sip of his third beer and gives Dean a measured look.

“What?” Dean asks, putting a soft smile on his face. “See something you like?”

“Yes,” Cas says.

Dean grins back at him. There’s a tug somewhere in his chest, but he ignores it. “Anything on your mind?”

Cas just looks at Dean, clearly deep in thought. “Not really, no.”

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “Want another?”

Cas’s beer is still half full. “Another what?”

“Another drink. Or another shot.”

“Another shot might be nice, actually.”

Dean smiles at him. “That’s my boy. I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the bar and waits for Lynn to walk over to him.

“Two more?” she asks.

“Just another shot,” Dean says. “I’m driving but huggy bear over there can have whatever he wants.”

Lynn shakes her head and pours another. “You two been together long? I haven’t seen him in here.”

Dean blinks back at her and then looks down at the shot. “Actually we, uh, we haven’t talked about… that. Being together.”

She frowns at Dean and he takes a breath. He hadn’t been avoiding it, really. He and Cas had just fallen back into their comfortable rhythm.

“He doesn’t know how you feel, does he?” Lynn asks. She looks a little sad now.

“I guess he doesn’t,” Dean says thoughtfully.

“You should tell him.”

Dean looks up at her.

“Not tonight, though. He should probably be sober.”

Dean nods and grabs the shot. “Thanks, Lynn.”

He sets the shot down across from Cas when he gets back to the table. “For you.”

Cas downs the shot as Dean settles back down across from him. “What were you two talking about?”

Dean stares at Cas. He knows he shouldn’t lie but if he says anything Cas may actually want to talk about his feelings and Dean isn’t ready for that. He doesn’t really have words and he’s not even sure he’s fully processed Cas’s confession yet. And, Lynn was probably right. Cas should be sober for that particular conversation.

“Sam,” Dean lies easily. “This is where we come for drinks. Neither of us have been by in a while.”

Cas accepts the lie and sips from his beer before starting a conversation about Jack and the prospect of weekly family dinners.

By the time Cas had finished his beer the shot he’d taken seems to hit him. “Dean.”

“Cas.”

“I’d like another shot.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can get it.”

Cas frowns at Dean before swinging his legs to the end of the booth to pull himself out. He pushes himself up on the table and wobbles a little before Dean is up and at his side, steadying him.

“When you don’t stand it hits you all at once,” Dean explains. He’s gripping Cas’s bicep and shoulder.

“I know how drinking works, Dean. I spend all my time with you.”

Dean chuckled low in his throat. “How about we get you home?”

“Can I drink there?”

Dean turns Cas to face him fully. “Hell yeah, you can.”

“You’ll be drinking, too?”

“Well, yeah. I won’t have to drive us anywhere. Can’t let you have all the fun.”

Dean walks Cas to the Impala and deposits him in the passenger’s seat. “I’ll be right back, baby. I have to pay the tab.”

Cas stares at Dean for a moment before opening and promptly closing his mouth.

“I’ll leave the door open in case you hurl. And I’ll get a bag from Lynn.”

Dean returns to see Cas has closed the door and is currently slumped against it, sleeping. He rolls his eyes and drives him home, careful to avoid the bumps on the road. When they get home, he shakes Cas awake.

“‘Morning, Sunshine.”

“It’s not morning, Dean,” Cas replies groggily.

“Nope,” Dean says, leaning over to pull Cas out of the car. “Let’s get you to your room.”

They make their way through the bunker slowly. Dean sits Cas down and gets him out of his shoes and, after a brief moment of hesitation, his jeans. Once he’s gotten Cas under the blankets, he gets a glass of water from the kitchen and a few tylenol from the bottle he has stashed in his room.

“Alright,” he says, setting everything down on Cas’s night stand. “Take the tylenol when you wake up. You’re probably going to be hungover. And drink some water, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” says the Cas sized lump under the covers.

“Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I’m right down the hall.”

Dean turns to leave but Cas makes a noise. Dean turns back around.

“Thank you for taking me out tonight, Dean. I had fun.”

Dean smiles. “I had fun, too. Get some sleep, baby.”

He flicks out Cas’s lights and reminds himself to stop calling Cas buddy. The dude loves him and Dean’s probably making it hurt or something. Plus, he’d accidentally called him baby when he’d first gotten back from The Empty. Dean’s probably sending him mixed signals. He shuts the door behind him and walks to his room; he knows he should probably figure out what to say to Cas. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure that meant poking at that warm, fluttery feeling that seemed to be permanently in his chest.

Sam returns from the hunt a week later. He assures Dean it was an easy hunt and that he and Eileen hadn’t needed any help. He also admits to spending a few days with Eileen after they’d taken out the nest.

“How is she, anyway?” Dean asks, handing a beer to Sam and setting one on the end table next to Cas. They’d been watching old western’s in the Dean Cave when Sam got home. Cas had wanted to spend the day watching movies and Dean had agreed on the condition that he got to pick the movie.

“She’s good. She misses you two,” Sam answers.

“Tell her to get her ass out here,” Dean says. “She’s family at this point, man. She should be here, anyway. It would make hunts easier.”

Sam shook his head, smiling. “That’s the first hunt I’ve been on since we beat Chuck. You still haven’t been out.”

“Hey, I’m keeping Cas company. He’s still newly human,” Dean argues.

“You could go hunt if you want, Dean. I’m capable of taking care of myself. I don’t mind,” Cas says from the couch. Dean looks over at him and shakes his head.

“Nah, you’ve been back less than a month. We gotta make sure you have your sea legs before I go anywhere, baby.”

The words left his mouth effortlessly. Sam and Cas just stared at him for a second before Sam coughed.

“It’s great seeing you guys but I’m going to go shower and pass out for a few hours,” he says before making a quick exit toward his room.

“Fine, Sammy. We didn’t want to hang out with you, anyway,” Dean shoots back before collapsing onto his side of the couch.

He hits play on the movie and settles in. He has his own bottle of beer pressed to his lips when Cas speaks.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?” he replies, lowering the bottle from his lips.

Cas is quiet for a moment. “Why do you keep calling me ‘baby’?” he asks carefully.

Dean stares back at him. “I only called you that once,” he says, on guard now. Had it slipped out again? He didn’t think it had but now he’s not so confident. He sets his beer bottle down.

“No, you’ve done it five times.” So, it had slipped out again. More than once. “You did just now before Sam left.”

Dean is silent, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t even realized it had come out. “I’m sorry,” he finally decides, lowering his gaze from Cas’s stare for a brief moment.

“I don’t mind it,” Cas says quietly. He’s looking somewhere to the left of Dean, his eyes occasionally flickering to Dean’s face. “I thought you were doing it on purpose, is all.”

Dean can’t seem to form a fully coherent thought. He knows he needs to say something - mention Cas’s confession, maybe. But he doesn’t have the words for that yet. Instead he says, “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want you to do it on purpose,” Cas says, looking down. Dean can see the beginnings of pink on the top of his ears. He’s overwhelmed with an ache somewhere in his chest.

Dean doesn’t know why, but he slides in close to Cas. He reaches his hand out and lifts his chin so their eyes meet. “Anything you want, baby,” he says, softly. The fluttering in his chest is more insistent now.

He hears Cas’s breath hitch. Cas closes and opens his eyes before saying. “Can I ask something?”

“Of course,” Dean says, his hand still resting on Cas’s chin.

“Will you kiss me?”

Before Dean registers what he’s doing, he nods and ducks his head in. The kiss is chaste and quick but Cas leans in and responds gently. When they break, there’s a soft smile on Cas’s face.

“Cas,” Dean says, moving his hand to Cas’s cheek. “I, uh. I need to talk to you about. About what you said. Before you… Ya know.”

“When I told you I loved you?” Cas supplies, his eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah,” Dean says, chuckling lightly. “I. I think I do, too. I just haven’t -”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean. You know that.”

Dean brings his mouth gently back to Cas’s and kisses him again. This time just a little longer, his other hand finding Cas’s waist.

“It was just so easy when you got back,” Dean says when he pulls away. He tries to find any string of words that expresses how he feels. “I didn’t think I needed to say anything but…”

Cas stares at Dean, encouraging him to keep going. Dean can feel his face heating up.

“Lynn asked how long we’d been together,” he says, lamely. “The bartender,” he adds.

“I didn’t get to meet her but I remember her name.”

Dean smiles at him and takes a breath before speaking. “And I told her we hadn’t talked about it. And she looked really sad. I realized I do need to say something.”

They’re silent for a moment and then Dean says. “Holy shit. That was a date.”

Cas looks confused. “You told me it was a date.”

“I did?”

“Yes. When I said yes to going with you, you said ‘it’s a date.’” Cas says.

Dean shakes his head. “It’s… It’s an expression, Cas,” he says. Then, “But, uh, that was a date. I think.”

“Dean. Did you want it to be a date?” Cas asks. His voice is lined with both patience and amusement.

Dean pauses for a minute before saying, “Yeah. That was our first date.” He leans in and presses another kiss to Cas’s mouth.

Cas kisses back and then pulls away a little. “Would you like to go on a second date?”

Dean makes a show of thinking. He hums lightly.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. I do,” he places a kiss on the side of Cas’s mouth before he drops his hand. “I, uh, I don’t really know what to say but… You can have me, if you want. You’re just going to have to work with me. I don’t really know what I’m doing here.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Cas says.

Dean places a kiss on Cas’s cheek before he turns back to the TV and starts the movie. Cas reaches across to grab his hand, intertwining their fingers in the space between them.

“Hey, baby?”

Cas’s head pops up in response to the pet name, there’s a faint smile on his lips. “Yes, Dean?”

“I love you.”

Cas beams at him before replying, “I love you, too.”

Dean turns his head back toward the TV but spends a better part of the rest of the movie sneaking glances at Cas. He indulges the warm feeling in his chest, even if he doesn’t quite have the words for everything yet.

#supernatural #destiel #destiel fanfic #spn #mine #bye this was inspired by a post I made because im a monster!#my writing #my fic

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datawyrms · 3 years

Text

Ghostly Mystery Tour

For Phic Fight 2021! dey’s lovely prompt c:

On Ao3

Maddie and Jack had fully prepared for their adventure into the Ghost Zone—or so they thought. The fuel on Specter Speeder had fizzled out about a mile in. They're stuck. At least, until Phantom comes by, offering help.

“I just don’t understand it Maddie, I swear I charged it just this morning!” Jack’s voice managed to be louder than his frantic jabbing at the fuel gauge in the enclosed space, the sickly green glow outside making him look ill instead of agitated.

“I’m sure you did honey, but we need to think of a plan.” Maddie was already trying to think of what they could use. They weren’t too far away from the portal home, with how quickly the Speeder ran out of power. They had plenty of gear and weaponry packed in for their research trip, but the Specter Speeder wasn’t powered with something they could just toss in a gas can and bring along. “Maybe we can hook some of the ropes to the floating land masses and tow it?”

“Oh! Great idea!” Jack brightened, shoving the previous problem aside, hands now occupied with measuring the distance of the nearby rocks. “The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get back to work!”

The problem about how safe it actually was to breathe in the air when in the realm of the dead had been accounted for, but if they had to waste the air tanks just to get back- well they wouldn’t get to have nearly the amount of time to actually explore on foot, let alone gathering samples. They could learn so much about the ectoplasmic terrors from the world they clawed out of, weaknesses they didn’t need to fear on Earth even! So to have their expedition, a trip that had been months in the making derailed like this in mere moments hurt. At least Jack could keep his eyes forward, his positive attitude the only thing keeping her from screaming from the absolute unfairness of it all. “Just run the best options past me before you open the hatch, okay darling?”

“You betcha!”

She was still going to enable the Fenton Child Safety Lock as a precaution, he could get a little over eager when he saw an opportunity. It was just a matter of what tools could be repurposed into a makeshift claw or skewer to actually keep hold of the rocks. What would be the smallest loss?

The sound of something hitting the roof of the speeder halted her thoughts, turning to look out of the windows, drawing up her hood in case they’d be fighting so soon. Even Jack had stopped with his mental calculations, pulling a weapon from under the seat. “Company already? Guess we’ll show em what for, eh honey?”

“Well it is the Ghost Zone, they’re probably braver here. Not that it’ll be any problem.” A little boasting could help keep morale up, even if the situation was less than ideal. Stranded with a ghost already trying to take advantage, typical.

“Well one little zap with this baby and it’ll scoot right on back!”

If the ghost could hear them, maybe it would be frightened off just by their voices. Whatever had hit them hadn’t shown itself near the window, or hit their vehicle again. It didn’t feel right. There might be no evidence for whatever it was lurking around, but sometimes you had to follow your intuition. Jack was inquisitive, but didn’t ask out loud as his wife stood to knock the ceiling herself.

“Sooo are we doing knock knock jokes, or do you need a tow?”

She should have known. Of all the ghosts, it would have to be the one that always managed to get her hackles up, pretending to be helpful so people trusted him. A ghost that even tried to have a human name to fit in, not that she’d ever call this thing ‘Danny’. It was an insult to her baby boy, quite frankly. “What are you up to now?”

“Asking you if you need this thing moved. Duh,” the ghost snorted, the metal clanking as he knocked it again. “Talking at you from the roof feels dumb, you gonna shoot if I go to the front?”

“Depends on what you do, ghost scum!” Jack had looked pensive for a moment, but spoke up quickly on spotting Maddie reaching for a notebook. He just had to give her time to think it over, and he was great at distractions.

“Is scum what you call all people who help you out, or am I just your favourite?” A white haired head appeared at the top of their window, looking down with an amused smirk at the pair. Still playing innocent when they were at a disadvantage.

“You’re a ghost ‘claiming’ to want to help.”

That earned a frown, though the ghost stopped half hiding to float in front of their stranded speeder. “Riiiight. Put it that way, whatever,” he paused, as if studying their faces. His green eyes lingered on the weapon, notably so even as he went back to jabbering. “I’ve got some stuff to do, but I can drag the s-that thing back to the portal. So?”

The hunters shared a glance, unsure how to handle it. Phantom liked to claim he liked humans and protecting them, but he was a ghost. There had to be something he wanted out of them in return. Or might get violent if refused in the wrong way. At least he shouldn’t be able to see the quickly scrawled message to Jack. ‘You play the doubtful one, I’ll pretend to trust him- it’ll underestimate us’

“As if, spooky! Jack Fenton doesn’t need any ghost��s help!”

The ghost bought the open hostility without a second thought, eyes rolling to a sky that wasn’t here. “Really? I heard tow trucks were expensive out of state! Can’t imagine the out of dimension costs.”

It was going to be difficult to stay civil when it would be so much easier to just demand the ghost stop playing around. “We’re listening. So what do you want?”

“Awwww Mads, we don’t need this punk’s help! He doesn’t even have toes!”

The passion Jack had put into his moping managed to baffle the ghost. “Wait, what? Of course I do! No, stop, why does that matter? I know tows and toes are different things! I’m not that bad of a student, sheesh.” He seemed quite thrown, which was good. If the ghost forgot what the plan had been he might just get lost.

“Yeah, and you don’t have either Phantom!” Her husband managed to keep from laughing, but the shake in his shoulders showed it was a near thing.

Phantom glanced down at the black wispy tail that made up his legs, muttering something. “Well okay I don’t right now, but I normally do!”

It was a bit fascinating that Jack had distracted the ghost from his goal so completely. They’d have to think about an invention that could replicate the effect. “Can we focus please? I already said I’d listen to what you wanted.”

“Oh! Right, sorry,” he coughed, a strangely human expression of embarrassment. “I don’t actually need anything? I just have some stuff to do so you’d need to wait a bit.”

Oh right. Sure, the most dangerous ghost in town wanted to help the ghost hunters that wanted to destroy him ‘just because’. Just wait here while he goes to get some friends to attack them! Honestly, did ghosts think they were stupid? “Then why not tell us when you’re done? We’re not moving very quickly.”

“Cus he wants to make us think we’re safe before WHAM! Outnumbered by cowardly ghosts!” Jack expressed her true feelings effortlessly. “Not that it’d help em!”

“No way, you think I’d leave you guys here where anyone can try something?” The ghost still seemed confused, eyebrows raised and arms crossed. “You guys are here to study or whatever anyway, right? So you can look around while I get my errands done. And you know, you don’t get attacked. Most of the little guys leave me alone.”

As if that was a surprise! A ghost of Phantom’s strength could destroy smaller and weaker entities without effort. Perhaps it was a subtle threat slipping through his mask of ‘helpful child’. The idea of going deeper into the Ghost Zone, completely at his mercy was...well absolutely idiotic. Even if they could probably overcome him...being able to still get some studies done would make it not a complete waste of a trip. “So you think it’s likely we’ll be attacked here, so close to the portal?”

“Yeah, by him!” Jack looked tempted to grab his weapon, but refrained. “So what if we say no, huh?”

“Then I guess you can float here? Up to you, I guess.”

It was strange, to see the cocky ghost a bit hesitant. Even if there was an obvious threat he wasn’t mentioning. “Well if you could pull the Speeder, you could take it even if we don’t want you to.”

“I think that’s called kidnapping.” Phantom’s cocky smirk returned “Which is weird, you’re not kids! Adultnapping? Nah, that sounds dumb.”

“Ah cut the innocent act, we’re not falling for it!”

“Hey, I said it’s up to you! Either you agree to come along and I get you back home, or I just leave you guys to do whatever you plan to do. Even if yes, I could totally just drag the ship anyway. I’m not, because I’m trying to help, remember?” A hint of frustration slid past the confidence at ‘remember’, but the ghost folding his arms behind his head as if kicking back to relax did defang most of the threat. “I don’t have all day here.”

“We don’t have all day either Phantom. We have family to get back to, and no idea how long you plan to be ‘on errands’.” Maddie pointed out, still unsure what they should do. Trusting him was stupid, but he had showed his hand. Refusal might be met with the same result anyway, but ‘agreeing’ might trick the ghost into thinking they fell for his ‘trustworthy’ act.

“Like an hour or two? Not too long.”

“Well I’d use my Fenton Stopwatch! So don’t think you can pretend it’s a shorter time than it is, ghost!”

“Yeah yeah, you do that D-Jack,” he stumbled over the ghost hunter’s name, but otherwise didn’t move from relaxing. “It’s not gonna kill you to trust me for a bit.”

Even though it very much could kill them. He really was a smug bit of ectoplasm, thinking he blended in with humans well enough to be considered one. “So only a few hours, and you won’t stop us from researching or taking samples? Or lead us to a trap?”

“If I wanted people to get threatened by ghosts, I could just take some days off. No trouble, cross my heart. I’d swear to die but I got the jump on that bit,” he snorted at his own joke, but otherwise left the family to consider.

It was just safer to say ‘yes’ so the ghost thought they were fools. It had nothing to do with wanting to salvage something out of this disaster of an expedition. “Yes. We’ll accept your help, this time.”

“And you aren’t getting any thanks until we’re home, got it?” Good, ghost hunter, bad ghost hunter. An easy enough trick. Even if she wished Jack was the ‘trusting’ one. Yelling would feel nice.

“Yeeeah, kinda expected that too. Rude.” The ghost only shrugged before flying up and out of sight. She half expected to hear the ghost grab the Speeder, but they only really noticed when they started moving. Moving very, very quickly.

She couldn’t help it, her curiosity tamped down some of the fear she should be feeling, pointing out interesting landmasses as they passed, Jack just as enthusiastic to discuss what caused them, if the ghost built them or they were simply generated when a ghost squirmed into existence. A great castle that seemed familiar, an island with some sort of skull as a decoration and thousands of doors. Most ghosts they only could get sparing glimpses at, even when carrying an entire vehicle the ghost boy was fast. Ridiculously so. She thought it was his small figure that contributed to how quickly the pest could move- how the ghost could just vanish out of range in moments. That most of the power behind his physical attacks came from the speed they were delivered with instead of raw strength. Clearly that was an incorrect hypothesis, moving this quickly and carrying so much extra weight without any real difficulty. They slowed near what seemed to be another castle, though it was much less foreboding looking then the other one.

That sinking dread returned after they landed. She had some landmarks, but this much distance would be a big ask to get back. That, and this castle seemed more...occupied, judging by some humanoid ghosts loitering near the gates. One even waved. To them, or the ghost carrying them?

“Okayyy so. Ground rules? Don’t shoot anyone. None of these guys even go through the portal, they’re not the fighting type. Other than that? Have fun, I guess?” He’d stopped floating, standing on the ground beside their stalled craft. He didn’t look as if preparing to fight, which is what she’d assumed the ghost meant by ‘errands’. So what was he up to?

“We won’t do anything if they don’t.” A lie, honestly, but the ghost nodded.

“Wait, what’s that stuff for?” White gloves pointed at the masks the ghost hunters were pulling from under the seats. “Like you can hear me, there’s air out here.”

“It might be safe for ghosts, but we aren’t ghosts.”

Phantom opened his mouth as if to protest before shutting it with a frown. Strange, it was hard to get him to shut up most of the time.

“Nice try, we’re not gonna choke on ghost air today, Phantom!” Jack chuckled, adjusting his mask before popping open the hatch.

“I wasn’t expecting you to- oh whatever. Just don’t embarrass me,” he sounded like a sulking kid, only glancing at them for a moment before kicking off the ground to fly closer to the castle. Off to fight whoever ‘owned’ this area, perhaps?

“Well look at that! Regular plants!” Jack shook her from her pondering, crouched over what looked like a tended to flower bed near the walls. “Well, ghost plants that aren’t trying to attack. Think we should sketch em for the kids?”

“Well Jazz has been more interested in ghosts lately, I suppose.” It was interesting, but she was more curious about the ghost meandering past the walls. They seemed docile, almost like people just walking and apparently talking with one another. Not attempting to fight for territory or resources. Perhaps they were just repeating the memories of their lives over and over? Yet none of them had reacted badly to Phantom zipping past either. A different breed of ghost, perhaps? Or ghosts often had ‘kings’ that kept the lesser ones from squabbling. The large brute of a ghost that stole the town had claimed to be a king of sorts, and this was another castle...but she didn’t want to test anything by getting their attention. They might only act savagely towards humans, being jealous of those still alive after all.

“Yeah, she has! Danno might not like em, but that goth chick he’s eyeing might like em too!” He was already sketching away, quickly getting the basics. He’d fill in the details from memory back home. “You want to try seeing if those ones talk? Not sure how the ghost kid thinks we could embarrass him, ha!”

“Oh he was probably just trying to insult us. He likes to pretend to be a teenager,” she waved that question away, double checking her weapon was easy to reach in case of an emergency. No reason to make their predicament worse by being unprepared. While still considering to go near those ghosts instead of safely observing from a distance. Jack’s enthusiasm was too infectious, really, but that’s how they made so many discoveries!

The ghosts didn’t object to her moving closer, but she kept off the busier paths to be safe. So many stalls of what seemed to be goods, clothing and paintings, rugs and nick knacks. Well, the ghosts didn’t need anything to live, so it would make sense for them to prioritize other items first, but the art was strange. What did the dead know of creativity? Were these all recreations of something found in life? No, some of the paintings had the green skies of the Ghost Zone, implying at least some ‘new’ thought. They were strange, very unlike the wild animals that often attacked the town, or the showy inhuman mimics that tried to claim world domination. They just looked like greener, more transparent people. Barely any of them even floated much. They’d need new categories, they broke too many rules that stayed true on Earth.

“Oh that’s a lovely shade of blue! I wish I could make something like it.” The voice echoed, but it wasn’t growling or mocking. In fact, the ghost woman who had paused beside the hunter was smiling warmly, despite the dead red eyes. “Are you just visiting for a bit?”

“We’re mostly stuck going wherever the ghost boy is taking us, our ship broke down,” Maddie struggled not to frown, her natural inclination to get away from the still potentially dangerous ghost strong with so many fights. She could tell it the truth, in a sense. Phantom was far more likely to be dangerous then this waif of a woman. How she could move in so many ruffles was baffling.

“Oh dear! Well if he’s any trouble you can let Dorthea know, she’s a caring ruler. A human helped her get her rightful throne back, so I’m sure she’d be happy to help!” The ghost tittered a little, as if expecting that to be obvious.

So the ghost did know she was human? Far more alarming was the idea some other human had been dragged this far from home, possibly trapped. Maybe this would turn into a rescue mission. Unless it was too late for them, a distinct possibility. “Oh really? How did that happen?”

“Oh I don’t really know the details, but it was a human that inspired our good Queen that she didn’t need to fear that tyrant and she could fight back. I wish I’d seen it!”

It was disquieting how human the ghost sounded, a friendly sort of gossip. If only she had a way to record it. “The human got back home after helping, right?”

“Well I assume so, she had no intentions of staying here very long, that’s for sure!” She laughed easily, apparently blind to Maddie’s confusion and apprehension, or just unable to see it past the mask and goggles. “I’m fairly sure Sir Phantom took her back, you could ask him.”

Sir? That town terrorizing scoundrel was respected around here? And had been taking humans out of the ghost zone? Probably because he made whoever it was get here in the first place, just to rescue them. Was that why he was here? To stage some new act with this ghost queen? “Right, I might do that.” Would she? This morning she hadn’t expected to talk to ghosts, let alone multiple.

“Oh! If you see any of those angry blobs you can just run back towards the guards and they’ll deal with it. It’s their job, and they’re quite good at it. I actually considered doing that job for a bit, but I like looking after the plants more. Maybe I’ll switch in a decade or two!” The ghost kept talking, apparently taking Maddie’s lack of further questions as permission to keep chattering.

“Can’t you deal with them yourself?” Attacking ghost blobs was something she knew about, and if this ghost was strong enough to mimic humans, shouldn’t it be able to deal with the much less sophisticated tactics of blobs?

“Me? Oh no, I’m not not trained. Do you still have lions on the other side? It would be like trying to fight one of those with a stick!” She laughed, but not unkindly.

“You’re both ghosts though, aren’t you?” Perhaps they differentiated themselves by name in the Ghost Zone? It would lend some evidence to the ‘different breeds’ of ghost hypothesis she was rapidly stringing together.

She tapped at her chin for a moment at the question. “I suppose we are, but they’re more like animals. They might have always been animals, or never alive at all! It’s perfectly safe here though, they usually fight more among themselves.”

Well that was fascinating. Some ghosts didn’t instinctively know how to fight and had to be taught? Yet didn’t consider themselves completely separated from the more animalistic ectoplasmic terrors. Perhaps the more ‘domestic’ setting here made the ghosts less feral and more reliant on their previous memories. Well, the ghost could be lying, but she couldn’t see the benefit she’d gain from deception here. “So you’re kind of stuck here then? We saw a lot of those outside of this place.”

“No no, we’ve got safer ways to travel than just flying around! Not all of us are that brave, dear. Though I don’t think I’d want to stay somewhere else very long anyway. Here it’s safe, all my friends are here and we have one of the largest markets in the whole Ghost Zone. Other ghosts come to us!” There was a hint of pride as she spoke about her ‘home’, gesturing over to some of the stalls Maddie hadn't had time to look at before getting interrupted. “I was really hoping to get something from the seven armed bloke over there, but he’s not very interested in my clothing. Maybe next time.”

Said ‘bloke’ had far too many eyes to go with the arms, and a collection of honestly terrifying little statues with strange designs that made her head hurt if she looked at it too long. A clear outsider to the more human ones, but not causing a stir. So much for constantly fighting out groups, but they barely had anything in common either! Not to mention engaging in some kind of simplistic trading. “So this happens often?”

“Pretty much. It’s fun to make new things, but you get bored of just your own stuff after a few centuries you know? So we swap and find new things.”

Well of course, it’s not like the ghosts needed to trade for something vital to existence. Swapping ‘things’ made more sense in that context. So why weren’t any trying to trade strength or favours? Or simply taking what they wanted? Was it related to having a queen? She had so many questions that knowing what ones needed to be asked was next to impossible. “I suppose you would. How can you tell if a ghost that comes is peaceful?”

“Asking!” She laughed again, apparently finding the question funny. So they didn’t deal with constant attacks from spectres like Phantom trying to ‘take over?’ Why?

“Oh geeze, I’m so sorry if she said anything about trying to-” Phantom’s voice interrupted her thoughts, the ghost suddenly floating beside the other ghost and sputtering.

“Sorry? She’s been perfectly lovely! Haven’t you- oh I’m so rude, I didn’t even get your name!” the ghost tisked at herself, once again strangely apologetic.

“Wait, she has?” His doubtful tone made the ghost hunter scowl. As if he had any room to judge them.

“We’re scientists, not uncontrollable monsters.” Like him. She was fairly sure he caught the implication when the boy muttered something she couldn’t hear.

“Cool. Anyway, got another stop, then I’ll get you two back home.” He still hovered, glancing between the two of them a few times. “Oh. Maddie, that’s her name.”

“Lovely speaking with you Maddie! Had a good trip back, I’m Guenivier if you’re ever in the area again,” she smiled and gave another wave before somehow drifting back into the crowd without displacing even a bit of that dress.

“Who said you can give out my name?” Maddie hissed, once certain the other ghost was out of earshot.

He leaned back on teenager mannerisms, scoffing and heading away. “Because she wanted to know and thinks you aren’t a total ghost hater? It’s not gonna hurt anything.”

“How can I know you don’t have a way to locate people by name?”

He was rolling his eyes again as if she was being ridiculous. “You live in a house with a giant glowing sign. Not exactly subtle.”

“That isn’t in the ghost zone.”

“It’s attached to the ghost zone, it totally counts.”

It really was like arguing with a teenager when he bantered on like this. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Yes ma’am. Sheesh.” He hopped on top of the speeder, kicking his heels against the side. “Hey Jack, you coming?”

“Coming!” he bellowed back, jogging over from the patch of plants she’d left him at. However, he wasn’t just carrying his notebook, but a folded glowing bit of cloth. Some sort of tapestry judging by all the stitching? “Just wanted to get a few more lines done-” he broke off after spotting his wife, apparently reminded that he shouldn’t be so chummy with the ghost. “I mean I leave when I want to, you can’t boss Fentons around!”

“Oh come onnn, can you pretend you don’t hate me for like five minutes? I’m not even doing anything!” Phantom complained, flopping backwards onto the Speeder. “You were totally having a good time”.

“How did you get that, dear?” Maddie chose to ignore their sulking captor and instead look at what Jack managed to gather besides sketches.

“Oh, one of the ghosties liked my pictures and asked to trade for one! So I gave em a page for this! We can study how they made it back home, neat huh?”

Apparently he hadn’t been too worried about it being a trap, but a picture he’d just sketched wasn’t a big ask for something that could teach them a lot about the ghosts in here, so it was a good trade nonetheless. “You did great sweetie. Just make sure to store it safely, just in case.”

“Already on it sweet cheeks!” He was indeed, already pulling out a large sample bag to store their find before opening the hatch again.

“Ew. I changed my mind, go back to threatening me. Sappy is worse.”

Well, at least the ghost regretted his actions a bit. He’d be more sorry if he tried anything, but this did just seem to be something to sooth that hero complex it had. So far, anyway. She was tempted to ask the ghost what it had been up to at the castle, but it didn’t really matter. He’d just lie anyway, he clearly wasn’t the same sort of ghost as the weaker ones back there.

“Ha, he crumples in the face of our love Madds!” Jack laughed, hugging his wife and they got comfortable back in the speeder. “You think he’d take us back home if I said how much I love ya?”

“I so don’t need to hear this.” He was muffled, apparently still flopped on the speeder. He didn’t add anything before the Speeder lifted from the ground and resumed speeding through the strange green expanse.

“Clearly he buys his own teenager delusion.” Maddie mused, content to rest against Jack and look through his sketches. “Did they seem strangely lifelike to you too?”

“Oh sure! They just talked and didn’t even seem interested in going to the human world! Even though one was very jealous of how bright my jumpsuit is.” He leaned a bit to flick a few pages forward. “I sketched a couple and got their names, so we can see if we can look em up. See if they’re similar to their old selves according to history and all.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t get a complete name, but apparently they have jobs? Not like the wilder ghosts, and they do have a queen…” she paused, remembering the ‘human’ Phantom apparently ‘helped home. “Hey! You did help someone home from the ghost zone before, did you?”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, she’s back safe. Wasn’t even a whole day.” He sounded distracted, or at least surprised by the question.

It could be a valuable lead. That, and the human might need help after such an experience. Who knew how ecto contaminated they might be! “Who was it?”

“How should I know? Just because I’m in town a lot doesn’t mean I know everyone’s name.”

She frowned, glancing at Jack who only shrugged. So he hadn’t heard that story, only her. “You know ours.”

“Because you shout them at me and shoot at me a lot? Pretty easy to remember!”

“Ghost kid’s got a point.” Jack admitted, patting her on the shoulder. “We’ll just find who it is ourselves! Just an extra project.”

“What, and just make their life weird again by bringing up ghost stuff? Leave em alone.”

Well now they absolutely had to look into it, if Phantom wasn’t keen on the idea. Better to let him think they agreed though. “True, it could just lead you back to them.”

“Hey! This is all you, not me!”

Jack chuckled. “You’re really good at riling him up. Almost sounds like our Danny like that, getting all touchy about fun family activities!”

“Well he probably copies behaviour from local teenagers,” she didn't like that comparison though. Their children were nothing like life destroying ghosts. It was better to turn her attention to the passing green and how the amount of doors seemed to dwindle as masses of ice started to become the most prominent detail. That made more sense, actually. Phantom had started using ice in addition to ectoblasts, if he came from somewhere with this sort of climate it seemed less out of place with his other abilities. Even if he was otherwise ill suited to snow and ice with how he insisted on looking like a kid.

The next stop felt more like a mistake, with only hills of untouched white powder and ice to see, but the crunch of snow below confirmed they were no longer moving. Good thing they came prepared with heated coats!

“Not a whole lot around here! If it wasn’t for all the green we could pretend we were in Alaska.” Jack chattered as he shrugged a coat on, still apparently too excited to look around to keep his suspicion up. “They don’t all like castles, or maybe it’s a hidden one!”

He better not be thinking Santa had an ice castle. That was probably what he was thinking of, but she didn’t really want to bring up their annual argument at the moment. He could be wrong today, there were more important things to do. “You do realize it’s a frozen wasteland you’ve stranded us on?”

“It’s not that cold.” Phantom objected, circling the Speeder idly.

“Easy for a ghost to say, you’re always cold ghost kid!”

He stopped at that, glancing back at Jack. “It's not that bad, is it?”

“Only because we brought warm clothing. Jumpsuits aren’t enough for the living.” Maddie huffed, looking at the snowfields to find anything worth looking at. The structures of ice were somewhat interesting, but not inherently ghostly.

“Well you guys can stay here, I guess.” The ghost bit at his lip, playing up the concern now that they pointed out a frozen wasteland was cold. Honestly, how did anyone fall for Phantom’s act if he made mistakes like this? “I don’t think Frostbite’s people come out this far…”

“Oh, are they dangerous? We can take any of your little ghostly pals!”

Phantom looked as if Jack suggested exploding a building. “No! Don’t fight any of them! They just look scary, okay? Just ignore them, if any show up.” He didn’t wait for a response before flying off this time, apparently in much more of a hurry this time.

“Sounds like he’s worried about what we can do to his little pals, huh?” Jack elbowed his wife with a grin. “Well, maybe we can find something weird about the ice here!”

It was better to try getting some of the ghost ice instead of doing nothing, though she doubted it would be very different from regular ice, beyond the ectocontamination. Now what would a ghost think is ‘scary looking’? He hadn’t given such a warning when close to all of the other ghosts, after all. It was a bit of a mystery, and none of the ice here had any identifying marks or hints of another odd little ghost ‘civilization’. ‘Frostbite’ wasn’t much of a name either, perhaps they were more like the wild sort that came to Amity?

“Oh hoh! Look at this!” Jack yelled out, pointing to something below him as he waved her over.

A large, clawed footprint left in the snow, and fairly deep. So something monstrous after all, as expected. “Maybe we can get a cast of it?” They had supplies for it, but she wasn’t certain if it would work in the ice correctly. The tracks didn’t go for long, but following them wasn’t a very tantalizing idea. Better to keep a distance and be well armed if they wanted to tangle with whatever left this. It wasn’t as distracting as the previous stop, but the sound of crunches increasing in volume had the couple back on edge and wary.

“Seriously, we should just go-”

It sounded like the ghost boy was near wherever the crunches were coming from, which didn’t improve her mood one iota.

“Nonsense! I have been asking to meet them for how long?” A deep, growling and carrying voice came in response as Maddie readied a weapon.

“Yeah, that’s the problem. You don’t want to, trust me.”

“Seems he doesn’t have a very high opinion of ghost hunters, eh Mads?” Jack was less noticeably readied, still half crouched near the footprint, but his hand hovered where a weapon was concealed. She focused on her breathing as the sound grew louder, eyes narrowed as she spotted a large figure cresting the nearby hill. With the little white haired ghost boy completely at ease near it. Nothing like his regular behaviour, let alone the talking. Why would this huge beast know of them?

“What did I say about not shooting people?” Phantom actually seemed to blush on seeing her holding the weapon, smacking his face. “Okay, you saw them, bye now!”

The large furred creature ignored how the smaller ghost pushed at their shoulder, instead waving with a horrific ice claw, bones gleaming from within as it seemed to rip at the very air. “Well our first meeting was hardly perfect either, I can manage.”

“Yeah but I can’t just pull a ‘won’t shoot a big yeti’ icicle out of their jumpsuits!”

For a human loving ghost, Phantom was certainly very concerned about this giant horned monster being harmed by ‘mere humans’. More proof of his act, at least. Though the large creature did have a cloak of some sort and clothing. He spoke well, if you ignored the fanged mouth and growls. A strange contradiction of appearance and intent. That wasn’t a normal thing for ghosts either, you could gather a decent amount about one by how they looked. So why was this one chatting and apparently interested in seeing two humans? “So, you’re the ‘Frostbite’ he mentioned?” She hazarded a guess, but wasn’t going to put the gun away.

It showed its fangs, maw wide and unnerving. “Yes, I am! It is an honour to meet you” The furry head bowed slightly, as if trying a sort of nod of respect. “Your work assisted the Great One in vanquishing Pariah Dark, we all owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Please don’t call me that. Especially in front of them!” the green eyed ghost practically squawked, somehow flushing even harder when he didn’t even have blood.

Maddie’s mind almost flipped over from the sheer confusion of what this terrifying ghost said. They had ‘helped’ vanquish something? More likely, Phantom had stolen something. So why did this ghost still give them credit? That wasn’t even starting to touch why the ghost boy would be considered great in any aspect. “Assisted him? Do you mean with that ghost who took our town into the Ghost Zone?” She wasn’t sure if that was what the ‘king’ ghost was called, but it made more sense than anything else she could think of.

“Indeed. The King of All Ghosts would have sent the infinite realms into chaos and conflict. Of course we are grateful for your help in preventing that.”

“That’s when you stole the Ecto Skeleton!” Jack spoke up, no longer tense. “You never brought it back.”

“That’s not my fault, that thing almost wasted me! It was gone once I woke up!” The boy objected, but seemed to settle down when the larger ghost ruffled his hair. “I wanted to bring it back.”

“I’m sure now they understand how vitally important that technology was, for your world and ours.” The ghost’s yellow eyes watched them expectantly, the unnerving void of pointed daggers thankfully closed now.

“Well it did get Amity back where it belonged.” Losing the Ecto Skeleton had been a blow, but an acceptable one to get back to normal. The fact that more ghosts seemed to know and care about their part of it was somewhat unnerving. She very much doubted Phantom just ‘lost’ it either. Jack suffered from the demands of the suit, but the ghost was just ectoplasm and electricity. Quite unlikely he could be drained that much, it wasn’t meant for ghosts to use in the first place.

“Your world? Doesn’t the kid live here?” Jack asked, making his wife blink. She hadn’t noticed that odd phrasing.

“No, no. The Great One prefers the human world and his friends. How are they doing?”

He froze up, eyes flicking to the hunters and back to the yeti. “Fine. They’re great.” He darted closer to the two hunters, gesturing at them to move. “Okay let’s go.”

How much interacting was this ghost doing with humans to have ‘friends’ it told other ghosts about? They could be in danger, or used as targets! “No no, we’d love to hear about your friends.”

“Nope, you don’t, gotta get home right? Big hurry, don’t trust me, remember?” He was practically pleading with them.

Frostbite’s ears twitched as he tilted his head. “Don’t trust you? Surely they’re the ones who taught your friends how to drive that craft of yours?”

Phantom had the gall to turn invisible.

“We were unaware anyone other than us was using it, actually.” Maddie didn’t bother to keep the frost from her voice.

“Ah, well at least the good news is I already knew how to make a replacement battery for it when the Great One came asking for help.” His tail twitched, as one of the great claws scratched at his furry chest. “It should be good as new once you can install it.”

So not only was this ghost stealing technology and bringing humans to the ghost zone, it was teaching other ghosts how it worked! The second that ghost was in their grasp, he’d have some serious answering to do. “Do all of you call him that?” It was the only question she could ask without wishing to spit acid, quite frankly.

“All of the Far Frozen recognize him as such, but not all ghosts are the same. He should be proud of the title, a savour of two worlds.”

“Frostbite I’m begging you, stop! It’s embarrassing!” The ghost dropped his invisibility, still looking more like a flustered kid instead of the heroics seeking fame junkie he was.

“Well if it helps your relationship with these ghost hunters, I think it is important that they know.”

“Yeah no. Let’s not.”

It felt like there was something the two ghosts weren’t saying. That, and the fact Phantom didn’t seem to like being hailed as a hero here in the Ghost Zone didn’t make sense. Why all the grandstanding in Amity then?

“Well we’ll be glad for the lift home. You shouldn’t steal from us, kid.” Jack tried a stern approach, and the ghost actually flinched from the rebuke.

“You’re not the only ones who want to map this place out, that’s all,” he didn’t really seem to be answering them, more talking to himself before launching himself at the Speeder again. “You can shoot at me about it back home or whatever.”

“Travel safely! Do try and explore your other half more often, Great one. You’re always welcome here.” His great furry head watched them all easily, seeking out the ghost hunters eyes as well. "I understand you are less interested, but you are welcome to see the realities of my home as well. It may surprise you, in a good way."

She desperately wanted to ask what that monster of a ghost meant by that, but managed to hold her tongue. If all the ghosts here saw Phantom as some sort of godlike hero, chewing him out here wasn’t safe. Jack’s small nod of agreement and warm hug helped, but it couldn’t stop her mind churning. They’d seen and hurt so much, and none of it made any sense! This Frostbite just threw in several more wrenches in the works with only a few sentences, but with how agitated Phantom was getting now wasn’t the time to push their luck. Perhaps when the shoe was on the other foot, and the boy needed their assistance.

He didn’t speak up or grumble this time as they left the frozen land behind. Though that might be them as well,m sitting close together and considering the notes and samples they had taken. That and the huge list of questions Jack had scrawled down in the margins of a sketch of Frostbite. How could a ghost like Phantom truly manage to stay in the human world most of the time? Did it have to do with this ‘other half’ that ghost had mentioned? Would knowing what it was reveal a weakness in the ghost? So many questions, but no answers. Why had Phantom even let them speak to any ghosts, considering how badly he’d reacted to some of the information given? He couldn’t genuinely be wanting to help.

The inviting glow of the portal appeared sooner than either of them could expect, the ghost dropping the ship on the lab floor with a loud clunk.

“See? Home. No ‘evil plan’” he floated into view, and she was fairly sure he only did so to make those air quotes with his hands.

“So you say, ghost kid. Don’t think we won’t be checking for tricks!”

“Yeah sure,” he shrugged, grinning after a moment. “Oh hey, by the way, you do know what the Speeder is powered with, right?”

Maddie didn’t actually know how to take that question. “Of course we do, we built it!”

“Uh huh.” His grin widened as he kicked back, legs vanishing into that strange tail. “All you had to do was take the cover off. It’s the Ghost Zone! There’s ectoplasm everywhere! I just had Frostbite make a backup.”

...Had they really- They had. They’d been dragged around by a ghost for no reason at all! “Why you little-”

He kept laughing before turning and getting out of the way. “Thanks for flying with Phantom Zone Tours! I’m out.” A jaunty wave and he was gone, leaving two baffled ghost hunters behind.

“I think some fudge is in order after that!”

She couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe fudge could make sense of that whole affair. All that for a prank? It didn’t add up. They’d have a lot of work to do.

#Danny Phantom #phic fight 2021 #Maddie Fenton #jack fenton #hey look a fun one!#tho they are kinda mean about poor danny-boy #but hey minimal angst! woo!#Team Ghost

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haikyunicorn · 4 years

Text

halloween with kuroo, iwa, asahi and suga

@mer92 asked “Hiiii I've just started to follow you! Would it be possible to request HC for Kuroo, Iwa, Asahi and Suga on a Halloween date with their S/O? like what kind of costumes will they wear if they will be wearing matching costumes... Or if they would go to Halloween parties or just stay home? Thank you if you decide to write it down! 😊”

Hi, lovely! Thank you for following and requesting<3 it was very fun writing this! this is less plot-filled than my other hcs, i hope that’s ok with you

kuroo tetsurou

Kuroo likes Halloween

He’s not super hyped up about it, but he loves playing scary pranks on his friends and then using Halloween as an excuse :)

He tells Lev and Inuoka that the boy’s toilet on the 2nd floor is haunted and do they believe him?? Absolutely, yes.

He doesn’t mind going on spooky dates, either!

In fact, he’ll drag you to watch a horror film or stay up all night exchanging scary stories

He would also probably take you and the team “ghost hunting” around the school after volleyball practice when it’s dark and no one’s around

Nerd boy with his nerd costumes

He doesn’t want to spend too much effort or money in a costume he’s only going to wear once this year, but he doesn’t want a lame costume, either

He’d love to get matching costumes with you!!

But all his suggestions will be either memey or nerdy costumes

The firsts that come to mind are the ‘woman screaming at cat’ (he’ll be the cat) or he’ll get you both matching t-shirts with the elements copper (Cu) and tellurium (Te) printed on them “so when we stand next to each other, everyone can see how CuTe we are”

He is also not opposed to character costumes like Rick and Morty or Hogwarts wizards/witches

Kuroo will go to a party with you and slip away for a while the second you both get there with no explanation and then very unsuspiciously hang around you all night

Later you find out he has signed you both up for the costume contest

The both of you are definitely not the best dressed ((read below: suga and his s/o)) but strut on the stage like it’s a fashion show

Or if you refuse to go up and participate because you were involuntarily signed up, Kuroo will still go up alone, pick up a microphone with a deadpan face and say “this is supposed to be a matching costume but there were some technical difficulties” you brought this on yourself, kuroo

Haunted houses and horror films are definitely his favourite things about Halloween!

I feel like Kuroo isn’t afraid of the ghosts and stuff, but he doesn’t handle being jumpscared well

When he gets shocked while in a haunted house or during a movie, he’ll yelp out a bunch of swears lmao

But he loves the temporary adrenaline rush and 10/10 will do it again

If you tease him and call him a scaredy cat, he’ll pout

And you can expect him trying to sneak up on you and scare you the next day

iwaizumi hajime

Iwa doesn’t care much for Halloween

He gets a little annoyed at all the Halloween-themed products that stores come out with because he thinks it’s just a marketing scheme to sell some overpriced shit (it is)

But if you want to go try out pumpkin desserts or visit a haunted house, he’ll indulge you just because he loves spending time with you no matter what you two end up doing

He’s usually not one to dress up for Halloween

The most he’s done is put on a t-shirt with a superhero logo on it 🙄

Oikawa has tried multiple years to get him in “matching best friend costumes” but Iwa has never once agreed

But if you pout a little a few weeks before Halloween, bribe him with some kisses, catch him in a good mood, he’ll say yes (make sure to say no takebacks)

Deciding on a costume consists of you giving suggestions and Iwa saying yes or no to them

He doesn’t want to do something very costume-y, he prefers to wear an outfit that can pass as a regular outfit but it’s based on a character from a movie or series

E.g. Kim and Ron from Kim Possible, Ash/Misty and Brock from Pokemon (Iwa would be perfect as Brock??? he’s already got the hair down fdkjs), Sandy and Danny from Grease (show off his arms yes)

Iwaizumi will go to a Halloween party because all his friends are going lol

Oikawa will be devastated when he sees Iwa wearing matching costumes with you and this is partly why he agreed to do it with you

He’ll keep you by his side or follow you around for most of the party because “the costume won’t make sense if he’s standing alone” or whatever sir just say you’re too shy to do it alone

If you want to stay home, he’s fine with it too

Whether you want to have a movie marathon, bake something, carve pumpkins, anything really, he’ll do it with you

Lowkey wants to watch scary films so he can “protect you” if you get scared

Like if you’re squeezing his arm during a scary scene he’ll be like “it’s not that scary, you wimp” but also he’s pulling you closer and putting his arm around you and his heart is fluttering-

so in conclusion: iwa is a simp for you

Bonus: one time you came over to his house and his mom showed you a picture of 6-year-old Iwaizumi dressed up as godzilla for Halloween💖

azumane asahi

Halloween isn't his favourite holiday for um.. personal reasons

Once October comes around, Asahi is already being tormented by some of his friends (it’s suga) scaring him

He doesn’t despise everything about Halloween, though - in fact, there are some things he really loves about Halloween

Like going to a pumpkin festival, baking sweet treats together, enjoying a walk in the park with the pretty autumn scenery, or choosing and DIY-ing costumes

Asahi loves the costume planning with you!!

The both of you will take days or even weeks in advance finding the perfect costume and figuring out how to make them

He definitely prefers the cute costumes over gory costumes

Some of the costume ideas are Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf, Cheshire Cat/Alice and the Mad Hatter/White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, or characters from the Wizard of Oz

i don’t know why all of these are from children’s fantasy stories im sorry-

You and Asahi will take turns going to each other’s houses after school or on weekends and working on your costumes together (It’s his favourite part (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ))

If he goes to a Halloween party, it’ll probably be a small gathering, such as a potluck with the Karasuno volleyball team

Everyone will be in awe of how cute you two look!!

If the team decides to switch off the lights and leave a flashlight on, gather around and tell spooky stories, he’ll want you next to him and you two will be holding onto each other

the first and second years are so jealous of their senpai and his cute s/o

Haunted houses are a no-no, sorry

Asahi doesn’t mind staying in either!

If you have a movie marathon, you guys binge Harry Potter or Studio Ghibli movies (they have magic so they’re Halloween movies right?)

Though if you’re a horror movie fanatic, he’ll try to watch a scary film with you

He will also have a lot of snacks! And the best hot chocolate you will ever have

I can also imagine Asahi doing your nails? And maybe he’ll let you do his nails too

You two make cute designs of little ghosts and pumpkins but don’t let each other see until it’s finished so it’s a surprise

You share lots of cuddles and kisses afterwards, and Asahi can’t wait to spend another sweet Halloween with you🥺🥰

Bonus: Kageyama showed up in his volleyball uniform and said his costume is a volleyball player :)?

sugawara koushi

Suga loves Halloween!!

It’s an excuse to have fun, cute dates under the guise of “keeping up the tradition”

Even before Halloween, he’ll take you on cafe dates to a different place each week to try out the pumpkin specials

You two will make jack-o-lanterns and then compare to see who did a better job, which could potentially end up in a tickle fight

This boy is going all out with the costumes!!

Maybe it’s the mom instincts, but he’s not settling on some cheap online/store-bought costume and he’ll DIY for both his s/o and himself

It’ll be an iconic couple and something very chic

Like you know Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka‘s family halloween costumes? That’s the vibes you two have

Examples of your costumes include: Morticia & Gomez from The Addams Family, Jack and Sally from The Nightmare Before Christmas, Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask (plss)

You help each other put on each other’s costumes and make-up <333

Both of you will go to a halloween party, even if it’s just a few close friends gathering, and you two are gonna be the IT couple

your outfits and makeup will be on point all through the night and everyone will be so jealous💖

He’d probably take you trick or treating to a few houses for fun tbh HAHA

Your neighbours open up their front door to see.. Two grown ass children?? With costumes looking like they were professionally made??? Grinning and holding out their trick or treat bags?????

They’ll be so confused they end up giving you guys candy anyway

Suga is also a horror fanatic!

If you let him, he’ll drag you to a haunted house attraction

He’s the type to laugh at the scares :)

But he’ll hold your hand and let you cling to his arm if you’re scared, trying to reassure you

He’ll also arrange a horror movie marathon + sleepover!

After you get back, clean up and change into your comfiest pyjamas, Suga has already set up the living room

The couch is stacked with pillows and blankets, some of the lights are switched off, there’s a large bowl of popcorn and your trick-or-treat loot on the table and the movies are already queued on the TV

If you’re not a big fan of horror movies, he’ll opt for less scary but still Halloween-themed movies like Corpse Bride, The Nightmare Before Christmas or Coraline (coraline’s kinda creepy but so good), or the “horror/thriller” movies that are just bad so you both can laugh at them

You and Suga snuggle under the blankets with pillows all around, munching on your snacks and watching the movies until you both fall asleep together

thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed~

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starkeristheendgame · 4 years

Note

okay so i just got my first ever massage today and holy crap it was so sensual. and i was wondering if you could write something where like tony’s had so many massages in his life that he knows where the best spots are and peter is stressed cus of college or whatever and tony gives him a massage and peter cums just from tony giving him a back massage.

Ooohhh, yes! I’m not one for massages personally because I kinda hate being touched by people I don’t know, especially like that, but I’ve given a few to friends and received a few from past lovers, so I hope this is to your liking! Thank you so so much for the prompt! I added a little dry humping in this, too, because cumming just from a spinal massage seemed a lil too unrealistic.

Super healing was all well and good, but Tony knew well enough that it didn’t mean the absence of pain. He’d been around Steve long enough to know that in some cases, it even amplified it. What was feeling your bones and muscles stretching for each other if not painful?

Watching Peter wince and reach for his lower back for the fourth time since they holed themselves up in the lab, Tony knew the answer. The kid had taken a pretty decent battering on the field - No broken bones, but plenty of taut, aching muscles.

“Hey, kid” Tony called, setting down the holo-pen he was using and motioning for Peter to join him. The boy moved happily but gingerly, overcareful of stretching too much as he bounded over to Tony’s side.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“You doing okay? You’re creaking more than I do”. Tony had just began to come to terms with the fact that his age unfortunately hadn’t slowed down. He was verging on fifty, greying at the temples and finding it harder and harder after each battle. He was by no means unfit, but age was unkind to even superheroes.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Just kinda twinges a little” Peter shrugged, and visibly regretted it. Tony cast the kid a pointed look, and he deflated slightly. “Okay. So...It kinda does suck. But only a little! Like, a day or two and I’ll be fine. Hot baths help, too”.

Tony gave a considering hum and reached up to rub at his jaw. “What about massages?” He asked, and Peter blinked at him.

“What, like...Some stranger rubbing you all over while you wear nothing but a towel?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don;t know what porn you’re watching, kid, but the majority of places ask you to wear your underwear or a bathing suit”. Peter went a pretty shade of dusky pink, eyes flitting anywhere but Tony’s face as he died a little inside.

“Uh. Well. No to either. Both! I mean...I’ve never had a massage. Its just a little weird, isn’t it? And expensive” Peter rambled, gesturing meekly. Tony supposed it was a little strange, but he was also not ill-advised of the merits of a skilled masseuse.

“Cm’ere” Tony coaxed, motioning Peter closer. The boy frowned a little, but was mostly curious as he stepped forwards, and Tony grasped him by a lithe shoulder, turning him until the kid was facing away from him, and Tony could see the smooth lines of his back through his shirt.

He reached up and set his hands on Peter’s shoulders, brows furrowing as he carefully felt about the honed muscles. God, but Peter was tense. Not coiled like a spring, but he definitely wasn’t lax as Tony pressed his thumbs gently into the meat of his shoulder. Peter jolted in surprise but visibly forced himself to relax as Tony began to knead at him, and after several moments, let out a soft sound.

“Huh. That’s...Not so bad” Peter admitted, when Tony was digging into the space between his shoulders, paddling out the tension across his spine there. Tony gave a light smile and a hum, to show that he was listening to him.

“You feel like someone just caught you jacking off, kid” he chuckled, and then paused. Perhaps...Not the greatest choice in words, and he hurried to wipe them from immediate existence. “I know you got pretty beat up out there, yesterday. How about I book you in with my guy, huh? You can see him whenever you feel too...Tense”.

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I don’t think I want some stranger feeling me up” Peter replied, but it was quiet, distracted as Tony let his hands dip a little lower, to the point where his spine began to broaden out into shoulderblades, pawing at the meat and bone.

“Have a think about it” Tony urged, thumbs pressing against the dip of Peter’s spinal cord, and the boy gave a muffled, sharp sound. Tony almost, almost paused, but he knew pleasure when he heard it, and continued wordlessly. And he was kind of glad he did, because when he took the selfish opportunity to run his hands down Peter’s spine, the kid truly did feel like he’d been tazed or something.

“Jesus, kid” Tony whuffed, petting gently at the locked up muscles. Peter ducked his head and then looked over his shoulder at Tony, almost shyly. Tony greeted him with a small smile and let his knuckles graze the delicate outline of the boy’s spine, not enough to really do enough except indulge himself.

“Alright, here. Sit on this chair, facing the back” Tony instructed, motioning to his abandoned stool. It had a sloped back, and Peter twisted, moving cautiously but clearly interested to see where this was going to do. He took a moment to psych himself up as he watched Peter splay those toned, lithe thighs around the chair, watched the shirt hug his back when he leaned forwards.

But Tony was nothing if not a pleaser, and he stepped forwards, waggling his fingers and then driving the heels of his palms against the small of his back. Peter made another of those soft little noises, and Tony offered a smirk, brows furrowing as he focused on mapping the lines of Peter’s body, each slope and curve and each battered muscle.

Somewhere along the five minute mark, Peter’s head was lolling and on every other press of Tony’s hands he was uttering pleasured, sighed little sounds. It sang through Tony’s veins, catering to every nurturing and giving atom in his body. Peter was growing laxer by the minute, and yet...

“Hey, kid. If you wanna get the most outta this - And this isn’t a come-on, but you ought to be laying down, and I’ve got a perfectly working bed one floor up” Tony remarked, trying his hardest to word it so it didn’t sound like he was being a leech.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounded sleepy, but his voice was a little higher, too, hitched like he was trying to contain himself.

“Not a come-on” Tony hurried to reiterate, hands stilling but not leaving Peter’s body. “Massages are done with you laying down, right? So you’re all relaxed and...Easier to mash up like a potato, I suppose. I can do a little magic like this, but if you want the full effect...”

He was aware of how it all sounded, and he was about to take it all back when Peter shifted, and then nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Um. Are you sure? I mean, its your bed” Peter uttered, Tony stepping back just in time for him to swing a leg around, standing and then sitting again, so he was facing his mentor. Tony snorted lightly, and eyed him.

“You say that like I’m a wolf and its my den”.

“Well. No. But its kinda...Private, isn’t it? Like, its your space”. And. Well, Tony could understand that. He was, in fact, rather comfortable with having his bedroom as his personal space. Especially with the majority of the Avengers living at the Tower now.

It was his space, yes. Even the rare hook ups he’d managed over the years, he took them to one of the spare rooms. But he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, and he certainly wasn’t going to analyse why he was so comfortable with the idea of Peter not only seeing it, but laying in his bed.

“Its not like you’re gonna be rolling around naked in it, kid”.

And.

This is why he didn’t talk to people. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but a shuffle brought his gaze up and he blinked when he found Peter standing, smiling at him almost meekly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark. It’ll be nice to be able to move around properly again”.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and turned on his heel. He’d offered; he couldn’t back out of it now. It felt hideously odd to lead the way to his room, his skin prickling and his mind like a box of angry wasps. He was hyper-aware of Peter’s footfalls behind him, light and steady.

The stairs. The penthouse main suite. Up the short steps and along the balcony. And...Right outside his bedroom door. The actual penthouse was nothing new to Peter - The two of them had spent enough time in here, as had the other Avengers, though it was by far not as heavily populated as the ‘main floor’ of the Tower, now dubbed a communal space.

And yet.

Tony pushed open his bedroom door before he could think too deeply about all of this, and swung an arm out with bravado. “Ta-Da! Here it is. My humble abode. Or...The very top part, at least”.

Tony’s bedroom was...Indulgent. His bed was a super king, and then just a little bigger. Black sheets that adorned a mix of silk of teddy fleece, and snowy-fox style fake fur throws. Ample pillows. The decor was minimalistic but a blend of regal and cool, sleek modern. Steel greys and deep blacks. One entire wall gave a one-way view of the cityscape and could be projected into anything he desired.

Besides him, Peter audibly breathed out.

“I know. Pretty lame, right?” Tony could do with more than 6 blankets. And he could definitely do something more creative with the decor. Besides him, Peter looked affronted.

“My bed came from a garage sale”.

“Ah” Tony considered, then gestured. “Go ahead”.

Like a puppy being told it could get on the couch, Peter went bounding towards it, flopping down near the centre with a delighted sound. Tony’s heart did something that defied gravity, and he let Peter squirm about for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Alright, alright. Roll over”. And he was really gonna have to stop with the puppy analogies before he couldn’t walk down the same street as a dog anymore. But Peter co,plied instantly, rolling onto his stomach with a whine of satisfaction, nosing into Tony’s sheets and...And he took the opportunity to adjust himself briefly, cursing the fact his cock had pricked up in mild interest.

“Alright. I’m gonna avoid any ‘deep tissue’ kinda territory, because you’ve never had a massage before”. And Tony knew from personal experience that ‘flying before you could walk’ was not always the best approach. Peter was looking at him again, blinking doefully and entirely too trusting, and Tony gave a light cough before he set a knee down next to Peter’s hip.

He decided on safe territory, and went back to the boys shoulderblades and upper spine, kneading intently and applying more pressure than he had before, know he knew the boy was safely and comfortably relaxed. Beneath him Peter was pliant and soft, eyes closed, arms crossed as a pillow and doing something utterly unforgivable to Tony’s heart.

He let his hands naturally gravitate towards the centre of Peter’s back, pressing at the easy slope of his spine. Beneath him, Peter’s hips hitched, and Tony fought back a smile. Involuntary movements could be hilarious. He pressed the heels of his palms down, thumbs sliding along the gentle ridges of the bone, and Peter heaved out a breath, hips pressing down into the plush bedding.

It was relatively quiet, Tony focusing on his work and Peter reaping the benefits of it with cute little noises. It wasn’t until Peter moaned that Tony realised his hips were inching quite...Rhythmically.

Doing his best not to alter his hand movements, Tony let his gaze zero in on the boy’s hips, watching as they rolled languidly and minutely against his bed. Something feral opened its eyes within him, licking its great, gaping maw. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let his weight drop a little more, pressing Peter’s hips against the bed.

“O-Oh” Peter stuttered, and Tony couldn’t help a sly grin.

“Good?”

“Mm” Peter breathed, lips parted. Tony watched, rapt and hungry, gravitating to the space between Peter’s hips. He did his best not to make it obvious, the way he manipulated how Peter rutted against his mattress, but before long the boy was shaking and a steady stream of moans were dripping from his tongue.

Peter seemed to catch himself at one point, stiffening, cheeks flushing, but Tony shushed him cheerfully. “Hey, its okay. At least you’re not screaming in agony” he teased, and Peter giggled, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry. Its just...Its good? I mean, it hurts a little sometimes. But it feels really nice”.

He wanted, so badly in that moment, to make Peter feel even better. To drive his hips down against the bedding until he came. It was possessive and greedy, and he tried to fight it even as Peter’s sweet, high little moans filled his ears.

“Its okay” he repeated, quieter. “How does...Do you feel any better?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Below him, Peter nodded, paused, and squirmed.

“I do, yeah. Tonnes, but...I mean, I’m still a little stiff? In the middle. Maybe...Maybe the muscle is too tight? Or its not the right angle?”

Something twisted within him, warping and bending until it snapped, and he was parting his lips before he could even muster the self-control to murder the thought. “I could...Its not common. For obvious reasons. And feel no obligation to agree, but I could change the angle? Just means kinda...Sitting. On your legs. A little”.

And...Fuck. He wanted to claw the words back in, especially when Peter’s breathing hitched and he whimpered, but...Fuck. Was the kid nodding? The kid was nodding.

“Okay. Yeah. Just...For the...Benefits” Peter near whispered. Tony stared at the back of his head for a little while longer, tracing the spirals of his curls before he sucked in a breath. Right.

“Right” he affirmed, and after a moment, he brought his other leg up, so, so carefully over the other side of Peter. He aimed it close to his knee, so that when he truly shuffled across he wasn’t quite reverse-straddling the teenager. The angle actually was better, because he could pay closer attention to the alignment of his back and the muscle layout.

And now that he had better access, he began to knead at the boy in earnest, drawing soft little ‘uh’s on each press that went straight, unfortunately, to his dick.He couldn’t help the thought that this was quite possibly what the kid sounded like, stroking himself to orgasm in secret, late at night in his room.

“O-Oh. That’s...Yeah, Mr. Stark” the boy half-moaned, shaky and almost surprised, like he hadn’t ever expected it to feel this good.

Tony’s own hips nudged forwards, irregardless of his own permission, until he was all but three inches away from grinding against the teen like a...Well. Like a teen. Tony remembered all those youthful days of rutting against his partners like a dog in heat, the teasing friction that layers of clothing offered.

“Can you...Could you go lower? Like, the bottom of my spine? It feels...tight” Peter sounded hesitant, but more in the way that he typically was when asking anything of Tony. It was still fresh on Tony’s mind that it had taken the kid almost a month of being at the Tower to even ask for a drink.

“Yeah, kid. Okay” Tony agreed easily, surprised at how little his voice strained or wavered. He shuffled on his knees to adjust his balance and lowered the placement of his hands, watching Peter’s spine bow under his touch, hips sliding in an arc against his bed.

The short little hitches had Tony tipping forwards without even really registering it, and when a shuffle from Peter had Tony’s hips just barely grazing his ass, they both paused. Tony was about to open his mouth when Peter relaxed again, fingers flexing then twisting in the bedsheets, and he wordlessly continued.

The squirming increased. The moans grew bolder, less held back. Subtle nudges became flat out grinds into Tony’s luxurious sheets, and each torturous movement nudged them together in bare touches.

One particularly heavy press of Tony’s palms had Peter letting out an honest to god whine, hips pushing back against his hips instead of down against the bed, and Tony breathed out heavy, thumbs digging into his muscles. “Good?” He rasped, and Peter whimpered below him, fisting the sheets tightly and grinding back again.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry. It just...Your hands. The bed” Peter heaved, burying his face into his arms to hide his shame. Tony found himself squeezing Peter’s hips, swallowing thickly as he looked down to see where they were connected, the jut of his hips flush against that plump, round ass he’d been doing his best not to look at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Its okay” he was speaking before he could even think about it, fingers flexing reassuringly in their perfect, fitting hold before he ran his hand down Peter’s spine, pet at his flank. “Happens to the best of us. Just...Don’t ruin my sheets”.

God. What was he saying? This is why Pepper didn’t let him do things. Or meet people anymore. Beneath him Peter’s little body hitched and he turned his head slightly, blinking back at Tony with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Wha-?”

“Just relax” Tony cut him off, hands drifting to resume his work on that tight little knot at the base of his spine. It looked like Peter was going to protest, but then he lolled his head back into the duvet, nuzzling it with a low groan.

“M-Mr. Stark” the boy dragged out, trembling just ever so slightly under his hold as Tony drove his hips down against the bedding, and pulled them back up against his hips, where his own cock had begun to swell into a thick rise.

“You’re...Hard” Peter squeaked, and Tony ground his teeth, thumbing at a stiff slope of muscle.

“Yeah” he agreed quietly, and was surprised when Peter’s hips drove back against him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he folded over slightly, gripping at Peter’s hips as a spark of pleasure jumped through his pelvis.

He fucked forwards against it without thinking, pressing down on Peter’s bowed spine, drawing a moan from both of them. “How close are you?” He ground out, rolling his hips languidly to ride the slope of Peter’s firm ass. Beneath him the boy whimpered and rolled his hips in response.

“Close”.

“That the skill of my hands, or the durability of my bedding?” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and Peter shuddered beneath him, head shaking slightly as he refused to answer. Tony couldn’t even feel affronted - He knew the pleasure of good bedding and sturdy mattress.

They began to move together in earnest, rutting with single-minded intent like Tony was eighteen and driven by his cock all over again (he might not be eighteen now, but the latter still largely applies). Tony braced himself, thighs tensed and body arched over Peter’s, riding his ass like it was all he was born to do even as he kept working on Peter’s spine, digging into the meat and bone until one of Peter’s arms bent backwards, searching.

Their fingers interlocked and Tony moved his arm forwards, bringing Peter’s hand back to a more comfortable position as the signs the boy was getting closer to completion became more apparent. Tony’s own pleasure was coiling through his body, taut like a spring about to release. He felt flushed, heady, cock hot and desperate.

“Mr. Stark!” It was pitched, a half-yelp, and then Peter’s body was jerking beneath him, arching and locking up, torn between fucking forwards and pressing back against Tony’s cock as the boy shuddered through his orgasm, coaxed through it by Tony’s hand on the centre of his back, pressing him down into the mattress.

Peter cums with the most breathtaking sound. A moan warped into a cry, shaking and rich with pleasure and emotion. Has the bite heightened everything? Peter’s senses are always so sharp, so raw. How did an orgasm feel, when even the sound of your own breathing could overwhelm you?

When the kid finally, finally slumps down beneath him, still pinned - allowing himself to be pinned - Tony can’t bring himself to chase his own, heat and guilt fighting an equal war in his gut.

“How do you feel?” He bit out, forcing himself to let up some of the weight. Peter had only consented to Tony making him feel good. And even then...Had it really been consent? He kind of felt like the guilt was winning out of the heat.

“I feel good” Peter breathed, head turned to blink at him lazily, sated. “Really good. I feel...Loose”.

The lecherous smirk is dazzling before he can stop it, palm sliding down the gentle slope of Peter’s spine the settle dead centre on that inviting, round ass, thumb pressing just a fraction into the dip of his cheeks, towards a wet, hot heat Tony knows awaits.

“Want to feel even looser?”

#fanfic #starker #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #starker fic #starker smut #starker drabble #starker prompt #starker prompt fill #starker request #ironspider #ironspider fanfiction #ironspider fanfic #ironspider fic #ironspider smut #ironspider request #ironspider prompt #sie fics

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voidsentprinces · 3 years

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FGO is a mythological fanfic clusterfuck...

Prologue: You are an unassuming man or madam who briefly meets their classmate, Mash. And angers their tsundere superior in Chaldea. An organization made to stop the end of the world. The one guy standing around and dressed like “I am an evil villain”. Turns on Chaldea and all the people suppose to go get blown up before they can embark on their first mission. This explosion sends you flying into Fuyuki with your Tsundere Superior and your classmate turned servant. You are the worst choice to save humanity from the end of the world. But now the only option.

Storyline of Fuyuki: Ah, good to be back in OG Fuyuki. Except everything is one fire, most of humanity is dead, and you have to escort a tsundere superior around while your classmate learns how to be a servant. Everyone is evil except Cu Chulainn who is a wizard and is your drunk uncle here to impart wisdom and snark.

Storyline of Orleans: Jeanne D’Arc comes back as Darth Vader leading an army of other historical villains including Elisabeth Báthory , Dracula, Marie Antonette’s Executioner, the Phantom of the Opera, and Darth Lancelot. You team up with Jedi Master Jeanna D’Arc as well as a younger for some reason dragonkin version of Elisabeth Báthory (just to make thing confusing), Marie Antionette, Motherfuckin’ Mozart, Kiyohime and Sigfried to stop her. Also dragons are everywhere. Darth D’Arc exists because Bluebeard wanted to give her catharsis.

Storyline of Septem: What if Emperor Nero wasn’t completely off his fucking rocker, came back as a fashionable wife, and has to fight previous Roman Emperors to get back Rome? Including a rotund Julius Caesar, an incoherent batshit Caligula, a young Alexander the Great and his hapless future successor who is an adult and just as confused as you, and Romulus. Whose death spawns Attilla the Hun as a space dressed waifu. And just to make their roles in history null and void. You enlist the help of Boudica and Spartcus to aid you. Also Jing Ke and mecha Lu Bu are there too.

Storyline of Okeanos: What if Francis Drake was a big tiddie pirate wife. Alright what if previously to your arrival she 1 v 1′d Poseidon and WON!? Alright now what if after getting her help, you fought Eric Bloodaxe, got trolled by Euryale to re-enact the myth of the Minotaur. But then the Minotaur turned out to be a good boi and joined you. Also Artemis carrying around Orion, Atlanta and David, King of Israel is there. So is Jason and some of the Argonauts but like just Medea and Heracles. Replacing the other Argonauts with Hektor from the Trojan War. Also you have to punch Blackbeard with Mary Read and Anne Bonny.

Story of London: There’s fog every where. You have to join forces with Traitor Knight, Mordred, Doctor Jeckyll, a kid Hans Christian, and Frakenstein’s Bride. Contending with Jack the Ripper, Mephistopheles, Hoienheim, Mecha Babbage, a bunch of Mannequins, and then the Mist of London just sort of summoned Nicoli Tesla and Darth Arthur to fight too. At the very end Tamamo no Mae and Sakata Kintoki arrive just to exit stage left immediately.

Story of E Pluribus Unum: Medb wants to fuck Darth Cu Chulainn but he’s not that interested. So she decides to fuck up Wild West America instead. Making Beowulf the Warden of Alcatrez, Fergus mac Roich the Heavy, and then kidnaps Rama’s Wife before mortally wounding him. Also she has to fight against Lion Headed Mecha Edison, Helena Blavatsky. The two of which are using Karna, Son of the Sun as the Bouncer. You convince a germ manic Florence Nightingale to aid you, pick up a wounded Rama on the way, as well as Robin Hood, Billy the Kid, young Elisabeth Báthory again, Geronomo and Nero who is trying to be an actress to fight them all. Also Scathach, Fionn Mac Cumhill and Diarmid are there too. But they just do things at random and Li Shuwen randomly shows up too.

Story of Camelot: What if the entire round table was just a bunch of psychopathic zealots who worthship the ground Arthur walked upon. And then got into a fight with Ozymandius and Nitrocris for the lulls while launching a magical tactical nuclear strike on the entirety of Crusader State Middle East. All the legends of Hassan is trying to stop them but Arash is there too. Tawara Tota is also there to distribute a shit ton of rice. Nothing you do here really matters. But Bedivere shows up to aid in the lackluster ending. Xuanzang Sanzang is also there.

Story of Babylonia: Not Enkidu answers to giant Medusa who is pretending to be Tiamat. Bringing about a massive army of demons and monsters to wipe out humanity in prehistoric Mesopotomia. Leonidas, Ushiwakamaru, and Benkai are doing their best to fight off the hordes. After three Demons go out like bosses before your arrival. Also young Medusa and Merlin are there cause why not? After befriending a woman in a tiger kigarumi, Quetzacoltal, Ishtar, and Ereshikigal. You find out defeating giant Medusa was a ploy to summon the real Tiamat and shit goes down. You eventually drop Tiamat into the Underworld where the First Hassan dewings her after which Ishtar, Ereshikigal, and Gilgamesh work together to defeat her. Ushiwakamaru is captured and comes back as an evil version of herself but with the aid Nekai and Quetzacoltal going out in a blaze of glory you defeat them all.

Story of Saloman: Every servant shows up to fight off Soloman and his Demons, turns out Soloman is the daemon Goetia possessing the corpse of Soloman. And the true Soloman is actually your acting director and base medical doctor. After your classmate sacrifices herself you defeat Goetia and Soloman decides he’s good for now and peaces out taking Goetia down with him and restoring humanity. Bringing your classmate back to life in the process.

But wait THERES MORE! The remaining Demons who survive the Goetia fight decide they’re mad they lost. So create some singularities to air out their grievances. Trapping you and the staff of Chaldea in a time space continuum until you hunt down and take them all out.

Story of Shinjuku: The League of Evil comprising of James Moriarty, Yan Qing, Darth Emiya, the Headless Horseman riding the Spirit of Vengeful Wolves, and the Phantom of the Opera take over 1990s Shinjuku for the fun of it. You have to enlist of the aid of James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, Darth Jeanne D’Arc, Darth Arthur Pendragon, and Edmond Dantes. Turns out Moriarty that was your ally was actually the true Moriarty and the one leading the League of Evil was the Demon you’re looking for. Summoning the power of all Fictional Detectives you defeat Moriarty. I shit you not.

Story of Agartha: Welcome to the Center of the Earth. Where the vast open plains are ruled by Darth Francis Drake, Penthesilea, and Wu Zetian. You are joined by Astolfo who takes the form of a cute anime girl but retains his gender, Chevalier d’Eon, and a young Fergus. Fighting the Queens and their respective empires with the aid of...sigh, Christopher Columbus. Surprising no one, Columbus turns out to be the true villain and with the aid of Shahrazad and a Demon almost Colony drops the Center of the Earth on top of the actual Earth, Age of Ultron style. But the power of friendship you win. Also Godzilla Heracles is running around.

Story of Shimosa: What if just after or before the Warring States period: Ashiya Doman, Yagyu Munenori, Minamoto no Raiko, Tomoe Gozen, Mochizuki Chiyome, and Shuten Doji showed up to fuck everything up? Including corrupting Hozoin Inshun just to be absolutely asinine? You get the power of a time traveling woman using the legend of Miyamoto Musashi to get into shenanigans. Also obtaining the aid of Fuma Kotaro and occasionally a robotic mecha Kato Danzo. The Demon sort of just appears backing Ashiya Doman.

Story of Salem: The Salem Witch trials but if done like the VVitch in a horror film manner. Not so much about the battles but about the atmosphere. As you, your classmate, Robin Hood, Charles Henri-Sanson, Nezha, Mata Hari, and the witch, Cirice posing as Medea for a few seconds there. Have to pose as a traveling circus of storytellers and entertainers. While the suspicions of the towns people grow darker. Ghouls and spirits begin to haunt the night. There are executions and the Demon turns out to be the one you least expect. The soul of a child is used to open up a gateway for an Outer God and shit goes down.

But wait there is even MORE!

Story of Prologue: You’ve hunted down and killed the demons. And now the world is back to normal. When a new force arrives to take over Chaldea in your stead. One of those new arrivals brings along an army to slaughter Chaldea and activates the end of the world by way of Alien Invasion. You get out of there in the nick of time via a magical meguffin mobile and now have to track down Lostbelts. Each one controlled by a King, a Master who was your former colleague who previously got blown up and now is now revived by the Aliens, and their servant as well. Good fucking luck chuck!

Story of Anatasia: Russia is fucked. Russia is SO FUCKED! That its been stuck in an Ice Age since the reign of Ivan the Terrible. The Russians are forced to use a magic to turn them into anthropamorphic beings and have been surviving barely due to the machanations of Saleri, Ivan the Terrible, Anastasia Romonov, the Master of this Lostbelt, and a particularly sadistic fox woman. With barely anything to go on and running out of fuel. You have to venture out into the eternal Russian Blizzard to get the aid of one of the locals, Avicebron and Darth Atlanta to defeat Anatasia, Ivan, and tear down their cosmic eldritch tree to restore humanity in that sector.

Story of Gotterdammerung: You made it out of Russia and into the Netherlands, where it seems on the cusp of Ragnarok. You are immediately facerolled by Sigurd being possessed by Sutr. Who is under the command of a master there. Enlisting the aid of Napoleon Bonaparte you fight back against Frost Giants, Valkyries, and Sigurd. Also enlisting the aid of Brynhildr to do so. You also have to contend with a girl made up of several goddesses and Scatach taking on the manter of Skadi.

Story of S I N: Out of the frying pan and into the China if it never left or evolved beyond the Qin Dynasty. Except for the Emperor who has become a giant space base, artifical intelligence reaching immortality. After having close calls with mecha centaur Xiang Yu, Qin Langyu, an older Li Shuwen, Lanling Wang. The Emperor sees you teaching peasants how to read and coloney drops a piece of himself on the village. You send Spartacus to punch to meteor...I shit you not. And with the aid of Mordred, Jing Ke, Red Hare, and Chen Gong. You impress Emperor Qin to come out of his shell and reveal his butterfly god form. Also the Master in this Lostbelt is actually a fucking vampire.

And that’s all I’ve gotten to so far.

#{ FGO is bizarre...really really REALLY fucking weird }#{ words from beyond }#{ i forced myself to play it so no one else has to }

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belle-keys · 3 years

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I Love Matthew Fairchild aka Incoherent Thoughts about Chain of Iron (2021) by Cassandra Clare

I made one of these rant-rave reviews for SJM's book so check it out if you want, no pressure tho lmao.

Aight so I finished Chain of Iron last night and OMG I HAVE TO YELL like I loved it sooo much like yooo, I have a lot to say. I know the book is new so... beware for spoilers plebs.

Also context: I been reading the Shadowhunter books since I was 12 and I'm 19 now *insert dead emoji face* so yeah, I'm just so happy rn with where the Chronicles have come and the fact that they’re still ongoing *insert uwu face*. I remember when in like 2014-2015 or something when Cassandra Clare teased that Will and Tessa's kids' generation was gonna get a trilogy set in Edwardian London, loosely based on Great Expectations, and holy hell? I think that was perhaps one of the best days of my life considering how much I adore The Infernal Devices (that trilogy really changed the way I see YA literature... don't ask cus I won't shut up about it) (also yes I read TMI and loved it too but there's a “generation gap” between TMI and the other Shadowhunter books stylistically so don't ask me about that either cus I also won't shut up).

Anyway, shoo from here if you want a critical essay on Chain of Iron. I'm not providing that, this is just me raving here for the fun.

Listen... I want the bulk of this to just be two main things: The Matthew Situation, and then all the literary and judeo-christian meta aspects of it.

BUT I ALSO NEED TO TALK ABOUT EVERYTHING ELSE SO FRICK LET'S JUST START WITH THE OBVIOUS SHIT LIKE THE PLOT AND WHATEVER

Okay, the plot and writing and shit, let's get that out of the way:

The WHOLE Jack-the-Ripper-esque ambiance was just sooooo good man wow like I did not expect the book to take this cold turn but it worked so well. There was such a contrast between Jamie and Cordelia's warm little house and then the cold winter and the stabbings and shit and it felt like a nice little callback to the actual Ripper phenomenon that preceded them and a nod to the Whitechapel Fiend story from Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy.

Bitch OFC that whole thing with Wayland was a set-up like nawww that was too easy to spot and I get why Cordelia feels like shit about it.

Dawg Lucie was just the Among Us imposter here in that my girl was just venting and sneaking around with dead people and I was like nooooo girl run, don't deal with Fade this is a set-up THINK ABOUT JULES LUCIE THAT'S LIKE YO GREAT-GRANDSON *sobs* but yeah anyway my girl has death powers she gonna kill some bitches next book.

You see that confrontation between Lilith and Belial? MASTERPIECE DIALOGUE like this was the point within which I was just like "yo is this the book of Genesis or a YA Fantasy novel" like when Lilith said "I may have been cast out but I did not fall" like??????????????????? I YELLED she did not have to END Belial like that. What a bad bitch.

More on Lilith and Belial... "You, who brought nations into darkness? Shall I finally be able to tell the infernal realms you have gone mad, lost even the image of the Creator." HAHAHHAHAHA SHE SAID "YO BELIAL GO GET SOME THERAPY AND GET OFF MY ASS" LIKE??????

Ughhhh yasss Clare has improved writing diverse characters in this book compared to in The Dark Artifices in my opinion... I'm not gonna expand on it cus ain't nobody got time for that but like, I enjoyed how she wove Persian poetry and tales into the story and the way in which she writes Cordelia and Alistair. They're not caricatures of Persian people but rather multi-faceted beings who also happen to be Persian and I appreciate that. Also, Alistair and Thomas and Anna and Ariadne were just so fun and interesting to read as coupbles but also as individuals. She really higlighted diversity in a very natural manner. All I need is a hijabi character and I’ll die a happy woman lmao.

The level of META man like the references to Classics and art (I swear, she might have compared Matthew to angels out of Caravaggio AND Rosetti AND Boticelli paintings and I Am Living For It) and just all the quotes from holy books and shit omg I love it here like you really feel catapulted into the time period, she draws reference to external art and philosophy so well and I feel like she upped the notch on it in this book (didn’t know that was possible but it was the prose is BEAUTIFUL, archaic, but not pretentiously so). No, like the characters live in their OWN worlds of literature and art and history in the way we are living in THEIRS. They quote Wilde and Milton while we'll quote Clare. It's awesome.

This is an unusually structuralist take even from me but: I like the way the milieu social of the book, i.e., the high society Edwardian circles and their values, have a direct influence on the plot. James and Cordelia got married because society’s values essentially forced them to, not a demon. Cordelia abandons Jamie at the end of Iron because her shame as a woman in society and fear for her reputation made her, not a demon. Thomas and Alistair can't be together solely because of how Alistair tarnished the reputation of the Fairchilds and Lightwoods by using the horror of infidelity against them. Issues relating to marriage, gender roles, etc, stemming DIRECTLY from the time period rule the sequence of events to the same degree as the epic fantasy aspects (demons, Princes of Hell, the lore itself) do and I LOVE that dear God above.

OKAY THE GOOD SHIT LET US TALK ABOUT CHARACTERS AND SHIPS (N.B. but imma discuss Matthew and the Fairstairs situation separately below this portion):

Alistair's redemption arc: No, cus Alistair's redemption arc is honestly amazing. He really did change and it's not like his betterment as a person was linked to any one heroic deed but rather he simply decided he wanted to be better especially for his family and he decided to become a proper protective son, a caring brother, and an amiable friend. He fully owned up to his Malfoy tendencies and apologized without expecting forgiveness. He shows how he cares in the little ways and omg it's so sweet and tender. I really do want him to love himself now and be embraced by Matthew especially and the rest of the Thieves.

Dawg Lucie and Jesse are so funny to me like it's so hilarious how this girl fell in love with a whole ass ghost that no one else knows about like HHAHA. Are Lucie and Jesse my ult ship ever? Nah, but it's nothing to do with Clare, it's just that their relationship happened pretty quick and feels quite like something epicly romantic that Lucie herself would write. I just like slow burn and friends-to-lovers the most from Clare. To be honest part of me just wanted Lucie to not have a romantic arc all together but like, it's all good, I'm not complaining.

Okay Grace- like yooooooooooo I never hated her yunno. She has been abused and isolated all her life. It's not that she is a bad person, but rather that she does not know what being a person even entails. Can't even say she's a “doll” of a person cus she's never even been pampered like one by her family. I really started understanding her motivations since when they gave us her half-childhood with Jesse. I want better for her but cmon can she REALLY be saved???

GRACE X CHRISTOPHER *pretends to be shocked*... Okay, sometime in the middle of the Dark Artifices series some big brain put together a very thorough family tree of the families and like, it clearly showed that Grace and Christopher got married so like, lmfaooooo, I knew this was coming one way or another, but the journey to this ship is more important than the destination. Like in a way Christopher is such a cute baby lamb that it makes sense he'd end up being immune to her Grace-ness when he's just a cute little Einstein boiii. Like this is just so funny to me cus he's so oblivious to social conventions while she makes the milieu social her entire life so OFC it's gonna work. Like, this is such a worlds-colliding trope like just Give It To Me.

James and Grace - aw mannn Jamie just had me fricking wanting to hit a wall every two seconds cus like yooooooo every single time I think he and Cordelia are gonna stop being emotionally-constipated spouses, Jamie says some kinda shit like "omg me and Daisy are just friends uwu" like DO I NEED TO HIT YOU?????????? See I can't blame him for not slamming the door on Grace's face even tho he totes should- Jamie is so cerebral and kind that even if Grace wasn't using the enchantment on him, I think he would always be soft for her even if it isn't in a romantic way. There's just so much miscommunication cus like he said "Thank God" when she broke off the engagement with Charles and lowkey embraced her but it also wasn't his fault cus it wasn't even romantic BUT OFC IT LOOKED HORRIBLE TO CORDELIA like James literally never told the woman at least once that he loved her so OFC she thought she was back to square one with him dear God above what a mess. Not his fault, but she DID set down one rule for him: don’t cheat with Grace. And yeah even tho he hasn’t properly cheated, it must FEEL horrible to her cus she’s just been enduring the pain of their unrequeted love for so long :((

See imma just say it but if Cordelia thought that James didn't love Grace then she def would have confessed to him about her feelings right but like James, on the other hand, was delaying his own romantic confession cus he was BEING EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED and I can't even say the bracelet was solely to blame cus like my boi was just being so difficult omg I believe he should be lightly spanked by his three parents aka Will, Tessa and Jem *cries*.

Cordelia is such a MOM like she's so mature and stable and her self-preservation instinct? OFF THE CHARTS I love this woman like James definitely treated her well as a hubby but like I JUST WANTED HER TO HAVE CLOSURE ABOUT SOMETHING and boy oh boy she did get that closure she got it good but not from the person she expected in the LEAST *hehe* *pelican screeching*... like Lucie was being sus with the whole ghost business and James was being just, quite a case, dealing with Grace and Belial right and I don't blame them at all for their secrecy and shit but her FATHER DIED and her friends were hiding a lot from her so in a way she turned to Alistair for help but he could only do so much cus of his own pain (she couldn't even talk to her mom cus she's pregnant and she doesn't wanna stress her right) and then there was this emotional block between her and Jamie, Lucie was often absent and conspiring with the dead... the last person remaining was HIM (imma discuss this soon), but yeah my heart just went OUT to her cus she's tryna save herself and her family and she just doesn't know what to do. That's why I love the way her mom told her to stop holding herself back for others and live her own life. Like Cordelia grew on me so much cus in Gold she undoubtedly was a strange Elizabeth Bennet-wallflower hybrid and I... do not usually get attached to wallflowers but in Iron I feel like I finally understood that she was just tryna be unproblematic and self-preserving all along and nottt put her family and friends in a tough situation.... she reminds me of my mom personality-wise so yeah I’m totally rooting for her now that her *situation* in the past seems clearer.

Anna, Thomas and Matthew are such a SQUAD lmfaooooo like united in their gayness they'd be so unstoppable.

Will and Tessa are the most in-love of all the in-loves in this story and I respect that so much.

I lost a year to my life every time the romance between James and Cordelia got cockblocked. Like they were MARRIED and I thought they were gonna at least sleep next to each other at least once BUT NO James couldn't take a hint omg I'm actually gonna eat my fist and sob (but in retrospect, I think this serves a bigger purpose in terms of the narrative structure i.e. the interruption of all the spicy James and Cordelia action serves a bigger purpose which I think brings me to my next section, *exhale*)

Welcome to the Matthew Fairchild Enthusiast Club (this section is me talking out loud; it makes no sense):

bitch.

LISTEN TO ME LISTEN WELL I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH IMMA SCREAM I REALLY AM GONNA SCREAM MY FIST IS LITERALLY IN MY MOUTH *BACKFLIPS OFF THE ROOF WITH LANA DEL REY PLAYING*

Okay like where to BEGIN I think the Shadowhunter boy who I'm most attracted to is Julian while the one I love the most is Will but I think I see myself in Matthew the most. Like ever since that first story where the Thieves all met at the Academy then got expelled, I think that I just KNEW Matthew was destined to be epic. Plus the whole Wilde obsession? I’m no libertine myself but I just love his chaos and passion for life.

NO CUS HE'S SO WITTY AND SWEET AND EPIC AND YET SO SECRETIVE AND DEAR GOD ABOVE AHHHHH WILL HE SURPASS JULIAN FOR ME??? Ion even know but this is just sodjsgdwsdygyegydgef

Hear me out but I said after finishing Gold last March that I wanted this book to be Matthew's healing arc right so halfway into the book when I realized that we weren't getting all that good healing arcing I was confused just cus I thought it seemed natural to address all of his alcohol issues and sadness by now. LITTLE DID I KNOW CASSIE WAS SETTING UP A WHOLE OTHER ARC WITH HIM THAT I WOULD HAVE NEVER GUESSED WTH.

At first I thought Matthew didn't have feelings for anyone at all, and if he DID develop feelings unexpectedly, I fricking thought that maybe he's catching feelings for James, if anyone??? I mean, I did have some suspicions about Matthew from the get-go: like he's so secretive and as readers we think we know everything there is to know about him since we were all privy to the truth potion incident in his short story right BUT NO I GOT PLAYED AND I DESERVE IT SO BADDDDDD.

Listen I hadn't shipped him and Cordelia simply because I never thought it in the realm of possibility but it MAKES SENSE as a ship... think about it: he never says what he feels, he flirts with her like he does with EVERYONE, he is kind to her in the way he is with EVERYONE. Really, Matthew is shippable with everyone, doesn’t matter if they’re taken cus that’s just what his Matthewnes allows for ya feel. There is such a beautiful irony that CORDELIA herself did not see this coming. Even the little teasers and hints in Gold have only NOW started making sense to me likejhss. I just felt like the hints in book 1 did not indicate to me that Matthew really harbored real romantic feelings for Daisy. I thought he was upset that James and Cordelia were being fakes, not a developing CRUSH on the woman fgs.

Not to mention that you usually sense a ship building when the emotional connection or sexual tension between the characters is made clearer but to me their FRIENDSHIP grew right but it didn’t feel like Cordelia was thought that she liked him or he liked her so that means me and Cordelia are clowns *together* 😤

Okay I was lowkey having SUSPICIONS but I immediately shut them down right... like firstly when he took her to the White Horse in his car and she went OFF and OFF and off about how she felt free for the first time? I thought Cassie was just tryna develop Cordelia's self-liberation arc through Matthew there. Heck, I didn't even think ANYTHING of it when Matthew confession to Cordelia about the "truth potion" incident at all cus I was like they're FRIENDS??? BUT now it's adding up now...

See when they were at the inn place and he was telling her that she doesn't in the least seem like a 100 year-old married woman? I was like hmmmm he's so sweet but why did Cassie phrase it like that like??? When Cordelia later reiterated that she thought Matthew's flirting was “meaningless”?? I was like hmmm kinda SUS tho. And then when he and James had their fight over the way Jamie kissed Grace like again I thought he was just like? ion know? mad at James for it but I didn't think he was in LOVE with Cordelia??? So I immediately put aside my slight suspicions. The probability that he had a crush on James at that point seemed more likely to me.

BUT THEN it started hitting me that every time Matthew drank, even before he explained his issue with the truth potion, that Cordelia would note it, she would worry about him, she would think of her father which seemed so poetic to me, history repeating itself and all that but this time you can FIX it??? Yeah, but again I didn't think the L WORD would be involved man???

Now imma sound like a delulu shipper here but it just makes sense they would develop feelings logically- reason being that it definitely is possible based on the way Cassie set up the story, like there's a combination of little “friend things” that can turn this into a proper ship: Matthew rescues Cordelia in the ballroom when Grace captures James' attention in Gold. Cordelia sees her father in Matthew all the time but knows now she has a chance to be there for him in the way she couldn't have been there for Elias (classic “history repeats itself” trope, she doesn't want Matthew drinking in Paris like dhshghdfhdhch). Cordelia tastes freedom for the first time when driving with Matthew. Matthew caught James and Cordelia making out in the room and was pissed but not even HE properly knew why then??? Umm, when she thinks James is forreal cheating with Grace on her she subconsciously goes to Matthew??? I also found it funny just how every intimate marital moment between her and James got interrupted somehow. Like, it's as if the narrative is just a living force REFUSING to let James and Cordelia as a ship be consecrated. Heck, every time Matthew is scantily clothed Cordelia notes it. LITTLE CRUMBS I TELL YOU LITTLE CRUMBS.

I tell you when Cordelia showed up to Matthew's flat I thought they were gonna f*ck as friends but I got SOMETHING EVEN BETTER SOMEHOW

THEY ARE GOING TO PARIS LA BELLE EPOQUE PARIS THE PARIS OF DREAMS AND ART LIKE??? FRICKKKKK I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AT ALLLL MAN? I deadass thought the story would be restrained to the UK but like it MAKES SENSE the trope subversion MAKES SENSE.

“In Paris, with you, I will not need to forget.” SHITTRGEGGGDG

BUT CORDELIA LOVES JAMES TOO LIKE I CAN'T DENY THAT... where are we GOING with this like Matthew wouldn't lie about his feelings and yet Cassie wouldn't give us Matthew and Cordelia crumbs to only end it in the next book immediately for her to just ditch him for James. I mean she was clearly holding back on fleshing out James and Cordelia as a ship for this but to WHAT END??? Daisy feels wild and free with Matthew and she feels warm at home warm with James. I can’t advocate for the sinking of ANY ship here.

Imma say what we're all thinking: Is she gonna give us a Will x Jem x Tessa type situation where Cordelia gets both of them cus I'm not strong enough for this but I also think it'd be really funny if James gets a surprise bi awakening in the next books and then we get POLY even tho this would never happen, it’s actually impossible, because of the whole parabatai thing.

Listen I ship Cordelia and Matthew much more than Cordelia and James, not that I dislike James in any way tho. It's just: Matthew is so unrestrained and she's so composed. They seem like an unlikely pair so it makes sense that they hit harder for me. James and Cordelia have such similar personalities but I ALSO don't ship James with Grace at all so like?? Poly would be... ideal... but it can’t happen especially cus they are fricking parabatai... a Will-Jem-Tessa situation seems more likely but mannnn ion know what to expect. I just want FAIRSTAIRS to have their moment in Paris. I mean James and Matthew clearly don't abhor each other for this.

Take everything I say with several grains of salt, take everything I say with the whole Dead Sea actually, cus I damn well know that Matthew is so flirty and whatnot that I’d have shipped him with anyone in their little circle but now that she set him up with Cordelia it all feels so right?? I have wanted this man in a good relationship since he walked onto the page in Nothing But Shadows so-

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I can't believe Cassia duped me like this omg, Matthew is gonna have his healing arc in Paris with Cordelia by his side like- THIS IS ALL I HAVE WANTED AND SO MUCH MORE. Question to yall btw: are you all as surpised at Fairstairs as me or did yall see it coming all along like smart people? Am I a lone clown? 🥺

BRUH okay criticisms of CC?:

Lmfao a part of me feels like I GOTTA say something bad about CC or the book but honestly I have no objective complaints about it as of now. Am I saying that it’s the PEAK of Young Adult literature and Urban Fantasy? I mean, I make no such claims tbh. I’m not here to be critical when I read as a hobby and when CC’s writing makes me happy regardless of how flawed some people see it.

Okay what next?

So like I’m excited for the adult high fantasy she’s releasing in the fall and whatever other works she might be releasing outside of Chain of Gold within the Chronicles.

As for TLH itself? Man I’m just VIBING like I suspect I will reread Chain of Iron soon and maybe one of the anthologies just because I am happy that this series actually happened after me waiting like 6 years for it when it was just a concept: a Dickensian retelling filled with poetry and culture and history and the conventions I so loved in TID at age 12. This is all I been wanting tbh. I’m just enjoying watching this series come to fruition for it to inspire and transform me in some way. I feel like in a way my coming-of-age aligns with that of these specific characters yet I ALSO feel like I raised Jamie since infancy. Wack.

MATTHEW AND CORDELIA IN FRANCE LA BELLE EPOQUE TO BE EXACT IMMA CRY I DID NOT SEE THIS COMING AND AHHHHHH. ALSO WILL AND JAMIE GOING TO CORNWALL TO GET LUCIE AND MAYBE BOND I LOVE WILL. HE WAS ONE OF MY DILF AWAKENINGS AT AGE 12 AND NOW HE’S HERE AGAIN IMMA CRY. I WANNA SEE MATTHEW GET HAPPY. AHHH.

Ending with a fun quote: “In the wise words of someone or other, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, Maurice.” 😉

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walpurga-nacht-academy · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER I

Phone Call: Birthday Girl, Rosalia Morgainne

Walpurga Nacht Computer Lab

[Ring, Ring]

Rosa: Th-The phone is ringing! That's gotta be Vil, I bet! He always makes sure to leave a message every year, but since we've gotten closer lately ma-maybe...

Ah! It's been ringing for a while now! If I don't answer now, he might get mad and stop calling. [clears throat] Vil-

Rook: Ah, Reine de la Passion!

Rosa: Ro-Rook?!

Rook: Ah, to think that you would be kind enough to remember my name despite our brief meeting. Hm, but they do indeed say that the heart grows fonder and fonder despite the treacherous distance and thus-

Rosa: Why are you the one that's calling?!

Rook: Hm?

Rosa: Eh, I mean... Uh, wh-why are you the one that is giving me a call instead of Vi- I mean! Maybe other people are, um, trying to call and, uh...

Rook: Oh? So you are displeased with my presence? Ah, how truly disheartening.

Rosa: N-No! I wouldn't go so far, but-

Rook: But?

Rosa: It's true that I have been lo-looking forward for somebody else to call...

Rook: Mm, oui, I understand.

Rosa: Yo-You do?! How?! I mean- It's not that I'm in love or anything like that! I just, um, admire him a lot and re-really look up to him so don't go thinking we-weird things or-

Rook: Have no fear, Reine de la Passion. I completely understand.

Rosa: Re-Really?

Rook: Oui! Monsieur Tough Guy is rather impressive indeed. I'm certain he would be just as touched by your confession as I have been.

Rosa: Huh?! Tough guy?! Who's that?!

Rook: Hm? Am I perhaps mistaken? Is the object of your affections not-

Rosa: Do-Don't say anything else! Just forget about it! Just don't say anything! O-Or you'll get cu-cursed for real! Got it?!

Rook: Aaaaah, what fighting spirit! Très bien! I'm completely overwhelmed!

Rosa: Stop it! Stop talking! It's embarrassing!!

Chapter II

Rosa: Rook!

Rook: Hm? You call my name so ferociously it makes me shiver. I wonder just what could it be?

Rosa: Why are you the one who's calling me today?

Rook: Oh? Is it that bothersome to you?

Rosa: Bothersome... It's more like weird! I don't get why you'd call to be honest with you!

Rook: Mm, what a charming and straightforward answer! I'm very pleased!

Rosa: Eh? Just what-

Rook: As for your question - Vil has informed me that you are celebrating this wonderful accomplishment and I simply couldn't restrain myself from calling to congratulate you.

Rosa: I-Is that so? I see... Ah! But th-that means that Vil didn't actually forget about it either...

Rook: Hm? Of course not! Vil has even taken the precaution to send you a gift in advance just to make sure it will arrive on your birthday.

Rosa: He really went through that trouble...

Rook: Non, non! It was no trouble at all! This sort of gesture is but expected from childhood friends such as you!

Rosa: Childhood friends... Hm, I wonder if I could call us that. Back then I used to really buy into the whole TV persona that was set up for me... No, the one I set up for myself so I don't really understand Vil all that much either. I used to believe that things really worked in black and white so I never questioned anything I did... I'm sure that to other people this must have been annoying too, and yet Vil didn't turn me away when I tried to contact him...

I wonder if I had been a little more willful back then too... Maybe then...

Rook: Reine de la Passion?

Rosa: ! Don't li-listen to what I'm saying! I'm rambling! Just rambling! Forget about it! Ok?! Promise?! Please!

Rook: To be begged with such ferocity - Oui! This is magnifique as well!

Rosa: I don't get it but as long as you keep quiet it's fine with me!!

Chapter III

Rosa: Ah, to think it turned out this way when I just wanted one simple phone call...

Rook: Hm? Is something the matter?

Rosa: Huh? No, it's nothing, just... This is not the kind of birthday I'm used to that's all.

Rook: Oh? Is that so?

Rosa: Mm. Usually, I get phone calls from my mother and father to congratulate me, and my agent too. They all like to have video chats with me too, but the signal is spotty here so the best we can do is the computer lab. Then I sometimes make a thank you message for all my fans to show them how happy I am for their support and gifts.

Though this year there wasn't really any of that.

But that's ok!! I'm not upset at all about that! I mean it! Because I know that even if it's just mom and dad and my agent, it's still a wonderful birthday celebration!

Rook: What an optimistic way of looking at it! Truly wonderful!

Rosa: Hehe, you think so? Though I guess it really did end up being a great day regardless since you and Jack and Vil called - Even Neige!

Rook: Roi de Neige as well?

Rosa: Hm? You know Neige too? Are you a fan?

Rook: Ah, well- To think that Reine de la Passion is so familiar with Roi de Neige!

Rosa: Eh? You think so? Well, we've known each other since we were kids so I guess it's not that strange. He always does gift me a little song on my birthday which I think is cute, hehe!

I do make sure to pay it back on his birthday as well!

Rook: Aaaah! To hear Roi de Neige's voice on your birthday! Fortune does indeed smile on the lucky ones!

Rosa: Huh? What do you mean? Though I guess that it's a pretty nice gift - Ah, but this year the cactus Jack got for me had to be the best! I wasn't sure what to do with it at first, but now I've gotten used to it and the sight of it really cheers me up every morning!

Rook: Mm. A wonderful expression of love has found its roots even in the shifting sands of the ocean - Oui! Très bien! It's truly a wonderful experience!

Rosa: Experience? What are you talking about? I don't get it at all!

Rook: Non, no need to fret, Reine de la Passion! This is simply my poor observation and nothing else.

Rosa: Ah, well, if you say so... But if you're making fun of me-!

Rook: Non, I would never dream of it! Though in any case, I wish to once again wish you a wonderful birthday! In order to celebrate I have composed this poem for you!

Rosa: Wah?! Uuuuh, why did I know it would end up like this!

#queue #rosalia morgainne #twisted wonderland fanschool #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland #twist #twist oc #twisute #twisute oc #walpurga nacht academy #rook hunt #birthday phone call

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sir-elyan · 4 years

Text

Catalysts & Changes: a 15x16 Meta

I wanted to talk really quickly about Dean’s change this season, especially regarding 15x16.

My main focus of this meta is to talk about Mary’s impact on Dean being the catalyst for this change we’ve been seeing, but I’m also going to be mentioning some Cas/destiel things to tie into this. So, here we go:

I. Mary as Catalyst & Myth

Mary is Dean’s reason. By that I mean that literally the whole reason Dean hunts--or, rather, continues to hunt, since John honestly forced it on him--was all in the hopes of catching what killed Mary. That was the main purpose of season 1, other than finding John. This is Dean’s motivation, his basis as a character.

Dean has also mentioned on multiple occasions that Mary was why he was brave, why he kept fighting, and that he often thought about her.

Dean: I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But see, my mom...I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day (1.03 Dead in the Water)

Remember this quote, because I think it’s eerily similar to the one in 15.16 that I’ll talk about later in this post.

This makes sense--she’s his mom, he should be affected in some way about her death. But Dean takes it to the extreme, based his life around it, held on to it for far too long. Sam was different, because he never actually knew Mary, and we know from earlier seasons that their feelings about her are pretty different.

Meanwhile, almost any time Dean has dreamt of something ideal, Mary was there (think of his djinn dream in 2.20 where Mary never died, and in heaven in 5.16). We can especially see that this is true because of what Amara said in Gimme Shelter:

Dean: What was the point?

Amara: I wanted two things for you, Dean. I wanted you to see that your mother was just a person. That the myth you’d held onto for so long of a better life, a life where she’d lived, was just that: a myth. I wanted you to see that the real, complicated Mary, was better than your childhood dream because she was real. That now is always better than then. That you could finally start to accept your life. (15.15 Gimme Shelter)

Here, Amara was anticipating a turning point. She had wanted Dean to be “released” by having Mary back, but obviously this didn’t happen. Instead, Mary’s death was once again the catalyst for Dean’s change, just like it was the first time when Azazel killed her. We can also see from this that Dean has always been stuck in the past, hence Amara telling him that he should be focusing on now, instead. Another thing to note for future reference is the “real” line. Remember Cas saying “we are” when Dean asks him what is real.

Mary was also not exactly what Sam or Dean--hell, not even the viewers--had been expecting when she returned. She was scared, alone, and had trouble dealing with being back in a new century with her little boys all grown up and even worse-- hunting. But Dean eventually accepted this. He accepted the real version of Mary, but continued to idolize her and bring up the past.

II. Mary’s Death

Now let’s take a look at what’s happened since Mary’s second death:

Denial. Dean hopes Mary isn’t actually dead, even though all signs point to this.

Grief. Dean cries alone at the site of her death.

Blame. Dean blames Jack and Cas for what happened.

During and after the funeral, Dean avoids talking about it with anyone. However, he is obviously affected by her death. Sam even holds Cas back from going to Dean while burning the pyre. Bobby makes a comment about Dean being a lot like him and not wanting to show his feelings to others.

These all sound like the Dean that’s been built up since season 1. Not dealing with his feelings properly at all, pushing people away, denial. The one thing that makes this time different from other deaths, though, is that--just like the first time Mary died--there's no body to bring back. It's implied in 14.19 that if there had been, Dean would have tried, because he even tells Sam:

Note: This is also an episode where we see Jack being a mirror for Dean by doing exactly that--doing everything in his power to try to bring Mary back by himself. It doesn’t work; Mary’s gone for good. And she’s happy--she’s in heaven!

In addition to there not being a body, Dean also knows who did it. It's not some unidentifiable yellow-eyed demon that he can spend years tracking down, it's Jack. It's his son, it's someone he can't and won't kill, because he's family, even if he’s guilty. So Dean has no outlet for his rage except to put blame on not only Jack, but Cas (specifically in 15.03 The Rupture, Jack is dead at this point and he pushes Cas away for several episodes). And here is where Dean begins to change.

III. The Shift: Anger, Apologies, and Forgiveness

Because then, in 15.09 The Trap, there is a big, significant shift. Dean forgives Cas:

Dean: You’re my best friend, but I just let you go. ‘Cause it was easier than admitting I was wrong.

He cries, looks around, and gets on his knees.

Dean: I don’t know why I get so angry. I just know-I just know that it’s just always been there. And when things go bad, it just-it comes out. And I can’t- I can’t stop it. No matter how--how bad I want to, I just can’t stop it. And I forgive you, of course I forgive you. I’m sorry it took me so long to...I’m sorry it took me ‘til now to say it. (15.09 The Trap)

This is an incredibly important scene because it shows that Dean knows about his anger--the anger that Amara talks about in 15x15, and he wants to stop it.

Amara: I thought having [Mary] back would release you...put that fire out. Your anger. But I guess we both know I failed at that.

Dean: You’re damn right. (15.15 Gimme Shelter)

After this, Dean clarifies that he’s not only angry, but furious. This is change, this is change caused directly by Mary’s death--by Amara bringing her back again. Dean might say he is furious, but he has also said before that he wants to stop his anger. And, in many ways, he’s been taking steps towards doing that:

For example, here in 15.09 when Dean forgives Cas, (gif credit)

and here in 15.14 when he tells Jack he’s trying to forgive him for killing Mary, (gif credit)

and again in 15.16 for not telling Sam and Caitlin about the dead bodies when they were younger (gif credit)

and most recently, at the end of 15.16, when he didn’t tell Sam about Jack dying. (gif credit)

So now we’ve taken the turn towards forgiveness. Dean has been handing out apologies and forgiveness like never before this season, which is a definite change to how it used to be with him. He’s opening up, and he is trying to do better and be better than before. Billie also tells him this at the diner:

(gif credit)

I’m inclined here to believe that Dean is on that road to forgiveness with Jack. I mean, he said it himself in 15.14 that he’s trying, and Cas also vouched for him when Jack asked if forgiveness from Dean was a possibility. So in 15.16, when Dean says they have “no choice” but to let Jack die, it’s not because it doesn’t haunt him. It clearly does, with the entire episode dealing with Dean coping with the deaths of children, even his brother. He doesn’t want Jack to die, but his anger, his fury towards Chuck is taking precedence over that. It’s something he wants to change, but feels like he has no choice in the matter.

To add on to this, Jack has been a clear mirror for Dean this entire season. Dean’s argument with Sam about them having no choice is an indication of this. Just an episode prior in 15.15, Jack told Cas that the choice wasn’t his whether or not Jack died. So the pair ups in 15.17 aren’t all that surprising. With the episode being titled “Unity,” I think that the four of them will reach an agreement by the end of the episode (I keep mentioning agreements in all of my metas, because I think Chuck/Amara and Sam/Eileen’s agreement had important implications, but alas...), and be unified in a new plan to defeat Chuck.

As for Dean? I don’t think his ending is going to be expected. He is changing--he won’t be making the same decisions he used to make in earlier seasons.

I also find it fascinating that they made 15.16 a flashback episode to their past as children. Not only did 15.16 show us Dean being annoyed by sex, ignoring a possible love interest (which we were right as an audience to assume it would be written that way, because it has been so many times before), and how he’s dealing with the prospect of Jack’s death (with all of the imagery of dead children), but it really brought to light how much Dean has changed.

The most obvious way they showed us this was through this scene with Caitlin (who looks eerily like a young Mary...interesting), who says this:

(gif credit)

Dean: Always am.

Caitlin: You have changed. The old you never would have admitted that.

Dean: Well, I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Caitlin: I think so. What do they say about getting older? You tell the truth more because lies...they don’t make anything better. (15.16 Drag Me Away (From You))

Now, ignoring the fact that Dean has admitted this (in 1.03), we know that the only time he has admitted to being scared before was in relation to Mary. But I think what the writers were going for here was not only to highlight Dean’s recent character growth by admitting to Caitlin that he’s changed, but also the running theme of lying this season. I’ve said it before that Sam has been the only one telling the truth in s15, and I think it’ll eventually come into play during the final episodes. The truth/lies aspect will become a central plot point--I mean, it already is. But I think it’ll factor into how the show will end as a whole, especially with this episode and previous ones alluding to normalcy and the possibility of it for Sam.

I’m going to finish this here, because I’ve dragged on too long, but some other (destiel) things to note are:

Dean falling to his knees in the hallway as a parallel to falling on his knees in Purgatory, praying to Cas, apologizing.

Dean cutting off Baba Yaga’s fingers, whereas Cas restored a woman’s fingers in 15x15. The pastor telling Cas that people are god’s hands; they lift each other up with each finger. The implications of Dean cutting people off, and Cas bringing people together.

another amazing meta regarding 15.16 and another about dean changing + 15.16

#i have literally spent HOURS on this #im so sorry it's so long oh my god #supernatural meta #rambleoncas meta #spn 15x16 #spn spoilers #spn #supernatural #destiel #dean winchester #roc original #my post

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copias-thrall · 4 years

Text

Worth

Things have been Not Great, so I wrote an angsty Mary fic to cope.

FYI: this is not a lighthearted, heart-of-gold Mary fic. He’s kind of an asshole, and there are some heavy themes.

*brief domestic abuse (not Mary); angst; recreational drug use*

It happened after an impromptu party at her place.

The bars had closed, but no one was ready to stop—so everyone had grabbed some beers and snacks from the all-nighter and headed back to her place. Friends of friends were called, and suddenly at 4am there were maybe 30 people in the cramped 3 bedroom in a run-down house she shared, complete with a DJ and speakers. They'd partied even after the sun came up, too drunk or high to give a shit.

When she passed out around 11am, there were still 10 or so people grinding on each other or playing a slapped-together game of beer pong in the living room.

Waking up at 4pm had been a disconcerting experience, but at least she wasn't too hungover. She’d shuffled out to the living room to assess the damage (lots of trash, but fortunately no irreparable damage)—and that's when she heard noises in the kitchen.

She’d made her way there and saw a skinny punk boy with floppy hair and smeared makeup making eggs on her stove. Upon her arrival, he’d turned and said,

“Oh, hey. You want some?”

And that’s how she became friends with Mary.

***

He was suddenly around all the time.

Sometimes he’d show up early evening with a 6-pack, and the two of them would smoke weed, or play video games, or she’d listen to him pontificate about the musical artist of the week he was mainlining before he left to troll the bars.

Sometimes he’d show up on her couch in the morning, sleeping off the night before, and she’d have to coax him up with coffee and the promise of bacon before he stumbled back out into the world to do whatever it was that Marys do during the daytime.

For a while he became something of an unofficial roommate to everyone—sometimes bringing supplies, other times eating what wasn’t his; sometimes leaving a mess of dishes in the sink, other times taking out the trash—but always her friend first.

That all changed the night one of her roommates gave the couch to a friend from out-of-town. There’d been a soft knocking at her door, and then Mary was slipping into her room.

“Hey.”

“You mind if I sleep on your floor?”

She’d looked down at the space rug that she hadn’t vacuumed in months.

“I don’t mind scooting over. But you have to lose some layers. I don’t want your denim pressing into me all night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

He’d hesitantly stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers before sliding into the space she’d made for him. There’d been some jostling, but Mary had kept his hands to himself.

The friend had finally left the couch, but Mary never left her bed.

Now when he needed a place to crash, he crawled in through her window in the middle of the night to slip into bed with her. (And maybe there was some snuggling—but two friends sharing a twin was perfectly normal, right?) He suddenly seemed to prefer hanging out in her room—chilling cross legged on her mattress as he packed a bowl or they cued up a movie on Netflix—only showing his face in the common rooms anymore when there was food to be had.

Her other roommates even remarked on his lack of presence, to which she’d shrugged. He was her friend, after all.

One morning changed everything.

She’d woken up from a steamy sex dream still unsatisfied—still wet and throbbing between her legs. Half awake, she’d mewled in frustration and rolled onto her stomach, hand reaching down between her body and the bed so she could rock into it.

“Um.”

At the sound of Mary’s voice, she’d frozen. Suddenly fully awake, she’d snatched her hand back up, scrambled to the other side of the bed, and plastered herself against the wall.

“I was just! It wasn’t! I didn’t know …”

Mary was lying stock still, face flushed and very obviously affected. Seeing where her gaze had landed, his hands had flown to cover his erection.

“Uh. Sorry. But you were … you know.”

She’d quickly gone from mortified to fascinated.

“That … turned you on?”

His blush deepened.

“Well … yeah.”

“Why?”

He’d gone to gesture, remembered his predicament, didn’t.

“You were touching yourself. I mean. I thought maybe you were having a nightmare and then …” He’d shrugged. “Kinda hot.”

“You thought it was hot? Even though it’s me?” She didn’t think someone like Mary could find someone like her attractive. That’s why he’d never hit on her, right?

“Even though you’re my friend?”

“Because I’m. Me.” She’d swept her hands up and down her body.

He’d rolled onto his side and carefully arranged the sheets to cover him. She’d watched as his hand reached out to rest on her knee.

“You’re very attractive.”

She’d scoffed at him. “I have a mirror. You don’t need to patronize me.”

His hand had scooted up to her thigh, and he’d looked up at her. Her heart had begun to pound just as all the blood that wasn’t already between her legs rushed through her ears.

“Do you … want me … to show you how attractive I find you?”

His hand had slowly traveled up the leg, and was now resting on her sweaty inner thigh. Adrenaline was coursing through her—making it hard to verbalize her need for him to keep going—so when she’d opened her mouth, all that had come out was a whimper. Still looking up at her, Mary had pressed his thumb with unnerving accuracy into her clit.

Like it had been a release valve, she’d let out a long whine as her body opened up. His thumb had continued to pet at her clit through her dampening panties, and she’d rocked into his touch, legs splaying wide.

And maybe it was because she’d been so worked up already. Or maybe it was because it had been so long since someone else had touched her. Maybe it was the dangerous expression on Mary’s face … but she’d cum in no time—her clit bubbling as she twitched and groaned to each pulsing wave.

Before she’d had time to come down—or feel embarrassed—Mary was on her, all previous attempts at modesty gone as he’d pressed his hard-on into her thigh.

“Can I fuck you?” he’d mouthed into her neck.

Her first instinct had been to tell him “yes” … but it had been so long since anything bigger than a finger had been in her, and she’d hesitated. Feeling her tense, Mary had backed off.

“Or, I could just jack off.”

“No—I …” she’d wiggled around and kicked off her sticky panties. “Thighs ok?”

Mary had eagerly pressed into her back. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. Wanna feel how wet you are.”

There had been some wiggling around on his part—to divest himself of his boxers, she’d supposed—and then she’d felt as his dick eased between her closed thighs. He’d grunted, and then his arms came around her: one held her hips steady while he thrust, the other grazed and pinched at her nipples through her nightshirt.

“So hot,” he’d said as his lips smeared down her neck. “Wanted you for a while.” They came back up to press behind her ear.

All she’d been able to manage in return was a gasp as his clever fingers worked at her body—his free hand grazing her nipples and his steadying hand slipping down to rub at her clit again. Panting, he’d brought her to climax once more before clutching her tightly to him so he could finally pump himself to release as well.

Wheezing into her shoulder, Mary’s hips had finally stuttered, and he’d let out a breathy moan right before she’d felt the wetness of his cum start to drip down her thighs. Languidly, he’d rocked his hips as he worked himself through the aftershocks; then,his arms had loosened their hold, and he’d sighed before placing a quick kiss to the back of her neck.

“Good?”

Her head was spinning, and she’d murmured out a “Yeah.”

He’d shifted around, his arms withdrawing from her space.

“C’mon, let’s go back to sleep. Still early.”

“But the mess …” she’d begun, but he’d just pulled her onto his chest.

“Later.”

Mary had fallen asleep immediately, but she’d lain awake wondering what whatever the fuck had just happened meant.

***

Neither of them really talked about it later, but Mary had stopped showing up just to hang. Instead, she’d leave her window open, and most nights he’d crawl through her window in the AM and stick around for breakfast. A fresh box of condoms (since the existing ones in her underwear drawer were 5yrs old) and a few solo practice sessions later had her back on the horse. Mary had relished the full access to her body, delighting in fucking her lazily while he played her body—his mouth sucking on all the right spots while his hands and fingers teased at her other erogenous zones.

He always made sure she came before he did—often multiple times—before finally letting loose and using her body to get off. He always seemed so desperate for it, and she was happy to let him use her—afterward contently sighing into his chest while basking in the afterglow as his arms wrapped around her. It was nice to be wanted, to be touched—even if she missed the part where the two of them drank shitty beer and talked shit while gaming.

When she voiced her regret to her roommate, they had just rolled their eyes at her.

“Have you been out of the game that long? He was courting you then. That’s just how men are. Don’t worry about it.”

So, she tried not to.

***

It’s one of those nights she feels the stirring to go out. She tries to coax one of her roomies to come with her, but they all beg off with the excuse of work in the morning.

“I do too! We don’t have to stay super late!”

But they remain unmoved.

So, she shimmies into the dress that makes her feel the best about herself, pust her face on, and goes out for a drink.

The bar is moderately crowded when she gets there, and she makes a beeline for the electronic jukebox, determined to get some of her bops into the queue so maybe she’ll even get to hear them before she leaves.

Satisfied, she approaches the bar to order a chocolate porter. And hey, wait!—she recognizes that shape across the bar! As her eyes adjust, she's even more certain that it’s Mary. A smile breaks out on her face—she can’t wait to surprise him after she gets her beer.

Pint glass in hand, she makes her way through the bodies to the other side of the bar to where Mary is talking to the pink-haired woman next to him. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t notice her standing in front of him. In fact, it’s the woman he’s talking to who notices her first.

“Um, hello?” says Pink Hair.

“Oh. I … just wanted to say hi to Mary.”

Mary looks over at her, but his expression is guarded.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey!”

Pink Her takes an exaggerated sip of her cocktail.

“Did you need something? Because I’m kinda busy here,” he says.

She can feel her smile fall. “Oh. O-ok. I just thought …”

“Look, I’ll catch you later or something, ok?”

Her stomach turns to ice. “Oh, um. Ok, sure.” She starts to say that she’ll be here for a bit, but he’s already turning back around, a smile breaking on his face just for Pink Hair as his hand goes to res on the woman’s knee.

As she stiffly walks away, she hears Pink Hair say, “Who was that?” and Mary respond, “Just some girl who follows me around. You know how it is.”

On autopilot—heart making a rapid tattoo against her ribs—she makes her way to an open high-top. Her good mood has evaporated like water during a scorcher. The sensible thing to do would be to go home—but she hates herself, so she stands there, nursing her beer and trying to make it look like she’s not zeroed in on Mary and his … friend? No need to think the worst. Maybe Pink Hair’s having a rough day and Mary’s listening to her. He’s good like that.

Her bubble of delusion pops when she sees him lean in to kiss Pink Hair’s neck. When his mouth meets the woman’s, her heart officially drops into her stomach … but for some reason she can’t seem to look away. She feels an almost destructive need to make herself see this.

The two of them make out for a bit before Mary puts a bill on the bar and they start to make their way to the exit. For half a second Mary’s eyes catch hers across the bar … and then they slide away, his hand on the small of Pink Hair’s back as they leave together.

She watches the door for a long time after they disappear. She wonders if she’s going to be sick.

Beer unfinished, she sluggishly makes her way to the door, no longer interested in a night out. As she walks home in a daze, she keeps replaying the entire thing over and over in her head to the extent that she walks half a block past her apartment.

Her roommates are still up when she makes it inside, but she just mumbles out a “Hey” and goes straight to her room. For several minutes she just stands there, unsure of the next action to take: change clothes? smash things? brush her teeth? cry?

She ends up walking over to her window. Instead of lifting the pane open, she makes sure it’s closed all the way before thumbing the latch to locked. To make a further statement, she pulls her curtains shut. Mechanically, she undresses and crawls into bed—she'll brush her teeth in the morning.

It’s only because she's still awake—her brain unable to shut off—that she hears it: little plinks. At first she wonders if it’s raining, and then she realizes something is hitting the window pane. A glance at her clock tells her it’s 3:56am.

Even though she already knows what she'll find, she sloughs over to the window and parts the curtains. There’s Mary in his leather jacket, arm raised as if to throw another pebble. He grimaces at her, then motions for her to open the window.

But she's just some girl, so she closes the curtains again and gets back into bed.

As she lays there, a horrible thought passes through her brain: Is this how it always is? He always shows up around the same time every night. Has … has he been coming to her after he’s had his way with his stunning girl du jour? Is she just a warm bed to sleep in after they kick him out? How many times has she been sloppy seconds? Was he even attracted to her, or were those just pretty words to keep him in her bed?

Rolling over for the hundredth time, she thinks about how he always fucks her with her back pressed into him. She'd always thought it was nice—cuddled up close to Mary, his hands free to touch her everywhere … but now she wonders if it was so he didn’t have to look at her, so he could pretend she was the girl he’d just left.

Well. No more.

The next several days crawl. Her roommates give her a wide berth, waiting for her to say something … or not. Every night around 4am, she hears the telltale plink of detritus hitting her window, but she doesn't show her face again.

She wishes he’d just go away.

And then he does, and she wishes she knew what she wanted.

***

She never does say anything to her roommates, but with her mood and the lack of a Mary Goore, they put two-and-two together. They arrange movie nights with vodka and popcorn; they drag her out to clubs that play booty music; they snarl at any man who dares approach her.

She'd never met Mary before her house party, and now it’s like she can’t go to a bar without running into him. The first couple of times, her friends and roommates had barred him from interacting with her with hissed words and thinly-veiled threats, and he’d backed off. But as the leeway around The Event wears off, she eventually has to tell him to fuck off herself.

“But I just want to …”

“No. We’re done, Mary.”

“But—”

“Go away. Or I’m gonna grab a bouncer.”

She feels like she already knows what he’s going to say, anyway, and she’s already exhausted. While she never assumed he was her boyfriend, she had assumed they were exclusive. But: it’s not like the two of them ever talked about what they were, so he has her there … and she can’t help feel like he got away on a technicality on that point. Even before he started sharing her bed and then fucking her, Mary was crashing at her place on the reg. Was it so outlandish to think he wasn’t working his way through half the scene before crawling into bed with her?

And what good can he say about the cruel way he’d dismissed her? Perhaps even going out of his way to show her exactly what she meant to him?

As if she were nothing.

Some. Girl.

No. She has nothing more to say to Mary Goore.

***

Mary finally takes the hint. Now when she sees him out, he sends her looks, but doesn’t attempt to talk to her anymore. She knows all she needs to know anyway when she sees him still consistently leaving with a hottie on his arm.

So it’s with some surprise to her that he tries again in a way that takes her completely off guard.

It’s late in the evening, and for once she doesn't see Mary skulking about the bar she's at. A woman approaches her table and asks if she can talk to her. She thinks maybe the woman needs help, or likes her shoes or something—If she'd known what the woman was about, she'd have never agreed.

“What’s up?” she asks when the two of them are alone at a free high-top in the corner.

“I’m one of Mary’s friends, and—”

She scoffs and makes to go, but the woman rests a hand on her arm.

“No! Wait, hear me out.”

The woman’s eyes plead, and—against her better judgement—she stays.

“You’re not going to convince me of anything.”

“Just listen, ok?”

She folds her arms.

“Look, Mary’s really sorry. He’s really torn up about it. You don’t even—”

“I don’t give a shit about how he feels.”

The woman swallows. “He really does feel awful about the misunderstanding, and—”

“No,” she hisses, making a cut off motion with her arm. The woman’s mouth clicks shut. “Fine, I get it—I shouldn’t have assumed I was the only one he was fucking. That’s on me, I guess. But there was no misunderstanding. He wasn’t confused when he pretended I was just some sad little girl mooning after him. And I don’t know if he saw sex with me as repayment for giving him a place to crash or if my spreading my legs for him just an added bonus.” She's pretty sure her face is purple at this point. "But I seriously doubt he didn’t understand that fucking one person and then leaving to fuck another in the same night is not acceptable—especially without telling them.”

“I … he—”

“So I don’t care how many sympathetic friends he gets to do his dirty work, I’m fucking done with him. He can find another warm body to dupe. He certainly doesn’t lack options.” She starts to walk away and then turns back. “This isn’t some version of hard to get. I want him to leave me alone.”

***

She meets Benny at a friend of a friend’s house party. He’s … ok. Kind of pompous and into himself—but charismatic and funny. And if she wasn’t looking to fill the Mary-Shaped void (instead of waiting for it to close on its own) she probably would have just tossed his number. But he focuses his wattage on her, and his eyes take in her body like it’s a treat, so she thinks: what the hell?

As a boyfriend he’s … ok. He takes her out on dates and buys her small trinkets—so she purposefully overlooks that he has to have his own way. And when she’d been upfront about looking for exclusivity, he’d said they both were both on the same page. So what if he has the tendency to talk over her? It’s not like it’s forever.

In bed he’s … ok. Not exactly a thoughtful dynamo, but he touches her body and meets her eyes during sex—and that’s more than she's had in a while. So what if he sometimes makes little comments about what a catch he is and how lucky she is? It’s not like anyone else is asking to be put on her dance card.

He’s not Mary—but what had Mary been, really? Some guy who’d trespassed on her hospitality because she’d been so starved for contact that she confused gratitude for affection.

It’s inevitable that they run into Mary at a bar—she’s surprised it hadn’t happened sooner—but that doesn’t mean she has to like it.

She and Benny are at the bar eating rubbery burgers and decent fried pickle chips with a pitcher of beer to wash it all down when she looks across the bar and catches Mary glowering at her. She ignores him, and she resolves to put him out of her mind.

Her resolution is blown to shit when she comes back from the bathroom and she sees Mary on a stool next to Benny.

“… you hardly have to do anything. Oh hey, babe.”

“Hey.” She climbs back up onto her stool.

He turns to her. “This is—wait for it—Mary.”

Mary’s eyes bore into hers. She sticks her hand across Benny.

“Hi, Mary. Nice to meet you.”

He limply takes her hand, gives it a shake, then lets go.

“I’m gonna hit the head. Try not to talk about me,” says Benny with a wink.

When he’s well out of earshot, Mary lays into her.

“Are you fucking serious with this guy?”

“What’s it to you?” She pops a pickle chip into her mouth.

“He’s an asshole. He was just telling me he dates girls like you because you’re so grateful for the attention that you’ll accept anything.”

She's a little stung that Mary thinks of her as ugly too—some part of her had been holding onto the scrap that maybe Mary hadn’t been lying about finding her attractive.

She continues to graze the pickles.

“Well, I am grateful, Mary. I’m not like you; I don’t have people lined up around the block waiting to fuck me. I was grateful you were willing to fuck me, and I’m grateful he likes touching me.” She locks her gaze with his. “At least he isn’t ashamed to be seen with me in public.”

Mary’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. Benny’s reappearance interrupts his attempt to form a coherent retort.

"Getting acquainted, I see.”

“Sure,” she says.

“No, that’s good.” He turns to grin at her. “See, Mary here came over to express his …” Benny sucks his teeth and gives her a once over. “Interest in what a … healthy-looking girl you are.”

She squints in confusion as Mary’s face shows open shock.

“That’s not what I …” Mary sputters.

Benny puts his hand over hers.

“Do you think we could accommodate him, babe?”

“What?” she spits out as Mary tries to back away as much as he can while still sitting.

Benny looks at Mary and then at her with a knowing glance. His hand comes up to brush at her cheekbone.

“What would you think about me watching him fuck you?”

If it were any other guy, she might have thrown her drink on Benny—but any disgust she feels toward him seems to be overridden by the opportunity to get in a jab at Mary. Glancing over, she pretends to assess him.

“No,” she says with as much haughtiness as she can muster. “He looks like a hobo. I don’t want to catch fleas.”

Mary actually has the audacity to look hurt.

“Well, let it never be said I couldn’t take a hint.”

He slides off the stool and walks away.

“Hey, wait—she didn’t mean …” sputters Benny.

They watch in silence as he exits the bar.

Benny turns to her. “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Why would you?” she retorts as she crams the last of the burger into her maw.

The mood effectively killed, they pay and head out.

The walk back to his place is a quiet one, both of them annoyed at the other for very different reasons. Once in his apartment, she's barely hung up her coat before Benny is laying into her.

“What that fuck was that back there, huh? Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“My ‘gratitude’ has limits, Benny.”

The slap comes out of nowhere. More of an open-handed punch, really. She goes stumbling backwards, momentarily stunned. When her hand touches her face, it comes away with blood from a split lip. When she looks up, Benny is looking at her coldly, but calmly.

“You hit me,” she says, incredulous.

“I think I’ve been really good about restraining myself until now. You know how you are.”

It should say something that she's more annoyed that Mary was right about wasting her time on an asshole like Benny than she is in fear of him.

She grits her teeth.

“We’re fucking done, Benny.”

His face contorts in a journey of annoyance, disbelief, and irritation.

“You think anyone else is going to want you? Just look at you. You’re lucky to have me.”

“Mary wanted me,” she says.

“What?”

“The guy at the bar. For the record, I’ve already fucked him, and he might have bedbugs, but he’s a much better lay.”

Benny, face red, crowds into her space. “Are you really trying to provoke me right now?”

“You’re right. I’m actually leaving.”

“Bitch, you think—” he moves to grab her wrists, but she pushes him, hard.

He stumbles back and trips over his rug, landing on his ass. It would be comical except for the dark look he gives her. Feeling a sudden lance of fear, she goes for the door, knocking the end table over as an extra obstacle for him. She wastes precious seconds yanking hard at her coat as she flees—hearing it tear somewhere as it pulls free—since her phone and her wallet are in the pockets.

She catches a glimpse of him just getting to his feet yelling, “You fucking cunt,” as she slams the door behind her. Heart pounding, she runs up a flight of stairs, hoping to fake him out—but his door slams open just in time for him to see her.

“You never had it so good!” he screams as he climbs after her.

She chances running down the hall on the next floor to get to the back stairwell, but she’s not quick enough. “If you leave don’t expect me to take you back,” she hears as she practically vaults down the next flight. Instead of continuing or booking it back to the main stairwell, she sprints to the turn in the hall and stops—back pressed against the wall, hand across her mouth as she pants.

Benny’s footfalls stop as he reaches the landing to his floor then pause. She can hear him let out a Fuck, and she tenses—ready to claw if he comes around the corner—but he continues on down the hall. It sounds like he searches the main stairwell again, but it’s hard to tell.

She remains there, getting her breathing back under control and listening intently for the telltale sounds he’s checking the back stairs again … but so far: nothing. As she waits to make sure Benny isn’t going to chase after her, she has time to think about what she'd said to goad him. Part of her wonders if she didn’t have it good with Mary after all; the more reasonable part reminds herself that she deserves better than either of them—even if that means no one.

Finally, she hears him stomping and cursing, and then the slam of his door. Even so, she still waits—playing repeating songs over in her head—before craning her head around the L of the hall. Seeing nothing suspicious, she carefully slinks to the back stairs, lightly tiptoeing down them until she reaches the emergency exit. Uncaring about an alarm, she slams it open, making her way into the cooling night air.

She runs all the way home, never stopping to even put on her coat.

***

For months she’d kept her bedroom window closed and locked—not wanting to give Mary the impression that an open window was an invitation—but after his attempts had stopped with his friend’s plea, she'd felt comfortable cracking it open again.

Which is why several days after the incident with Benny, Mary can once again climb through her window. He scares the bejesus out of her—part of her half-asleep brain convinced it’s Benny here to enact retribution.

Something in her eyes must convey her alarm because he blurts out, “Hey, hey—it’s just me.”

She's relieved until she remembers how pissed at him she is.

“What the fuck, Mary.”

“Sorry.”

She sits up in bed and turns on her bedside lamp.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What about my memo didn’t you get?”

He rubs the back of his neck.

“I know—I’m sorry. I just. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“Because I obviously must be wasting away without a dick to fill me?”

He gives her a strange look.

“No. Because of …” He makes a flapping gesture with his hand.

“Because of … what? First word? Sounds like?”

His brows furrow.

“Shit. You don’t know.”

She rubs at her eyes. “It’s fucking late, Mary. Help me out.”

“May I?” he asks as he goes to sit on the edge of her bed.

“No,” she hisses, and he pops back up.

He teeters awkwardly before turning it into a lean against her dresser.

“Benny’s been around. Saying shit.”

“Lemme guess: he’s been talking shit about putting me in my place with a firm hand or something? Maybe that he broke up with me because I’m pathetic? Neither of which are true, by the way.”

Mary actually looks nervous.

“Um. Kinda. But it’s …”

“What?” she snaps.

He takes a deep breath.

“He’s been saying that he found out you were cheating on him so he ‘taught you a lesson’ by ‘destroying your ass’ before kicking you to the curb. He, um. Described it in great detail.”

She stares at Mary, stunned.

“What?”

He rubs his neck again, unable to meet her eyes.

“It’s just. His accuracy … I had to make sure you were ok.”

She realizes she’s balling her fists in her sheet, so she unclenches.

“Oh,” she says. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

“So you are? Ok?”

She rubs her face with her hands.

“I mean, he hit me, but—”

“What?” barks Mary as he looks up at her sharply.

“Yeah. He was pissed I declined to let you fuck me in front of him, so he slapped me. I told him to fuck off and left.”

Mary goes to examine her face before he remembers she's no longer his to touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he backs away again.

“I’m fine, Mary. Just a split lip. Practically healed. You didn’t even notice it.”

“Well, you’re light’s fucking dim. You didn’t even notice …” He trails off.

“Notice what, Mary?”

“Nothing.”

“Notice. What?”

He sighs and holds out his hands. She sees immediately that his knuckles are bruised and bloody.

“Mary! Your hands!”

Before she can stop herself, she shoots up and grabs his hands to examine the damage.

“What happened?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She squints up at him, feeling like she already knows the answer.

“Tell me.”

He sighs.

“True or not, I just couldn’t let that douche talk shit about you in public. I wasn’t the only one, either, you know—you have more friends that you think you do. A couple of us … drove home that he needed to shut the fuck up and move on.”

She hates that she feels thankful, but she is.

And then he has to go and ruin the moment by saying, “I’m not really boyfriend material, you know.”

She lets his hands go.

“That’s such a fucking cop out, Mary. An excuse to keep you from responsibility.”

He makes a frustrated noise.

“I have friends and I have people I fuck. I’m not …. I don’t have friends I fuck.”

The old feelings of righteous indignation flare up.

“Then why? We could have written off that first morning as a one off. Laughed about it as half-asleep shenanigans. Why keep fucking me?”

His head thunks back against the wall.

“Because I was fucking selfish, ok? Sleeping next to you for weeks without touching you was a special kind of torture. I didn’t think I could go back to that. And I wanted … I wanted you to feel good. That’s what I’m good at: making people feel good. You think that you’re this troll who’s lucky if someone looks at you, and I needed to show you that you’re not. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean you aren’t hot, ok? Your problem isn’t that you’re ‘ugly’—it’s that you refuse to believe anyone could be into you. You miss what’s right in front of you—and I don’t even mean me.”

Her lather gets up.

“Well, congrats: you did, you asshole. You made me feel like I could be worth something. You came by and talked to me about shit and slept in my bed and touched me like I wasn’t a gross beach ball. And then you,” tears suddenly well in her eyes, “and then you treated me like trash. You tell me you wanted to show me I was worth something, but then you treated me like I was some delusional fangirl—like you weren’t coming here and fucking me every night—so you could go home with a fucking goth model. You made sure you weren’t even subtle. Was I ever more than just the after party, Mary? Some place to slink to after the main event so you didn’t have to go home?”

Piece said, she scrubs her eyes and sniffles at Mary. He only stares back at her as the minutes start to tick by uncomfortably.

Just when she's given up on getting a response from him, he says,

“I just assumed you understood who I was.”

She waits for more. Anything else.

But that’s it. That’s all he has to say.

“I didn’t, but I do now,” she says tiredly. “And I deserve better than your paltry offering.”

Again, he has the audacity to look hurt.

She settles herself back into her covers.

“I appreciate you beating the shit out of Benny, but I really do wish you’d leave me alone. My open window just means I’d like some fresh air.”

“I—”

“Leave,” she hisses as she drapes her arm over her eyes.

It takes a moment, but then she hears Mary shuffle over to the window and scramble out of it.

And then all she hears is the wind blowing through the trees.

Epilogue

And that could be the end of it.

It certainly feels like the end of the 2yr entanglement with Mary Goore. He seems to disappear from her life just as suddenly as he arrived. Everyone around her vows to hate him on principle even if she suspects a few of them still smoke with him.

One of her roommates moves out, and one that she ends up hating moves in.

She gets a new job, and has a brief affair with a colleague that ends in tears when he realizes he actually is ready to marry his ex.

Once or twice she Googles Mary, but he has zero social media presence—just a few blurry, red-eyed pics of him with other people from the scene.

She moves into a place with another girl from work.

Two of her friends get married to each other.

She pays off her student debt and buys a modest place.

Occasionally she hears mention of one of his shenanigans, but never anything substantial. Never anything about his lovers.

More of her friends get married.

She finds herself missing the days when she could do casual shots with roommates and still be fresh for work the next day.

She dates every asshole her dating app has to offer before deleting them all and buying some very nice toys.

Sometimes she goes out to her old haunts and watches the social shit show with fondness.

Mary becomes like that song: someone she used to know.

Until …

He isn’t.

It’s in that Japanese coffee shop of all places that she finally sees him—the man behind the myth—again. She’s tapping away at her laptop, latte in hand, when she sees him in line. At first, she doesn’t even think it’s him.

She thinks, “Huh. That dude looks like Mary Goore.” But the longer she stares, the more she realizes that it is Mary Goore.

Mary used to be a skinny-ass noodle boy. His hair was always greasy and flaky with product. Even when clean, his clothes were covered in stains and holes. His leather jacket was dull with half the lining ripped away, and his Docs were covered in black duct tape. Under his makeup, his face was handsome, but covered in acne.

This … man is still very slender, but his shoulders have broadened, and she thinks she can detect a little potbelly. His hair is still styled, but it looks clean. He looks clean. His leather jacket looks lived in, but is still shiny. The black jeans are still molded onto his legs … but the only rips are at his knees and—unlike the only pair she ever saw him wear—don’t look like they’d ooze oil if you pressed hard. The ends are tucked into boots that—while scuffed—aren’t cracked or peeling. When he turns to stare absently at the wall, she can see that his face has filled out a bit, but the makeup is more subtle—still white in pallor, but instead of clunky skull accents, his eyes and cheeks are sleek and contoured.

The old feeling of longing stirs in her gut.

It’s why, stupidly, instead of being satisfied with just this glimpse, she says (in a hesitant, wavering voice), “Mary?” after he gets his order. She doesn't know why she does this to herself. It’s not like she wants to hear about his marriage or his kids. Or worse—how he’s still giving it away for free like that’s all he’s worth.

Despite various diets and exercise regimes, she's only grown more womanly—but she's learned that what Mary told her all those years ago was truth: she was the only thing cockblocking herself.

To-go cup in hand, he swivels his head this way and that, trying to find the source of his name. His gaze glosses right over her, and she doesn't quite have the courage to call out to him again. But then his eyes land on her and focus—and then he breaks out in a huge grin that opens up his whole face, that shows the fine lines his placid look was hiding.

“Oh my god. Is that you?”

She blushes and nods. He saunters over and half sits against the opposite stool. His eyes travel her up and down. She’s only a little self-conscious that he’s managed to glow-up while she's merely discovered the miracle of a tailor and Vaseline.

“You look great,” he says in a soft voice.

She waves away the compliment. “Look at you! Did you go into modeling or something?”

He snorts at her. “I—well … I guess there’s a lot of shit you wouldn’t know; a lot of shit I didn’t want to tell you. Anyway—long, boring story—after I got kicked out of my living situation, I ended up rooming with a bunch of drag queens.” He shrugs, but there’s a half smile on his face. “I was kind of their pet project for a while.”

She mirrors his expression. “That would only happen to you.”

“So how’s—” “Are you—”

Both of them chuckle nervously. Mary makes a “go on” motion.

As she wet her lips, her eyes flick to where his left hand is wrapped around his cup. No ring.

“I believe this is the part where I inquire after the health of a … uh … girlfriend?”

Subtle.

Mary’s half smile becomes whole.

“Oh, ah. Not one of those. Or the other kind. Not for a while, anyway.” He shrugs. “And … you?” he says carefully. “Husband? Kids?”

She feels her face flush, and she looks down.

“No, nothing like that.”

There’s what feels like a tense pause, but when she looks up, Mary is worrying at his bottom lip.

“I, uh. I looked for you, you know.”

Her eyes go wide “Y-you—you did?”

He nods. “But you … moved.”

She mirrors his nodding. “And changed jobs. Twice.”

He taps the tabletop between them. She rubs her palms down her jeans.

“That was kinda a fucked up time for me. I’m afraid I was really shitty to you.”

“Oh no, Mare—”

He holds his hand up. “No, I was. And I’m really fucking sorry about it. If this is it, if I never see you again, you have to know that. That, and you were just about the only good thing in my life for a while. I think I spent years chasing what I gave away with you.”

“Oh, Mare …” she says, too overcome to verbalize anything further.

“Except beating the shit out of Benny. He deserved that, and I’d do it again.”

She laughs, as was his intention.

“Maybe you should have knocked his head harder. He went away for trying to run over his girlfriend, you know?”

Mary’s brow furrows. “No shit?”

“No shit. She survived but ended up in traction.”

His face seems to darken.

“Did I push you into his arms?”

She sighs. “No, Mary. That was my own shitty decision. It’s not like I was at my best either.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says almost under his breath.

The two of them stare at each, the conversation seemingly having run its course. Then Mary jumps, and fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket. His eyes scan the screen, then he locks it.

“So … I, uh. Have to go.”

Her blood turns into ice in her veins, and she plasters a smile on her face. “Oh, ok. I understand.”

He slides off the stool, his phone scraping across the table in tandem. He goes to put it in his pocket, then raises it, then half lowers it, then grimaces at her.

“You wouldn’t want to get coffee sometime, would you? I mean, again. Not here. Or here is fine, but as a date.” His faces screw up. “Not like a date date—but like, a get together. To … talk.” His eyebrows form a triangle and he sucks his lips into his mouth, as if that’ll stop him from his verbal diarrhea.

She smiles at him. “I actually would like that very much, Mary.” She holds out her hand, and he hands her his phone.

#angst #mary goore #ficlet #brief #domestic abuse #not by mary #but mary is a dick #female reader 3rd person #n/sfw #longfic #my writing #original content

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