#you know that's gonna play a part in why he created the mask for Jack in the first place

[soleminisanction]

If I were put in charge of making a true-to-the-comic adaptation of the original Young Justice, I do think there's one change I'd make:

I'd ditch the "Batman has a rule against revealing secret identities" angle and instead root that subplot entirely in Tim's personal need to keep his superhero and civilian lives separate through compartmentalization. That'd make Tim's personal arc more strongly about finding a place among his friends where he feels truly comfortable being himself, gradually realizing that "Robin" and "Tim Drake" are both masks, one he wears for Bruce and the other he wears for Jack.

Initially with the rest of YJ he puts on another mask, "Rob," the leader, the responsible one, the stick-in-the-mud but the one everyone can rely on, basically his best attempt at play-acting the role he thinks Dick took in the Teen Titans. But over time he sees the others growing into themselves and becoming more genuine with each other, and he wants that, but he struggles to let himself have it because it goes against everything that kept him safe as a child, that helped him earn Robin's wings, that got him on the team in the first place.

I just think that'd fit his arc in the story a little better.

#tim drake #young justice #young just us #dc comics #musings #hyptheticals #tim's relationship with identity is something I've always found very compelling #it's a solid queer narrative to boot #you know that's gonna play a part in why he created the mask for Jack in the first place

[hawkland]

(Mostly) Destiel Fic Recs #5

This is a LONG recs post because it’s been a while since I did an update and I fell hard into reading one author’s work (DeanRH). In fact I could easily do a rec post just of their fics alone, but for this round I’m just going to pick out a handful of my absolute favorites so far, the ones I’d recommend to start out with, along with more other authors’ works I’ve especially enjoyed lately.

Absolution at the Five-and-Dime by DeanRH (125k)  - this is perhaps THEE DeanRH fic to start with if you want a good, long read with a little bit of everything (Roadtrips! Intriguing casefic! Americana! Tasty Dean/Cas pining! Wing!kink and unique angel lore! Kinky soul fisting and tentacles!) It’s kind of two of parallel stories in one: the first, a flashback to Dean and Sam's first year hunting on their own (as well as trying to avoid hunting, and John in general); the second on how Dean and Cas finally get together during an unusual case and when Dean is able to really let go of his past trauma and accept himself/accept love from Cas. 

What I love about DeanRH’s work is that they write from the unique point of view of a drifter, so they understand living on the road, traveling place to place, and the highs and lows of that life like no others I’ve encountered in SPN before. (The author’s notes are often as much fun to read as the stories themselves). They also write a kickass angel!Cas and never lose sight of his non-human traits and background. Their writing style is unique - almost poetic in nature, and I know some readers have found it difficult to get into. But it works really well for me in their SPN fic...gives it the flavor of oral story telling as might actually happen at a drifter’s camp (with one story written exactly as such). Be warned this particular fic does play up the idea of John Winchester being mentally abusive and Dean having to turn tricks when he was younger in order to support him and Sam, so there is some dark stuff. But as someone who grew up with mentally abusive parent, reading this was extremely cathartic to me and believably written (unlike some stories that go too over the top with abusive John, or just don't understand how that kind of abuse leaves lifetime psychological scars.)

The rest of this round’s recs below the cut.

Carnevale by DeanRH (18k) - Actually the first fic by this author I read, because I just couldn’t resist a story set in my favorite place in the world, Venice, Italy. Castiel is the Angel of Venice, banished there for so long he does not even know or remember the reasons why. But Carnevale season is the one time a year he can let his wings out - figuratively and literally. And during this particular Carnevale season, he meets an intriguing masked young American tourist there with his brother and their one night stand turns into something far more powerful than either expected. This one’s hot, romantic, and achingly sad at the end as it all ties together unexpectedly with canon-verse...though with a hint for the future so it’s definitely not totally sad. I loved how DeanRH clearly understands Venice as a fellow lover of the city, the side of it most tourists never see unless they spend a long time there. This story made me cry just from wanting to be back in Venice again.

Ice cream was sweeter, food more satisfying, everything was an epicurean delight. There was just something magical about Venice, and he had lived here in the city for hundreds of years, so the shine should have worn off by now.

But it didn't, and there was always something more, something wonderful to discover around the next corner. The painted eaves of a church. The beauty of two women dancing with flowers in their teeth across the Piazza San Marco one day, overcome by the sheer joy of just being there. The way the university students still created Venetian masks, like Castiel's extravagant volto mask and Dean's humble servetta muta, with crafts that had been handed down across the generations. The morning silence that lay against the stones.

Hard Landing by DeanRH (26.9k) - A bit similar in theme to Carnevale. A pre-series Dean and Sam are sight-seeing in Spain when an angel, struck by a babel-spell, crash lands right in front of Dean. A strange yet seriously hot encounter with the angel turns into something much more complicated when the brothers return home and realize something more serious is afoot and they are both trapped in the middle of it. This is another story where things are very much not as they seem at first (as fun as that is!) It features master strategist Cas at his best, with a side helping of delightful trickery care of Gabriel and Balthazar as they deal with Lucifer, Michael...and a few others along the way.

The Sacred Band of Thebes by DeanRH (14.5k) - The last DeanRH fic I’m gonna allow myself to include in this round up, because it’s just very soft and sweet and beautiful - for a story about Dean & Cas being magically transported back in time to ancient Sparta! This is another story infused with a great knowledge of place and history, with some wonderfully delightful original characters added in that make it all the more enjoyable to read.

And now on to some other authors, I promise!

IPAMIS OL OLPRIT by emmbrancsxx0 (56k). A really wonderful fic that take a different look at what might have happened with a temporarily resurrected John Winchester during Season 14. Dean & Cas are in an established relationship here, and John here isn’t too happy about it — though mostly because he sees Cas (and Jack) as monsters, the kind of monsters he spent his lifetime hunting. This is a great fic for the emotional complexity of how John, Dean and Cas are all handled. John isn’t a cardboard evil dad, Dean is struggling between his loyalty to his father and to Cas, and Cas is increasingly bitchy/frustrated at Dean still being so desperate for his father’s approval (and all the more complex for not just being a quietly suffering perfect supporting boyfriend.) There’s some great action sequences in this too along with the emotional angst and a delicious dose of hurt!Cas if that’s your thing (as it is for me :D)

Abrenuntio by Neonbat (51k). A very dark but compelling AU take on the/a apocalypse universe. Dean, Sam and John are all alive in this post-angel war-apocalyptic world. They are part of a group of human survivors fighting against the angel army when they manage to capture “Blue” — a particularly feared angel of death. Dean is tasked with bringing Blue in for interrogation and he becomes a prisoner in their camp after John is killed. As mentioned, this is a pretty dark/sad fic (with some rather gruesome torture scenes) but I still found it quite compelling as a look at how things could have gone in some other parallel universe. And somehow the author manages to make the Dean/Cas relationship come together despite them starting out as complete enemies. This is one of those AUs that works for me because the core of the characters really shine through despite the differences in the setting.

if it all fell to pieces tomorrow by spocklee (37k) - a gorgeous post-Empty rescue fic that takes an approach I haven’t really seen explored in detail before (despite being something I’ve actually thought about as something that could’ve happened.) What if Cas has spent so long denying himself happiness, and then trapped in regrets and false-rescue scenarios created by the Empty, that he can’t trust that his rescue is real? And so he runs off to be on his own - literally stealing the Impala because he can’t handle being in Dean’s presence one moment longer - and only slowly comes to terms with the idea that it’s over now and he can be happy with/around his friends and family. This one’s both deliciously angsty and at times funny/sweet, looking at Cas’s relationships not just with Dean but with Sam, Jack, Claire, even Eileen. It does some fun stuff with other returned angels and demons who now find themselves back on Earth (and human), and...I just really enjoyed this one a lot.

Both Saved and Lost by angelfishofthelord (13.7k) Gen Cas character study, absolutely gorgeous and sad and one of those fic I couldn’t stop thinking about the day after reading it. AU where Apocaverse!Cas isn’t immediately killed by our Cas during 13x22 but instead hitches a ride back to the main ‘verse. Dean and Sam want to keep him alive for information on Michael; Cas is torn and trying to figure out just how similar—or different—they really are. Some great angel stuff here (I also highly recommend this author’s Jack & Cas “dadstiel” fics, they’re equally lovely and heartbreaking at the same time.)

flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k) - THEE “What exactly did Dean eat in Purgatory, anyway?” fic you’ve probably already heard about. *cough* I’ve been trying to work up the courage to read this one for a while and finally gave in and OH MY CHUCK I’m so glad I did. It’s perversely disturbing and beautiful at the same time, Cas is wonderfully DERANGED and ALIEN in that way that I love it when fics managed to convey just how much angels are NOT human. Do heed the tags.

Full of Grace by ilovehowyouletmefall (11k) - Another one for the weird-as-fuck-angel!Cas lovers’ list. Heaven/canon-compliant fic where Dean knows he should feel happy and at peace but he just...isn’t, even with Cas and all of his friends and family there. He finally goes looking for Cas when he’s been absent for a time and, for the first time, gets to not just see but experience his true form. Another one that hits some kinks I knew I had and others I didn’t...until now. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

don't ask me where i've been by saltwound / @1x06 (8k) - I can never resist a good 09x06 fiction gap fic! What makes this one really stand out is how well it captures Cas’s internal voice - his struggles adapting to human senses, limitations and emotions versus what/how he experienced things as an angel. The longing and feelings between Dean & Cas here are so achingly beautiful and I just wanted to cry when Cas says he misses hearing Dean’s prayers, so Dean, he...oh, I’m not going to spoil it. *happy sigh* Just read it.

this room is wrong by DarkHeartInTheSky (12k) - Sometimes I like torturing myself with some good 15x03 divorce arc angst and this fic hit that button just so. It’s an alternative take on where Cas might have ended up after leaving the bunker and features some great Cas & Sam friendship feels, when Sam sets out to try to bring Cas home. It’s all the stuff you’d wish the writers would’ve let them talk out in canon.

Well that’s more than enough for this round! Go forth, read and give some great writers some kudos & comment love!

#fic recs #my fic recs #destiel recs #destiel #deancas recs #my destiel recs

[carinyms]

(I don’t know if anyone who follows me even watches Loki, but if you do and feel compelled to analyze it with someone please hmu, because no one I personally know cares about this show and listen I care SO MUCH)

Anyway, here’s an extremely disjointed thought dump on episode three, it’s a lot :)

1. I got so much serotonin from them playing that Hayley Kiyoko song over the opening credits, oh my god.

2. I love Sylvie, I LOVE her. Just an iconic badass—so snarky, so powerful. 10/10. (When she took that cape off?? That outfit?? This whole show is just Bi Panic for me) I’m sure they’re setting her up to be very sympathetic and then she will inevitably stab Loki in the back at some point, and you know what that’s fine.

3. Their screen chemistry and banter is incredible, nearly on the same level as the scenes with Mobius and Loki. (Which is good bc speaking of which, I miss Owen Wilson). I can’t wait till we get a scene with all three of them working together, it will be fantastic.

4. God, I want to see Loki truly in full power just annihilate someone in a fight just once. I do think it’s purposeful that we’re not seeing that right now — the writers can’t seriously think the audience collectively forgot that this guy took down 5 (6?) dark elves with his hands bound and now he can’t throw a knife and hit a target that's not even moving?? There has to be a reason. I’m choosing to have faith in Kate Herron here. (But I’m tired of seeing him getting tossed around like a sack of potatoes :( )

5. I think Sylvie explaining how to enchant someone has to be foreshadowing, right? By the end of the series, either Loki will have puzzled out how to do it and tap into Sylvie’s mind, or vise versa, Sylvie will get into Loki’s head an unearth something nasty (This is SO dumb of me to hope for, I’m setting myself up for disappointment, but maybe Thanos memories here?? I’m really going full fanfic narrative with this one lol but wow can you imagine.)

6. Or, Loki will use this tactic to get into Mobius’ head and wake him up to the truth. (Also, can we talk about how concerned he was when he was like, ‘But the TVA workers don’t know they’re variants!!” Loki you little SOFTIE. Headcanon that he’s now not gonna want to hurt any of the TVA workers because they’re all brainwashed and our guy knows a thing or two about that?? BEGGING the show to acknowledge this. (Please, could we have a little bit of recognition of trauma Marvel? As a treat?)

(I will be let down lol)

7. Speaking of the brainwashed TVA workers, I have questions about how this works. Mobius remembers jet skis, but Casey didn’t know what a fish was? Is it just because Casey doesn’t work in the field? Does Mobius just have a stronger mind that Ravonna has to keep continuously wiping because he remembers snippets? That would explain the multiple water rings on her table they drew attention to— but why would the TVA let him have that magazine if they didn’t want their agents remembering anything??

8. Also, uhh…Is Ravonna a timekeeper? This is a theory that keeps popping up for me.

9. Loki and Sylvie’s conversation on the train was wonderful.

10. We LOVE a confirmed Bicon.

11. Him talking about and remembering Frigga, and his viewpoint on love feels like lines out of a fanfic come to life and I love it. Part of me is like “this level of vulnerability feels OOC” (and don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of other things that felt truly OOC) but this particular aspect feels more like we’re seeing a more apathetic, carefree, nihilistic version of Loki than we’ve ever seen, so maybe he’s just given up on the masks? Anyhow, I love this side of his character we’re seeing.

12. Loki singing in Norwegian. That is all.

12.2 Actually no, that’s not all. It had such ‘Aragorn singing at his coronation vibes’, in that it both caught me extremely off-guard and got me very emotional. Apparently the lyrics (someone translated) are all about missing home, and wow he’s really just missing his family and a sense of belonging *so much* that he’s chosen to recreate what I’d imagine an Asgardian party was like — getting drunk (although he clearly wasn’t drunk, just acting drunk), singing asgardian songs, smashing the glass on the ground and saying “Another!” (Which we can now assume was just an asgardian custom at parties bc how would he have known Thor did that?) Someone pointed out the planet that they’re on is called Lamentis, and dang this whole episode is all about Loki grieving and longing for what he’s lost? and I’m so hyped for when they end up in Asgard again. I don’t know what will happen but there will be Angst and tears, perfect recipe for a good time.

13. Speaking of Thor, is he going to tell Sylvie about him at some point? Because I will cry. Like, I guarantee it.

14. My only gripe here is that drunk Loki was giving me big Jack Sparrow energy towards the very end and I am Not About That

15. Why does Sylvie understand Norwegian?? This song meant something to her too, clearly, she was getting teary eyed, like it was something she was familiar with and I just have so many questions about how her timeline was different/similar.

16. And going off that, I’m just going to say it—I DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW VARIANTS WORK. Because if a variant is created by someone branching from their ‘true path’, wouldn’t every variant have the same base-story? Thus all look the same, have a similar past? (The same parents, the same origin?) I know the TVA’s sacred-timeline thing is all BS, that much is obvious—and Sylvie’s history is making me wonder (that is, if she truly IS a Loki ‘variant’), is the TVA’s description of branched timelines really accurate at all, or are some variants from a fully alternate reality overlapping with this one? I’m trusting they will make this make more sense.

17. I love the moments of humanity we’re getting from Loki, but especially the one where he’s surveying all those people in the town and goes “they’re gonna let these people die…” Like, what a great comparison to Loki in Ragnarok, who goes back and rescues his people because he couldn’t let them die in good conscious when he could do something about it. I like to think that being raised as a prince, there is an inherent feeling of ‘rulers should look after their people” buried under everything, and that what was going through his head was “how could they abandon these people without thought?” I love that even though that was a different Loki, they’re showing (not just telling) that the core of him truly does care about people, and the person he developed into in the original franchise is still there.

18. Also that line perfectly sets up what I’m sure is going to happen in the next episode—that they’ll find a way to escape the planet and save the people (or some of them), which will create a branch and alert the TVA to where they are, thus Loki getting brought back in.

19. the Rolled Up Sleeves look is. mhmm. It’s Good.

20. LOKI CATCHING THAT WHOLE BUILDING WITH HIS MAGIC???? BYE

Alright I’m done now, this was so chaotic, but also I really just wanted to document my thoughts on the show for myself so it's fine

#really shouting into the void with this one #but you know what I spent like an hour trying to organize my thoughts (with mild success) so I'm gonna post it dammit #today is the day I stop being afraid of interacting with anyone on this website #(is it tho) #loki spoilers #loki series spoilers #my disaster son has a show

[rovewritesit]

Angel Of My Dreams (Chapter 1) John Deacon x Reader Series

I’ve read so many fan fics in the past four months and I thought it was high time to try my hand at it. I’ve created this side blog so that I can 1) Express my love for Queen and 2) Not annoy the randos from high school and college who still follow my main. This’ll be a slow burn folks, so hold on to your hats.

Series summary: After reluctantly joining a band with your childhood best friends, you are thrust into oncoming stardom with no sea legs and an overwhelming sense of anxiety. But you just might find your way, thanks to some seasoned pros by your side. And the interest of one particular bassist.

This series is a work of fiction, and is loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Pairing: John Deacon x Reader (eventually)

Chapter Warnings: Lots o’ curses

Chapter Summary: This is basically just some set up for the series. No Deacy yet, but a meet-cute to happen very soon! I got the band name with the help of some random band name generator so be kind. I’m hoping to introduce in some songs readers may not have heard - I was thinking of “Heart of the Night” by Juice Newton while writing this, hence the single name and album.

Song/Title Inspiration: Angel - Fleetwood Mac

- - - - - - -

Days of Our Lives Documentary Shoot - 2010

(Brian May and Roger Taylor Joint Interview)

“The early 80s were huge for us, for sure. I believe we were at our biggest then, internationally speaking.” Brian states, glancing over to Roger.

“Yes, Another One Bites the Dust really set things a-flame I think. The traveling and playing were constant. The crowds getting bigger by the venue. Parties, hotels, girls, more parties. We were meeting just so many people.” Roger adds.

“And one of those being a certain American female rock singer.” The interviewer adds quietly from off-camera.

Roger glances over to him with a questioning look, but Brian catches on quick, like always.

“Ah yes, that particular rock goddess. We did meet her around then, I believe, yes. Maybe a few years after.” Brian says knowingly, still playing along.

Roger stares into space with a confused look on his face until the realization hits him. “Are we talking about Y/N?” Roger mutters to Brian. “Yes” Brian chuckles, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“Oh, what a spit-fire she is! Not back then though. Fred really worked some magic with that one. Almost inseparable those two were.” Roger laughs out, a wave of nostalgia washing over his face.

Brian raises his large eyebrows, “Deacy would beg to differ I think.”

Roger smirks, “Oh, well that’s a whole different story.”

- - - - - - -

1982 - MTV Studios, New York City

You run your hands up and down your thighs, trying to will your left knee to stop repeatedly bouncing up and down. The satin of your pants does nothing for the layer of sweat on your clammy hands. You fold them together in your lap and gaze around the studio instead, taking in the bustling of crew members as they ready for the pre-taped interview. The god-like VJ, Alan Hunter, sits in a chair off to the side as someone artfully pieces his blonde locks into place. He grins over at you with a small wave. You limply lift your hand in a greeting, pasting on a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

You catch your pained expression as you glimpse a monitor off-camera. A friendly woman backstage had painted your face to the point of being almost unrecognizable. Gone was the evidence under your eyes of the restless sleep you’d fought the previous night. They were wide and doed, rather than their normal crescent shape. Your lips full and vibrant, your hair bounced and fanned out around your face. And your skin seemed to be glowing, masking the spots that had popped up overnight from stress. You looked every bit the rock goddess the label hoped to paint you as, and the exact opposite of the nerves currently threatening to overtake your body.

“Y/N, I can feel you vibrating from here. Take a deep breath. It’s gonna be fine.” Rich commented from beside you. His legs were splayed out, his arms bent behind his head. Looking as relaxed as can be, as if he were on his couch at home catching a movie marathon, about to doze off.

“How can you be so calm right now?” You rush out. “Who knows how many people are going to see this interview. Do you know how many times a day I accidentally let the F word fly out of my mouth?”

Rich lets out a snort. “I happen to know exactly how much you curse, thank you. Yesterday you said fuck 3 times in one sentence. It was charming, my mom loved it.” He moves his right arm to squeeze around your shoulders. Usually, it would be a comforting display of friendship, but you shake it off.

“And look at those three. Already so at home, I see.” You nod to the three other members of the band. Steve is exuding energy like yourself, but it’s excitement that bubbles from him. His eyes flit around the room quickly as he taps out some unknown rhythm on his bent legs. A wide grin permanently fixed on his boyish features.

At the far end of the couch, Eddie and Lawrence are wrapped up in a not-so-silent game of knuckles.

“Son of a-- Will you take off those damn rings? It’s my turn and I’m still getting bruised.” Lawrence huffs. Eddie wiggles his long, skilled, silver-clad fingers in front of his face and raises his eyebrows. “It’s all about the look, baby. Gotta play the part of the guitar god.”

“Will you both knock it off.” You call over to them. “We need both those sets of hands in playing shape for tomorrow night.”

Eddie turns, probably to counter with some playful comment about how you mother them too much, but Alan approaches.

“Alright, guys. And girl.” He flashes his perfectly white teeth your way again. “We’re about 5 minutes out from going up. Anybody need anything? Water, vodka, beer…” He turns his gaze to Steve, who is still tapping lightly on his legs. “A Xanax, perhaps?”

“Waters all around would be great, thanks.” You offer. Alan nods to a twitchy PA waiting to his side and they hurry off.

“Oh wait up, a Bud Light too, if you have any!” Eddie calls after them. The other three boys echo the same as well.

“You can take the boys out of Long Island…” you mutter to yourself. Rich teasingly pokes your side. “And something stiff for the lady!” He shouts out.

“In all manner of ways” Steve giggles. You feign a shocked expression and reach over to place a gentle slap to the side of his head. He looks over with big apologetic eyes and you stifle a laugh.

In record time, the lanky PA rushes back over with a myriad of drinks, all threatening to topple over on the tray they were precariously balanced on. Another PA trails behind, handing you all water, which you’re in desperate need of. They hand the drinks out one by one and stop before you. “Your water, Miss. And I didn’t know what you liked so I have a jack and coke, a whiskey sour, and a gin and tonic.”

“The gin and tonic is great, thanks.” They hurriedly hand you the drink and go to turn away. “Love your hair by the way.” You tell them. “I’m absolute shit at styling mine. Guess I’ll have to learn now.” They smile back at you and run a hand through their short locks before disappearing amongst the rest of the crew.

“Okay, we’re ready to rock n’ roll!” Alan exclaims, getting the band’s attention as he sits down in a chair next to your side of the couch. “We’re going to start off with a few basics on the band. Your lower thirds will have your instruments labeled but feel free to explain how you guys started out, your influences, your process. I’ll prompt you in between and then we'll talk about the album and promote your upcoming tour towards the end. Should take 15 minutes tops, so keep your answers brief. But I won’t say no to any rowdy stories you want to throw in.” He finishes with a wink.

The band nods along as you gulp down a breath, your palms becoming even slicker. The stage manager’s high voice rings out around the studio. “Playback ready! Live to tape in 5.. 4...” Rich places a hand over your knee and gives a squeeze. “Light em’ up, Bun” he mutters in your ear.

“3.. 2..” She holds up a finger and then points it at Alan, a wide smile already set on his face. The camera light flicks red as the MTV open plays from speakers around the room. Alan beings as the song fades out.

“We’re here in the studio and boy, am I excited to get to know this next band. Over at MTV we’ve been watching the steady rise of their single “Heart of the Night” on the charts. And as an added surprise, they’re here to introduce their very first music video. I’m very pleased to welcome to the studio, Lo & The Limbs!”

You try to relax your face as a camera pans across the band and settles on a two-shot of you and Alan. You know your eyes are gleaming with anxiety so you glance down the couch, silently praying for one of the boys to take the lead.

“Thanks for having us Alan, it’s such a trip to be here.” Eddie says with ease, resting his forearms on his knees.

“So, I have to ask. Who is Lo? Is it you Lawerence?” Alan questions the piano player.

“Oh god, no.” Lawrence chuckles. “Our high school was affectionately called Lo High, for Long Island HighSchool of the Arts. So we sort of tacked that on while playing during those years to let people know where we were from. That and well, as you can see we’re all above 6 foot except for Y/N, so a lot of limbs going on here.”

Alan gives a short laugh. “You released your debut album, Quiet Lies, earlier this year to growing success. Why don’t you tell me how you all started out.”

“Well, the boys and I have been together for a few years. We’ve been friends since grade school and we always just used to jam about. As we got older we started playing local bars back on Long Island to mostly middle-aged crowds, trying to break in, but it wasn’t working. Then Rich had the idea to invite Y/N to join up and it’s all kind of all taken off from there.” Eddie explains.

“We needed a pretty face to balance out all these ugly mugs” Steve pipes up.

“It took a while for her to finally concede though. She was off being too studious for the likes of us.” Rich adds on with a smile and nudge to your side. Your eyes grow wide as you feel a question directed at you coming on.

“Is that true, Y/N?”

“I- I guess, I was at NYU studying documentary filmmaking.” You choke out, but continue on. “Love this lighting set up, by the way, it really hides all sins.” That gets a light chuckle out of the crew surrounding you.

“And these sins you’re hiding are…” Alan grins but quickly bounces to the next topic. “Certainly a good call, Rich. Heart of the Night is the only song off the album that Y/N is singing lead on and look how well it’s doing. How did that happen?”

“Most of our songs were already written from before when we finally got the money to record. We wanted Y/N to feel a part of it, so she went on and wrote Heart of the Night and we were all very pleasantly surprised that it’s become such a hit.” Steve explains. “She also directed the music video we’ll be debuting today. I can’t believe she let us do all the things we did in that… well, you’ll just have to see for yourselves. We can be a bit of a handful.” The boys all chuckle.

“That and she plays the weirdest collection of instruments. Rhythm guitar, any type of strings, the saxophone… She's a boss on the harmonica.” Eddie turns to you as he speaks. “You just need to get over those pesky little nerves about your singing, Bun!” He points in your direction.

You feel the heat rise behind your perfectly painted cheeks at the slip of your nickname. You cast your gaze down at your lap. Not liking how the conversation has turned directly onto you.

Alan quirks an eyebrow at you. “Bun?” He teases.

You have yet to lift your eyes when Rich answers for you. “Bunny, an affectionate nickname. It’s stuck around since grade school when she wandered into Lawrence's backyard in search of a rabbit she was chasing.”

“A rockstar called Bunny. There’s a first for everything.” Alan quips, but quickly notices your displeasure in the current topic. Sensing your growing panic, he addresses the rest of the group. “This has been quite the debut album, with more hits sure to come from it. Any bands you’ve taken inspiration from while writing and producing?”

Rich jumps at the question. “Fleetwood Mac would be a big one. The way they layer their sounds is just unmatchable. You catch something new with every listen of an album of theirs.”

“I can’t be a pianist from Long Island and not mention the granddaddy, Billy Joel.” Lawrence adds. “His songs take you on such a ride. They’re full stories, each one of them.”

“And you, Y/N?” Alan directs the next question. “Who will you be drawing inspiration from when you write your next hit single?”

You smile to yourself. “It’s gotta be Queen for me. I’ve loved every one of their albums. I mean, the way they’ve changed their sound just in the past few years alone. They’re always transcending. Never afraid to try out something new or weave a different genre into one of their songs. But you always know it’s a Queen song. I saw them 2 years ago when they played the Garden, and fu--” You catch yourself as you get more animated. “And they were all just so on. Perfectly in sync. There’s something so distinct about their sound, so practiced. I’d love to get to their level, to be able to experiment like that. To give joy in the way they’ve given it to me.” You finish. Realizing you’ve rambled for a bit, you turn your eyes downwards yet again.

“I think that’s the most I’ve heard you talk since you came into the studio!” Alan laughs. “Well, you heard it here first folks, Y/N L/N is a Queen fan, just like the rest of us. I’m sure you’re just as excited about their new album as well.” You nod quickly as Rich hides a smile. Knowing full well you’ll be first in line to purchase their new album, Hot Space when it drops.

“But before you get off to writing more hits, I believe you have a tour coming up!” Alan states, signaling that the interview is wrapping up.

“Yeah, we have a small American tour starting in February. But until then we’ll be opening up for Hall and Oates during their tour of the NorthEast next month.” Steve says excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“And with that, I think we’ll roll into the long-anticipated music video and directorial debut for the lovely Y/N L/N. Thank you all so much for coming in today and I can’t wait to see what’s next on the horizon for you. Here’s Lo & The Limbs with Heart of the Night!” Alan keeps his painted smile till the red light vanishes from above the lens on the large pedestal camera in front of him.

You breathe out the breath you’d been choking on as Rich puts an arm around your shoulders. He leans in and whispers lightly, “And only one hint of a fuck, ladies and gentlemen. She might just make it in this business after all.”

- - - - - - -

One Month Later - Veterans Memorial Coliseum - New Haven, Connecticut

The Limbs bound off the stage in full force, glistening with sweat and excitement. It was the largest crowd they’d played for by far. 10,000 people cheered from the audience as roadies and crew moved around them to set up for the main act, Hall and Oates. Rich spreads his long arms and huddles the rest of the group into a family hug, your skin sticking to one another, the smell of sweat filling your noses.

“I just want us to all remember this moment.” He speaks to the group, foreheads touching. “Even if nothing happens past this album. That was insane.”

“Absolutely bonkers, dude!” Steve says and he bounces up and down beside you. You all take a deep collective breath and squeeze.

“Alright, get off of me you fucks.” You laugh, untangling yourself from their vast expanse of limbs. “We all stink and I have to get out of all... this” You gesture to the skin-tight bodysuit your best friend, Dawn, had insisted you wear. Eddie presses a light kiss to your temple as he lets you into the dressing room first to change out of their view.

You close the door and sigh, glancing at yourself in the mirrors that line one wall of the room. Your eyes are bright, your hair is two times the size of when you went out on stage an hour before, and your makeup looks like you’d been in a fight. Grinning to yourself, you start to unlatch the halter top of the bodysuit, excited for the air to cool your skin.

Just as you are about to shimmy out of the rest of the ensemble, the door bursts open.

“Shit! Lawrence, what the hell?!” Scrambling to cover your top half.

Lawrence trains his eyes to the ceiling as he speaks. “Bunny, you gotta… just cover up and get your ass out here. You just... You gotta see, c’mon.”

Flustered, you hurry to redress your sticky body. After making sure everything is properly covered, you step out into the hallway backstage, already glaring at the boys. They’re all tight-lipped, staring at one another. “Okay, someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?” You say loudly. “Shhhhh” Rich hisses as he gestures behind him with a shake of his head. You glance over his shoulder to see the backs of two men. John Hall and Daryl Oates.

“Yeah, okay... I don’t get it. We’ve hung out with them like 5 times. Why are we fangirling?”

Rich widens his eyes at you and you glance back at them again. This time they part and you can catch a glimpse of who they’ve been talking to.

The flash of a tight leather jacket, a mustache, and two front teeth shining while laughter erupts from behind them.

You gasp.

“Fucking, fuck. That’s Freddie fucking Mercury.” You say, a bit too loud.

The bold man in question locks eyes with you. Something mischievous dances behind them as he narrows his gaze. Daryl and John move to their roadies to get fixed up before heading out on stage and Freddie lets out a sharp burst of laughter as he makes his way over. Your stomach churns with embarrassment but you can’t tear your eyes from his.

“Quite the redundancy of expletives, my dear. All you had to do was say hello.” he grins at you, all teeth. You’re not one to get too clammy in front of other musicians, but your voice gets trapped in your throat. You pray to whatever gods are out there that your eyes don’t get any wider.

Eddie’s easy charm luckily saves you. “This beautiful songstress right here is Y/N L/N.” You barely lift your arms as Freddie pulls you in for a light hug and kiss on the cheek. “But you can call her Bunny.” Eddie grins. So much for easy charm you think as you stare daggers into the profile of his face.

“Ha! Bunny? Oh my, that is wonderful.” Freddie chuckles. “It sounds as if you’re a socialite... Or a stripper. I can’t tell.” He beams at you. You can’t help but beam right back.

“Come along. Let us watch the show and you can tell me which one it is.” He says with a wink. “And introduce me to these giants you call your band.” He grabs your arm and leads you off, the boys in tow. Bouncing with excitement for what’s to come.

#queen fic #queen fanfiction #queen fanfic #john deacon #john deacon fic #john deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon series #deaky fic #deacy fic #deaky x reader #deacy x reader #angelofmydreams

[debbiechanclub]

So You’ve Chosen Death

Pairing: Luchasaurus/Reader

Category: Humor ‘n’ fluff

Word count: 2,655

Thanks for the awesome Luchasaurus request, @lancearcherinrippedjeans! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you love it (I’m so sorry it took so long). OH, and this is the first time I’ve EVER written first person, so I’m pretty proud of myself. Also, I couldn’t help but selfishly give a little cameo to my OC, Alex (*cough*readBestTwoOutofThree*cough*)

Find more of my fics here.

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

“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…” I muttered to myself as I walked through the backstage halls at Daily’s Place, dragging my feet. I should have been ecstatic just to be back—between my injury and the pandemic, I hadn’t worked in months. But these were not—I repeat, NOT—the circumstances under which I’d hoped to return.

I thought back to the previous week. I’d been binge-watching what felt like my thousandth TV series and failing not to eat an entire family size bag of potato chips in one sitting when my cell phone had rung. I’d been so excited to see Cody’s name on my caller ID—so full of hope. It hadn’t lasted long.

“Hello?” I’d immediately answered.

“[Y/N]! How are you?”

“Hey, Cody! I’m doing well. Just trying to stay ready for my big comeback,” I’d said as I hastily tossed the potato chip bag to the other side of the couch. “How are things with you?”

“Things are pretty good with me; thanks for asking. But it’s funny you mention your big comeback, because that’s actually why I’m calling.”

I’d tried not to sound too excited when I’d said, “Oh really?”

“Yup,” he’d said. And then, “You’re all cleared to work, right?”

“Yes!” I’d nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “Totally cleared.”

“Great! We definitely want to get you back ASAP, then. How do you feel about joining a faction?”

My brow had furrowed then. A faction? What faction was there for me to join? Were they creating a new one? Oh god—did they want to put me in the Dark Order?

“[Y/N]?”

“I’m up for it,” I’d returned, pulling myself out of my thoughts. “I’ve never been in a faction before.”

“Great! That’s what I like to hear,” he’d replied. “Well, just come ready to go to Dynamite next week and we’ll fill you in on all the details then.”

“I’m looking forward to it!” I’d said. After all, I’d figured even if they did put me in the Dark Order it’d be better than sitting and doing nothing at home.

But now that I had been filled in on the details, I wasn’t so sure.

My destination was only steps away now; I swore I could feel my feet slowly turning to lead in my shoes as I got closer and closer to the locker room. I stopped in front of the door and reluctantly raised my fist to knock—but before I could, someone jerked open the door. Marko Stunt stared up at me, startled, before his eyes lit up with excited realization. “[Y/N]! You’re here!” He turned and shouted back into the room as loudly as his little lungs would allow. “HEY GUYS! [Y/N] IS HERE!”

He ran back inside, and the locker room door fell closed with a bang. I looked up to the ceiling and prayed to the wrestling gods for strength.

They’d put me in Jurassic Express. The Dark Order would have been better.

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

“That was SO SICK!” Marko proclaimed as we all returned to our locker room. “Wasn’t that sick, [Y/N]?”

I blinked as I sat down in front of my bag. Sick wasn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe the match Jungle Boy had just had with Orange Cassidy. Bizarre seemed more appropriate. “Yeah. It was super sick,” I flatly returned.

“Hey, so why’d you go after Alex like that, though?” Jack asked me.

I froze. “Was I… not supposed to?”

“I mean, not really,” he returned. “We were all babyfaces out there. She was just flirting with me as part of a bit.”

“Oh.” I looked down at the carpet, suddenly feeling self-conscious as they all stared at me. “Sorry. You know I was a heel before my injury, so I have to get used to being a babyface.”

“No worries. I thought it was pretty funny, actually,” Luchasaurus… er, Austin chuckled as he took off his mask. “All Alex did was smile and give him a little wave and then bam! You hit her with a running forearm to the back of the head.”

He smiled back at me, and I went stiff in my seat. He had an unexpectedly handsome smile.

“So you’re coming out with us after the show, right?” Marko suddenly asked.

I shook myself out of my daze. “Oh, no. I already have plans with Aerial,” I returned as I picked up my phone and started scrolling through my Twitter mentions. But I could feel it; they were all staring at me again. I looked back up. “Thanks for the invite, though?”

A wide smile broke out over Marko’s face. “Yeah, sure thing. But next week—you’re coming.”

A corner of my mouth quirked up as I looked back down at my phone. I would sooner die.

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

As the weeks went by, I got more used to my role with Jurassic Express. Cody had suggested I lean into my feelings as a reluctant but loyal member of the group (because, apparently, it was glaringly obvious that reluctant was exactly what I was; my resting bitch face strikes again). To his credit, it did make things a lot more enjoyable for me. But no matter how many times Marko asked, I still refused to hang out with them outside of work.

“Come on, [Y/N],” he pleaded as we all packed up after filming an episode of Dark. “You have to come out with us at least once.”

“Sorry, I have to wash my hair tonight,” I returned.

“Ha!” Austin let out a loud burst of genuine laughter. I blinked and felt my cheeks start to flush.

Marko rolled his eyes. “You already used that excuse two weeks ago.”

I paused. Had I? I was starting to lose track because he asked so much.

“Maybe [Y/N] just really likes keeping kayfabe,” Jack commented.

“No, I don’t think it’s that,” Austin said. “I think she’s afraid she actually might enjoy herself.”

It sounded like a slight—but there was a smirk on his lips. I froze. Was he… flirting with me?

“Why’s that so scary?” Marko muttered to himself.

I rolled my eyes; he looked like a rejected puppy at the pound. “Fine. I’ll come out for one drink.”

Marko’s entire face lit up. “Really? Yes! This is gonna be the best night ever, I can feel it.”

“One. Drink,” I repeated. I glanced over at Austin. He smirked again and I looked away, my heart thumping in my chest.

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

We arrived at what Marko said was their usual spot. Admittedly, it wasn’t terrible; it looked like the sort of place I would go with my actual friends. But I wasn’t about to say that out loud.

I was standing at the bar looking at what they had on tap when Austin came up next to me. “What’re you drinking?”

I looked up at him, put on the spot. “Oh, I don’t know. That red ale sounds good.”

He nodded and got the bartender’s attention. “Two of the red ale, please.”

My eyebrows arched. “Oh no, you don’t have to get my drink,” I said; but he waved me off.

“It’s your first time coming out with us; I insist.” He smiled down at me. “But you have to get the next round.”

I pursed my lips. “There won’t be a next round. I said one drink, remember?”

The bartender set our drinks on the bar top. Austin picked them both up and handed one to me. “Sure,” he smirked as he walked back to join Jack and Marko at the booth, and I bit down on my jaw to keep from returning it.

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

A little while later, Marko and Jack had gone off to play darts. Marko had tried and tried to get me to come with them (again: frickin’ puppy), but the last thing I wanted was for them to see how embarrassing my hand-eye coordination was, so I’d refused. Which had left me in the booth, alone with Austin. It had been awkward at first; but his presence was so friendly and genuine that I had no choice but to relax. That, or it was the beer.

“So, I have to ask,” I started. “How’d you go from getting your master’s degree in medieval history to becoming a pro wrestling dinosaur?”

He let out a loud laugh, just like he had back in the locker room when I’d quipped about having to wash my hair. “I don’t know, the progression seems pretty obvious to me.”

I just sent him a look. He chuckled again.

“I started training while I was getting my master’s,” he explained. “To be honest, I wasn’t actually trying to get anywhere with it; I was just having fun. But then WWE offered me the developmental deal. Long story short, it didn’t work out and I ended up just spinning my wheels for awhile trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. That’s when I did Big Brother.”

My eyes widened. “Oh my god, I totally forgot you did Big Brother.”

“Yeah, it was… an experience. I’ll just put it that way,” he said with a grin. “But after that, I got back into wrestling and landed a deal with Lucha Underground. That’s where Luchasaurus was born… and the rest is history.”

My eyebrows arched. I was genuinely fascinated by this man’s life story. It was so unique. “That’s insane… and definitely not an obvious progression.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” he smiled. I had to take a drink to hide my nervousness. “So what about you? How’d you get into the business? I just realized I’ve never actually gotten to know you.”

I gripped my pint glass tighter, suddenly clamming up again. But there was something about the kind and honest expression in his eyes that made me want to open up. I glanced sheepishly down at the tabletop. “Wrestling is the only thing I could ever imagine myself doing, ever since I was kid. It pissed my parents off to no end. They wanted me to at least go to college, but I didn’t see the point. I knew this was what I wanted to do. Luckily, it worked out.”

Austin shook his head. “No, it wasn’t luck. I’ve watched your matches. You’re really talented, [Y/N].”

Butterflies burst in my stomach as my entire face went red. The compliment caught me completely off-guard—and so did the way it made me feel. “Well, this was nice, but I think I’m gonna go,” I said as I abruptly stood from the booth. “Tell Jack and Marko I said bye,” and I ran out of the bar, trying to ignore the thumping of my heart. I could not have a crush on a pro wrestling dinosaur.

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

The next week, I had a match against Alex on Dark. And, unfortunately for her, I was using it as an opportunity to take out my frustration over The Austin Situation.

Double unfortunately? Austin—er, Luchasaurus—was at ringside.

“Oof!” Alex let out a groan as I kicked her so hard in the stomach that she flew back into the turnbuckle with a thud. I stalked toward her and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the corner for an Irish whip; but she reversed it and sent me careening across the ring into the opposite turnbuckle.

It only worked to enrage me further.

I turned around and charged—but she stopped me in the center of the ring with a well-placed forearm. I fell to one knee, and she hit me in the back of the head with a step-up enzuigiri. I fell to the mat and she hooked my leg. I kicked out at two.

“Yes!” I heard Austin proclaim from the ring apron. I tried to ignore it.

Alex got to her feet and climbed outside the ropes onto the ring apron, waiting. I knew what she was doing; she was waiting for me to get up so she could hit me with that springboard dropkick of hers. I staggered to my feet, pretending to be more out of it than I actually was; and when I saw her jump up to the top rope, I ran over and hit her with a hard forearm.

Alex fell backward off the ropes—but she didn’t hit the floor. Austin caught her. The momentum caused him to stumble back against the guard rail and he landed on his butt on the floor, Alex sitting in his lap, her arms around his neck, his arms around her waist.

I watched from the ring as she smiled up at him. “Thanks for breaking my fall, big guy,” she said, and she patted his chest as she untangled herself from him.

My eyes narrowed. So you’ve chosen death.

The next thing I knew I’d climbed through the ropes and jumped to the floor. I grabbed Alex by the hair and threw her into the guard rail.

Orange Cassidy, who’d accompanied Alex for the match, casually rounded the corner and walked toward me, his hands in his pockets. But Austin jumped up and stared him down.

Meanwhile, I dove under the ring apron and pulled out a kendo stick.

“[Y/N]! I’m warning you; you’ll get disqualified!” Aubrey shouted from inside the ring; but I didn’t listen. I swung the kendo stick back and hit Alex hard across the back with a loud thwack!

She let out a cry of pain as she arched her back and tried to get away. “That’s it! Ring the bell!” Aubrey ordered, and the timekeeper started furiously ringing the bell as I continued to stalk her. Orange stepped in my way. I lifted the kendo stick again, threatening to hit him, too—but Austin grabbed it out of my grip.

“[Y/N], what are you doing?” he asked.

Dasha called the match before I could respond. “And your winner by disqualification, Alex Hawthorne!”

I stared back at Austin, suddenly hyper-aware of what I’d done—and why I’d done it. I turned and sprinted up the ramp, ignoring the butterflies teeming in my stomach. But he was hot on my heels.

“[Y/N], wait!”

I don’t know why, but I stopped just inside the Gorilla curtain. When I turned around to look at Austin, his eyes were soft behind his mask.

“What the hell was that out there?”

I stared up at him. Maybe it was the adrenaline, but it all just came spewing out like word vomit. “I saw Alex sitting in your lap and got jealous, okay? And then I got pissed at myself for getting so jealous over something so stupid, so I just grabbed a kendo stick to end the fucking match. That’s it.” I turned and tried to storm off again; but he caught my arm.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. “Did you say you got jealous?”

I looked sheepishly at the floor. Was he really going to make me do this? “Yes,” I mumbled as if my mouth was full of marbles.

“What?”

“Yes!” I burst, clearly that time. “I got jealous, okay? Are you gonna make me say it again?”

“No, I heard you that time,” he said. “But you shouldn’t be jealous. I mean, Alex is pretty; but I have my eye on someone else.”

He smirked down at me, and there was no possible way I could ignore the butterflies then. “Oh,” I said as I looked away again, nervously fidgeting under his gaze. “Well, that’s cool I guess. Cool, cool, cool.”

He took a step closer. “So, you want to get a drink tonight?”

I looked back up at him. And, for the first time in weeks, I didn’t want to come up with an excuse to say no. I smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

#luchasaurus #luchasaurus fanfiction #jurassic express #jurassic express fanfic #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #jungle boy #marko stunt

[grunge-mermaid]

grunge rewatches Doctor Who pt 2

01x06 "Dalek"

2012

they had such high hopes for 2012

that classic Cyberman head is nice

seriously, one of my favourite things about Doctor Who is that the classic series had an entirely digital theme and the new Who theme is performed by an orchestra

what on earth are those American accents

and there it is, the first appearance of a Dalek in New Who

I am giddy

I got kinda tired of the Daleks and Cybermen by the 11th doctor (why power ranger Daleks???) but nothing beats the first appearance of a Dalek

oof Christopher Eccleston's micro expressions in this scene are *chef's kiss*

I've gotten so used to Americans censoring "god damn it" that I forgot you could say it on British television

I'm gonna be completely honest: I don't actually know what a pepper pot is because I have only ever heard the term in relation to Daleks. but I'm guessing it's a pepper mill

"we discovered the cure for the common cold but we're not gonna sell it because we'll make more money selling palliatives" is just American capitalism in a nutshell

(if you're offended by how other countries portray yours in media, maybe you should look at how your country portrays itself to international audiences)

henchman: "what are you gonna do, sucker me to death?" Dalek: "yep, thanks for the suggestion!"

mocking the Dalek because you think it can't do stairs? STOP GIVING THE EVIL PEPPER POT IDEAS FOR HOW TO KILL YOU

I know Rose's constantly visible bra straps are intentional because she's supposed to be Super Realistic Human Woman and all that, but every time I see them, I want to yell at the wardrobe department for not doing their job properly (even though they did actually do their job properly)

the pronunciation of "Goddard" and "helipad" really betray the fake American accents

haven't even made it a full episode before getting distracted by garashir fanfic whoops

01x07 "The Long Game"

Bad Wolf Channel

only Jack Harkness could evolve into a giant face with the ability to get pregnant

Simon Pegg!

"ladies, gentlemen, multisex, undecided, or robot"

did they get these extras to just walk in off the street in their own clothes?

I think this is the first thing I ever saw Simon Pegg in?

that railing is supposed to be cold as ice why are you touching it with your bare hands?

Adam, you absolute piece of overcooked broccoli

Tamsin Greig!

it's amazing how so many details of this show live rent free in my head 14 years later

*looks up the actor who played Adam* ohhhhhh noooooooo

01x08 "Father's Day"

Big Dramatic Plot Point happens and I'm over giggling at garashir fanfic referencing Doctor Who. traditional earth ballad, indeed.

wait...are the Reapers here to infect the wound or to sterilize it? you're contradicting yourself, Doctor

sorry I'm really distracted by fanfic and this isn't really one of the better episodes

also it means a shorter post so maybe I shouldn't be sorry?

oh ffs the next episode is more zombies

01x09 "The Empty Child"/ 01x10 "The Doctor Dances"

it's mauve

red's camp

John Smith!

Psychic paper!

Rose is a trekkie!

oh fuck no

the only thing worse than zombies is zombie children

ok normal non-evil non-zombie children in general are also worse than zombies

those...are not the lyrics she's singing, Crave captioner person

are those even lyrics in that song?

I hate air raid sirens

you know what's really fun? when your local RCAF base decides to test the air raid sirens mere months after 9/11 without informing residents because social media didn't exist

yeah

I don't ever need to hear that sound again

Captain Jack: equal opportunity horndog

will forever do a double take at Glenn Miller when there's a village(?) just outside my hometown called Glen Miller

part 2!

do not like the gas mask POV it's making me dizzy

oh this was a Steven Moffat 2-parter?

he was much better as just a writer than a show runner

but why am I not surprised Moffat created Jack Harkness

Bananas are good

(I mean they're actually gross tho)

who looks a screwdriver and thinks 'ooh this could be a little more sonic'?

do we ever find out what happened to Jack's missing memories?

really not a fan of Moffat's recurring "motherhood is the most important role a woman can have" bullshit

(I'm assuming he wrote the Narnia Christmas special but he was still show runner at that time so I can still blame him for the misogyny)

ok that's way too cheesy an ending

I am not interested in another slitheen episode. Boom Town will have to wait for the next round.

#grunge rewatches doctor who #doctor who #dr who #ninth doctor #rose tyler #jack harkness #I really hate zombies ok #long post #but not as long as part 1 so you're welcome

[whenimgoodandready]

(patriotic music plays) In 1777, Lafayette was commissioned by General Washington to lead his troops in the American Revolution which led them to victory! This alliance between the French and Americans was what brought the holiday, The French-American Friendship Week🇫🇷🇺🇸. (record scratch) Okay, so it’s not a legit holiday cuz it was strictly made up for plot purposes on the show, but the events did happen as Americans and French are allies. History repeats itself so let’s see if our French heroes can ally with the American heroes in this very first Miraculous World trilogy of traveling:

Miraculous World

•New York – United HeroeZ-We start with a big damn intro that Thomas was probably inspired by other movie productions such as the “20th Century Fox” with its spotlights, “Universal” with its globe and even “Disney” with its Enchanted Castle. They even had an orchestra with the “Miraculous Ladybug” theme song playing (they went all out!). With the millions this show made it’s no surprise am I right or am I right!? Huh? Huh? Huh? HUH!? There’s a lot that went on in this special, and I know you’re all informed by it, even with the side stories, but I’m not gonna type all that went on and just put in the Pros and Cons so it can be faster. Let’s go:

Pros:

•The Space Powerups-Meet Cosmobug and Astrocat! Finally! We got to see their space forms and they looked pretty alright. Except they never really went to space and I would’ve preferred they did while battling some alien akuma, but it was still nice to see it. I liked Ladybugs space look best.

•The Native American Miracle Box-The final treat of the special and we see another miracle box and it’s guardian! Our first look is the Eagle miraculous which is a talon necklace that has an eagle like Kwami named Liiri who grants the user the power of liberation (which can be used for both good and evil). This was given to Sparrow who got promoted from sidekick to an independent hero! Congrats Sparrow! Fellow miraculers, I give you, Eagle! (trumpets sound). There was no eagle in the Native American zodiac, but I guess it’s part of the five pack and not the main duo like the Chinese Miracle box with its zodiac. There’s always the basic 12 zodiacs, the five elements and the two most important good/bad luck miraculouses. The guardian for the Native American miracle box was a chief like man who was stern, protective, and serious, but with a sense of understanding as he allowed Sparrow to keep their miraculous and start a new generation of supers with the rest thanks to Uncanny Valley.

•New York Heroes/Villains-Get this folks, Majestia, that superwoman Alya is a huge fan of, is real! Yeah! And Knightowl, Principal Damocles hero, is real too! Yeah! There’s barely any fiction in the Miraculous Universe and all we see, is real! These supers are amazing! There’s other heroes too, such as Snowflake, a snow elemental hero, Hurricane, a weather hero, Doorman, a portal traveler, Victory, a patriotic hero and Hot Dog Dan!? (record scratch). He’s uh, uhhhhhhh, a temporary power bestower through magic hot dogs?.............riiiiiiiiiight (clears throat). They’re enemies are a pirate themed technopath named Techno-Pirate (we already have Captain Hardrock for that, but I guess this is their American equivalent of it, so okay. (mutters under breath disappointedly) Wanted something more unique, but okay). Unlike the French heroes, the United Heroez don’t fall under the cliche of secret alter egos bulls*** and everyone in New York knows who they are (even the villain). I guess it’s cuz they’re mostly composed of courageous and righteous adults whereas Team Miraculous, are a bunch of insecure and awkward teenagers. Whomp! Whomp! Whomp! Not giving teens a bad name! The sidekicks of Majestia and Knightowl are Uncanny Valley, a robot girl, and Sparrow, a gadget wielding/combatant masked hooded youth, respectively. They’re the only ones who have to hide their identities (minus Knightowl for spoilers below) cuz they’re just children, but still badass cuz Aeon (aka Uncanny) figured out who Ladybug and Cat Noir were and reunited them to help save New York and Sparrow earned their wings to fly solo as a real hero.

Cons:

•Mr.Pigeon-(face palms) Hawk Moth, do you seriously want your wife back? Or are you just f**king stupid!? 51 TIMES!? (groans loudly and exasperated) You ARE mad and desperate! I understand it’s a kids show and some would find it funny that he keeps showing up, but older kids (and adults), would not! It’s no wonder we’ll be getting a new Hawk Moth in the future. One that actually creates formidable villains and not constantly recycles their old ones!

•Unnecessary Drama-So the plot said Marinette “convinces” Gabe (he had villainous intentions) to let Adrien go to New York, but Ladybug told Cat Noir to stay in Paris to watch out for any akumatizations while she’s “away”......well, we know that’s gonna be an issue, but there was no need. Adrien thought he had a plan to solve this by using his Akuma Alert app to check up on any danger in Paris and fly back quickly as Astrocat to signal Ladybug with this tiny black cat alarm she left him to come and help. Really? That’s the drama Hawkdaddy put in to spice up the special? Why couldn’t Ladybug just download the same app and use the Horse miraculous, which grants the power of teleportation, and fix the possible emergency herself!? If anything, she didn’t need to tell Cat to do jacks***! I understand the Akuma Alert back in “Riposte” cuz that happened during the show where the Parisians were getting accustomed to these attacks, but now, after what’s been a year already (in-universe), you’d think Marinette/Ladybug would be prepared to have that app like Adrien/Cat Noir, but no! She didn’t! Instead, we get this ridiculous, utterly ridiculous little black cat gadget that’s used for a dumb joke! Did Astruc not remember what he did on the show in the past seasons? Look back on your work, honey! IT’S CALLED RESEARCH! Ugh!

•New York stereotype-Like I mentioned up there with the United Heroez, Hot Dog Dan iiiiiiiiiiiiis not the most useful of supers cuz he sounds too stereotyped what with the setting being in New York where you can find a hot dog vendor (there’s even a hero named Captain Redlight who controls the traffic signal lights!) and he uses his powers for fun. That’s not all! Alya romanticized the theme of New York for Marinette and most of the time, we don’t picture that when we think of The Big Apple. When most Americans think of New York, they think crime, honking traffic jams, (911), big corporate businesses and the whole, “Hey! I’m walking here!”. Guess since this is a kids show, they didn’t wanna plant that idea in their young developing minds and just put in the “fun” aspects of New York! I get it. Don’t poison their heads.

That was our first Miraculous World special people. It was “interesting” and I’m sure you’ll agree with it too. I’m gonna elaborate more on the pros and cons of this and then mention the side stories in it. Now that we’ve seen the Native American miracle box, I think we’ll be seeing the American one next. Possibly in the Brazil special. Wonder how they’ll work with that since we have people and an object for our signs. Hmmmmm. I was real glad to see Sparrow cuz we all thought they’d be a scrapped character from the Quantic Universe, but no! They exist! (this was so much better then Felixs introduction). Mercury was even there too! Wow! We got to see the concept art come to life with members of the Quantic Kids! (wonder if Kid Mime might show up later?). Perhaps the whole United Heroez team is what inspires future Ladybug to create her own future Miraculous Justice League from “Timetagger”! What really surprised me was the LGBT Representation! The reveal that Knightowl was a woman along with Sparrow being a girl and that she (Knightowl) and Majestia are life partners with Aeon and Jess (Sparrow) being their children! For the longest time, we the fans thought Knightowl and Sparrow were male when in fact, they’re female! Nice twist there Astruc! The Knightowl and Sparrow are actually legacy heroes where the sidekick would take over for Knightowl and find a new Sparrow all with regardless of their race/gender/sexual orientation. I like that. What I didn’t like was the whole Mr.Pigeon running gag (it’s actually becoming a literal gag! >:P) there’s gonna be a moment where he’ll get called out on it, wait for that! However, it transitioned from overused creators favorite to super anarchy and nuclear war! What a dramatic climatic change! Like I mentioned, Ladybug didn’t really need to involve Cat in the whole emergency situation, but just to emphasize the trust issues between them and input drama into the special (ignoring the plot holes), Astruc gave us a near death scene with poor Uncanny Valley and thank God she was a robot or Cat would’ve gotten a can of whompa** from Majestia. Knightowl wanted to confiscate the dynamic duos miraculouses, but I don’t think they had any jurisdiction to do so. They’re an American super and they’re Parisian supers. However, since this does take place after Season 3, and Ladybug is now the guardian, it’s her choice whether they should or not and her idea was just for the two to run. This also brought the headscratcher of fans on how Ladybugs powers work? She said her “Miraculous Ladybug” power only works on a specific villain and not all villains (like the sentimonster that was shown during Techlonizers attack). Does her power not bring back the dead (that aren’t robots?), can it only fix a cataclysm power from Cat Noir? (shrugs). Unlike “Syren”, Cat quits for real this time! (for about 5mins) It hurt Marinette/Ladybug thinking she was all alone now. A Yang without her Yin. Not a good sign. What Marinette/Ladybug needs to understand is that Cat has a double life too, she shouldn’t assume it would be a breeze for him to watch Paris by himself and that he might have friends and family he can’t explain why he can’t do this and that and make up insane excuses like she does all the time. This wouldn’t be “Miraculous Ladybug” if we didn’t have shippers trying to make Adrienette happen, Alya tries to get Marinette to confess and Nino tries to get Adrien to open up. They get double ship help from Aeon and Jess, but even with the Americans allied with the French on this, Hawk Moth still co*kblocked it. Course with all the major plots involved, they added in several sub plots just to expand the special and fill the gaps such as Ms.Bustier revealed to be pregnant (who’s the daddy?), Ms.Mendeleiev trying to win over the class, Adriens Bodyguards fear of heights and Sabrinas love interest. The special foreshadowed that Marinette/Ladybugs conflict for Season 4 will be learning to move on (same w/ Adrien/Cat Noir) now that it’s strongly implied that Adrigami and Lukanette are canon. See ya all in 2021!

#miraculous ladybug #united heroez #miraculous New York

[prairiedust]

Gimme Shelter livewatch under the cut.... I was on my phone when I wrote it so apologies for the typos

“Patchwork Community Center: Care Given to All” with a huge, lurid heart. Hmmm.... patchwork having two meanings here.....

Pastor (?) has 2 Timothy 2:22 tattooed on his arm! “Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.” (NIV) Are we looking at growth and found family in this episode?!?

Oh that’s the alleyway!

Hitting mythology themes— Connor is an Anglicized version of an Irish name— Conchobar mac Nessa is maybe the most famous bearer of the name, from Irish mythology— he’s the king who lusted after Deirdre and had her locked up until she came of age, which is probably neither here nor there as far as this poor Connor is concerned...

That thing has a big lurid heart on his overalls better run lol— Oh shit it’s an evil Teddy Ruxpin!!!! Thanks Davy Perez!!!!

That’s the thing animal control uses to manage aggressive animals??? Is this saying something about the Patchwork people?

And that’s it for the cold open.

——

The uh, the mcfuckin what, the Camelot Palace Casino? Is this a tour of the legends of Ireland and Britain all of a sudden? What’s with hitting this theme so hard so fast?

Uh-oh the whole Highway to Heaven reference has me side-eyeing Dean’s suggestion for Cas snd Jack to leave the bunker... Dabb even “spoiled” that line in a tweet lol... in that show the cop and the angel got their (vague) assignments from the big guy.......

Oh SHIT “we’re standing in what I call ‘the trap zone’” Perez is coming for my whole life with this episode!!!! And they’re doing highkey “season one totally-normal Winchester investigation questions script” I love it!!!!

“Slasher flick” Oh we’re revisiting Mint Condition. This is fine.

AND TOMBSTONE THIS IS NOT FINE DAVY! We’re running the good times backwards what did I say about this being the flipside of Last Holiday!

H2H again but this time it’s sus... plus I’m with Zack, I totally want the cozy murder spinoff I imagined Adam and Michael doing plz

Oh the Cas and Jack dynamic here is so sweet.

Pastor just leaving his door open like there’s no such thing as a thief bless his heart. They must be torn up about Connor but Pastor was the last one to talk to him so he’s sus I don’t make the rules.

Oh no Red’s a THIEF!!! Who ever would have guessed. Okay I did NOT expect that jumpscare because of the way Connor’s murder primed me, that was masterfully done.

That’s vaguely an Ohio Star quilt square on the sign behind her except um I forget what that tilted square in the center turns it into? It’s chiming with something... I’ll have to look that up later.

“Divide and conquer” no never split up in a slasher movie that’s how you get murders use the buddy system!

Gonna stop a sec because I just realized that Zack is two-faced. The British dandy was an act. The killer is wearing a Cinderella mask. Ok I’m gonna make a prediction that Zack is actually the killer, a la the demon in Repo Man...

Okay there was definitely a beat after Dean said “Glad soneone’s taking charge” [ofHell] and the focus shifted to Sam. Hm.

“We’ve got to set her up for her own death” so meta, these writers are gonna shred us.

I love being shown how much Castiel has changed throughe Jack not understanding the Kool-Aid reference. And the cats line lol. That’s both amazing and poignant.

That’s a log cabin pattern in the cafeteria. Home. Makes me think back on other quilts we’ve seen this season and if “weaving” is the right metaphor for writing lol. I mean, the action of “patching” is synonymous with “mending” or even healing, but patchwork is also a craft with a long, long history in America (idk if quiltmaking is called patchwork everywhere) of taking a few often mismatched fabrics and cutting and sewing into something beautiful. There are generally two kinds of quilt tops— patterns, like we’ve seen so far in this season, which are carefully planned and involve precise measurements, and “crazy quilts” which also require skill but are often more freeform and piecemeal. But both aspire to be beautiful. That’s an interesting way to conceptualize a serial text... as both creating and mending....

That prayer was sweet and not at all what I was expecting.

I get the finger-cutting for Valerie (stealing=sticky fingers) but not for Connor? Tenuous connection still betw lying and writing? It’s evocative of Se7en but the killer seems to have the same MO for all the killings (I attended CSI for a while.)

Snow White is making me uneasy. Oh she’s the preacher’s daughter... we’ve seen that in early days, too.... oh.... oh....

It’s not the AV guy despite having seen all the AV equipment around Valerie. That’s too easy.

“A saint is a sinner who keeps trying-“ no scroll back, the important part was “we all have to take care of each other.” That’s a theme in the series.

She’s all in pink....

dean and amara on the same wavelength about food lol

Ha ha inversion of “oh you’re a fan of religion? name all seven gods then.”

Castiel’s testimony just wrecked me.

“Members serve the gift of food” hmmm the signs in this episode are tip-top

Gonna just watch for a while.

Oh crap “each is a finger” oh it’s about the sins of the father— No Cas no, you’ve fallen for the misdirection!

Oh okay good, Chuck’s not done snuffing worlds. That had me REALLY WORKED UP ha ha because Amara has no reason to lie right?

That was a really good conversation.... and implying that Former Death bent the truth...

Oh fuck I’m gonna cry “I wanted younto see that your mother was just a person” YES! DISMANTLE THIS MYTHOLOGY AMARA!!! Name it!

THE MYTH THAT YOU’D HELD ON TO FOR SO LONG did they just— THEY DID

rigging the game— ftfoh with the casino metaphors already we know the house always wins except when it doesn’t

Lying, lying, lying,

Do we even know Snow White’s name yet? And why was Connor a liar? Because I think we can make a guess at this point.... ah ha ha her name is sylvia— “forest spirit” she’s Mrs Butters— and she’s after hypocrites— but the killing isn’t supernatural, just churchy?

Oh shit SHE IS A DEAN MIRROR IF SHE STABS JACK I’LL FLIP A DAMN TABLE

....

....

prairiedust.exe has encountered an error and must be restarted

....

....

Okay so “Dad” steps in and stops Sylvia’s attack on Jack...

Why is that Zack? What????

“I’ve been lying to you” oh here we go

Oh it would be death #3, remember what Dabb said about threes a long time ago, two attempts that are unsuccessful and one that satisfies the parameters— but no he’s a jack :((((

I have to stop watching for a while.

Okay I finished it. Holy cats do I have some Thoughts about this episode.

What I loved: Revisiting Dean’s anger, BUT the parental mirror here (in retrospect, at least for me) was a John mirror-- all the mothers (exc for Rowena) in this episode are dead. And Pastor Joe didn’t apparently embrace his wife’s faith until she had died, and then his vision was radically different than his wife’s was-- much like John’s reasons for becoming a hunter were vastly different from Mary’s... but much like “patching” this subtext was possibly even more “healing” than having John back in the 300th ep... This was... looking at a child’s anger when they’re in the middle of their own family mythology. Am I implying that Dean’s anger is immaturity? Eh, it’s... unripeness. I have an old meta in my drafts about the heroine’s journey and why Mary’s story conformed to it while feeling totally unfulfilling in her actual character arc and I’m so glad I sat down and examined that rather than finish it. I have a lot I want to say about Cas’ testimony too, but that has to sit a while. ALSO also, Cas has already thrown away his shot by making the Empty deal, right?....

LANGUAGE! Cas saying “I found myself lost” is a bonkers sentence, right? It’s like when people say someone “turned up missing”-- AND it does not have the same meaning as “I realized I was lost”-- you get a double whammy of the connotation “to search for.” I loved loved loved how language was such a big deal in Last Holiday and then again here, I need to rewatch while paying closer attention to Sylvia and things she says... but these two were sister episodes in so many ways, that when I said there was a “lack of narrative mirrors” in Last Holiday, that’s only because the lens for that kind of reading is Gimme Shelter. That is not the first time spn has played with a “coin” or paired structure-- I think the first time I noticed it was Fan Fiction/Ask Jeeves but I was a transfer student from another fandom at the time lol. But of course, we get a huge truth bomb at the end of the episode, and again that splashy cymbal all over lying...

What I got wrong-- Zack wasn’t the killer but he’s fishy as hell-- he stole Sylvia! Is this part of Rowena’s “people generally end up where they deserve to be” except she’s built in an express lane? “Do you need a driver” is that his actual job now? Taking unripe souls to Hell Orientation? What’s up with him being there... the other shoe did not drop. So there is a third episode out there somewhere where this might get wrapped up? The conversation between Dean and Cas can easily be something that happens offscreen, and I don’t think that it would be the first time we miss an “important” conversation, especially since we know roughly what will be said and how it will wrap up-- it’s an “open text” of a sort. Maybe a fanfiction gap lol, I can’t wait for the codas.

Also, the fingers thing being Sylvia’s father’s favorite analogy is where she got her MO, something that I definitely didn’t see, although it fits right in with her father’s slightly pithy character. I think it’s interesting again how we’re playing with threes and fours. Three fingers got cut off but it was apparent that Valerie (valorious one) wouldn’t die until finger #4.... Jack really seems to be our last hope.

#the folklore of supernatural #the mythology of supernatural #mary winchester #davy perez #the second timothy of supernatural #gimme shelter #season 15 #my mom gave me the family baby name book when i was about eleven and so i had an obsession with names #all of my characters in all of my stories had Important Symbolic Names LOL #it amused my father who told me I needed to read herman melville #and there's a little bit of my own family mythos. #now i harangue my own kid to write and stuff ha ha ha except instead of a baby name book i gave him watership down #same effect #more rabbit fighting

[laurazepamwrites]

The Chemicals between us ~ Ch.10

The Italian government had taken great steps to preserve the beauty of Venice, tourists now roamed the streets sampling the local Gelato and Pizzerias, taking romantic walks along the many canal sides and enjoying relaxing Gondola rides. If one was to scratch the surface and peer under the sophisticated culture and peaceful environment Venice had to offer they would see the vicious underbelly that lived unnoticed among people and Omnics alike. A decade had not even passed since the infamous Rialto Incident, a covert mission gone wrong that was a turning point for both Overwatch and Talon. For Overwatch the mission had been a disaster and eventually became its downfall, For Talon it created a power vacuum that was quickly filled by Akande Ogundimu the ‘successor’.  It was in the long deceased Antonios office that the formidable terrorist leader now stood behind the rich mahogany desk and watched the unassuming Venice below from the very window Gabriel Reyes had shot the former occupant through. To the right of him, barely visible from the shadows, a living memory of a woman stood, her cold eyes watching Akande's guest from where he stood the other side of the desk. She had smirked when he refused to sit, Men of all kinds liked to play their power games.

‘You promised Akande.’ A metallic voice spoke.

Akande took a moment to reply as he watched an Omnic Gondolier help a young family on to his boat. The child happily took its hand as she climbed aboard, no sense of fear, no mistrust. She was born in happier times. ‘      Ignorant.’ he thought, turning to his guest. ‘I remember exactly what I promised. I hope you do not insult me by thinking Talon will not deliver. I am Talon and I will reward my allies. As long as they are patient and continue to play their part.’

The silence hung heavy in the room and the woman's fingers twitched with impatience. ‘Give me the name.’ She thought.‘Give me the name and he will not leave this room.’  Yet eventually and to her disappointment the light glinted off the metal of the guests body as he nodded his understanding, at that moment a heavy hand knocked on the large double doors of the office.

 ‘That will be our meeting over my friend.’ Said Akande, holding his hand out. Shrike, the leader of Null sector, considered before taking it and shaking once. ‘Enter.’ Akande called and the doors opened slowly revealing Reaper. He and Shrike ignored each other as they passed, Reaper remained silent until he heard the door close behind him.

 ‘Gabriel.’ Akande said ‘If you please?’ He gestured to the empty chair.

 ‘I’m not staying.’ He replied, he heard the woman in the shadows scoff.

 ‘As you wish.’ Replied Akande as he returned his attention back to the view outside. ‘Like my new windows? Double reinforced.’ He smirked as he tapped them with his knuckles. He heard a growl from behind him. ‘A joke to lighten the mood Gabriel, and I have much reason to be unhappy. You have not obtained my prize.’

 ‘Its under more protection than we thought.’

 ‘Ah yes..the Junker. Then dare I ask why have you not brought him?’

 ‘ He’s under more protection than we thought. Somehow Overwatch has got him.’ Reaper growled.

 Akande laughed and walked over to a beautifully carved drinks cabinet and selected a vintage whisky. He glanced at Reaper as he poured two glasses, ‘So that's what happened in Darwin, and now you mean to tell me the last remains of overwatch bested my soldiers and indeed you?’

 ‘They were prepared. Your men were arrogant, that's why they are all dead.’

 Akande placed the glass of whisky in front of him and took a sip of his own. ‘Yet here you still stand.’

 ‘I went for recon, not for battle. I've learned who the target is with.’

 ‘And have you learned where the target and Overwatch are? What was the last watchpoint they used?’

 ‘That watchpoint is long abandoned after I stole the agent files, they would be foolish to remain there. Sombra scans every watchpoint weekly and has come up with nothing.’

 ‘She is on thin ice.’ Akande stated. ‘I feel her allegiance wavers.’

 ‘You would lose your best hacker over feeling than fact Akande? Let her play her games and she delivers, she is your best bet at finding them.’

 ‘Is that trust I hear Gabriel?’

 ‘No more than I have for you.’

 Akande smirked and took another sip. ‘It's quite the vintage’ He said as he studied the amber liquor. ‘A pity you are too ashamed to remove your mask to sample it. I thought O’deorian did a remarkable job.’

 Reaper ignored the slight and looked toward the strange woman who in turn was watching him with curiosity. ‘Why is she here?’

 ‘Bad behaviour.’ Stated Akande. ‘Killed four men whilst she underwent her treatment. She screamed for her husband and drove a pen through one of the scientist's eyes when he told her she herself had murdered him, I admire her creativity.’

 ‘They taunted her.’ Snarled Reaper. ‘Amelie is not a plaything!’

 ‘Is that sympathy for your deceased friend's wife, Gabriel?’

 ‘Realism. She knows too much of our mission to risk her slipping.’

 ‘It is already being dealt with. Our good doctor will take her back into her care soon enough then she can return to work.’

 Amelies eyes widened with fear and she looked desperately to the door, Akande noticed and snapped his fingers at her, the crack in her mask disappearing as quickly as it appeared as her eyes glazed over once again and she cooly returned her gaze to the two men before her.

 ‘Hmm’ Akande grunted ‘Much easier to quell then Siebren..’

 ‘My orders?’ Reaper asked, sounding bored.

 ‘Now that we are certain of Overwatch's return I want you personally in charge of wiping them out for good. Despite their lack of resources and men they have still got in our way and more importantly they have the target, our vision can only go so far without the final piece.’

 ‘If he even has it.’

 ‘One thing I am certain to find out in my mission of goodwill, my friend. Keep in contact, soon Shrike will engage phase two and on my return the council will be summoned.

 Reaper groaned as he made to leave. ‘Just don't sit me next to Moira.’

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

 The briefing room was buzzing with conversation and excited chatter over the success of the latest mission as everyone talked -and shouted- amongst themselves.

‘Reinhardt why does your armour have a huge dent in it?’

‘I earned it from strength and valantry my young squire!’

‘It was a wall.’ Said Zarya.

‘- And their mech had nothing on us right Fareeha?’

‘We were lucky, and actually you were-’

 ‘Pure skill Lucio!’

 ‘-Bring ya back a souvenir next time i'm out Frosty? How’s bout a snow globe.’

 ‘I'll throw it at your head!’

 ‘Reckon she's still pissed with me Hog..’

 ‘Children, behave!’ Ana clapped her hands for attention as she entered with Jack and Winston,

 when they approached the table jack remained standing to address the team. ‘First I want to offer congratulations for our recent mission, as I'm sure everyone now knows it was predominantly a success. The weapons cache was destroyed and We’ve gained valuable information and more avenues to work from. One thing in particular we will certainly be investigating,  Athena? Play the viskar security file.’

 ‘What?!’ Exclaimed Lucio, jumping from his chair and leaning in to stare intently at the holographic footage of the Talon weapons compound welcoming Sanjay Korpal. Athena paused the footage on Sanjay's smiling face.

 ‘This is Sanjay Korpal, he is one of the head officials for the Vishkar corporation, recently he has been seen meeting with Talons accountant Maximillien and very recently he was at the Bryansk weapons compound flown in by Talon aircraft. We have little idea as yet to his reason for visiting but Ii think I can safely say he could be one of the council, with this lead we can-’

 ‘I  KNEW IT!’ Lucio shouted triumphantly, slapping the table for effect, ‘I knew it! This is amazing! We can bring Vishkar down with this! Yeah man up top!’ He high fived Junkrat sitting next to him. ‘Commander Morrison! Sir! You gotta let me in on this, I….i’m gonna sit down and be quiet now sir, my bad, sorry..’ He slunk down in his seat under Jack's unamused eye.

 ‘All done? Good. With this lead we can focus on Vishkar and look for more evidence on their connection with Talon, this could be an isolated incident and Sanjay is working alone or the entire company is involved. Getting to Sanjay will be near impossible but we may be able to infiltrate one of their offices. Winston will talk you through the plan.’ He nodded to Winston as he took his seat and the Great ape cleared his throat as Athena changed the footage to a photo of one of Vishkars many office buildings. ‘Here we have the Viskar corp Offices based in Turkey, conveniently its the closest one to us and Athena has flagged up that vishkars most decorated Architect has recently been stationed there, her name is Satya Vaswani. Interestingly she was last to be seen at the Oasis university where  Dr Moira O’Deorian is minister of genetics.’

 Angela made a distasteful noise and muttered under her breath which was shared by many of her teammates who knew the scientist as once one of their own until her greed for knowledge twisted her and enticed her to join Talon where she was free to do as she pleased regardless of human cost.

 McCree uttered a curse and rubbed at his beard, ‘We know where that witch is. Why not go get her? Hell, I’ll happily tie that woman to a stake.’

 ‘Unfortunately she is well protected by her position as a minister as well as her status within Talon.’ Ana answered. ‘Which may also implicate Oasis as having Talon ties but we can't investigate every single place they step foot in, they hide well and cover their tracks.’

 ‘Not unless you are Sanjay.’ Genji chuckled darkly.’Maybe just wait it out and Talon will assassinate him themselves for blowing his cover.’

 ‘I’d prefer him alive but as we have no idea where he currently is following his trip to Bryansk our best bet is his architect, he is personally in charge of Vaswani and she may know something.’ Said Morrison

 ‘Bet she does.’ Lucio interrupted. ‘Someone that cold and ready to destroy good peoples lives can’t be on a moral level.’

 ‘Yes thank you Lucio dear.’ Ana said patiently.

 ‘How do we get into a Viskar building?’ Asked Fareeha. ‘A company that size and with Talon connections must be well guarded.’

 ‘It will be quietly done.’ Answered Morrison who ignored McCree’s chuckle, ‘No teams, no storming the building, one person undercover.’

 Junkrat nodded in apparent understanding, ‘I’m sure Winston will do a great job.’ He grinned at his successful joke as Hana and McCree burst out laughing.

 ‘Very good Jamison, but it shall be myself taking this task.’ Ana smiled, ‘And please don't look at me like that Fareeha. One day you’ll find out there are at least some quirkes to being a woman my age.’

 ‘How do you propose to get in?’ Asked Genji.

 Ana smiled mischievously and tapped her nose, ‘I have my ways children, I have my ways.’

 ‘Let's move on.’ Said Morrison as the holograph disappeared, he paused before continuing and weighed his words. ‘I know there's divided opinion to Omnics within the base but I will ask you all to remain amicable, especially with what I am about to show you. Athena?’ There were murmurings of curiosity as the AI began to play the found footage of the captured Omnics. A range of emotions showed around the table from shock to impassiveness and in Junkrats case, boredom. Soon his mind began to wander and he started to fidget, a glint caught his eye and he found himself studying Mei’s hair pin. He wondered how it kept her hair up, then he thought it would make a good improv weapon then suddenly the thought of her stabbing him with it if he pushed her far enough. Wonder what her hair looks like if she wore it down, how long was it?...Suddenly his stomach growled lightly. He had forgot to eat again. A nudge from roadhog.

 ‘Huh?’

 Roadhog nodded towards Morrison who had apparently been talking the entire time. What was he on about again?

 ‘Why give any thought to some random missing Omnics?’ Asked Zarya. ‘Surely we have bigger issues?’

 ‘I agree.’ Grunted Torbjorn.

 ‘Do we know why they are taking them?’ Questioned Angela. Ana shook her head sadly ‘I’m afraid not, it seems they were just in Bryansk temporarily and moved on quickly to who knows where. Talons' flight movements are heavily encrypted and there is only so much Athena can unearth.’

 ‘We believe Talon had at least three groups of Omnics move through here, some er..remains were found.’ Said Winstons.

 Junkrat scoffed ‘Spare parts’ he muttered under his breath.

 ‘This could well be an isolated incident.’ Said Ana ‘And if so we don't have the resources to find out what became of these Omnics, it is up to the local authorities to follow up the disappearances..unfortunately that is unlikely. However there could be a pattern here, other disappearances, reports maybe. I need a volunteer to research and..yes Mei dear?’

 Mei's hand was eagerly up in the air like a student trying to get her teacher's attention. ‘I’ll do it ma’am!’

 ‘Very good. Thank you Mei we shall await your findings.’ Mei settled back into her seat looking pleased, finally she had a task at hand that held some importance. She smiled shyly to herself as Jack stood up once more to address the room. ‘Hang on a minute Jack.’ Said McCree lazily lifting his arm in the air, ‘I think we’re overlooking a rather important detail here..Just who the hell was that guy that tried to grab the kid?’

 ‘Probably just one of Moiras freaks guarding the place. No doubt the explosion finished him off.’

 Torbjorn said dismissively. Jack and Ana gave each other a dark searching look before Ana eventually nodded. Jack sighed and raised his hands for silence. ‘His name is Reaper.’ He said solemnly, ‘He is an assassin for Talon and the one responsible for attacking this base and stealing agent information. Me and Ana have been tracking him for months now before he kills any more of our own. Some of you here have had dealings with him before and lived to tell the tale. The fact that Fawkes is still here and not dead confirms he’s wanted alive.’

 ‘What's under the mask Jack? Do we know who he is?’ Winston asked.

 Jack thought of his words carefully, ‘I don't know who the man behind that mask is.’ Ana raised her eyebrow at him from behind her steeped fingers yet remained silent. ‘All we know he has orchestrated many Talon attacks including this base, Volskaya and tried to steal the doomfist Gauntlet. Winston and Tracer fought him off but in his failure he then proceeded to free Akande Ogundimu  ‘The Successor’. Lena shuddered in her seat and lightly touched her chronal accelerator, vividly remembering the powerful gauntlet snatching her from the air and crushing her anchor.

 ‘Whoa back up a fucking minute mate!’ Said Junkrat, ‘Youre saying this goth fuck knows we’re here?!’

 It was Winston who answered. ‘Not exactly. I was the only one here when Reaper and his strike team invaded to steal the data. After the fight I immediately sent the recall and with Athena we fortified this place as much as possible. We have beacons set around the base within a mile radius that give off a ‘cloaking effect’. It basically shields us from spy drones and gives the illusion of abandonment.’

 Junkrat nodded his head as he tried to get his head around this new information. ‘Okay..okay..so      You're     the one to blame if he rocks up at the front gates.’

 Winston looked offended, ‘Well in the very rare circumstance that one of the beacons happened to malfunction there may be some responsibility but blame is a strong word and i don't appreciate-’

 ‘We’re protected for now Fawkes. Leave it at that. If you want to leave you know what you need to do.’ Interjected Jack. To Junkrat this seemed to be the perfect time to slouch back into his chair, fold his arms and scowl, Jack chose to ignore him and continued. ‘Now that Doomfist is free he has shaken up the hierarchy of Talon and has become head of the council with Reaper at his side. Me and Ana last saw him in Egypt, from there we lost his trail and got word of Winstons recall.’

 ‘And now we’re all one big happy family again.’ Drawled McCree, ‘Missing a few folks and adding a few of course.’ He drew a cigar from his pocket. ‘Is this meeting done?’

 ‘Oh i fucking hope so.’ Muttered Junkrat.

 ‘All dismissed, return to your duties. Mei? Lets have that report by tomorrow AM.’ Said Jack. Mei smiled and nodded as she got up to leave, Ana remained seated with her fingers still steeped in front of her and a slight frown on her face. When the room had emptied Jack turned to her. ‘Go on then, say your piece Amari.’

 Ana sighed, lowering her hands and looking up at Jack. ‘Why did you not tell them that Gabriel is Reaper?’

 Jack was ready for this, ‘The same reason you didn't. It wasn't the right time.’

 ‘And when is the ‘right’ time?’

 Jack sat down next to her. ‘Honestly? I don't know. I don't know if we should even tell them. Half of the team don't even know who he is.’

 ‘But half of them do Jack. He was their friend, comrade. He played with my child, he was Jesse’s mentor!’

 ‘And how do we explain to them that he has murdered our own?’

 Ana had no answer for him. They both sat in silence for a few moments lost in their own thoughts, eventually Jack spoke again. ‘I know we will have to tell them the truth sooner or later Ana..but not like this. It has to be done delicately.’

 ‘I know..they’ll be angry with us Jack.’

 Jack laughed bitterly, ‘Just blame it on me Ana, God knows i deserve it.’

 Ana tutted ‘You're not responsible for what Gabriel has become.’

 ‘Aren't I?’

 ‘No.’ She stated firmly. ‘He chose this path Jack. You were both in that explosion..did you feel the need to dress up in a costume, become a serial killer and join the same terrorist organisation you tried to bring down?’

 Jack smirked and then a thought occurred to him. ‘Do you think Talon knows who he is?’

 ‘I believe so, he’s a weapon against us in more ways than one and a huge advantage to them.’

 ‘....I’m going to kill him Ana.’

 ‘For revenge or to put him out of his misery?’

 ‘Both I suppose.’

 Ana sighed and stood up to leave. ‘I think Gabriel died in Switzerland Jack, whatever wretch he is now is no longer redeemable...but i don't believe you could ever bring yourself to kill the man who was your dearest friend.’

 ‘I suppose we will find out soon enough.’ Jack replied, her words in his mind. Could he really bring himself to do it?

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

 Finally feeling encouraged and a task at hand, Mei had headed straight to one of the smaller computer labs and began the search for any news of Omnic disappearances. Much of the team would think it was a waste of time but Commander Morrison was right, If Talon was involved it couldn't be good. Besides, she was a firm believer in Omnic rights and doing what was right and good, and this was certainly the right thing to do to help these omnics and possibly give closure to the families of the missing. A sudden intrusive thought entered her mind of her teammates' families, desperate for closure when they discovered the Cryostasis had malfunctioned. ‘They hate me.’ She thought. ‘They hate me for surviving instead of their loved ones.’ Her droid, sensing her sadness snuggled against her. Mei took a deep breath to compose herself and gratefully petted her little friend. ‘Thank you Snowball. Don't you worry about me, I'm fine. Honest.’ Snowball made a sceptical emotive at her but Mei had already turned back to the screen and was typing away eagerly. Ten minutes had passed with no results, had no one made any reports at all? Maybe Bryansk was too much of a hot zone for Omnics for anyone to care, maybe their families felt it no use to report the disappearances. Maybe she was just wasting her time here..the thought made her miserable. ‘Hey Snowball? Happen to know of any missing Omnics outside of Russia?’ She asked glumly. The little droid shook side to side and a message of ‘sorry.’ flashed on its screen. Mei sighed, ‘Guess you're just as out of the loop as I am..’ She turnt to the sound of the door sliding open behind her. ‘Oh great..’ She thought.

 ‘Aw why so sad Frosty?’ Junkrat asked as he sauntered in and sat down heavily on a spare seat and draped both his legs over the armrest, he gave Snowball a suspicious glare. Mei ignored his question and typed away more fervently, ‘What do you want?’ She asked.

 ‘I’m on free time Frosty, I’d say I earned it. With my successful mission and what not.’

 ‘Yes I heard how you oh so bravely destroyed a building.’ She replied sarcastically.

 ‘Now now no need to get all snippy cos you're jealous, I'm sure you're getting your fill on your silly little quest here. How's that going by the way?’

 Mei shot him a glare, ‘You're not in here because you care.’

 ‘Too right I don't, think you're wasting your time personally. No one cares bout some missing bots.’

 ‘Of course they do! I do!’

 ‘Yeah? Having much luck finding missing Bots from a place currently at war with them?’

 ‘Just get to the point.’ Moaned Mei, rubbing her eyes behind her glasses.

 ‘No one said those Bots n bolts even came from that place, fuck they might not even be from Russia. Those Ruskies have the right idea about bots, far as I know hardly any of em live there.’

 ‘Look if your just here to spew your hate then you can-’

 ‘Whats that stupid city called in Africa? Numble something or fucking other?’

 ‘Numbani. You're thinking of Numbani’

 Junkrat waved her off. ‘Whatever, point is they live with Omnics there right? Like.. peacefully..? I calls it bullshit but anyways, If Omnics are going missing or being taken by Talon then  maybe they know more about it? If not then it's probably just a random thing and you can forget about wasting your time here with your shitty little icemaker.’

Snowball flashed red and a tirade of insults crossed its screen making Mei smirk, but he had given her food for thought. Maybe she was missing the bigger picture. She turned back to her computer and searched for omnic disappearances on a Numbani journalist website, She felt Junkrat scoot closer on his chair to better see. Headlines flashed up of Omnics being attacked and businesses vandalised but nothing struck out about Omnics missing or kidnappings. Mei groaned in frustration. ‘Fine. Just say it! Im wasting my time!’

 ‘Just fucking hang on a minute and stop moaning.’ He retorted, half standing and leaning over her.

‘You smell like bonfire.’ She wrinkled her nose.

‘That would be from the bonfire I started.’

‘What?! Where-?’

‘Relax, I left Hog to put it out.’ He replied lazily as he typed.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Helping.’

 Mei snorted, ‘Oh that's what you call it.’

 He ignored her as he typed away, Mei felt annoyed and scowled unbeknownst at him for invading her personal space but she made no attempt to move back herself. ‘At Least he had a shirt on today.. ‘ His arms are rather muscular..What?! Why did I notice that? Just..Just keep scowling.’  

 ‘You're not going to find anything I wouldn't have done.’ She snapped.

 Junkrat grinned, sat back down and finger gunned at the screen. ‘Eat those words Frosty!’

 Mei looked at the computer, a recent article loaded about ‘Liberte’ the revolutionary Omnic artist famous for his political street art.

     ‘You need only to travel the Quartier Omnic to see the incredible  

     Art of Omnic artist Liberte. His thought provoking pierces strike a cord  

      of Omnic and humans alike with his distinctive technique…’  

 Mei stopped reading. ‘I don't get it? So you found some Artist, never would guess you would appreciate anything like that.’

 ‘Harsh. Look just read the article woman. It's gone AWOL.

 ‘But that could mean anything.’ Mei argued, ‘Maybe he’s…’

 ‘What? Under the weather? Come down with something? Been fucking nicked?’

 ‘It's really not likely you just so happened to pick a missing omnic out a haystack.’

 ‘No but I reckon no ones gonna give a shit if some random Bots go missing, but It raises a few eyebrows if a kinda famous one goes off radar. If you bothered to read the rest you’ll see he’s missed his last three events. The last rally was even cancelled because some Null sector bots got caught nearby.’

 ‘Wait what? Really?’

 ‘Oooh now she's interested!’

 ‘Sssh!’ Mei scanned the article quickly, sure enough Three rallies were cancelled, two due to ‘personal reasons’ but the other because Null sector, the extremist Omnic group was found not two towns over. It was certainly suspicious. Mei quickly searched the social media and news outlets of the town in question, Calais. Her breath caught in her throat,  there were three social media posts looking for information on Omnics not seen for 48hours, four days, Over a week. Mei let out a squeal and clapped her hands in excitement as Snowball did a flip in the air.

 ‘Aww, I’m happy when Omnics go missing too..’

 ‘No its-! Shut up I found something! I can work on this!’

 ‘ I found something.’

 ‘Ok fine you helped.’

 She began printing out pages of what she found and couldn't help but smile, Commander Morrison will definitely be interested If Null sector was involved in any way.

 ‘Oi can I look at your pin?’

 The question came at a surprise and shocked her out of her thoughts. ‘Excuse me?’

 ‘Pointy thing in your hair.’

 ‘Erm..?’ She lightly touched it, the smooth shiny red bauble on the end to the pointed metal snowflake. ‘Why?’

 ‘Dunno, looks nice i guess..like..I dunno. Just asking.’

 ‘I..erm..’ Mei looked uncomfortable and had visions of him dropping it as soon as she handed it to him. ‘I’m not sure..My dad gave it to me.’

 ‘Alright, Fair do’s say no more.’

 ‘Sorry, it's just..It's      really     precious to me.’

 ‘S’alright I'm not gonna break it, I'm surprisingly delicate.’ He giggled. ‘Kinda have to be with what I do.’

 ‘I meant no offense.’

 ‘None taken. If i had something like that id let no fucker touch it.’

 She looked at him for a second, a question on the tip of her tongue..’Don’t you have..?’ She shook her head, she didn't want to be insensitive and she had heard Jamison could be defensive. ‘Nevermind.’ She stood up and collected her printed pages. ‘I'm going to take these to compile a report for the commander..and erm..thanks?’

 Junkrat folded his arms behind his head, ‘Ya know..you should tell him you’re gonna go to that town to investigate.’

 ‘I ..I did think..should I?’ Mei looked unconvinced.

 ‘Why the fuck not? You wanted the task to get more info, you did all the legwork. Why stay here at the last hurdle?

 Why      should    she remain here? She did have all the information to devise a mission plan. Junkrat was right though it pained her to think it.

 ‘You know what..Im going to tell the commander im going to Calais!’ She said feeling encouraged.

 ‘Atta girl, stick it to the man!’

 ‘I will!’

 ‘Hope it does turn out to be a waste of time.’

 ‘I...wow! You just had to ruin it didn't you?’ She snapped.

 Junkrat laughed, ‘Go on, fuck off to the Old man.’

 ‘Fine I will.’

 ‘Good.’

 ‘Good!’

 ‘Good!’ He said mocking her voice

 ‘Ugh!’ Mei tried hard to slam the sliding door but it refused, closing painstakingly slowly and making her feel like she had truly lost that round as she turned on the spot trying to save the last of her dignity. ‘Act your damn age Mei Ling!’ She told herself.

#meihem #junkmei #otp #overwatch #jamison fawkes #junkrat #mei ling zhou #fanfic

[antihero-writings]

Jack of All Trade, in This Masquerade (Ch2)

Fandom: Pandora Hearts 

Fic Summary: Jack's stream of consciousness describes how society is like a masquerade, while his dreams show his own hypocrisy

I'll put the link to ch1 in a reblog, as well as do a reblog-version of this chapter that includes both chapters!

Notes: 

Nope, I didn't forget about this fic, haha! Actually this fic has been sitting on my computer taunting me for WAY too long. This is probably the fic I open and try to work on, and then close again, unable to work on it, more than any other...

Lately I've been going through old fics that I left unfinished on my computer and trying to post them by whatever means necessary. For a number of them, those means are simply cutting it earlier than I planned to. I desperately wanted this fic to be included in the mix. First I only wanted this fic to be one chapter, then I wanted it to be two...now it's gonna be three or more XD I've just been super unsure about how to write the next part for a very long time, but I have had this part done for too long...and the dissonance between the two made it hard to go anywhere with it. I hope posting this will help me be able to figure out the next part, haha!

Another reason I was hoping to write the next part too is because I wanted to use the second chapter of this for the "Lock" prompt of Phmonth19... but this chapter doesn't really work for it. So just know that was my goal, haha!

I mentioned this in the other chapter, but the song "Masks" by Aviators is absolutely perfect for this fic, and I highly recommend listening to it during or after you read it, haha!

If you enjoyed this, I'd really really appreciate if you could leave me a comment to let me know!! They truly do motivate me to continue, and make my week!! If you want to read more of this fic, I can assure you I'll be faster at writing the next chapter, if I know people are actually going to read it!!

Chapter 2: The Color of Tragedy

The scene shifted, paint on a canvas smearing, and Glen became a black satin stain beneath layers of paint, the crimson and commanding presence disappearing as the world rearranged itself.

The many Jacks faded into the background too, until he couldn’t tell if they remained mirrors—(mirrors hidden within the many halls and rooms, built within the walls of his heart)—or if they were strangers and friends again; other people, not himself.

The pillars to the ballroom slowly dissolved, as if in water, changing into a courtyard green sprouting up all around.

The music had always been an unfamiliar tune he was expected to inherently know the moves to. And no matter how much he listened to it, it never became innate. Now, after all this time, it morphed into something familiar. But familiar did not mean un-painful or un-maddening.

The soft tune of a pocket watch tiptoed on his brain, each footfall a syringe in his thoughts, dripping cold beautiful insanity slowly into his soul, one drop at a time, infecting it until it blocked out every other melody, and his feet forgot the moves he had so ruthlessly sewn in.

When he turned, the source was behind him; a man standing in the courtyard. All black now; black hair, black cloak. No crimson. Like he never spilt her blood. Like she never existed in the first place. All black…except for the eyes. Gaze fluctuating between daggers…and some emotion he was struggling to keep from escaping; the leader, and the broken boy, crying on the ground. Soot with sparks buried within; glints of violet, glints of gold. Glitches of empathy in the perfect program. His eyes focused on the pocket watch—(a glint in the dark itself)—until they flicked to him, and Jack felt those eyes as a sword at his throat.

At the shift in his gaze, the scene itself turned over again, wind blowing by him, a single spark of violet glowing in the blurred tapestry, and ever, ever that melody, slowly corroding him.

Glen sat in the grass on a sunny day, those violet blades sheathed as he bathed in the afternoon sunlight.

The first respite from the dance in all these years. A rest in the measure.

Glen, sitting in the sunlight. Glen, playing the piano—always that single, haunting melody, laced with a name, filling up Jack’s mind with the harmony until he was drowning in its sound, and could think no other word.

That melody, that word, and her voice—(A memory of her voice, soon given to him by a bloodstained black rabbit)—pulling him through the blurred universe to a balcony, drawn there like he was ink on a canvas, subject to the whims of the artist.

Brown hair, like hers.

Violet eyes, like his.

White dress.

Black dress.

Her existence was not tied down. As if it was a part of the smear itself, and not the concrete picture beneath it. She was a part of all these mistakes the artist tried to smudge out.

Jack pulled a white rose from his pocket.

He offered her a red rose.

“Would you care to dance, Alice?”

******

A little girl held the keys to those chains—held them, held by them all the same; that is to say her world would fall into the dark too, if the bounds were to break. A little girl chose the music, the steps. A little girl ruled the world.

Is that why they call it insanity?

Her daughter.

Gods may be fixed in the sky, watching all our misdeeds, and we believe in them, not they us, but children can be made to believe anything. Such as: men who come down the chimney do so to give them presents, that putting their teeth beneath pillows is anything more than gross. One can make them believe the world isn’t made of malice. You can make them believe you haven’t sewn your mask—and the things you stole to get those jewels, things like lives—into the skin. You can make them think you’re a hero coming to save them, make them more than a blur, a mistake, a prisoner of their own creation, but a part of something real and concrete, when you’re just using them, like everyone else will. Naiveté is powerful and dangerous in that way.

I heard her voice one day. Lacie’s. Not just in my memories. This was real, one piece of her reaching out to me from the black.

She had this toy rabbit. A toy, yes, but to a god, a toy can be a thinking, living, breathing, thing, with nothing more than a thought to animate it. Dolls and figures can be princesses and princes, and their knights and soldiers. Children dream. And lonely children dream the most. And a lonely god is a dangerous thing indeed. Especially a child god, surrounded by lifeless toys. Dangerous, because of the stories they tell themselves in the silence can become real indeed.

It was this toy that brought her voice to me, like a gift, physical thing. Packaged up a memory and sent it off to me.

So it was back to the dance. But this time it was different. Because even if there were other melodies out there somewhere, other moves to know, my ears only heard one twinkling pocket watch, my feet would only obey one conductor.

And this melody was not bound by little girls, and lonely gods, and broken, blood struck leaders. This one I could make up my own moves to, intertwine them with the motions and melodies of the rest of the world, so no one would know I was dancing to my own song.

This rabbit, the one who brought her voice to me had a name. Oz—(like Oswald…but not like him at all)—was to be my chain. A chain different from the rest. A chain that was not friendship, or love, or hate, or malice. A chain that was not sanity or insanity. A chain that was not keeping the world upright. A chain to break all other chains. Bringing her to me. Tying me to her. My chain, to destroy all the chains keeping me from hearing her voice again, and her from the world she loved.

A god who creates something that can destroy their world is dangerous indeed.

Little girls and their dolls, toy rabbits and puppet kings, a tear or two, and some spilled blood couldn’t stop me now.

******

The world blurred in black and white, gold and red, violet and green.

Which color was real?

Was it the black and white; just the game of chess?

Was it the endless violet in the king’s eyes?

The gold of shimmering lights, and the eyes of scared little boys just trying to help?

Was it the green, the vibrant, envious green of his clothes, his eyes?

Or was it all the red they spilled?

And there was. So much red. One could have painted with it. He did. The floors. The walls. The roses he once promised she’d see. The world.

But even within those colors… nothing was quite solid, quite sure.

Because the gold didn’t shimmer anymore. Those golden eyes were full of fear, determination. They didn’t gleam with false riches, but with real poverty; a poverty that comes not from losing your money, but losing your friends, or your sanity.

Because that green wasn’t the vibrant bloom of a garden. It was not envy or eternity or ephemerality and it—he—too was dyed with red.

Because when Oswald truly put a sword to Jack’s throat his eyes held no sting. Those violet blades held nothing more than infinite sorrow. He called him his friend. But he saw him at the end of a sword, at the end of themselves, at the end of the world.

Or at least, that was Jack’s goal.

But the king made sure the only world that ended was their own, cutting off the hand for the sake of the rest of the body. Gouging out the eye for the sake of the face.

And there was another Jack trapped within the reflection on the sword—(mask or real?)—looking like a broken thing determined to hold itself together. And when something gets to that point, is broken enough…it doesn’t care. About much of anything. Not itself. Not the friend on the other end. Just whatever it is holding itself together.

The king’s head is lying on the board.

“Glen?”

Jack is calling his name, cradling his red-stained head in his hands, tears smearing the green of his eyes.

How did he die? Who killed him? How can he make them pay?

But his hands are covered in blood.

What’s the mask? The blood? Or the tears?

And now everything, once too blurred, once just a smear on a canvas, a move in the midst of a dance, is too real, too concrete, too irreversible.

Checkmate. But he doesn’t feel like he’s won the game.

And as he cries, as he screams and demands why, the masks peer out of the corners of the board, stare his way, snickering at him from the hidden passageways deep inside him.

The closer he got to his goal, the more those chains fell apart, finally creating his own moves to the dance…the less he he noticed something wrapping around his arms, his legs.

He rushed to the tower where the god-girl will grant his wishes at last—the bottle for the genie—where he will be free.

And she would have granted him all, if only he would have freed her from her bottle.

She wouldn’t have hesitated to destroy the world for him.

Were it not for her other half, the rabbit’s tears, and a pair of scissors.

At last the machine remembers the wrench; the one that tried to change the patterns, the melody, long ago, all for a single distortion in the system that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. The one whom its gears once kicked to the bottom, the one who clawed his way back up. And it knows kicking him back down there again won’t be enough.

Fine. If he wanted to change the system, the dance, the melody, then the system would exclude him, treat him as an error. The dance will leave him with everything he wanted, everything he was, everything he created.

He opens his eyes.

There is no ballroom. No dance. No dancers. …Maybe there never was.

A cell. Or at least, he thinks it is, but he doesn’t see any walls or floors, just navy darkness, and a crack in the dimension above, like a slit in the prison door, letting in the tiniest bit of light.

He takes a step.

There’s a sloshing noise.

So there’s water in the bottom of this cell. Is the prison’s being flooded? He ought to tell the guards.

One more step.

Something cuts the air. A terrible sound; like somebody took a beautiful thing and melted it down, and melded it into something it was never meant to be.

Laughter. Twisted, reckless, mirthless, soulless laughter. As if he stepped on a malfunctioning Jack-in-the-box, with no need for the song.

There’s no music anymore. And the the absence of it threatens to suffocate him.

Another step, another laugh, different, but no less jagged.

He doesn’t want to look down. Doesn’t want to see. To face it. He knows. He knows what he’ll find there.

But he does it anyways.

Beside his foot is a mask. A fine porcelain one, like from a theater, that would cover the whole face. The slit-eyes are curved down, the mouth curved up, to signify happiness.

It’s the ugliest thing he’s ever seen.

But he knows, if he were to put it on, it would fit his handsome face perfectly.

He puts a hand over his mouth to barricade the sick, to cloister his silver tongue, and takes a step back.

But when he does, another warped sound wrenches open the air. This time it’s crying.

He spins around. His heel is on another mask.

But, as he looks upon it, his eyes are pulled upward as if on strings. There is something far worse behind him. It’s like a snowy mountain.

Masks, endless, empty, lifeless masks. This place is surely built upon them.

All the masks he ever wore.

Does he even have a face anymore?

#jack vessalius #oswald baskerville #pandora hearts #glen baskerville #lacie baskerville #pandora hearts fandom #Pandora Hearts fanfiction #pandora hearts fanfic #pandora hearts fic #tragedy trio #pandora hearts manga #the tragedy of sablier #tragedy of sablier #ph fandom #ph fanfic #ph fanfiction #ph fic #jack vessalius fanfiction #jack vessalius fic #jack vessalius fanfic #angst #tragedy #character study #mild horror #dark

[transxfiles]

A Roll Of The Dice by two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat | @homeworkforpigeons

Summary: Star Trek is an incredibly popular tabletop roleplaying game. Mostly gen with some Spirk at the end.

Word Count: 1822

Find this fic on AO3

Gliding through the stars would never get boring, he decided. Even at Warp Speed 9, with all the bright lights zipping past him so quickly they were nothing more than blurry spots in the sky, it was a simultaneously haunting and stunning sight. The Captain sighed, leaning back in his chair-

“Oh, do get on with it Jim,” muttered Hikaru from across the table, rolling dice between his fingers. “We don’t have all day.”

“But the monologues are important. For… character development.”

Nyota rolled her eyes. “Not when you spend an hour on them every turn. Besides, we already let you have the Captain’s Log thing. Now come on. I want to fight some hostile aliens.”

“Aren’t you supposed to stay on ship with Scotty in case things go wrong, Communications Officer?”

“Goddamit you two,” Bones said, fist slamming the table, sending papers fluttering and figurines toppling onto the board.  “We’ll never get anything done with the two of you fighting.”

“Come on Jim,” said Rand, shoving some dice into his hand. “Your. Turn.”

He looked at Spock, who just did that thing where he would raise only the one eyebrow, and sighed in defeat.

“Fine.”

He dropped the dice, watching them roll until they made their way a surprising distance from him, finally stopping by Scotty.

No one really knew how they’d all gotten together. Jim had to admit, they were an odd group.

In the end, they were all just sort of bored, and lonely, and they needed something to do after school. Originally, it had just been Jim and Bones. They took turns DMing, setting up short campaigns for the others to play, but it got incredibly boring very quickly. They got tired of it. They needed a permanent DM - so they’d found Spock, who, despite his attempt to put on mask of no emotion, seemed to take both happiness and pride in being Dungeon Master. And after that, everyone else had sort of fallen into place. Because once they had Spock, they at least a consistent location to play - his basement. Which, though still not ideal, was better than bouncing between Jim’s too-cramped (shared with his brother) bedroom and Bones’s tiny garden shed. So while Spock’s basement was a bit musty, it was honestly ideal, really, because though it was dark and sometimes damp, they made it their own. They had a little cooler with snacks and drinks it, and they’d put down a rug, and they had a little table, and every time a new person joined them they all went down to the local flea market as a group and helped pick out a chair for them, and ever so slowly the basement became theirs.

After Spock joined, Nyota was close behind him. She was new to their school that year, and she wanted friends, so she sought them out. She knew Spock through T’Pring, of course, and though Spock’s relationship with T’Pring was more than a bit strained, still, Nyota didn’t seem to mind. She wanted “Something amusing to do outside of school,” she’d said, something to “fill the time” and “make an afternoon more enjoyable.” A statement to which Jim had (nearly) replied with a few lewd, though somewhat humorous comments - though he did instead opt to stay quiet.  Somewhat due to Bones kicking him not-so-discreetly in the shin, telling him that “She won’t stay if you don’t play nice.”

And with Uhura came Rand, a new friend of hers, and with Rand came Chapel, a blonde girl Jim recognized from one of his science classes (he was taking a lot of those; it was one of the few things in school he actually enjoyed taking part in, and since he was on one of those advanced tracks, he was taking as many as possible) and it also drew a young Scottish kid, who was quickly nicknamed Scotty (because if you’re that goddam Scottish, James Tiberius Kirk is sure as hell going to give you some sort of nickname) and Scotty drew a kid named Hikaru, and Hikaru drew in the Russian exchange student, Pavel, and in some way or another, they managed to get together enough people to create a long-term campaign.

They named their ship the Enterprise, and decided on their mission: To explore strange new worlds. To seek out new life, and new civilizations. To boldly go where no one has gone before.

(That last bit used to be no man, but Nyota, Rand, and Chapel had all insisted that was at least a little bit sexist, and so they decided to change it to no one.)

The first time they’d all played a campaign on their own had resulted in some of the most fun Jim had in months. Spock DMed (of course) and they got to go down to a planet for shore leave and Scotty got with some prostitute (or planned to, at least) and then she was murdered and they all needed to work together to solve the mystery, and it turned out that the entity that had murdered the woman was actually Jack The Ripper (a reveal that had prompted many of them to ask Spock what exactly he was on when he wrote this) who was an immortal alien who basically ate fear.

“The crew of the Starship Enterprise is once more face to face with the hostile Klingons,” Spock said, hiding behind his notepad.

Jim grinned. “I walk past the Science Officer, our hands brushing as-”

“Oh shut up,” said Nyota, obviously suppressing a giggle. “You’ve tried to seduce him, what? Thirty times now?” She looked to Chekov. “How close am I?”

“Well, it’s a bit higher than the thirties,” he said. The bastard was reaching into his backpack for a notebook, no doubt to add another tally to some list he’d made for keeping score.

“I’m getting closer every time!” Jim said.

Spock raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Roll for charisma,” he sighed.

He did, tossing the die across the table. And, as was the usual, he rolled a two.

“Oh come on,” Jim groaned. “Can I try again?”

“Jim, we have discussed this before. You cannot spend the entire game attempting to seduce your Science Officer.”

“Now that we have gotten that over with,” Spock said, “I feel as though I must inform you that, due to a yet unknown technical malfunction, you now find yourself stranded in uncharted space, and, as I previously stated, surrounded by Klingon warbirds.”

After that, the game resumed as usual.

There was, of course, a miraculous victory from the crew of the Enterprise (with only a few casualties, mostly in the NPC department) and somehow Jim’s player character had ended up shirtless again, but they defeated the Klingons and saved the day. And then, soon enough, it was seven in the evening.

Time to leave.

Jim made his way over to the sofa, picking up his backpack where he’d dropped it earlier that evening. He slipped it over his shoulders before turning to his friends.

“Psst,” Jim said, careful to be quiet as he beckoned Nyota and Bones over to him. “Guys.”

Bones looked confused at first, but after a glance at Jim’s face, he knew exactly what was going on. “Oh no. No, nope, no way, not gonna happen.”

“Jim,” Nyota said, trying a different approach, “come on. Just wait a little longer if you’re nervous. I told you I could coach you if you wanted, and that offer still stands.”

“I don’t know… I just. Ugh. I have this gut feeling that I have to do it now.”

“Then just do it!” Bones said, voice getting gruffer with each passing moment. “You don’t need us with you to ask him out.”

“Well, it would be helpful?”

“Helpful,” Nyota deadpanned.

“Like… cheerleaders?”

"Cheerleaders?" Bones made a face.

“You’ve never actually asked someone out before have you.”

“Sure I have!”

Nyota and Bones gave each other a look.

“Please,” he hissed, voice still held at a whisper. No one could really explain why, but Spock had excellent hearing. He was just kind of like that. And Jim wasn’t willing to let him overhear this conversation. “You don't have to be right next to me, just nearby? In case something goes wrong. Or I catch on fire. Or Spock catches on fire…”

“I’ve got a date with T’Pring,” said Nyota. “I can’t help you with your love life right now, Jim.”

“Bones looked up. “Sorry Jimmy Boy. I’m busy too.”

“What? No excuse Bones? At least Nyota had something prepared.”

“Oh shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“You-”

“-are both acting like toddlers,” Nyota finished. “Come on Jim, get it together. Ask him out.”

“On what? A date? Does Spock even do dating?”

“You’ll never know until you get your shit together.”

With that, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and left, saying goodbye to them all on her way up the stairs.

Jim groaned.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Bones muttered.

“Bones…”

“Come on Jim, it’s not that hard. You just go over to him, tell him you like him. Ask him if he wants to go out with you.”

“And what do I do if he says no?”

“Say that it’s okay, you understand. Smile. Hold it together until you get somewhere you can cry safely.”

“Bones.”

“What? It’s solid advice.”

“Okay.” Jim took a deep breath. “What if he says yes?”

“You tell him that you’re really happy, and you like him a lot. I’d say give him a hug or something, but this is Spock we’re talking about, so avoid physical contact for now. And whatever you do, don’t say ‘cool’.”

“Don’t say cool?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t do it.”  

“Mm-hm. That’s how you charmed Miriam?”

“Oh shut up.”

And then, as though following in Nyota’s footsteps (probably purposefully, the bastard), Bones grabbed his backpack and ran up the stairs. Leaving Jim alone with Spock in the basement.

“Fuck,” Jim muttered.

“I fail to see a reason for such language,” a cool voice said from behind him.

Jim almost jumped out of his skin.

He spun around, face-to-face with the boy himself.

"Hi Spock!" Said Jim, voice jumping an octave from nerves.

Cue signature eyebrow raise. "Jim."

Jim took a deep breath. "I was wondering..." he felt his hands drop to his pockets as he tried to get the words out. "Well, you see... I like you-"

"I should hope so. We spend a fair amount of time together, in school and outside of it."

"Spock-"

"I am messing with you, Jim."

Jim looked up.

Spock was smiling.

Jim looked up the stairs, eyes tracing the paths Nyota and Bones had taken, then looked back at the ground at his feet, then looked back at Spock. "Did you overhear-?"

"Your entire conversation?" Spock shrugged. "Perhaps."

"Do you want to-?"

"Yes."

"Oh... wow, I...."

"Jim?"

"Spock?"

"Do not say 'cool'."

#just realized i never posted any of my actual star trek bingo fics here other than on the masterpost so. get ready for some trek fic spam. #also gonna post some lumberjanes here too i think #anyway. Tag Time #my post #my fanfiction #fanfiction #star trek fanfiction #stos fanfiction #spirk #the premise #kirk #spock #bones #uhura #sulu #chekov #rand (mentioned) #chapel (mentioned) #t'pring (mentioned) #also uhura is lesbian in this one bc uhura is lesbian canon no i do not take constructive criticism #a roll of the dice #a roll of the dice by two_drama_nerds_in_a_boat #twodramanerdsinaboat

[badlypostedeverything]

Playing Dress Up

read part one here

tw: Vomit, Panic attack, Knife

July 10th 2016

“Level two, you’re here,” Jack announces, letting the doors slide open.

The hero hasn’t spoken since his request for a pair of glasses back in the control room hallway, gripping the rail with white knuckles. Angus doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything at all. Expertly avoiding his eyes, a feat made easy by the fact Jackieboy’s are fixed on the floor, he stays silent all the way out into the hallway, where it becomes too awkward.

"This is level two, rooms and stuff. I’d guess you can take one of the empty ones.”

“Shut up,” Jackieboy whispers, still staring at the floor, fists balled. Angus frowns.

“What, did I do something wrong?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know? I just need you to leave me alone,” he spits through clenched teeth. Angus surveys him, coming to the realisation that he resembles a scared animal.

“Hey, are you okay, I know you’re probably pretty scared right now but-”

“Please, just leave me alone. Let me out of here,” Jackieboy takes off down one of the hallways, throwing himself through a door and letting out a sob. Against his immediate instinct to follow him, Angus decides to leave him alone for now. He doesn’t have to imagine how crazy it is to wake up on a spacecraft, but he never went through being told you were a brother, being told your life wasn’t real and that some guy had created you, only to throw you away. Angus had had time by himself to work it out, asking Jack where he needed clarification. Jackieboyman had been woken up to the full truth. It’s a lot to take in, especially for a kid.

Angus stands in the hallway for a while, unsure what to do. Finally, he hears a series of retching noises coming from the room and decides he’s waited long enough.

“Hey,” he peers around the doorframe. Jackieboy is sitting curled up in the corner of the bare room, clutching at his torn off mask and taking shallow, shaky breaths in between sobs. He looks up when Angus comes in, wiping his nose with the clean part of his sleeve. “Do you need to talk about it?”

“Leave me alone,” Jackie rubs his throat, shaking.

“Listen, I know this is probably pretty weird for you-”

“Go away.”

“But I’m right here and we’re going to get through this together,” he squats down, avoiding the sick and reaching out a hand to rub Jackie’s shoulder.

“Get out!” Jackie throws his mask at him, turning his face away. “I just want to wake up.”

“Wake up?” Angus stands back, not knowing whether to keep trying to comfort him or not.

“This has got to be a dream, right? I’ll wake up and we’ll never have even met, and, and I won’t be in a fucking spaceship,” he spits, pulling his legs closer to himself.

“So you’re pretty stressed about being up here, huh?” Angus, against his better judgement, sits down beside his brother, placing an arm carefully around him. He doesn’t resist. “Maybe we can pretend you aren’t then. What if we just said this is a big sci-fi replica and we can leave anytime we want.”

“We. Can’t.”

“I know that. You know that, but maybe we can unknow that?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He either laughs or coughs, which is still an improvement on hyperventilating.

“I mean what if you and me went out there and pretended we were just in a normal place. We can get you cleaned up and find some glasses if you want.” Jackie considers for a minute.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” he reminds Angus, attempting to stand. “I hate you and this place, and the sooner I can’t see either, the better.”

“Fine, and I’m just helping you out so I don’t have to smell puke every time I get out of the elevator,” Angus keeps his hand firmly around Jackie as they move slowly to the door. Jackie’s legs are still getting used to being able to move in the real world, a feeling Angus can still remember. He guides him down the hallway and into the bathroom, pressing a button in the side of the wall to activate an unlocking mechanism for the airing cupboard full of towels and flannels.

“Thanks,” Jackie huffs reluctantly.

“I’ll stick around outside. Yell when you’re ready,” he walks out into the hallway, hoping for a pleasant response. Behind him, he hears the door slam and the water start to splatter onto the shower floor. Sighing, he turns down a different hallway and into the chill room.

“Jack, can you redo room seven as a clothing storage?” Angus asks, pacing the length of the area. The first time, he’d asked for room seven to be turned into a hunting equipment bay but he hasn’t been back in since sometime last year. Looking at the rows of gear only makes him wish for a real place to use them.

“Transformation pending, captain,” Jack informs him. “Do you want anything kept from the old room? There are plenty of things which suit your interests.”

“But you know what doesn’t? This spaceship,” Angus reminds him. “Wipe it all out and give us a good selection of clothes.”

“Oh, so you’ve finally realised that a t-shirt over a polo shirt looks shitty. Good, I’ll prepare you some valid selections.”

“Shut up,” Angus protests. “I bet if you had a body you’d dress worse.”

“On second thoughts, I think I’ll keep the hunting knife in this room for you, captain. For the fond memories of the first time I talked to you, and you threatened to skin me with it.”

“Bastard,” he laughs under his breath. “Let me know when you’re finished.”

“Roger that, cap.” Jack’s vocal program goes offline as he begins to evaporate and regenerate the contents of the room down the hall. With that sorted, Angus walks to the kettle, switching it on. He pulls a loaf of plastic wrapped bread out of the cupboard and butters a few slices, setting them down on the workbench for Jackie before turning back around to wait for him in the hallway, dreading the inevitable confrontation once he emerges from the shower.

“Hey,” Angus greets him when he finally appears. “Feeling any better?”

“I guess,” Jackie holds both of his towels close to himself, one around his waist and one around his shoulders. Angus thinks he sees a patch of purple spreading from his upper arm, but he can’t be sure. Besides, now isn’t exactly a time to pry.

“So you’ll follow me down here?”

“I guess,” Jackie repeats.

“I think you’re gonna like this one, captain,” Jack tells them. Jackie recoils, clinging to Angus without realising.

“Who was that? Are there other people here?”

“Nah, just you and me. That’s Jack, he’s the sentient computer.”

“Hello, Jackieboyman,” Jack offers.

“Uh, hi?”

“Come on, this way,” Angus gestures for him to follow. Jackie lets go of him but follows along anyway, face setting back into it’s scowl.

“Opening room seven,” the door unlocks. Angus pushes it open and stands back, letting Jackie be the first one to view it’s new contents.

“So, what do you think?” He grins, proud to be showing off the ship, even if it is to someone who seems to hate him.

“Wow. Just wow,” Jackie replies, awestruck. Angus takes a look himself. The room is split into three levels of height, all leading up to a big mirror in the center, as well as a few bean bags lying around. “So I can take any of this stuff?”

“Anything you want to wear,” Angus assures him. Despite the offer, Jackie stays pressed against the wall, looking unsure of himself. “Come on, see look!” Angus takes a leap up onto the second level, pulling a yellow floral dress off of the rack and holding it up against himself. “What do you think of this? Does it bring out my eyes?” He can tell that Jackie is trying not to laugh.

“Mmm,” he tries to keep up his annoyed attitude.

“Oh, I know what would go with it, hold on,” he dives into the rack, scrambling around long enough to find what he is looking for. He emerges in a feather boa and a large straw hat, looking ridiculous against his unshaved face and outdoorsy clothing. Jackie cracks up. “No? Not a good look?”

“No, not really, and that’s coming from someone who can’t see.” Angus pretends to frown.

“Alright, now will you come and choose something?”

“I don’t really remember what I like,” Jackie admits.

“Well, what do you like doing? Dance? Rollerskating? Why don’t we find you something you can move around in. What kinda colours do you like?”

“Red,” he says quietly, allowing himself to be guided up to the third level. “And dark blue.” “Any of this catch your eye?” Angus asks, gesturing around the jeans and bomber jackets, all of the stuff he’d imagine a teenager to wear.

“Can I get something softer?”

“Oh, sure! Like any of these?” He brings him over to a rail of sweatpants, hoodies, and sweaters. In the end, he picks out some grey track pants, a pair of basketball shorts, plain blue t-shirts, a bright red hoodie, and a maroon sweater. Angus promises he can take another look once he’s figured himself out a little more.

“What next?” Jackie asks, finally comfortable in Angus’ presence and changed into his new clothes, plus a springy pair of blue sneakers.

“Well, there’s one more thing for you,” Angus shows him over to a blank panel of wall. “Now I want you to repeat after me. ‘Jack, open glasses case for Jackieboyman.’”

“Could you call me Jackie? I feel kinda weird going by a superhero name.”

“Alright, sure. Now ask him.”

“Jack, open glasses case for Jackie,” he addresses the ceiling awkwardly.

“Coming right up,” Jack replies, letting a panel of the wall slide open. Inside are two lenses in a glass box, as well as several different styles of frames. Jackie immediately picks out a perfectly round rose gold pair, slotting the lenses in and pushing them up his nose.

“How do I look?”

“Better than me in a dress, I’d say.”

“No, seriously. Do I look like you? Like him?” He pushes his still damp hair into the way their creator wears it. Angus ruffles it back into it’s lime green mess.

“You look better. Like my brother.”

“So we’re good?”

“We’re good. Come on, I’ll make us a sandwich before we find you a room,” Angus lets Jackie leave first, following close behind. He still isn’t sure what they’re supposed to be as a team, but at least he’s glad that whatever it is, it isn’t enemies. Maybe having a brother will turn out okay.

#spacestation au #log set 1: failings of brotherhood #tw knife #tw vomit #tw panic attack

[ambistep]

Mission: Impossible

Retribution Spoilers. Part 5 of 5. Each part is a vignette for a member of the crew. This one is for Pelayo (mostly). Gang members are mostly my headcanon built off the bit parts they get in Retribution.

~

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Edgar Ramirez, United States Air Force.” He clears his throat, and puts on his best Mid-Western accent. “Lieutenant Colonel Edgar Ramirez, United States Air Force.”

Over on the couch, ZaZa snickers. Ward shoots a thumbs up. Nehal has headphones in, studying intensely - doesn’t react at all. Pelayo shakes his head and looks over to Clarity - hunched over a laptop, clicking through files. She’s distracted, still giving instructions, “Second one was getting there. Mix it up. Use different words, don’t just worry about the sound. You have to like, create this person in your mind. You’ve met people like him, just be like them.”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah, you do this shit a lot?”

She doesn’t look up, “I’m doing it right now.” Of course she is. The boss was like that.

“Look. You’re the boss, I like your plans. Most of the time.” Ward looks a little skeptical of Pelayo, “Okay, some of the time, I like your plans. But they’re never going to believe that I’m…” He looks down at the folder in front of him, reading aloud, “...Lieutenant Colonel Edgar Ramirez.”

She looks up from the laptop and spins around on the swivel chair to face him, “Why not, none of them will know Ramirez. You don’t have to be him, exactly - you just have to be what they think a Lieutenant Colonel Edgar Ramirez would maybe be like.”

“Never done shit like this, I’m a gun for hire, not an actor.” He slaps down the folder.

She smirks, “What you are, Hector Pelayo, is a Hispanic male somewhere between the ages of thirty and sixty, between 5’8” and 6’4” in height, dark hair, average build, clean shaven, with visible cybernetic modifications, and no visible tattoos - not with a little makeup anyway. In other words, you’re...” The boss gestures, coaxing it out of him.

He sits up straight, trying to get a little more control, “Lieutenant Colonel Edgar Ramirez, US Air Force. I gotta shave for this shit too? Not getting paid enough.”

“My man, that’s what I’m always saying.” ZaZa chuckles to himself, flipping channels on the television.

“Ay, fuck you, you don’t even have to go inside.” Pelayo curses, “I want half of his share too.”

“The money’ll be enough,” Clarity pushes back. “I’ve never been cheap with you, have I? Have I?” It isn’t about the money at this point, though. This job is different. They all know.

His leg bounces in his seat, shaking his head, “S’good.”

“I take him at the hotel. We’ll get the biometrics, and the code then. My specialist gets you the contact lenses and fingerprint gloves at noon. That’s your go time. You hit the base and from there, you’re…”

Pelayo, nodding along, sighs, “Edgar Ramirez. I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.”

Clarity sits on the edge of the table, scooping up the folder thoughtfully, “ We’re actually doing this.”

“I must be insane, that’s the only answer. Or maybe you fucked with my head.” Pelayo puts his head in his hands. He doesn’t see the frown creep across Clarity’s face. “Ward, are we insane?”

They simply nod, watching TV with ZaZa now, “Absolutely.”

ZaZa follows up, “Insanely well-paid, and with bragging rights.”

“There are no bragging rights, pendejo, you can’t brag about seizing a United States Air Force base.” He stands up and begins to pace, “Forget the Guardians, forget the Rangers - Hollow Ground’ll turn you in just to avoid having that kind of heat in her city. That sort of thing gets you put on a list with the DoD, fuck, with the Special Directive.”

ZaZa’s confidence wanes a little, “..what's a Special Directive?” Ward shifts their weight, a little less amused.

Clarity’s trying not to smile now. That’s the whole point after all. Cookie for Pelayo. “Let me worry about the Special Directive. It’s my heat, and that’s why you get the masks. It’s just Clarity and her henchmen.” It’s all a show, after all, this is a performance piece. Like the gala, just… scaled up. Massively scaled up. “Now relax. Who are you?”

Pelayo goes for it again, “Edgar Ramirez, lieutenant colonel. Air Force.”

~

Ward leans and straightens the tie. They raise up their good hand, brushing over Pelayo’s freshly smooth shaven cheek, mumbling low, “Doesn’t look half bad.” Hector leans into their touch, searching for any sort of reassurance. Ward reaches over and hands him the jacket, helping finish putting the uniform together. “Well?”

“Little tight.”

“You’re just stiff.” Ward’s prosthetic hand clicks on the desk, looking over the ‘Lieutenant Colonel.’ “Boss did a good job on the makeup - can hardly tell what an ugly fucker you were.”

Pelayo blinks, then squints, trying to get used to the contact lenses, and the face in the mirror, “Ay, thought you liked my scars.”

“I do,” Ward admits.

Hector frowns, trying on the glasses Clarity had offered him. Taking them on, taking them off. Sometimes props help, she said. “Ward, what are we doing?” The glasses don’t help.

“It’s part of the plan. You want out?” It’s hard to read Ward’s expression, even after all these years. “Not like you.”

“Dunno, this whole mission is fucked. Jacking trucks, heists, playing tag with cops, we do that.” He starts to reach up to rub his stubble - but it’s been shaved, and he’s afraid to touch his face with this makeup. “Esta es la Mission: Impossible mierda. Terrorista mierda. Clarity’s gonna get us fuckin’ killed.”

“Don’t think so.” Ward looks out the hotel window, watching the cars below, reflecting. “Maybe herself. Not us.”

“Yeah?” Hector sits on the edge of the bed, watching Ward watching cars.

“Yeah. She thinks she’s a hero, like a Ranger or something. You ever work for anyone like that?”

“...no.” Ward makes a little bit of sense.

“Me either.” They smirk. “Besides, she’s got a plan, right?”

“Yeah. Right.” Hector shakes his head. He stands up and checks his tie again, straightening the bars on his breast. “We’re on the clock now. You should get your suit on.” Hard not to be a little jealous.

Ward puts a hand on Hector’s shoulder and locks eyes. Looking through the contacts is strange for the both of them. They lean in for their kiss and one last reassurance, “Good luck, you ugly fucker.”

His nerves unwind, Pelayo finally, at last, relaxing just a little, “Yeah. Don’t get shot this time, imbécil.”

Ward simply grunts and grins wide.

[ Clarity and the gang WILL return in: MISSILE COMMAND ]

#fhr #fallen hero: rebirth #gangbabies #pelayo #ward #mina oh #scribbly

[benxsilvia]

The Fight || 2003 || Zoe & Lenny

Silence hung over the table like a heavy fog, making the space feel smaller than it was, crushing and claustrophobic. The table was set with lamb stew, injera and a few dishes of berbere spiced vegetables, because goddammit he was trying here…but as Lenny glanced over at Zoe, he saw her pushing the food around her plate with a sullen look on her face. Guess I can cross Ethiopian food off the list of bribery tactics. It had been a month already, and nothing he did seemed to make a difference to Zoe’s defiant attitude. He hadn’t said anything when she moved into the den and made a mess of it, or when she ignored him even though he could be talking straight to her face. Lisa had given him advice and he was trying to do what she said but it really didn’t seem to matter. Zoe was not making the transition easy.

Nothing about the situation was easy in the slightest, in all honesty. Figuring out how to be a parent, adjusting schedules so accommodate for Zoe’s school, figuring out how to live with each other…and of course, ignoring the recurring flashes of Zoe seeming like Lisa: looking like her, smelling like her, moving like her. It was distracting and it made Lenny feel even worse each time it happened. She was fifteen, and Lisa had only been sixteen when they met and started their crazy relationship, getting married less than a year later, and getting pregnant almost right away. The resemblance was uncanny and enough for Lenny to experience a tug of attraction and lust deep in his stomach now and again. That might be the worst part of it all. Anytime a thought like that even crossed his mind, it was quickly followed by a deep sense of shame. She’s fifteen. She’s your daughter. She is not Lisa.

Lenny chewed his food slowly, not taking his eyes off Zoe, who was still unenthusiastically turning the meal he had prepared into abstract art on her plate. Her resemblance to Lisa disappeared in moments like this, when he was frustrated and angry with her. His usually calm demeanour was thrown into chaos because he just didn’t know what to do to crack her shell. She didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in getting to know him, patently refusing to open up, to talk, sometimes to even make eye contact. He was admittedly discouraged and found himself wondering how they were going to make it through the next five months if this kept happening. He was fairly sure Zoe was texting Lisa nightly to complain about him - something he couldn’t imagine she appreciated while on location. Their lines of communication had closed again ever since she stopped responding the night she left, but Lenny was confident he’d be getting an earful once she came back from China.

He took another sip of beer and cleared his throat, fiddling with his fork nervously. Talking to Zoe about her behaviour was probably the worst possible subject to try and broach peacefully, but he could practically smell the marijuana wafting off her from four feet away, and his own stash was noticeably lighter when he had dipped into it a few hours ago to take the edge of his anxiety. Lenny believed in fate and karma, but not coincidence. He braced himself for what he was sure would be an extremely negative reaction.

“Zo, look...whatever you and your mom used to get up to, it ain't gonna fly with me. I don't want you smoking pot in this house. You’re too young, okay? And don't think I don't know where you got it from.” His eyes met hers and he tried to keep his voice steady, already seeing her starting to get riled up in retaliation. “Don't play with me, we both know you took it from my room. You shouldn’t even be in there, and you definitely shouldn't be taking stuff that doesn’t belong to you. C’mon. You know better than that. We raised you better than that.”

A month had passed since she arrived at this hell-hole, and Zoe was not looking forward to this joint dinner.

Lenny was trying. He let her have the den and hadn’t said anything to her about how messy she kept it. He didn’t force her to have dinner with him every night like they were some cute little family and gave her as much space as she wanted - so much so, that sometimes she wasn’t even sure if he was around. And Zoe wasn’t sure whether she should appreciate it - be happy that he wasn’t pretending to be this ‘big man parent’ and interfering in her life, or be angrier about it - because he didn’t seem to care. And that made her angry.

So she protested as loudly as she could: made the den so much of a disaster that even she felt it was getting out of hand, ignored him to his face as he tried to make conversation with her, and generally was very, very unpleasant to be around.

Maybe a small part of her, the part of her that was the most grown up, knew she was being petty and ridiculous with these temper tantrums. But whenever these thoughts occurred to her the rest of her brain chose to instead double down on the petty with renewed anger, because who the fuck cared?

The first time Zoe smelled weed in the apartment was about two weeks in, and wow, what a welcoming smell. She knew he probably smoked - I mean, look at the man - but you never knew with celebrities. It could have been a facade, for the fans, or for his image.

Zoe had been making ends meet with some shitty strain that an acquaintance at school had slipped into her locker, but this smell? She couldn’t resist - and the next time she was sure Lenny had locked himself into the studio, she snuck into his room.

The very first score was barely enough to fill her tiny tiny bowl: barely one hit, but wow. Whatever he was using, hit different. Even better than the stuff she had been sneaking out of Lisa’s stash the past year.

The second score was a tiny bit bigger, truly not enough that Lenny would know unless he was militant about his stash. Then the third score, a bit bigger than that. The longer time went by without him acknowledging it, the more she took, because… A little bit of her wanted to see how far she could go. She was pushing all the buttons, all at once. Why not? He didn’t seem to care.

Hence the entire joint she smoked before coming down for dinner. There was no way she didn’t smell, but who cared? Not Lenny.

He made Ethiopian food. He must’ve talked to Lisa. That made her even madder. How dare they talk about her behind her back, like she was their actual child? Like they actually gave a fuck about her, like he didn’t ignore her existence for years and she didn’t abandon her the first chance she got.

Zoe knew it wasn’t easy to cook Ethiopian food. And that he had put in a lot of work into this dinner. How fucking dare he.

And so, although her stomach growled and she was so high and she wanted to eat it so badly, she decided that no, she wouldn’t eat it. Fuck him. Fuck everything. So instead she began pushing the food around on her plate, intently creating swirls and patterns to try and pass the time until she could excuse herself into her room again.

She was so zoned out that she almost missed the words coming out of Lenny’s mouth.

“I- What-..?” So shocked that he actually said something, it took Zoe a full three seconds before she could come up with any sort of defense. Before she could launch into her excuses, however, he was speaking again.

A flash of anger tore through Zoe as he continued to speak, masking the fear and guilt that rumbled deep in her belly. But the words that did her in was ‘we raised you better than that’.

“What?!” A harsh laugh burst from her mouth. “What the fuck are you talking about, ‘we raised you’? You weren’t there! You and Lisa aren’t even a ‘we’!” She was standing over the table now, but she didn’t remember standing up. “What the fuck do you know about what I know? Maybe I don’t know jack shit! Maybe I’m like -” She gestured wildly, “- fucking Princess Jasmine or some shit and I don’t know that I can’t just take shit from people!” She was almost blind in her anger.

“But you wouldn’t fucking know that cause you’re too busy selling your body in your fucking - ripped up jeans and missing shirts in front of your hoards of fucking fans to even know about what I know, do you Lenny?!”

#c:zoe kravitz #p:lenny kravitz #para:zoe x lenny #zkravitz2

[kimabutch]

JLCR: kimabutch edition

To celebrate somehow reaching 1000 songs on Jam Like Critical Role, the giant fan-created playlist that I’ve been curating since February, I’ve decided to put together a mini-playlist of own, featuring two of my favourite songs for each member of Vox Machina and The Mighty Nein! Each song has a YouTube link, but you can find the whole mini-playlist on Spotify here.

By mini-playlist I meant that there are “only” 36 songs, and also that I’ve pulled out my favourite lines and explained why I associate the song with them, so that this whole thing is approximately 5400 words long. I tried to restrain myself, but, well, Jam Like Critical Role is a testament to my lack of self-restraint. If it helps, I’ve tried to incorporate a diversity of artists, eras, and genres, from folk-punk to techno, country, dream-pop, classical, and beyond. I hope you find something you enjoy.

Grog

We’re Going To Be Friends, Jack Johnson (cover of White Stripes), for Grog and Pike’s incredibly wholesome childhood friendship. While many of the lyrics describe friends at school, which is not totally accurate for them, I can just imagine the two weirdos playing among the bugs:

“Walk with me, Suzy Lee/ Through the park and by the tree/ We can rest upon the ground/ And look at all the bugs we’ve found”

Not to mention Pike teaching Grog his ABCs:

“Tonight I’ll dream while in my bed/ While silly thoughts run through my head/ Of the bugs and alphabet”

I just love these two silly monstahs.

Giant, Juno Reactor: to balance out that last song, have some techno that makes me want to yell “Vox Machina, Fuck. Shit. UP!” and split Kevdak in half with a nat 20 from the sky. Appropriately named for our goliath friend, this song always temporarily convinces me that I, too, am a seven foot tall barbarian (which is not recommended while you are trying to do anything that requires brainpower.)

Keyleth

I Lost Myself, Lauren Mann and The Fairly Odd Folk, for Keyleth’s self-doubt about whether she can do her Aramente (or whether she even wants to) and fear that she’s hurting everyone:

“I’ve got voices in my head Making me think that this is where I end Hey, what do you see, if anything What do you see in me”

This specifically reminds me of her Aramente, and how it taught her so much more than she was expecting:

“You and me we made a plan To travel from here to there and back again Somewhere on that weathered road I found the dreams that I’d been looking for”

And “Hey, we’ve got the world to see/ So let’s forget our anxieties and get on our way” makes me think of Keyleth and Percy’s friendship, and how both of their stories are about trying to figure out what to do once you’ve achieved your goals. I want to think that after the story ended, they were still occasionally able to leave behind their responsibilities and travel the world together.

Take Us Back, Alela Diane, for a post-canon Keyleth, reminiscing on the old days and eventually outliving the rest of Vox Machina. I get a strong image of Kiki coming down from Zephra to see her friends:

“Atop the crags and cliffs the air is thin/ So we’ll find a mountain path on down the hill/ Meet me where the snowmelt flows/ It is there, my dear, where we’ll begin again”

And of her listening to Scanlan’s music, centuries later; they’d be the last two alive: “I’ve a friend who lives out by the river’s mouth/ He knows the fiddle’s cry is an old sound”

And then Keyleth, alone, listening to a river’s gurgle or the wind’s howling, and almost thinking she hears her friends: “Muted voices, just beyond/ The silent surface of what has gone.”

Percival

The Devil Spoke Here, Chicken Little, which I think is actually about the aftermath of a protest, but which I feel works eerily well for Percy’s development following the Briarwood arc. The beginning reminds me of his guilt, feelings of brokenness, and anger issues after he’s cast out Orthax — right down to his guilt about guns:

“There’s bullets in the streets/ and broken dishes on the floor/   enough anger in my heart/   to take the blame for it all/   I could take every bullet back/   if I could never feel like that”

It also covers Percy’s realization, after his conversation with the Raven Queen, that he’s free from the judgment of the gods, and acceptance that he’s the one who has bad thoughts for the greater good:

“I have no god for guidance/ still I’m praying all the same/ may everything I do/ be done for everybody’s gain”

And then this, for a reason that I can’t quite explain, feels so much like Percy’s forgiveness of Ripley at Glintshore, and his death at her hand:

“May we always fail/ with the best of intentions/   with our hearts always pure/   and our souls only human”

Wandering Star, Portishead: the weird trip hop vibe to this song somehow feels appropriate to Percy, and in particular to his darkest thoughts. The song addresses the possible punishments for these thoughts: “Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved/ The blackness, the darkness, forever.” It helps that this is an allusion to a Bible passage about atheists.

The second verse makes me think both of Percy’s relationship to the concept of eternity (because of the “needle’s eye” — a parable about the entrance of heaven for the rich) and his raven mask:

“Those who have seen the needle’s eye, now tread Like a husk, from which all that was, now has fled And the masks that the monsters wear To feed, upon their prey”

Additionally, “Doubled up inside/ Take a while to shed my grief” is reminiscent of Percy’s revelation, in the last episode, that he just really fucking misses his family. This whole time, something inside of him has been curled up into a little ball like the teenager he was five years ago, grieving his family.

Pike

Holy, Jamily Woods: a song about self-love and self-assurance, underscored by Christian imagery:

“Though I walk through the darkest valley I will fear no love/ Oh my smile my mind reassure me I don’t need no one […] Woke up this morning with my mind set on loving me”

Many of the lyrics can be interpreted either as the singer being self-sufficient because her god is there — or being sufficient even beyond her god: “I’m not lonely, I’m alone/ And I’m holy by my own.”

I think both interpretations work for Pike: that she has found (or is attempting to find) peace when she’s not with her friends, or that although she worships Sarenrae, the Everlight doesn’t necessarily interfere in her day-to-day life and she makes her own happiness. Either way, the song makes me feel at peace in the same way that Pike does.

The Otherside, Ohbijou, for Pike’s feelings about Scanlan during the year gap. Particularly, I’m reminded of Pike’s attempts to talk to Scanlan on the earring: “With things left unsaid so unsatisfied/ And a burning to hear your voice just one more time.”

And in these lyrics:

“And it’s so silly for me to worry/ About situations that don’t exist/ We create these problems and try to solve them/ Why waste each passing moment?”

I hear Pike trying to figure out her feelings for Scanlan, but shooting herself down because he’s gone, why even try?

Scanlan

The Pilgrim - Chapter 33, Willie Nelson (cover of Kris Kristofferson), which really encapsulates, for me, Scanlan’s complex relationship with religion: the fact that a guy who regularly produces lightning from his dick, messes with people’s memories, and actively attempts to cultivate a drug habit finds himself praying to the Everlight at night and eventually becomes Ioun’s chosen:

“He’s a poet, he’s a picker/ He’s a prophet, he’s a pusher/ He’s a pilgrim and a preacher/ And a problem when he’s stoned”

The lines “He’s a walking contradiction/ Partly truth and partly fiction” reminds me of all the identities he’s taken on, both for fun and to shield his emotions from his friends, whereas “Taking every wrong direction on his lonely way back home” makes me think of Scanlan’s long road back to Vox Machina after leaving them.

Handle With Care, Traveling Wilburys: almost every single song on this album works for Scanlan, so choosing just one was a real challenge. But this song is so good for all the shit that Scanlan’s been through (and all the shit that he’s been), and his relationship with Pike through all of that:

“Been beat up and battered around/ Been sent up, and I’ve been shot down/ You’re the best thing that I’ve ever found/ Handle me with care […]”

“Everybody’s got somebody to lean on” reminds me of Scanlan’s feeling, in episode 85, that he’s the odd one out in Vox Machina.

The last verse encapsulates Scanlan acknowledging his own fuck ups, working to make them right, and eventually, having a healthy relationship with Pike:

“I’ve been uptight and made a mess/ But I’ll clean it up myself, I guess/ Oh, the sweet smell of success”

Taryon

Father and Son, Cat Stevens, for Tary’s relationship with his father and his decision to leave home; the song is a duet of sorts. I think the father’s part of the song is a little generous for Howaardt Darrington, but retains the message of (somewhat condescendingly) trying to keep his son at home and have him reconsider his far-reaching plans: “I know that it’s not easy to be calm/ When you’ve found something going on.”

The son’s part, though, captures Tary’s frustration with his father’s strictness and inability to actually understand his passions:

“How can I try to explain?/ ‘Cause when I do he turns away again/ It’s always been the same, same old story/ From the moment I could talk/ I was ordered to listen/ Now there’s a way and I know/ That I have to go away”

And the last verse is some real closeted gay feelings that always make me tear up:

“All the times that I cried/ Keeping all the things I knew inside/ It’s hard, but it’s harder to ignore it”

What’s It Gonna Be, Shura, not so much for the song’s lyrics, but for its music video, which is all about falling for a different gender than you expected, and which is incredibly sweet and beautiful.

That being said, you could definitely take the lyrics to be about his crush on Percy and his obliviousness about who in Vox Machina is sleeping with whom:

“Do I tell you I love you or not?/ 'Cause I can’t really guess what you want/ If you let me down, let me down slow”

Vax’ildan

Glorious, Muse, for Vax’s early relationship with faith. He can’t help but feel drawn towards Sarenrae’s light, even as he has doubts and perhaps even anger towards the gods:

Faith: It drives me away/ But it turns me on/ Like a stranger’s love It rockets through the universe It fuels the lies and feeds the curse And we, too, could be glorious”

He wants that glory that he sees in Pike, but he doesn’t know how to approach it or reconcile it with his life experiences. And then he finds his whole world shattered as he’s chosen by the Raven Queen, and he once again has to find faith, though in a way that he never expected:

“I need to believe But I still want more With the cuts and the bruises”

Fields of Gold, Sting: a song from Vax to Keyleth. I can imagine them so perfectly in this scene, perhaps during their year of downtime, with the winds of Zephra blowing through the fields and their hope beyond hope that they’ll be able to stay together:

“Will you stay with me? Will you be my love?/ Upon the fields of barley/ We’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky/ As we lie in fields of gold”

“See the west wind move like a lover so/ Upon the fields of barley/ Feel her body rise when you kiss her mouth/ Among the fields of gold”

Years later, Vax knows that Keyleth will see those fields again and think of him: “You’ll remember me when the west wind moves/ Upon the fields of barley.”

Vex’ahlia

Half Jack, The Dresden Dolls: a truly haunting song about the pain and unavoidability of being her father’s daughter — she’s always half Jill (her mother) and half Jack (her father.) The whole song is incredibly painful for Vex, and the lines:

“It might destroy me But I’d sacrifice my body If it meant I’d get the Jack part out”

always makes me think of “If I could pull the blood of you from my veins and give it back, I would.” Also,

“But if you listen/ You’ll learn to hear the difference/ Between the halfs and the half nots”

reminds me of her asking Percy if she looks like she comes from money — or a younger Vex, in Syngorn, gradually realizing why everyone looked down on her and Vax. Lastly, isn’t “I see my mother in my face/ But only when I travel” absolutely heartbreaking for her?

Fall Down or Fly, Lindi Ortega, only partly because Lindi Ortega strongly resembles my headcanon for Vex. The other part is because of my abiding love for how Vex learned to fly, and how that worked with her character arc: from the first time, in the Briarwoods arc, that she discovered her love for flying, to her flaunting convention and stealing the broom, to Percy modifying it for her, to her friends cheering her on with chicken target practice, and finally to her soaring through the skies with confidence. And the song captures that so well for me, as well as her decision to keep going even when her father, Saundor’s words, and her own self-doubt bring her down:

“This is your life/ You can fall down or fly/ You can burn out a shot if you want/ This is your life/ You can live it or die/ You can quit now or try if you want/ But don’t you give up, don’t you give up”

This also reminds me of how much all of Vox Machina adores and supports Vex (and I will join them in crying about how awesome she is):

“You said what is there to lose?/ Do it if you choose/ I got faith in you/ Everything you do/ I know you are gonna make it to the top”

(I also maintain that a modern Vex would be really into country music, particularly the genre of country song in which women tell people to fuck off.)

Vox Machina

Call Them Brothers, Regina Spektor feat. Only Son, for Scanlan’s departure from Vox Machina and the whole team’s attempts to deal with it. I first heard this song in an absolutely heartbreaking TAZ animatic, and my pain increased exponentially when I realized how much it also worked for Critical Role. It’s perfect, in my opinion, for the sense that their family, which has seen them through so much, is irreparably broken — “That’s it, it’s split, it won’t recover/ Just frame the halves and call them brothers.”

But then you also get “Over and over, they call us their friends/ Can’t we find something else to pretend?” for Scanlan’s insistence that Vox Machina doesn’t really care about him, and “Find your fathers and your mothers/ If you remember who they are” for “what’s my mother’s name?”

Maybe this should go on Scanlan’s playlist, but I think “The hunt is on, everyone’s chasing a shot” also works for the way that the rest of Vox Machina independently searched for Scanlan during their year of downtime… and the feelings of defeat in the song just feel appropriate to the whole group.

(I actually have a playlist full of songs for episode 85, because I enjoy making myself sad; it took a lot of effort not to put them all here.)

Freaks, The Hawk in Paris: I can never decide whether this is a Mighty Nein or Vox Machina song, but I’m putting it here mostly because “If you come along with us, the doors are never ending” is absolutely hilarious in for Vox Machina’s single greatest enemy.

That, and there are a lot of lines that work for individual members of the group: “We have a flair for the shade and the inbetween” (Vax); “We like to run with the wolves from the darker scene” (Keyleth); “When we turn the safety off, the shots are automatic” (Percy); “All our friends tell their friends we’re so dramatic” (Scanlan); and “We’ll make you swoon, make it hurt just a little” (Vex).

Additionally, “We have a plan, we’ve got the means for your liberation/ You’ll only have to blur the lines on a few occasions” makes me think of the Briarwood arc, and I makes me think of Percy dramatically revealing his identity to the priest — and cut to Grog pulling out a guy’s tongue.

Anyways, if I learn to make AMVs by the time that the animated series is released, this will be the first that I’ll make.

Beauregard

Saint Simon, The Shins, for Beau’s escape from the Cobalt Soul. The song expresses frustration at weighty intellectualism and how much it doesn’t teach you — which i think is something Beau felt strongly with her monk teachers:

“After all these implements and texts designed by intellects/ So vexed to find, evidently there’s still so much that hides […] Since I don’t have time nor mind to figure out the nursery rhymes/ That helped us out in making sense of our lives”

So she tries not to care about anything because it’s safer that way (“The cruel, uneventful state of apathy releases me”), and she runs away:

“I’ll try hard not to give in, batten down to fare the wind/ Rid my head of this pretence, allow myself no mock defence/ Step into the night”

I think the last part of the song could also work for her meeting the Mighty Nein and starts understanding friendship and love: “Mercy’s eyes are blue when she places them in front of you/ Nothing really holds a candle to the solemn warmth you feel inside you.”

Jonas and Ezekiel, Indigo Girls, because what kind of lesbian would I be if I didn’t put at least one gay-written song on Beau’s playlist? This one is about road trips, wandering, and looking for a purpose:

“I left my anger in a river running Highway 5 New Hampshire, Vermont, bordered by College farms, hubcaps, and falling rocks Voices in the woods and the mountaintops”

But also contains one verse that I think fits her strict family, her new family in the Mighty Nein, and the “devils” — or tieflings — of which her family would certainly not approve:

“Now when I was young my people taught me well/ Give back what you take or you’ll go to hell/ It’s not the devil’s land, you know it’s not that kind/ Every devil I meet becomes a friend of mine/ Every devil I meet is an angel in disguise”

And something about this reminds me of her journey into Xhorhas and attempts to uncover conspiracies and work out the truth: “In the war over land where the world began/ Prophecies say it’s where the world will end.”

Caduceus

Born at the Right Time, Paul Simon, for Caduceus’s belief in destiny and his place therein. The chorus describes his occasional naïveté, and the happiness of his life in the Blooming Grove, with his family:

“Never been lonely Never been lied to Never had to scuffle in fear Nothing denied to”

And then gets into his conviction that his goddess and the world itself put him where he is:

“Born at the instant/ The church bells chime/ And the whole world whispering/ Born at the right time”

The very chill vibe of the song is also very Clay, to me.

Happy All the Time, Danny Schmidt: the singer himself has said that he doesn’t know whether or not this song is ironic and/or melancholic, so I’m going to go with a sincere and cheerful interpretation for Caduceus, with maybe a hint of nostalgia for more peaceful days among his family. It’s got some incredibly lush and occasionally strange nature imagery that I think is perfect for him:

“I took the time to breathe cause I was happy all the time/ Among the rootbuds and the weeds cause I was happy all the time/ But the peat moss and the leaves took turns with both my feet/ Until my toes took root and I was happy, I was happy all the time”

I think Caduceus is still happy, but he was definitely at peace as a hermit.

Caleb

I Miss That Feeling, Tennis: a song about panic attacks and how the physical effects, when described, almost seem like falling in love. It works not only for Caleb’s panic attacks, but also, relatedly, his relationship with fire, which scares him, even as he likes the way it feels — “Something like pleasure, you’d never believe it.”

The fiery way that the singer describes panic attacks is also very Caleb:

“I miss that feeling/ Flicker hot and hovering/ Like my own discovering/ Eagerly, tenderly/ I miss that feeling/ Flicker spread into an itch/ Into a burn, into a twitch/ Slow and even”

It brings me back to the first time we saw it, in the gnoll mines. Also, “Every little thing starts trembling/ Recorded by the needle of an EKG” feels very reminiscent of his hospitalization, though from a modern perspective.

Putting the Dog to Sleep, The Antlers, for Caleb’s very tentative trust in the Mighty Nein, and in particular his friendship with Beau. I think this song really encapsulates Caleb’s pain and skittishness, especially near the beginning of their campaign, as well as his desperation (unknown even to himself) to love again:

“Well, prove to me I’m not gonna die alone/ Unstitch that shit I’ve sewn/ To close up the hole that tore through my skin/ Well my trust in you is a dog with a broken leg/ Tendons too torn to beg for you to let me back in”

And this feels like something that Beau would say to Caleb — upfront and caring all at the same time, reminding him that his actions affect everyone else and asking him not to run:

“You said, ‘I can’t prove to you you’re not gonna die alone/ But trust me to take you home/ To clean up that blood all over your paws/ You can’t keep running out […] Kicking yourself in the head/ Because you’re kicking me too.’”

By the end of the song, Caleb is starting to believe her, and even asking her to trust him: “Put your trust in me/ I’m not gonna die alone… I don’t think so…”

Fjord

Release the Kraken, The Daysleepers: I added this to Fjord’s playlist back when everyone was speculating that his patron was something kraken-like, and even now that this is clearly not the case, I think it still works for Uk’otoa (Uk’otoa) and his attempts at freedom: “It pulled the ships down/ It’s rising from the deep below.”

But also for Fjord’s relationship with Avantika — for his attempts to get close to her in order to save himself and his friends:  

“Turn the lights down Careful as a serpent’s tongue Move without a sound Gentle as the cold wind moans”

I think “When you sold love/ Your heart becomes a monster” is some of what Fjord felt after those encounters: like he gave part of himself away.

21st Century Child, Daggy Man, for Fjord’s self-hatred and the masks he puts on. Many of the lyrics could fit several characters (particularly Beau, Caleb, and Scanlan), but

“I hate the sound of myself/ When I’m being honest/ Sounds like somebody else/ And I don’t wanna listen/ To the whinings of a 21st century child”

just perfectly captures his feelings about his voice and his past self — weak and whiny, and not who he wants to be. And then we get these lines, which feel like a good summary of his issues with identity and deception:

“And I’ve struggled with how/ Others perceive me/ And I can’t tell if I’m better/ Or just better at deceiving And I’ll keep going until I’m called out”

Jester

The Sweetest Sounds, Ella Fitzgerald (cover of Richard Rodgers), for pre-stream Jester barely waiting for her exciting life to begin. I first heard this song in Rodger & Hammerstein’s Cinderella, and while there is something fairy-tale-like about Jester, I think this upbeat, jazzy cover fits her well:

“The most entrancing sight of all Is yet for me to see And the dearest love in all the world Is waiting somewhere for me”

I can just imagine a 10-year-old Jester listening to the band at the Lavish Chateau play this song, dressing up in Marion’s clothes, and pretending she’s in a storybook romance.

One Hand in my Pocket, Alanis Morissette, which really captures her beautiful complexity:

“I’m free, but I’m focused/ I’m green, but I’m wise/ I’m hard, but I’m friendly/ I’m sad, but I’m laughing”

because Jester is so many things all at once, and none of them negate each other. It’s so hopeful (“What it all comes down to/ Is that everything’s gonna be quite alright”) and comforting (“What it all boils down to/ Is that no one’s really got it figured out just yet”) in a way that really reminds me of my favourite blue cleric.

The whole song has such a fun, free, summer vibe that always makes me smile — just like Jester.

Mollymauk

Carnival Overture, Antonín Dvořák (Leonard Bernstein & New York Philharmonic Orchestra): one of my favourite pieces of classical music ever — when I hear it, an entire music video about a carnival plays in my head. The exuberant theme that bowls you over from the start reminds me of Molly’s effervescent, ostentatious personality.

The slower and quieter part in the middle with the violin and woodwind solos gives me a picture of Molly and Yasha sitting alone in the evenings just outside the carnival encampment, cuddled together — Yasha talking about her wife, Molly telling jokes, and the both of them making up names for constellations and flowers. Then the quick-paced minor section makes me think of the bloodhunter tiefling in combat, deadly with his swords and vicious mockery — before the return to the joyful, triumphant original theme.

Wonderful Everyday, Chance the Rapper & The Social Experiment**: this is sort of a cover of the Arthur theme song, but in the absolute best way possible. The meandering, loose, and extraordinarily happy vocals always remind me of Molly’s way of living.

Although some of the lyrics are more optimistic than Molly (I think he’d laugh at “Everybody that you meet/ Has an original point of view” and say that their points of view are usually bullshit), the message of appreciating every single day is just wonderful for him.

And the last bit hits me like a ton of bricks:

“And when I go down/ I'ma go down swinging/ My eyes still smiling/ And my heart still singing”

“Eyes never shut,” indeed.

**not on Spotify, sorry!

Nott

The Sore Feet Song, Ally Kerr: at first it appears to be a simple song about traveling long distances to find your love, which certainly describes Nott’s search for Yeza: “I walked ten thousand miles, ten thousand miles to see you/ And every gasp of breath I grabbed at just to find you.”

But the second verse is where it really gets into Nott’s thieving, rat-eating, badass ways:

“I stole ten thousand pounds, ten thousand pounds to see you I robbed convenient stores cause I thought they’d make it easier I lived off rats and toads, and I starved for you I fought off giants bears and I killed them too”

I love this strange little goblin.

Fox in the Snow, Belle & Sebastian: this song has always been a bit of a mystery to me, but the lyrics remind me of Nott’s intense vulnerability after she was transformed into a goblin — and in particular her self-image as something animalistic:

“Fox in the snow, where do you go/ To find something you could eat?/ Because the word out on the street is you are starving/ Don’t let yourself grow hungry now/ Don’t let yourself grow cold”

The second verse, which switches to describing a human girl, reminds me of pre-transformation Veth, more acceptable in body but no less socially ostracized than Nott:

“Girl in the snow, where do you go/ To find someone that will do?/ To tell someone all the truth before it kills you/ Listen to your crazy laugh/ Before you hang a right/ And disappear from sight/ What do they know anyway?”

I can just see that exact scene play out with a young Veth, right down to the “crazy laugh.” I’m glad she found Yeza, but she must still have been pretty lonely without any other friends.

Yasha

Into the Barrens, Grizfolk, for Yasha’s years of blank wandering after Zuala’s death. This song fits Yasha so well that for months, I somehow tricked myself into believing that Ashley had put it on her playlist. But I feel like this encapsulates her hopeless feelings, away from all society, not living for anything or anyone:

“Cast me away, my shadow’s cold/ Into the barrens where I will grow old/ Well, I’m not looking for answers/ And I’m not looking for gold”

And I can see this verse for the beginning of her relationship with the Stormlord, following voices she can’t understand as she wanders, barely alive:

“The voices in my head/ They echo in the wind and I begin to sway/ I follow what they say/ I can’t see their eyes, but I hear howling through the haze”

Dreams, Fleetwood Mac: technically a break-up song, but I can’t help but think of Yasha’s ever-present guilt and her memories of Zuala when I hear:

“Listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness/ Like a heartbeat drives you mad/ In the stillness of remembering what you had/ And what you lost”

The storm imagery also works for Yasha — “When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know” makes me think of her fight with the Stormlord on the boat, which allowed her to open up to her friends. And it touches on Yasha’s opaque dreams (“Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions/ I keep my visions to myself”).

(Ally and Stevie also have a lesbian mash-up of Dreams and Rhiannon, two of the gayest Fleetwood Mac songs, that I associate strongly with Beauyasha.)

Mighty Nein

Old Black Train, The Blasting Company (from Over the Garden Wall): trains don’t exist in Exandria (yet! — Percy or Taryon should get on that) but this is more of a metaphor for life. It reminds me of the Mighty Nein setting out from Alfield, not knowing the twists and turns they were going to face, the places they’d go, nor the family they’d become:

“This journey is a long one/ It will take you all around/ Life rushing by your window/ Before it lays you down”

Then there’s this verse:

“Oh come on now young stranger/ Weren’t you someone’s son? How’d you find this depot 'Cause it ain’t where you belong”

which feels very appropriate for many members of the Mighty Nein, separated as they are from their families and wandering in lands that aren’t welcoming to them. There’s also a verse that’s reminiscent of the graveyard they passed on the way to Zadash, which more and more feels like a portent of things to come:

“You will pass a graveyard/ Stones worn by the years/ The train’ll stop a minute but don’t let it leave you here”

Sailing, Leisure Cruise: another song about transportation, although this one is a little less metaphorical. As you can probably guess, I associate it with their adventures on the Mystake and the Ball Eater, which begun by total accident but which, in my opinion, was a turning point for the group, and ultimately helped them grow closer together:

“And to our surprise we’re sailing The high seas in the middle of the ocean […] We’re sailing the wildest mystery And to our surprise we’re happy and free”

Okay, so maybe “happy and free” is a bit of an exaggeration for that arc (particularly for poor Nott) but I think there were a lot of moments in which the Mighty Nein learned unexpected lessons about themselves.

And I think this is a good summary of the Mighty Nein’s modus operandi: seize every passing opportunity, because you don’t know what tomorrow will bring:

“Maybe it’s today Maybe it’s tomorrow But we have to make a play Or the chance will fade away”

And that’s a wrap! Thanks for listening and reading. Love you all <3

#critical role #Cr music #my stuff

[writingarchangels]

Wrath of the Nephilim (Jack Kline & Nickifer)

Pairing: Nick/Lucifer

Characters: Jack Kline, Lucifer, Nick, Castiel, Sam & Dean

Word count: 3.9K

Triggers: major character death, description of corpses, torture, S14 spoilers, hammers, murder family, child abuse, hints at claustrophobia 

Written for the ‘major character death’ square of my Heaven & Hell Bingo card and the ‘Jack in the Box’ challenge by keepersofthehunt.

Mod tags: @heavenandhellbingo @keepersofthehunt

SPOILER WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS OF S14E19 ‘JACK IN THE BOX’

This is pretty much how I want it to go from there lol

Locked up in the Ma'lak Box, Jack makes a decision and has a revelation which will change his life forever.

They abandoned me! Mind racing, the young Nephilim slammed his fists against the roof of the metal box he had been trapped in as he screamed his throat raw.

"SAM! DEAN! Let me out!" He tried in vain as he let out a sob. He continued to bang against the metal roof. "I don't like it in here. I'm scared," he whimpered.

The tiny space was confining and Jack felt like the walls would close in any second now and crush him alive. He never felt so small and helpless and abandoned before.

"Not gonna happen, kiddo," Lucifer's voice spoke from next to him. Jack clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the Archangel to the best of his abilities. It took him a while to figure out the truth, but he did. The spell Nick had done had bound Jack to Lucifer, a telepathic link of some sorts, which allowed the Archangel to communicate with him from The Empty. "You trusted the Winchester's, and look what happened to you," Lucifer sighed, sounding almost sad.

"True. They might have trusted you once... but all that is gone now since you killed their dearest mother," Lucifer continued in their one-way conversation. "Trust is a two-way deal, you know? If they trusted you, why would they trap you in this box in the first place?"

"Shut up!" Jack yelled, curling his hands into fists. "They love me. They will let me out soon, they promised. It was only an accident," he said, unsure if he was trying to convince himself or Lucifer.

Judging from the look Lucifer gave him, he clearly didn't buy it. "I'm sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but they don't. And how long have you been here now? Six hours, maybe?" Lucifer spoke. Jack closed his eyes and let out a sob as Lucifer talked. "You've always been nothing but a powerful weapon to their cause. They might talk about this 'family don't end in blood' crap, but when it gets down to it, family is blood to them. Only blood. Nothing else." Slowly, Jack lifted up his hands and covered his eyes with them, as if he could shield his falling tears from the Devil. "The moment you proved to be any trouble to them, any more than they were willing to invest in you... they dropped you and tossed you away."

"They love me," Jack cried.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer said. Judging from his voice, Jack knew he meant it.

Eyes wet from the tears, he turned to face his father. "Where am I?" He whimpered.

A deep sigh came from the angel. "It's called a Ma'lak Box. It's specifically designed to keep any being, especially an Archangel, sealed away forever," he replied, voice sounding rather flat. "I knew they were low... but how dare they give this kind of fate to a two-year-old?"

Jack curled in on himself. Or the best he could in his small prison. "Forever?" He repeated, feeling utterly horrified. He half-expected to feel sad, but he didn't. Yet he didn't feel nothing either.

Rage. A white-hot, all consuming rage boiled up from the core of his very being. The nails of his bailed hands dug into his skin but Jack ignored it. They just tossed him away! They never even gave him a change to redeem or explain himself... they never loved him.

He locked eyes with Lucifer's now red gaze. Jack saw a matching anger and rage reflect back at him though those burning eyes. "How do I get out of here?" He asked his father.

"I do not know," Lucifer replied. "This box is even capable of sealing me up for good. And if there is a way out, I do not know about it." He added and Jack felt his hope die down. A smirk formed on Lucifer's face. "But you are not me. You are better and stronger than I could ever hope to become."

Jack looked straight into his father's fiery eyes. "You are a Nephilim and my son. You have the power to bring the universe down on its knees if you so desire, and no one would be able to stop you. So show them. Hold up a mirror and show them who you are! Create your own freedom, kiddo."

Looking up at the metal roof above his head, which he almost couldn't see in the darkness, Jack closed his eyes and focused. For so long, he had been running from his powers - being taught to fear them and hide behind walls and fake masks. He had been afraid for so long. But not anymore, now he embraced his wilder and more feral side. Reaching down to the depths of his being, he grasped his powers and let them flow through him like a rampaging thunderstorm set loose and destroying all in its path. His eyes snapped open, now a radiant gold and glowing brighter and fiercer than ever before. Then he unleashed his powers and the box he was trapped in started shaking rapidly as Jack's breathing became heavy, not used to controlling his abilities to such a degree.

"Come on, Jack!" Lucifer encouraged him, a feral smile on his face. "If you want to be free, you have to do better than this!"

Clenching his jaw and accidentally biting his tongue, Jack took an ever deeper leap into himself and bought more of his powers closer. It was like he was trying to reach out to the entire universe and take it in his hold. There is so much. There is no end to them, he couldn't help but think, finally starting to understand why everyone wanted him on their side since he had been born. And even before then. Angels, demons, the Winchester's... they were all the same.

The only one who loved him for him was his father, Lucifer. And Jack broke his heart.

His eyes narrowed as his irises burned even brighter, illuminating the entire box in a golden light. He could fix his relationship with his father later. For now, he had to focus on freeing himself.

"I have fate in you, Jack. I always had," Lucifer whispered just as the sigils on the box started to burn off, unable to contain the furious Nephilim inside as the Bunker itself shook and threatened to collapse into itself. "If you ever need me by your side, for whatever reason, you know where to find me." He added. Jack knew what he meant.

If you want to give me a second chance as your father, get me out of the Empty and we can be together.

"And please," Lucifer added, "if you do. Don't forget Nick. I kind of love him."

"Thanks for helping me, Dad," Jack whispered back just as Lucifer faded from view.

And then Jack was free. The box exploding as its parts flew around the room and Jack slowly rose up from the dust flying around him. His powers had turned the air static and the feathers on his wings shook from the raw power. Alarms blared around him and the red emergency lights of the Bunker gave the room an eerie feel.

Footsteps sounded as Sam, Dean, and even Castiel ran into the room. All of them looked horrified - and scared - at seeing the furious Nephilim freed and the box destroyed.

They should be scared, Jack fumed. Stimulated by his anger, his powers came off him in powerful waves. Wings uncurling from his back in the form of terrifying shadows, Jack allowed them to feel it. Feel his power... and understand just what they made as their enemy. To understand that they had a chance with him, that he used to see them as a family, but that was all gone now.

With the display of his wings, he made the Bunker collapse around them as debris and dust rained down. Seeing them stumble over their own feet at how the ground shook underneath them, Jack smiled.

"Jack! Stop this!" Castiel called out to him, less bothered by it thanks to him being an angel.

Jack looked at the Seraphim. "You all had your change," he replied, "I am done with dealing with all of your shit and playing the perfect pet. This is me, and you should damn well fear me. They shouldn't have locked me up in that box!"

"Yes, they shouldn't have!" Castiel said, taking a step closer. "But please, stop this! We are a family. We can get over this."

"No, we're not. My father, my real father, who you turned me against, is in the Empty," with those words, the roof of the Bunker fell down and Jack carried himself away on his wings. The Winchester's would undoubtedly survive this, they were headstrong, but he would deal with them later.

There was something he had to take care of first.

~~

With a flutter of wings, the young Nephilim landed in the abandoned house where Nick had tried to resurrect Lucifer. Stumbling over his feet, he fell flat on his face with a yelp. He wasn't fully used to flying yet and needed some more practice. Face red and glad that no one could see his tumble to the floor, he scrambled up to his feet and looked around. The house looked the same as it did last time he had been there. The main difference was the smell.

The stench of rotting flesh and burned skin met his nostrils and Jack coughed, pulling a face as he covered his nose. They had never disposed of Nick's body and simply left it behind, so Jack knew that the smell would be bad, but that didn't make it any easier. Nick never got any funeral; there was no one left to care enough about him to give him one. At least it wouldn't make it very hard to find Nick's body. He just had to follow the smell.

Scrunching up his nose, his golden-pink wings awkwardly folded around himself to try and block out the smell. It didn't take long to find the decaying corpse.

An old blanket had been hastily thrown over his body and Jack reached down, planning to take it off before he thought twice about it and instead removed the blanket with his telekinetic abilities. The blanket flew off Nick and Jack frowned at the state his body was in. The bones of his hands were awkwardly pointing at odd angles from when Jack had broken and twisted the bones, and his skin was half decayed and burned at most parts. Squaring his shoulders, Jack kneeled before Nick's corpse and reached towards his vast powers once again. Holding his palms above him, being careful not to touch the decaying skin, Jack rained his light down on the body as he healed him physically, reaching down towards Hell at the same time to pull up Nick's burning soul. He ripped through reality itself and resurrected him.

Perhaps Jack could have done the same for Mary, but deep down he knew how empty he was. He didn't want to resurrect Mary out of his own free will, he only really tried for the Winchester's, and that perhaps was why it didn't work. Necromancy is a delicate art, Rowena had told him. To bring someone back, one has to feel and mean it. That was why he only bought back an empty shell in Mary's case. But this time, it was different.

In a way, he still did it for Lucifer, but there was more to it. There was some kind of kinship between Jack and Nick. Jack grew up as a child without a father - a real father - and Nick was a father who lost his son and never got to experience parenthood. And both of them saw the real Lucifer instead of the Devil the world portrayed him as.

Nick gasped when his soul was pulled back in his healed body and he rolled over on his side, body heaving as he looked around feverishly. Then his eyes fell on the Nephilim before him and realization hit. "Why?" The man asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Jack understood the unsaid question. Why did you kill me just to bring me back?

"Because I was wrong and I am sorry," Jack said with an aching heart, realizing that perhaps, not his entire soul might have burned off. He still had some left. "But I am going to fix everything now. I will bring him back, Nick."

Nick's icy blue eyes looked straight at him and Jack could tell he was weighing his opinions. "What made you change your mind?" He finally asked, sitting up slowly, his gaze not leaving the Nephilim. Jack knew that everything depended on his answer.

"Sam and Dean, they," Jack forced back a sob, "they locked me up. Tried to seal me away for eternity in a small and dark coffin. They think I'm a monster."

"Jack?" Nick asked, surprisingly gentle. "You are not a monster," he added, giving him a weak smile. "But alright, I believe you," he nodded, "anything I can help with to bring him back?"

Jack shook his head and stood up. "No, I got this," he said. "He will only need a vessel, so be ready," he added, at which Nick nodded. The mortal man sat kneeled before the young Nephilim, like a Knight before a King.

Unveiling his powers and reaching into the Empty with his presence, Jack looked for Lucifer as he had once - unknowingly - searched for Castiel. It wasn't that hard to find the Archangel. Even after millions of years, he still shone the brightest out of all angels. Jack's jaw tensed up as the building shook and the sky exploded in a thunderstorm mixed with a bright golden light which rained down upon the world. It was like the universe shook. He opened a portal before his father, which he jumped through. Jack would need to keep it open until Lucifer has claimed Nick, otherwise the Empty might suck him in again. The Archangel's light illuminated Nick, who smiled and proceeded to exchange some words with his lover.

"I suggest you two hurry," Jack spoke between clenched teeth, "I'm not sure how long I can keep this up." The Empty had started to fight back, enraged that one of its charges was trying to escape and it took nearly all of Jack's powers to keep it at bay and prevent it from taking Lucifer. His arms, which were reached up towards the sky started to shake as his shirt became clammy and breathing heavy. He was fighting to even keep standing.

Nick shot him a quick look before facing Lucifer's radiance again. Lucifer proceeded to ask him something, of which Jack did not catch the words, but he did hear Nick's reply. "For you, it's always yes," the man said and then there was a burst of light as Lucifer entered his vessel again. When the last of his being had entered Nick, Jack slammed the gate to the Empty shut and fired a burst of power at the entity residing within and slamming it so deep within the Empty that it got pulled back to sleep once again.

With the portal closed and plenty of his powers drained, Jack collapsed to the floor, fighting to keep his eyes open.

A hand touched his head and gently combed through his hair. Some of Jack's powers returned when the grace touched him and he pulled up his face, looking into Lucifer's red eyes. "Thank you, my son," the Devil said as he helped Jack up to his feet.

Without thinking about it, Jack leaped forward, into his father's arms and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug as he buried his face against his chest. Startled for a moment, Lucifer composed himself and hugged his son back as he tried to hold back the tears at his child actually showing him any affection for once. Carefully, Lucifer wrapped his pink wings around his child and held him close. They stood there for a while, embracing each other as Lucifer rubbed Jack's back in a soothing way.

The tranquility of their moment was disturbed when Lucifer tensed up. "And here they come," he muttered with a sigh. "Couldn't they even give us a moment alone?" The door kicked open and Jack jumped up, out of his father's arms and whirling around to face the door.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel entered the room. Jack was the first one they saw, but Sam was the first who noticed Lucifer standing behind the Nephilim. "Nick?" He tried.

"Try again, Sammy," Lucifer mocked him, letting his eyes flash red for a second to show them who he was. "Even though, I must say that my dearest Nick is still with me."

"No," was the single horrified sound leaving Sam's lips as he stumbled back. His eyes didn't leave Lucifer and Jack noted that all color had drained from his face.

"Surprise!" Lucifer said, flailing his arms around.

"What did you do!" Dean screamed at Jack, all of his emotions clear to see on his face. Betrayal, anger, hurt, and shock being the most prominent.

"I got my father back," Jack said, returning Dean's glare. "My real father," he added, watching Dean flinch at those words.

"Jack, that is not your father. Lucifer is evil and a liar, he's manipulating you! Please, listen to me!" Castiel desperately tried to reason with him.

"Ouch, you know I'm standing right here, don't you?" Lucifer muttered, yet Castiel seemed to ignore him.

"Jack, we're your family!" Sam told him, taking a step closer yet he stopped dead in his tracks at Jack's heavy glare.

"You tried to seal me away in a box! For all of eternity!" Jack yelled. Some of his powers flared out and made the wind howl stronger and beat against the windows and roof outside. "You have no right to call yourself my family! Family doesn't do that to each other!"

"We're sorry, okay?" Sam tried again.

Lucifer scoffed from behind him and Jack stood there fuming. As if a simple 'sorry' could fix everything. He understood that they were upset about their mother, but they shouldn't have treated him like that, especially if they 'trusted' him like they said they did. Lucifer was right, Jack knew. They didn't trust him. Not anymore. They were just scared of him so they tried to cozy up to him again.

"Sorry?!" Jack hissed out. He glared the three of them down. "You should be," he added. Holding up his hand, he clenched his hands into fists as he cut off their airway. Sam and Dean gasped for air as they sunk down on their knees. "You shouldn't have locked me up in that box."

"Jack!" Castiel yelled. Angel blade in hand, the Seraphim went at him but quickly found his way blocked by Lucifer. Without thinking about it, Castiel stabbed the Archangel which obviously didn't work.

Lucifer looked almost disappointed. "You are an idiot, Asstiel," he said. Swiftly taking the blade out of his chest, he turned it around and plunged it through Castiel's throat instead. The angel died in a burst of light and fell down to the floor where he laid motionless, surrounded by his burned wings.

A noise came from Dean at witnessing Castiel's death. Jack's eyes narrowed and his powers took a tighter hold on both hunters. Snapping one of his fingers, he burned Sam from the inside out as he had once done with Nick. The hunter's skin started burning and blackening and falling off as he screamed. Jack's lips curled up as he made sure to do it slowly so that Sam could feel every second of it. Dean started screaming and cursing as well when Jack went and snapped Sam's bones in half. Sam cried Dean's name, but it was in vain. He made sure to keep Dean sustained in such a way that he would be able to see it all. Hurt him where it hurt most.

Getting sick of Sam's screams and twisting after a while, Jack simply snapped his neck with a flick of his wrist. Sam's huge body fell to the floor with a thud, dull eyes staring ironically at a frozen Dean.

Dean screamed for his brother and Jack turned towards him. He was aware of Lucifer's eyes on him. "Lucifer," he asked, "do you have one of Nick's hammers?" He asked.

Silently, the Devil gave him one. For a second, Jack looked down at the hammer in his hand, at its shape and the dried blood which Nick never bothered to wash off.

He walked over towards Dean, stopping in front of him as he held the hammer loosely in his hold. He looked down at the man who he had once viewed as family, in times which felt like centuries ago, and who now looked up at him with nothing but hatred in those forest-green eyes. "You are a monster," Dean told him.

Jack closed his eyes for a second, pushing down all his doubt before he opened them again and gave the man a hard and icy stare. His mind was set. "You made me one," he replied, swinging back the hammer and connecting it to Dean's head, smashing in his skull with a powerful swing and taking his life.

Warm blood splattered all over him and Jack stood over the bodies of Sam and Dean Winchester, breathing heavily and covered in their blood as he held Nick's hammer. "You know," Lucifer said, suddenly reminding Jack of the fact that he wasn't alone, "Nick feels kinda like a proud mom now. That was a nice swing you did there."

Jack took a second to look at the fallen bodies of his ex-family, taking a moment to realize he had killed all of the remaining Winchester's. Mary, Sam, and even Dean. How many had tried to do what he did and failed? "What now?" He asked his father, feeling rather helpless.

"Whatever you want," Lucifer told him, spreading out his arms as he stepped closer towards his son. "But if you want, my offer from all those months ago still stands."

"Your offer?" Jack repeated, feeling somewhat stupid.

"We can leave this world behind and go to the stars," Lucifer said, "I can show you all that there is out there and there won't be anywhere we can't go. Leave Earth to humanity, monsters, demons, and whatnot. The three of us?" He mentioned between them. "We will make our own world and create a destiny that suits us. What do you think?"

Jack smiled. "I'd like that," he said. Lucifer smiled back at him. Jack noted that he looked happy; as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He decided he liked to see Lucifer that way.

"What about Nick?" Jack asked.

Lucifer's clear eyes twirled in amusement. "Nick loves Star Wars," he said, "he's about as excited as it can get at the possibility to discover the universe and everything out there."

At that, they exchanged a secret smile and both spread out their radiant wings. Lucifer's a sparkling pink, and Jack's golden with a pastel pink around the edges. And then they flew off as they departed the world and left for the stars. Lucifer's feathers lightly caressed Jack's during flight and the Nephilim allowed himself to form a broad smile on his face as the wind howled through his hair and sensitive plumage, excited at his new life with his two fathers and the possibilities now laid out before him.

Tags: @luciferstempest @gabrielsbackbitches @jgvfhl @staycejo1 @blakechaos08 @qslucid @i-miss-balthazar

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#heavenandhellbingo #nickifer #14.19 #spn 14.19 #jack in the box #nick the vessel #major character death #hints at child abuse #claustrophobia #hammers #Jack has a hammer #Lucifer is the best dad for Jack #Nick is basically Jack's mom #supernatural #spn fanfiction #beloved characters will die #nickifer gets their happy ending #this world doesn't deserves lucifer #I believe I got all the necessarily tags now