#Dream is projecting how lonely he is into his creations again

[phantasmagoricalullaby]

Dream: He is my masterpiece. A dark mirror made to reflect everything humanity will not confront. Your name shall be..... The Corinthian.

The Corinthian:

Oh, to be a fly on the wall when Lucienne and Jessamy saw their lord's "masterpiece."

[underratedgrapeju1ce]

You mentioned Sonic and Rouge are technically Shadow’s caregivers and he needs supervision. You also mentioned he hates it, how does he cope later on ? Does it change their relationship with them ? How do they learn to go through it ?

warnings for suicidal ideation and mentions of throwing up/gagging, proceed with caution!

this got long.

Shadow has always been hard headed. Stubborn. Independent. Insistent that he can handle himself even when he's falling apart. That was how he lived his life: show no weakness, take care of yourself.

So when he was left blinded, unable to trust his own thoughts, and scrubbed raw from the inside out, his every memory exposed and no longer his own, he didn't exactly know how to cope.

Sonic would say he had it easier. Shadow disagreed. Though he knew what Black Doom had done to him was likely worse, Shadow was, depressingly, somewhat used to it.

The manipulation, being seen as both worthless and a perfect target for blame--- it was all second nature by now.

Subjectively, he tries to argue, Sonic losing his freedom is a more novel, and thus more terrifying occurrence. Omega tells him he's intellectualizing his feelings again. Shadow doesn't answer.

Rouge usually stays with him. They were close before, for their standards. Sometimes mission partners, roommates for their collective financial benefit, trusting enough that Shadow smiles around her when he can muster it. Sure, they weren't arm-in-arm, ruffling each other's fur and throwing get-togethers, but they felt connected. And that was enough for them.

Shadow missed that now.

Now, Rouge watched over him like a nurse rather than a companion. Sonic wasn't nocturnal, so she had "night shift" as they called it. It made Shadow nauseous with guilt, how exhausting his presence was now. He was forcing his closest companions to do the equivalent of care for an infant, and he voices it as such.

They assure him they do it because they cared. Sometimes Shadow screams that he knows they're here because they pity him. A few hours later he cries to them and begs them not to leave.

After that, he feels the sickening dread that he's let himself be seen vulnerable and weak. Sometimes he gets sick from it, and Sonic has to hold his quills back. The cycle begins anew.

Technically, Shadow doesn't need to sleep. He voices this repeatedly. Sure the insomnia makes his useless eyes throb and his head feel as if it's being drilled with an ice pick, grinding his skull to dust, but he prefers that over the possibility of dreams.

He does not want to relive the altar. He does not want to see his father wearing his own face and using it to torture the ones he loves. He does not want to remember the collective of the hive embracing his every thought.

Black Doom is dead. He knows this deep in his soul and in his bones and in his mind. He knows this, because the deep, humming buzz in the back of his head for his entire life---an oddity he never took note of---went quiet when he was blinded. His mind is silent. Shadow sobs, quietly so Rouge does not hear, so he doesn't have to explain how utterly lonely he feels in his own mind. The guilt makes him choke and cough and gag. The Ultimate Lifeform was meant to cure sickness.

Of course Shadow had considered killing himself. All of Gerald's creations had a kill switch, right? If he simply knew.

Logically, it made sense to him.

He attracted threats to the planet. He was prone to violence and impulsivity. His father's blood rotted in his veins. He was a weapon. He was dangerous. And now he was a burden on his companions lives.

He had explained this calmly and simply, as if proposing a craft project. Even without sight, he could see Sonic's horrified disbelief. It only made Shadow confused.

Shadow was stubborn. Independent. Cold. Now, he doesn't know what he is at all. Weak, burdensome. About as good as a broken gun. He does not know how much longer he can logically allow himself to go on living.

But in the fleeting moments his hatred of himself and his weakness and his contempt towards his friends dissipates, and he clings to Rouge and lets himself cry, allows himself to sob and tell the empty room that what happened to him wasn't fair, he was a child, he didn't deserve this---god, he didn't deserve this, none of them did---and when his sobs turn to shaky hiccups and he allows himself to be seen,

Shadow does not want to die.

His last final "fuck you" to his father.

Shadow will keep living.

[ellekhen]

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 71 - Where the Heart Lies

Chapter Summary: A dream crumbles.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 364K+ words; Chapters 71/?? (Master Post)

Excerpt below:

Church sits upright with a hoarse shout, only to feel a cool hand rest upon his forehead. 

“Ast—?” he begins, but the word is lost on his lips as he focuses instead upon his mother’s red eyes, studying him with concern from where she sits at his bedside. 

“Shhh,” she soothes him, gently urging him to rest back against his pillows. “It’s just a bad dream, my love.”

“Mum…” Church utters, too relieved to resist despite the anxiety still clawing within his brain. 

“You were making such a fuss,” Mother sighs, and as her hand encloses around Church’s he realizes that his hand is smaller — much smaller — than hers. 

“Mum,” Church repeats. It occurs to him that his voice is much higher than before. “When…? How… old am I?”

Mother tilts her head with a fond smile. “You’re nine years old, sweet boy. Or nine years and one week, as you keep telling the neighbors,” she adds in amusement.

Church fights back a tempest that has no right to be inside a child’s brain. He tries to remember…

“I ran away from home,” he whispers. 

“You did,” Mother nods heavily. “For nearly two days. Your father and I went mad with worry. We began to fear the worst.” She looks up at him, red eyes shining. “Thank the gods you came back home safe and sound. It sounded like you had quite the adventure.”

She hums sadly to herself. “You said you missed Tarrin’s Hearth. I can’t blame you — you had friends there, after all. So did we. But I promise you, love, we’ll see them again soon.”

Church’s head hurts as he tries to wring out anything he can remember…

“Tav never replied to my letters,” he recalls. 

“It’s his father,” Mother scowls. “I’m sorry, love. He never liked us. But I know that Tavi still loves you. Your father and I were talking about how you could send your letters to Mairead, and she could give them to Tavi, that way…”

“That sounds good,” Church nods eagerly, wondering why his eyes are filling with tears. His throat aches with them. “That sounds great, mum.” 

His mind… it’s barely coherent as he tries to pull information from its mess…

“Oh sweet boy,” Mother whispers, voice choked as well. “I know it’s been hard. It’s been so hard for you. I know you’ve felt lonely. I know you’ve felt lost. But don’t you see? You’re not alone. You never shall be alone so long as you keep your father and I in your hearts. Whether it’s Tarrin’s Hearth or Baldur’s Gate, our home is you, alright?”

She shifts onto the bed, scooping up her son into her arms. He curls up in her lap, listening to her heartbeat as he clings to her. 

“I’ve wanted this… for so long,” Church tells her. 

“You’ve always had this,” Mother coos down to him. “Stop fighting yourself. Let me help you. Let me love you the way you’ve always longed to be loved.”

“But it’s not real,” Church looks up at his mother, and her brow furrows in consternation. 

A confusing, scribbled-out face of a tiefling woman, sketched frantically upon the page of a sketchbook…

Church tries to memorize every detail of his mind’s creation, wishing that she was ever real. 

“You don’t have to wish anymore!” Mother squeezes him close, arms tightening so much that it’s hard to breathe. “This is real.”

The bedroom door opens and closes, and another presence sinks into the bed on Church’s other side.

“Look at us,” Father murmurs. “Isn’t this perfect? Aren’t we lucky?”

Church looks up into the bedroom’s standing mirror to see the three of them, curled up together upon what is allegedly his childhood bed in his childhood home. 

The mirror frames a trio of beautiful, proud tieflings — two pairs of bright yellow eyes and one red; three heads of black hair; two matching pairs of short ebony horns and one more coiled. Three tails encircled around each other, holding each other close along with their hands. 

The family Church has always wanted. 

The family he never had; not even at birth. 

It’s all a lie. 

A sweet lie, but a lie nonetheless. 

“If this were real, I’d walk mum to the market tomorrow morning,” Church whispers dazedly. “I’d wait until she was haggling for bread and then I’d slip away three stalls down. That’s where they sell flowers, and that’s where I’d buy her whatever I could get for five coppers…”

“Son…” Father tries to interrupt. 

“…then I’d come back before she even realized I was gone, hiding the flowers in my pack,” Church rambles on. “Mum would be just about to pay when I’d ask her if we could get a big raisin pastry as well. She’d sigh knowingly, but she would ask for one. Then she’d give me the bag to hold as we made our way to the temple…”

Mother remains silent until Church hesitates.

“And then what?” she asks softly, and for a moment she sounds just like another scared, lonely child. 

“…then we’d find dad there,” Church continues. “I’d give him the raisin pastry and he’d say…”

“…it’s my favorite,” Father whispers. 

“…and he’d insist on splitting it between us three. Then, when mum is distracted, I’d take the flowers out and give them to dad. He’d be confused, but then he’d know…”

“I forgot our anniversary,” Father mumbles sheepishly. “I take the flowers…”

“…and when mum returns…”

“I’d give them to her.”

“…and she’d look at you and say…”

Mother chimes in with a rueful laugh. “What’s the occasion?”

She joins in as Church collapses into tearful giggles against his mother’s chest, feeling his father’s arms envelop them both. Two pairs of heartbeats thrum on either side of him, and he feels safe. He feels loved. 

“I want you to feel this too,” Church tells the voice that has otherwise remained silent in his head. “You deserve to feel this too, you know?”

He reluctantly begins to pull away from his mother’s arms. 

“You should let me go now,” he says gently. 

NO.

His mother and father’s arms lock around him, wrestling him down between them until his world is once again swallowed up by darkness. 

ENOUGH. 

---------

Bonus Author's Note:

[nightingaelic]

Fallout 3 companions react to the Lone Wanderer getting in contact with the Followers of the Apocalypse and asking to join them. (Possibly resulting in the creation of a Capital Wasteland chapter of the Followers?)

With the Enclave in full retreat and the Brotherhood of Steel officially installed at the Jefferson Memorial and Adams Air Force Base, the kid from Vault 101 seemed to be adrift. They wandered from Megaton to Underworld, Canterbury Commons to Rivet City, helping those they met along the way as they always had but growing more and more despondent with each passing day. "It's just me out here," they would mutter to themselves occasionally, after particularly tough run-ins with raiders or wasteland vermin. "What am I supposed to do?"

That question didn't have an easy answer, or so they thought. Then, like a lighthouse cutting through fog, a summons on Galaxy News Radio brought them to Three Dog, who parked the Lone Wanderer in an office chair and jammed a set of headphones over their ears. The kid talked for days, tuned to different frequencies, scribbled notes on every piece of paper within reach, and their missing smile gradually returned. When they finally stood up and gathered their thoughts together, a new dream came from their lips like a sermon: "There's a group on the West Coast that heard about me. They're called the Followers of the Apocalypse, and they help people. They like what I've done so far, and they want me to start a chapter here in the Capital Wasteland. I want to do this."

Butch DeLoria: Butch stared at them, flabbergasted. "You... haven't we... what more do you think you owe to these people?"

The kid he used to bully sighed. "What do I owe to anybody, Butch? This isn't about settling a debt. I think it's pretty clear now that I can make changes around here, big changes, and this is just another opportunity to do that."

"But why?" Butch pulled out a comb and ran it through his hair, visibly anxious. "So you purified the water, ran those Enclave upstarts out of town. Leave it there. Kill anyone who tries to jump you on the road, and stop worrying about everyone else."

"I..." The Lone Wanderer clenched their fist, unclenched it. "I can't. If I can make things better for everyone, I have to."

"Well that's not what Tunnel Snakes are about," Butch replied angrily. He seized his traveling pack, shook out his leather jacket and headed for the radio station's door. "You change your mind, you can find me at the Muddy Rudder."

The door slammed behind him. Three Dog, who'd been eavesdropping from the next room, poked his head in. "Is your friend coming back?"

"Ugh." The Lone Wanderer sank into their chair again. "Give it an hour or two. He'll come around. Probably when he runs into the super mutants in Georgetown."

Charon: Charon nodded. "As you wish."

The Lone Wanderer pressed a hand to their forehead in exasperation. "Okay, I tried to phrase that as openly as I could so I could get your thoughts, but I realize now that I should've just said... Charon, what do you actually think about this idea?"

The ghoul shrugged. "I don't."

"Come on Charon, there has to be something-"

"Fine." Charon rolled his eyes. "It's more of the same. More time on the road, more time building up and securing settlements, more time spent fending off attacks from those who want your stuff. I'd say you're also more likely to die, but you've defied my expectations before."

"And..." the Lone Wander pressed. "Are you okay with that?"

Charon, who was still unused to this kid's attempts to include him in decision-making, glared at them. "I am."

They studied each other silently. The Lone Wanderer broke first. They always did. "I'm not going to order you to do this with me."

"You don't have to," Charon reassured them. Half-facetious, half-sincere. "That's not how this works."

Clover: Clover examined her nails, clearly not that interested. "So what's the angle, lover?"

"Clover..." the Lone Wanderer hesitated. "What if it's not an angle? What if we just... did this?"

Clover stuck her tongue out playfully. "Whatever, honey. You probably have some scam cooked up already. Lure them out here, take their stuff, feed them to a deathclaw... you're such a tease."

"Uh-huh." Her companion crossed their arms. "A real scam. Like that time I used a GECK to purify the DC basin. Or that time I led a giant robot to fight the Enclave and eventually took over their crawler. Or that time I rescued a bunch of slaves from Paradise Falls. Clover, we've been on the road together a while. You know I'm not like that."

"I know, I know..." Clover trailed off and looked away. "S'just that I need a good story to tell when you take me back to Eulogy. Otherwise..."

The Lone Wanderer dropped their headset and took her hand. "You're not going back there. Ever. You hear me? You don't belong to that motherfucker anymore. You don't belong to anyone."

Clover still couldn't meet their gaze, but her eyes filled up with tears. "Mmm-hmm. Sure, lover."

Star Paladin Cross: The Star Paladin smiled. "I've encountered the Followers. They bring a noble cause to the wasteland, even if they stretch themselves too thin."

"Well, the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood is stretched too thin right now." The chapter's newest Knight sank back against the desk they'd been tethered to for the better part of the last 48 hours. "Scribe Bigsley is tearing his hair out about water caravans, the Enclave still has holdouts in the area, and Elder Lyons..."

They trailed off and sighed. "We need help. I don't know if I can be a Follower and a Knight, but I know they're more open to working with me because of Elder Lyons' decision to break with the High Elders. We have the same mission: To help the people of the wasteland."

"Our missions are similar, but there are a few fundamental differences," Cross corrected them. "The Followers emphasize the sharing of knowledge and learning, while the Brotherhood seeks to protect it. That said, your assessment of the Elder's decision for our chapter is apt. Perhaps we have opened ourselves up to common ground, in our desertion of our primary mission."

"Right." The Lone Wanderer nodded. "We're deserters. Let's use it. I'll start making plans and a list of potential recruits. I'll start with Reilly's Rangers and the Temple of the Union and get some leads."

Dogmeat: The mutt that accompanied the Lone Wanderer wherever they went barked, excited by his owner's excitement. The noise drew Three Dog's attention from the other room.

"Kid, I'm trying to run a radio station here," he said, leaning on the door frame with a mug of steaming tea in his hand. "Don't get your little buddy too riled up. Fight the good fight and all that, but do it outside."

"Sorry, Three Dog." The Lone Wanderer dropped to their knee and scratched the mutt's back and neck. "Just thinking out loud."

"You take their deal?" the DJ asked, before taking a sip from the mug.

The kid grinned. "You bet your ass I did."

Fawkes: The super mutant that had shadowed the kid since Vault 87 nodded sagely. "These Followers. Would there be room within their organization for an individual such as myself?"

The Lone Wanderer shrugged. "I didn't ask. The woman on the radio made a point of saying they were okay with ghouls, but she didn't say anything about mutants in general. I've heard that the mutants out west are more like you though, so probably?"

"Then I would like to be the first to sign up for your new chapter," Fawkes replied.

"Okay." The kid from Vault 101 grinned. "Great. Even if they aren't good with mutants, it's my chapter, and I say it's okay. It's not like they're going to be peering over my shoulder."

"And what do you intend to christen your first project?" Fawkes asked.

"Hmmm." The Lone Wanderer scratched their head. "Well, after recruitment and finding a base of operations, I think we should help stabilize the water caravan system. From there we can move on to tackling the slave trade."

Fawkes chuckled. "'From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.' Then let us begin."

Jericho: The retired raider, who had been taking a nap in one of the office chairs, snapped awake with a snort and grabbed his assault rifle. "Who-whatsit?"

"Chop-chop." The Lone Wanderer tossed him his pack and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "We're going to shake up the Capital Wasteland hierarchy a bit."

"Well, that sounds like something worth getting up for," Jericho replied, somewhat more agreeable. "Where are we going?"

"Seward Square," they answered, throwing their own pack over their shoulder. "I know a crew over there that might be interested in helping."

"Reilly's gang?" Jericho stopped them. "Wait a minute. This isn't more of your usual goody two-shoes shit, is it? I told you, I was done after the business with the Enclave. Can't we just roll into a settlement and take their chems like the good old days?"

"Thought you were awake, Jericho." The Lone Wanderer smacked him on the cheek a couple of times. "You want to sit on top of the Capital Wasteland, you have to make yourself indispensable. Capisce?"

"Oh, fuck you," Jericho grumbled. "Should've kicked you off my steps back in Megaton, kid."

Sergeant RL-3: "Sir, yes sir!" the Mister Gutsy agreed. "Anything for our good old Uncle Sam!"

"Right then, soldier," the Lone Wanderer replied at the same level of enthusiasm. "Pack our gear and have this place spotless, on the double!"

"All recruits will be responsible for their own bunks!" Sergeant RL-3 shot back, before moving to retrieve the traveling packs from where they'd been stashed away.

Three Dog, who was watching from the door, shook his head with a grin. "I need to get me one of those models."

"Well, I know a guy out by Tenpenny Tower that might have a bot with your name on it," the Lone Wanderer offered. "Or at least the parts to build one."

"No time to dilly-dally, sir!" Sergeant RL-3 commented from across the room.

[sope-and-shine]

When World’s Collide: Pt. 2

-> Pairing: Moon God!Taehyung x Fate!Reader ->  SFW // fluff, angst, humor // enemies to lovers!au, soulmate!au -> Word Count: 20.1k -> Summary: Taehyung has spent most of his life ignored by his peers and alone on his barren planet. So when a lonely King reaches out to him in hopes to bring his love to him, how could he ignore his plea? However, it’s not good to mess with Fate, and it’s even worse to make the same mistake twice. -> Warnings: mild language, the reader is a bad bitch, minor character death, minor innuendos, crying children, Tae gets into multiple fights

a/n: Part 2 is finally done! I wanted everything for part 2 to be perfect before I posted it! We only have one more part to go and then this series will be complete!! I really hope you enjoy!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Masterlist

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When you left the previous night, you didn’t want to think about what could have happened between Taehyung’s projects. For the past 72 hours, you’ve seen at least 49 different ways last night could have gone, and each one was worse than the last. You refused to acknowledge any tugs you felt all night and right now the only thing you want to do is make sure nothing was damaged beyond repair.

Hoseok sits on the chair behind the security desk, eating a breakfast sandwich despite not actually needing sustenance the way the humans do. He insists it’s only to keep up his human appearance, but you both know it’s because he’s become obsessed with the taste and the sensation. You try not to roll your eyes when you think about how many he’d shoved into the fridge at his - and Yoongi’s - apartment. 

“Don’t you think we would have heard about something by now?” He asks, “Besides, can’t you just look at your hands?”

You sigh, “I’d rather look at the events and see which path they chose. I’ll worry about everything else later.”

Of course you could just look at your hands, but being able to see the vision clearly can sometimes be far too overwhelming even for you. Just the tugs on your fingers are enough to make you itch constantly. You’ve even gone as far as to buy ‘fidget toys’ - as the humans call them - to distract humans from the constant twitching you’ve become so used to. Though you have to admit that the toys themselves give you a brief moment of relief.

With his mouth full, Hoseok side-eyes you, “Sometimes it worries me just how much you know.”

“Show me the tape.”

Hoseok shrugs and turns to the monitors in front of him. He logs into the system and clicks around, finding the footage from the night before and following every camera Eunha goes through. He rewinds the tape back to a bit after everyone left for the night. It shows Eunha making her rounds and walking to the king’s exhibit. Both of the deities watch as she shines her light through the gate and walks away. As they speed through the footage, it looks like no interaction happened the previous night at all.

Hoseok pauses the footage after Eunha returns to the security room and turns to you, who's just as confused as he is, “That looks like nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing.” You can feel it. You’ve practically already seen it. There is no way the two didn’t meet last night, “Show me his cameras.” 

Hoseok does as he’s asked. He finds the set of 4 cameras hidden in the exhibit room and clicks on the widest angle. This camera shows Eunha entering the exhibit and taking a look around, but nothing more. It isn’t until she passes the necklace case that you see the glittering jewels shine within the glass. “There.”

“The spell...” Hoseok’s peaceful demeanor diminishes and an unusual scowl covers his features, “Did he even try to break it?”

You nod, “Even if he didn’t, I did.” You weren’t stupid enough to believe that Taehyung would actually try to get rid of his creation. You’ve been far beyond giving him the benefit of the doubt for quite some time now. However, actually destroying the necklace he designed proved to be much harder than a simple conversation with the Moon God himself. 

“We’ll just have to stay on top of them.” You stand up from the chair you’d brought over to the desk and stand, raising your arms up high to stretch before you leave.

Hoseok picks up his office phone and hovers his finger over the keypad, “Should I page Taehyung?”

You wave the security guard off, “No. I’ll find him later. Just let me worry about this.” 

You leave Hoseok to get back to work and leave for your own office. Not only do you have your regular responsibilities as a deity to attend to, but your human ones as well. Hours spent at your desk not only speaking to employees as needed, but also looking at your strings and following tugs against them. Most tugs come from your own friends and their daily interactions with museum patrons. You try to ignore them, but it’s hard to just let them interact with mortals when you know how bad the outcomes could be.

Taehyung is your prime example of just how true that can be.

You find the blonde in the children’s exhibit he took over curating, helping the youngest of museum patrons to interact with the activities around them. He’s tucked himself between two young children in front of a LEGO station. He tries to help them recreate the dragon behind the glass, but the children are much more creative then the blueprint laid in front of them. 

You approach the group from behind as the young boy on Taehyung’s left turns to him with a smile, “Do you like my dog, Mr. Kim?” He shows him a combination of green and blue blocks, resembling a table more so than a dog but Taehyung still gasps dramatically.

“It’s amazing!” He clasps his hands together in celebration, but you’re still stuck on the child’s inability to realize that the object they’ve created is not a dog. 

“That’s a table.” 

You watch as Taehyung and the boy turn to you, one confused and the other seeming slightly irritated. With big brown eyes, the young boy pouts, “No, it’s a dog!”

“It doesn’t have a head.” 

“Yes it does.” Taehyung interjects, “The head is right here. Isn’t that right, Beomgyu?” He points to the singular blue block that holds the top pieces together, not even close to resembling what he and the boy claim it to be. Even when the boy nods, you’re still left unconvinced. 

You bend down to be on their level with furrowed brows, “It doesn’t even have a tail.”

“It doesn’t need a tail!”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“It’s not a dog if it doesn’t have a tail.”

“You’re wrong!” At this point, little bubbles of tears are welling in the young boy's eyes. His feelings are hurt, but you’re none the wiser to his discomfort. You’re taken by complete surprise when he stands up and throws his creation back onto the table, “Mom!”

“No, Beomgyu, it’s-” Taehyung tries to reassure him that his creation is perfect just the way it is, but he stops trying as the little boy runs to the next room in disheartened tears, “-okay…”

You’re left ignorant to the scene you created, instead grabbing the pieces the young human boy threw down and putting them back with the pile at the center of the table. You settle onto your knees in front of the work bench to help clear it off for the next children, “Having a good day?” You ask the blonde beside you.

His shoulders fall, utterly defeated, “I was.” He sounds hostile, and you’re left oblivious as to why. To you, the small child is nothing. But to Taehyung, Beomgyu is a sweet, creative little boy with so much potential. And you...you just potentially crushed his dreams. The amount of anger Taehyung is starting to harbor for you is beginning to overshadow his fear, “What can I do for you today, Madame Director?”

There’s malice in his tone, but you don’t register it, “I want to know about last night. Hoseok and Yoongi said you had her touch the necklace.”

“I did.”

“And did you stay to watch?” 

As much as Taehyung wanted to stay and watch the long awaited meeting unfold in front of his own eyes, he couldn’t risk messing up again. The last time he interfered, he only made everything worse. When an opportunity came for him to intervene, he was too late. He didn’t understand, and that lack of understanding is what brought him - and everyone else - where they are now. He’d never admit it out loud, and especially not in front of you.

The lack of response from the god beside you is the only answer you need, “So you don’t know either.”

“I wanted them to meet on their own,” He says, not lying but not telling the whole truth, “I was just going to see her in a bit and check in about last night. Did you know she’s been working constantly without a day off since Chanyeol left?”

“Hoseok might have mentioned that. But considering this whole situation is your mess-” Taehyung rolls his eyes,“-checking in sounds like a great idea! I want you to talk to her and update me.” The blonde is quick to turn his head, fearing he’s heard you wrong, but you only stare back at him expectantly. “Agreed?”

“Yeah! I can do that.” To say the god is surprised would be an understatement. From day one of him orchestrating this whole charade, you haven’t wanted any part of it. You haven’t wanted to put up with him. You specifically told him that this was between himself, Hoseok, and Yoongi and that you wanted no part of it. Your sudden involvement has Taehyung beaming with curiosity, “Any reason for the new interest?”

You frown and throw the conjoined lego pieces in his direction, hitting his shoulder and falling behind him. He flinches back, his hands pulling close to his chest before reaching up and over his left shoulder to try and catch the miniature building blocks. You try to hide a smirk, “Don’t read into this, Taehyung. This is my job.”

Taehyung retrieves the pieces you threw at him, “Mhm, sure! Sure…”

“I’m serious, Taehyung. I know a lot more than you do.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to remind me...” Taehyung mumbles.

They way he says it is just as condescending as he usually is when you bring up your job. It seems no matter how many times you try to explain to him what your job entails, it goes in one ear and right out of the other. He never actually listens to you, he just continues to think whatever he’d like.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t act like this to be mean.”

“Then why act like this at all?” He asks.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Of course I would!”

You scoff, “Considering you don’t understand it yet, I sincerely doubt you would even comprehend what I’m talking about if I were to tell you.”

And there you go again, telling Taehyung how unintelligent he is just so you can be right. It’s never an off switch with you. Always a vague explanation and a promise that he’ll understand, but he never does. “Oh yeah, it must be so hard looking at your fingers all day.”

And just like that, the both of you have gone back to square one.

You set down what you were picking up and stand. Without so much as a frown you say, “Do what I asked and I won’t make Hoseok follow you around.” And walk away from the activity table, leaving Taehyung just as displeased with your attitude as you are with his.

To Taehyung, you have no right to be angry with him - you have a few rights to be angry with him. Sure, he’s made some mistakes here and there, but there’s no reason to continue to hold it against him! He’s learning. Everyone learns. It’s completely unfair that he should have to face relentless reminders of such a simple fact.

Nevertheless, he does as you’ve asked. He had intended to watch for Eunha to arrive anyway. He wanted to know what had happened the night before just as everyone else did, but he knew he had to wait and be subtle.

When she finally arrives, she looks a bit out of it. She makes a detour around Seokjin when she would normally greet him. Her hair isn’t as neat as she usually keeps it and the bags haphazardly thrown onto her shoulder show she’s in a bit of distress. Her walking is much faster than her normal pace, and Taehyung hopes that’s not a bad sign.

He decides to wait for her upstairs in the king’s exhibit, taking a seat on his favorite bench in the museum. It’s always a nice place to sit and have a rest throughout the day, it let’s him think back to old times when his plan was much simpler. A time where his friend didn’t spend all hours of the day inside of a dusty box waiting for his soulmate to return to him. 

It’s moments like this that Taehyung can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he’d left Namjoon alone. If he had just ignored the King’s prayer for help, would he have still fallen ill? Were they destined to meet the same way even if he hadn’t interfered? Would Namjoon and Eunha have been able to meet in this life as well if it hadn’t been for his insistence to give the King a companion? Even worse, what if you’re right?

You told him that if he meddles too much that their strings could knot and burn. If that happens, then everything he’s worked for goes down the drain. Eunha and Namjoon will never get their happy ending and it will all be his fault. If only Yoongi would just make everything easier.

“Damn it!” Taehyung curses, more to himself than anything. He’s working himself up and that won’t do him any good. In moments like this, he takes a page from Namjoon’s book and does something to calm himself. He pulls a small sketch pad out of his bag and throws a leg over his knee, focusing all of his worries and anxieties onto the piece of paper in front of him. Namjoon always wrote in his journals when he was worried about something, but Taehyung has never been great with words. Instead, he draws doodles of patrons and co-workers, even sketches of flowers to ease his ramped mind.

Taehyung hears the clicks of her shoes before he sees her, “Having fun there?”

He wants to lift his head and tell her he’s really worried beyond belief, that he’s the reason she looks so tired. But revealing himself now would ruin everything, so for now he remains a friend in the background.

---

His talk with Eunha went about as well as he expected. She was definitely lying so she wouldn’t worry him - or sound absolutely insane to any normal human. But he could tell just how freaked out she was, and if she wasn’t accepting Namjoon now, then there’s a good chance his plan just took a turn for the worst. He’ll just keep that bit to himself, though. What you don’t know, won’t hurt him.

Hopefully.

He saves himself the hassle of having to unlock and re-lock your door in favor of just appearing inside; however, he didn’t expect to see you sitting at your desk eating a bag of chips. Your one leg is tucked under you while your foot rests on the cushion of your chair. You’re staring at your computer with great interest, so you must be reading something.

You cast a quick glance at your sudden intruder and sigh, but continue your reading, “I did leave the door unlocked.”

Taehyung checks to see if you’re lying, and he’s completely shocked to find you telling the truth, “Why didn’t you lock it? She could come in here!”

“This isn’t an area patrons can enter. Besides, she won’t come here.” You place both legs on the ground and lean over your work to pat your desk, “Have a seat.”

Taehyung is more than hesitant to join you, but he does take a seat. He studies the contents of your desk and finds not one, but two empty chip bags, “Shrimp chips?”

You shrug, “Hoseok. He’s been going overboard with the human food and leaving me gifts every morning. Of all the things he’s left, this one is the most satisfying.”

Taehyung cracks an amused smile, “You’d think Yoongi would want comfort food more than Hoseok.”

“Comfort food?” You ask. You haven’t heard that term before.

“Yeah. That’s what humans would consider chips.” Taehyung explains, “They call them snacks too! They’re things you can enjoy when you get hungry or you just really want to eat something.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Far from it actually.” You give Taehyung a quizzical look and he shrugs, “I don’t understand it yet either. Humans are very confusing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So what are you doing here? I figured you’d be as far away from the museum as possible.” Taehyung asks, eyeing the high pile of papers that decorate the top of your desk.

You shrug, “I’d rather take care of all the human work I’m supposed to do so I can do my real job when it comes up.”

The blonde leans back in his chair, “And this has nothing to do with Eunha and Namjoon?”

“Oh, it has everything to do with them.” You assure him. You take a moment to sit back and look at what you’ve done so far and let out a heavy sigh, “I can’t sit still knowing that they’re both here alive and-...Well-...together.”

Your eyes stray to your hands and Taehyung takes notice of the blank look that takes over, “What are you so afraid of?”

You close your eyes, shake your head, and smile, “Fear has nothing to do with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” 

With that you get back to work, hoping to finish your human duties before the morning so you can spend your day doing your real job. Taehyung remains in front of you, silently watching you work away after brushing him off so easily once again. He doesn’t take any offense to it anymore - though it does annoy him to no end - at this point it’s like your own way of communicating. 

However, Taehyung is focused on one thing and one thing only after a long day of stress and hard work.

“Could I have a chip?”

---

It’s been about a week and a half since Taehyung managed to bring Namjoon and Eunha together and despite how optimistic it had seemed, he’s now beginning to realize just how flawed this plan really is.

“She’s not even willing to give him a chance!” The blonde complains, picking at the chicken on his plate instead of eating it.

Jimin - who sits across from him eating his own food - shrugs, “He did scare the living shit out of her.” 

“I can confirm that her soul left her body for a solid 7 seconds when they first met.” Hoseok pipes up, his mouth still full with food. 

“Why don’t you just go back to fanboying?” Jeongguk asks, taking a sip of his soda, “Wasn’t that working?” 

“Not anymore.” Taehyung sighs. He’d been talking non-stop about the dead king since he first landed his job. He’s done nothing but keep up appearances since then in hopes of intriguing Eunha into liking Namjoon just as much as he does, but hopes seem to be quickly going down the drain, “What if (Y/n) is right and this is all just going to bite me in the ass again?”

Hoseok laughs, “I could have told you that.”

The three lower tier gods turn to Death, but only Jimin is bold enough to question him while he gorges himself on human pleasantries, “Why are you here again?”

Hoseok’s ears surprisingly turn red in embarrassment and he swallows the food in his mouth, “You guys said you were getting food here…Ms. Oh gives me extra kimchi when I come here.”

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle, “You really do think with your stomach.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow, “Who told you that?”

“(Y/n).”

Jimin stops eating, “You two have been hanging out?”

The blonde shrugs, “She just wants updates on Namjoon and Eunha and the choices they make. She obviously can’t be bothered to do it herself. It’s not like it isn’t her job.”

Jimin scoffs and Hoseok chews away quietly at his food, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem too convinced with Taehyung’s assumption, “Maybe she’s just trying to make conversation the only way she knows how.” 

“She couldn’t ask about my day instead?”

“You give (Y/n) way too much credit.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, “A guy in my philosophy class acts the same way! He’s really bad at making conversation, so he starts talking about class related stuff to drive himself.”

Taehyung thinks back to their most recent meeting where Fate had asked him about Namjoon and if he’d been causing problems. He remembers how the conversation started, but how it digressed into complaining about Yoongi and Jeongguk he’d never know.

“Still-” Taehyung refuses to falter, “-I do a lot with my day.”

“Taehyung. I hate to break this to you, but knowing what happens to Namjoon and Eunha is what you do with your day.” Jimin points out. Taehyung flings a piece of his chicken in the blonde’s direction, and he blocks with the back of his hand before it can hit and ruin his work shirt. He sends Taehyung a glare and cleans his hand with a napkin, “But I do agree, she could try a bit harder if she’s trying to have a real conversation.”

“You guys really don’t get her, do you?” Hoseok asks.

“Of course we do! She’s Fate.” Jimin says, “She holds the strings of the future in her palms and it’s up to her to keep the universe balanced and blah blah blah.”

Hoseok sighs at Jimin’s mockery, “There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with holding the universe in your hands.” 

“Yeah, that’s why Hui sits with the others while the rest of us do work.” Jimin scoffs.

Hoseok bites the inside of his cheek, “He has more responsibilities than you. You messed that up on your own.”

Jimin shrugs and takes a sip of his water, “Not everyone wishes to be walked all over.”

Hoseok almost looks offended, “You think we walk over you?”

“What else should I call it? Aggressive advice?” Jimin leans forward like he’s challenging Hoseok. The air surrounding the table goes cold as Hoseok slowly sets his chopsticks on the table with a firm grip. It’s obvious he’s trying to hide his anger. 

“Listen-” 

“Hoseok~!” The god’s anger disappears completely at the mention of his name. From behind him, sweet Ms. Oh comes right up to him with a small package of extra kimchi. She places a hand on his shoulder and presents the to-go container to him, “I put in a little extra kimchi in there for you.”

Hoseok accepts her offer graciously with both hands, “Thank you, ma’am. I promise to eat it all!” Ms. Oh pinches his cheek and turns to return to her kitchen. Hoseok waits until she’s completely out of ear shot before he lets his frustrated frown return, “Just think about it this way: Maybe it’s not just humans she doesn’t understand.” 

Taehyung can’t help but look down to his plate, ‘Had he been too quick to judge Fate because of their own history together?’

Hoseok piles his finished dishes on top of each other and stands from the table, “I’ll see you after your lunch.”

Jimin glares after Hoseok until he leaves, “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t understand much,” He scoffs. He looks at his own plate and wills it all to go away, leaving only the mess so he doesn’t hurt Ms. Oh’s feelings. Leaning back in his chair he sighs, “Maybe I can try talking to Eunha again. What do you think?”

Earth looks to the Moon, but he’s somewhere else in his own space in the universe. He can’t help but rethink his most recent interruptions with Fate again and wonder if her stubbornness - as well as his own - is what’s kept them from seeing eye to eye. If he wants to help Namjoon and Eunha then he’ll have to get Fate’s approval. But how?

 *

*

*

Taehyung looks at the guard schedule you handed him, studying the 4 blank days beside Eunha’s name. He looks up to you - still awkwardly typing away on your computer, “Days off?” 

You nod, “Yes, Hoseok thinks it’ll be good for her.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

You stop typing, your fingers curling in as you think about what to say, “I think it’ll help her figure things out for herself.” If you were a human and had everything pushed onto you the same way, you’d probably feel as overwhelmed as she looks. Even a few weeks into this whole charade and she still seems too in over her head, “Everything is still very new for her, and the stress might eat her away if she doesn’t get some kind of break.”

Taehyung laughs in disbelief, “When did you become efficient with humans?”

You choose to ignore the blonde and return to your typing, “Efficient? Wow, that’s a big word. I’m impressed.”

“Mocking me doesn’t answer my question.” Taehyung points out, sitting back in his chair and resting one leg over the other.

“Doesn’t it?” You ask, raising a brow in his direction. You shrug your shoulders and look back at your screen, “I’ll have you know that I’ve always been efficient with humans.”

“Really?” He scoffs, “Is that why you told that one lady her love line was doomed if she didn’t stop sleeping around?”

“I had to warn her.”

“She ran out of the bathroom crying.”

“The truth hurts.”

“She hit Seokjin with her purse.”

“And I bought Seokjin a coffee and a donut in return.” 

“You know that’s not how you’re supposed to deal with that situation, right?”

You smile, unaffected by your actions, “I’ll consider it a learning experience then.”

“Do you even know what you should do in that situation?” He asks.

That has you pausing. Of course, in an ideal situation you wouldn’t be involved at all. But you’re not acting as a god anymore, you’re parading around as a human. And while you’re confident you know more than Taehyung about humans and their society, you can’t help but wonder if you’re more out of touch than you thought. 

Taehyung sits up and moves so he can rest his arms against your desk with his chin resting on his forearms, “Are you sure you really know humans?”

The last time you had been on Earth to associate yourself with the humans was almost 7 years ago, and it was only to warn Taehyung about his own future. You’d only bumped into a few humans on the street, and you didn’t even have to speak to anyone at all. Your knowledge of humans in the last 100 years - at least - has been almost entirely reduced to nothing. 

You know for a fact that Taehyung was taught about humans by Jimin himself after the blonde’s first run on the troublemakers planet. It leaves you wondering just what Taehyung has learned and if he’s capable of making better decisions than before.

You turn to the curator and mirror his position, leaning on your desk, “What would you have done?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to apologize to Seokjin or the lady because I wouldn’t have said anything.”

You laugh, “Well, yeah. Your lady days are behind you.”

“Once again, mocking me won’t make me wrong.” Taehyung says, tapping you on the nose with a smug grin.

You wrinkle your nose but make no effort to move and show no sign of disgust, “Are you sure?”

Taehyung finds himself staring at you longer than he normally does. You're obviously unimpressed with him, but you still seem happy. It’s like when he talks about Namjoon to Eunha and she pretends she’s not annoyed out of her mind. He thinks back to the other day with Hoseok at Ms. Oh’s and he can’t help but wonder if he could change your mind .

“Why don’t we make a deal?” He asks.

You barely gave him a chance to finish his sentence, “No.” You sit up and return to your working position.

“Come on-”

You hold up a finger to silence him, “We’re in the process of one of your deals, and I don’t like your track record.”

“Just humor me.” He pleads.

You close your eyes in annoyance, “Speak.”

“Eunha gets 4 days off. We don’t have to keep an eye on her or Namjoon. Let’s go out and really experience the human world together.” He pushes your stacks of paperwork aside, “Let me show you what humans are really like.” 

“And…?” You ask, knowing he has more up his sleeve than just showing you the humans of today.

“If I prove to you that humans are more than just random strings that come and go, then you have to really help me with Eunha and Namjoon. If they’re not, then I’ll convince them to destroy the necklace on their own.” Taehyung knows he’s risking everything just to prove a point, but he’s confident that if he plays his cards right then he can get you to at least see things from his point of view, “They’re more than you give them credit for, and I think you would change your mind if you saw them in a different light than that of a god.”

“If you’re so confident you can change my mind that you’d give up after 1,000 years, then who am I to deny?” Your response has Taehyung jumping from his seat in glee, almost stumbling over the chair he was sitting in from moving too fast. You hold back a chuckle as he tries to put everything back where it belongs, “I’ll approve your time off for tomorrow.”

“You won’t regret it.” He assures you.

“I’m sure I won’t.” Despite his annoying persistence and his inability to comprehend the simplest of explanations, you can’t deny that he does try his best with everything.

Taehyung is just happy that you actually agreed. He was sure that you’d turn him down and he’d go home to figure out another way to sneak around you, but this will be perfect! All he has to do is win you over. Which may be a bit daunting now, but he’s sure he’ll get over it. 

He’s about to leave when you call out to him, “Taehyung-!” 

He turns and you smile, “Make sure it’s something really special if you’re going to get me to agree.”

“Trust me, it will be.”

—

“You’re an idiot.”

Not the words Taehyung expected to hear after he told Jimin and Jeongguk about his new plan. He figured they’d have some distaste for his plan, but this was a bit much.

“Come on, Jimin. Do you really have that little faith in me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yes.” The blonde walks away from the living room to go to the kitchen.

“He’s made it pretty obvious.”

Taehyung turns to the youngest deity with a frown and points a finger at him, “You have no room to talk.” 

The two follow Jimin to the kitchen where the eldest of the three makes himself a glass of water at the fridge over his usual glass of champagne. When he turns and sees Taehyung again, he heaves a heavy sigh and sets the glass on the island in between them, “If you think you’re going to convince Fate that humans are something special then you have another thing coming to you, Taehyung! (Y/n) has never valued humans and she never will.”

“Like you have? She took them from you for a reason, didn’t she?” Jimin narrows his eyes at Taehyung and the Moon continues on, “Maybe she just forgot how that feels.”

“Or she won’t and this will ruin everything we’ve worked for. Did you think about that?” He asks.

“Of course I did! But I know that won’t happen.” Taehyung leans on the counter and makes himself eye-level with his friend, “You have to trust me.”

“You better not blow this.” Jimin picks up his glass and walks out.

“I won’t!” Taehyung calls after him, but the Earth has already left his orbit.

*

*

*

If someone were to look up the definition of worry and anxiety in a dictionary, they’d find a picture of Taehyung. Asking Fate to make a deal with him had seemed like a great idea when he first thought of it, but now as the blonde stands at the bus stop waiting for her to arrive he’s starting to have second thoughts. As much as he hates to admit it, your track record for being correct is far more superior to his. The chances of him changing your mind are about as high as Yoongi smiling at him without being forced to.

“Taehyung?” You ask, pulling the god out of his thoughts. You’re sitting right next to him and he didn’t even notice you arrived. For once, you look worried, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, the bus should be here soon.” Taehyug assures you with the best false confidence he can muster. If today is going to go well, then he needs to leave every worry on this bus bench and focus all of his energy on you and what would make you more likely to finally see from his point of view.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Not yet. Our outing for today will remain a surprise until we get there. Unless you’ve already looked ahead?”

He’s teasing you and you know it, “I’ve kept my hands to myself, thank you.” You assure him with a light nudge to his side, trying to ignore the amused smile that paints his features.

He nudges you back, “Good. Keep it that way.”

The bus arrives a few moments later, it’s door stopping in front of Taehyung. The both of you get up and approach the doors, waiting off to the side for previous passengers to exit. You’re about to walk around Taehyung when the last one exits, but his arm flies in front of your chest and stops you in your tracks. You have half a mind to snap at the blonde, but your anger disappears when you see why he stopped you.

“Here let me help you.” Taehyung steps forward to grab the front end of a child’s stroller, gently lifting it and helping the mother carefully steps down herself with a little girl right behind her. Taehyung sets the stroller’s wheels on the ground and turns to the little girl with a bow on the top of her head and her hair poking out like a sprout and offers her a gentle hand with a wide smile, “Here you go, baby. Watch your step.”

The young girl takes his hand and jumps off the last step, just barely reaching the sidewalk with a little help from Taehyung. Her mother cheers for her and reaches out a hand for her to come back by her side. With a quick bow she thanks Taehyung and they continue on their way. You can’t help but watch the little girl bounce after her mother, her little feet almost dancing as she toddles on. No doubt Taehyung had just made that mother’s day easier and her child’s day happier. 

“Ladies first.” Taehyung motions for you to board in front of him and you climb the steps, scanning your bus pass, and walking to the first available seats close to the back. You slide into the window seat and pull your bag into your lap, Taehyung settling into the seat beside you

The bus starts moving and the two of you are locked into a peaceful silence. Well, as peaceful as it can be for Taehyung. He told himself to leave his worries behind, but he’s still sitting next to you with every worry resting on his shoulders. 

You’re more than happy not worrying about the humans around you or the mischievous god to your left. It’s a nice change of pace from the museum, especially with the view of the city right outside of your window. Leisure trips aren’t something you’re often used to. Unless someone needs you or you’re required to intervene, you really don’t go anywhere. It’s almost pleasant, but it’s hard to forget the company you keep when his legs won’t stay still.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Huh?”

“Are. You. O-K?” You repeat slowly, “Your leg is shaking like crazy.”

“I’m just excited for our destination, that's all.” He assures you.

You nod, deciding to let it go for now. You’d find out soon enough.

The bus comes to a stop in front of a large, colorful building no Taehyung shoots up, “This is our stop!” He races from his seat down the aisle and you stand up and follow after him. You exit a few people after him and find the blonde staring at the large building in front of you. Dozens of children run freely, their parents rushing after them as teens and young couples parade around hand in hand. 

You come to a stop beside Taehyung and give his arm a playful nudge, “Don’t tell me you were excited just to look at a building?”

He shakes his head, “I think you’re really going to enjoy yourself today.”

Without even thinking about it, Taehyung takes your hand and drags you behind him. All the way to the front doors of the building where a small line of people wait. He doesn’t miss a second and pulls out his phone, moving his head close to yours and smiling at his screen. His phone goes dark for a split second before he pulls it back to his chest. He moves on like what he did was nothing, but you’re left confused.

“What was that?” You ask.

Taehyung stops scrolling through his phone, long enough to raise an eyebrow at you. “You aren’t serious.” When you nod his eyes go even wider, “You work at a museum and you don’t know what a picture is?!”

“It’s a painting.”

“That’s a portrait.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes. There is, and I’m going to take millions and millions of pictures to prove it!” To make his point, he pulls the hand holding yours away to throw it over your shoulder. He taps relentlessly at his screen, occasionally switching up the angle. You try to throw a hand in front of your face to block his new attack, but he’s quick to adjust his camera to continue his harmless assault. “Why are you hiding? I’m trying to teach you what a real picture is.”

“Taehyung!” You try to push away, but the blonde has a tight grip on you.

“Take pictures with me!” He whines, trying to inch his face even closer to yours.

You can hear the humans snickering around you, but your companion doesn’t seem to care at all. He has no problem keeping you caged against him while he “takes real pictures” in a weak attempt to persuade you. He doesn’t give up in the line or on the escalator going down until you get closer to the front and he has to let you go.

“Have you purchased your tickets already?” The kind woman asks as you attempt to fix your hair from Taehyung’s attack.

Taehyung slaps his thighs with both hands before shoving them inside his far pocket and pulling out folded papers. He hands them to her, “Here you are.”

She unfolds them and takes a quick look over the words on each page, pulling a scanner similar to the ones at the museum to check them both in before handing them back with a smile, “Enjoy your time today.”

“Thank you. We will!”

The both of you move on, walking to the second set of doors beyond the ticket line and walking through to see just how big the building really is. The outside doesn’t do justice to the humans who designed something so beautiful. The entrance gives a great view of the entire park, showing off several buildings and attractions, as well the flora and special decorations placed to appease the humans that visit. Everything is so well cared for, and the glass roof just makes everything look so bright and inviting.

“Do you see anything you’d like to do first?” Taehyung asks.

You’ve heard plenty about amusement parks. Many human’s string’s will entangle themselves in gears and doors, tied to trivial things like rides and children’s games. Their opinions all seem to differ with most of them split in half on how they truly feel about the park.

You shrug, “Why don’t you choose?”

You should not have let Taehyung choose. Especially not what the humans call a rollercoaster. What insane, psychopath designed a high speed death trap that turns you on your side and flips you upside down in a metal cage?! Only one deity is sadistic enough to test the limits of Life and Death like this, and you’re positive Yoongi had something to do with the creation of such a monstrosity. At one point, you were sure Taehyung was going to lose his hands!

Not every ride was as terrible. The pirate ship had seemed gentle enough at first, but then it kept going higher and higher and you started to feel yourself slipping out of your seat. You even wrapped your arm around Taehyungs to ensure you didn’t go flying over the metal bar they’d placed against your lap.

Every ride the two of you climbed onto felt like one death trap after another. There was no way Yoongi himself didn’t come down and design each and every inhumane attraction himself just to create some form of chaos. Anyone who actually enjoyed a near death experience needs to sign themselves up for human therapy.

After your last brush with Death, you sat yourself down on a bench to catch your breath and maybe your sanity as well. 

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks.

“What?”

“Are. You. O-K?” He teases, “You’re looking a little pale for someone that isn’t capable of getting sick.”

“Well, my complexion is all thanks to you and your death traps!” You remind him. You feel like your stomach is in your throat and you don’t even have a stomach! “How could humans actually enjoy these things?”

The blonde shrugs, “You’re just not a thrill chaser. Humans like a rush.”

You look at him astonished and bewildered, “Do they forget they’re mortal?! They could die!”

“That’s the fun of it!”

You groan and lean into the back of your bench, “Oh, you really have lost it.” 

Taehyung can’t help but laugh at your misery. This is the first time he’s seen you so out of your element, and it’s almost refreshing. But he reminds himself that you’re supposed to be having fun. “C’mon, we went on some nice rides.”

“Oh, yes! The children’s rides! Those were much safer.” Taehyung laughs again and you give him a quick glare to shut him up, “Why can’t the humans just enjoy simple things?”

“Because YOLO.”

“Bless you.”

“No, it’s a saying. It means ‘you only live once’,” Taehyung explains, “There are quite a few humans that live by that.”

“They would risk the one life they have for a phrase?”

“They would risk it for a chance to have fun and feel alive.” He says, rephrasing the words in a way you could understand, “Most humans have to work to live. There are only a few that don’t need to worry about food or shelter. So, those that can make a point to have as much fun before they can’t anymore.”

“I guess that’s admirable...” You’d never really taken the time to consider why humans do what they do. It all seems pointless when you’re eternal. The concept is nice to think about when you give some thought to it. It almost makes what Taehyung has been trying to do a decent idea.

You stand before you can continue thinking as a human would, “Alright, what death traps are left?”

Taehyung’s smile grows, “I’m glad you asked.”

---

“Where’s the bar?”

“It’s behind you.”

When Taehyung dragged you to the large, circular ride with couches around it’s side, you weren’t sure what to expect. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned about human rides, it’s that they need bars in front of you.

“Excuse me? What about a lap bar?” 

“This ride doesn’t have one.”

“Not even a belt?”

“Nope.”

“What do I do if I can’t hold on?”

“Just hold on tight.” As soon as he says this, the ride starts. It just spins around at first, and that isn’t so bad. At least, not until the ride starts to bounce as well. The first one has you falling out of your seat and onto the floor.

Taehyung grabs your hand, having expected this to happen, “I told you to hold on!” He pulls you back into the seat next to him and you grab onto the bar once again. The blonde tries to let go, but you reach for his shirt and hold it like you could actually die if you fell again. He laughs, “You’re not supposed to hold onto me!”

“If I’m going down then so are you!” You yell, gripping the bar behind you and hoping for the ride to be over soon.

Every bump has you edging closer and closer to the moon god and it’s a miracle you aren’t sitting in his lap by the end of the ride. As soon as it stops, you’re finally able to catch your breath. You find yourself praying to Hui, hoping he’ll hear your plea and switch your job with Yoongi’s.

Taehyung, however, is trying not to freak out at your close proximity to him. You’re holding onto his jacket like the kitten he’d visited at the pet store, like falling is only inevitable if you let go of him. Your head is resting under his chin, the hand holding onto your top being the only thing to stop you from hitting him.

“Are you still okay?” He asks.

You pull away slowly, unbothered by how close the two of you had been due to your fear of dying on a human toy, “Fortunately.”

“How about we go on the last ride now?” Taehyung suggests, exchanging the hand he holds you with to take the elbow closest to him.

You don’t bother hiding the frown on your face, “Do we have to?”

“I think you’ll like this one.” 

The blonde helps you off of the ride and lets you cling to his arm all the way to the other side of the park where your last ride awaits. Another circular ride, only this one has cars similar to the rolling death trap he’d locked you into only 4 rides into your experience.

You stop in the middle of the walkway, pulling Taehyung back and causing the humans to move around you, “You want me to go on the spinning death wheel? Two in a row?!”

“It’s not what you think.” You give Taehyung a look and he rolls his eyes, “Come on.”

You let him take you through the line, deciding to lift yourself up for the ride instead of letting the fear you have tear you apart. Even as you’re let on the ride and once again locked in next to Taehyung you’re trying to decide if fleeing to the other side of the planet is worth blowing your cover.

“Are you okay?” The worker settling your bar in place asks.

You offer him a weak nod, “Yeah… I’m fine.”

He hands you a small, blue plastic bag with a ring holding it open and smiles, “Just in case then.”

He goes to start the ride and you’re left confused, “What’s this for?”

“How should I know?”

The ride lurches and you grab on tight to the bar, finding yourself going backward a few feet and stopping.

“Just calm down.” Taehyung coos. He places his hand over yours and rubs his thumb over the back of it, “You worry too much.”

Your eyes are locked on his hand over yours, “Why are you doing that?”

“To comfort you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re freaking out.”

“Oh…”

“I can stop if you want.” Taehyung starts to let go, but the ride moves again and you grab onto his hand yourself.

“No!” You cry. Taehyung can’t help but laugh at how different you are in this moment, and you try your best to brush it off, “Just until we get off. That way if this monstrosity breaks you have no choice but to go to.”

Taehyung smiles knowingly, “Whatever makes you feel better.”

You cling to Taehyung as the ride continues to stop and go, squeezing his hand on the occasional tilt the car makes. It isn’t until the ride - starts to actually spin continuously that you really begin to enjoy the ride itself. You somehow manage to actually like this ride, so much so that you convince the ride attendant to let you go around again. Taehyung has no complaints, especially if you’re going to smile the whole time.

You come to a stop near the top and the blonde turns to you, “So, are you enjoying yourself?” He asks with a teasing smile.

You, however, couldn’t care less if you were wrong or not at this moment. Up in the air looking down at the colorful lights of the other rides, you feel free. You have no responsibilities up here. You exist peacefully and happily without any problems holding you back.

You’re no one.

“I’ll give you this, Moon god, this ride is nice.” You lean back in the car, letting your body rest into Taehyung’s, “I think I can understand this.”

“Not the others?” He asks, teasing more than genuine curiosity.

You shrug, “Humans are strange. If they have natural Death wishes then so be it, but I suppose that the thrill could have some appeal to the right people.”

Taehyung sighs and let’s go of your hand, using his arm to wrap around your shoulders, “I was hoping you'd see things my way.”

You smile and poke his nose the way he’d done to you the other day, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Taehyung. We’re not there yet.”

“Yet~” He says with an air of hope.

“We’ll see how you play your cards.” You say. For now, you intend to enjoy the moment while it’s still here.

---

“So, what are we doing here?” You ask.

Taehyung had told you today would be even better than yesterday before the two of you parted last night - and with how terrible those rides had been it should be pretty easy to make a good impression. Anything would be better than getting on those traps again.

“We’re shopping!” He says excitedly, but his enthusiasm has you confused.

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“But you don’t need to buy things.” You remind him, “You’re a deity. You can make whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but this feels more human.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Why would you want to feel human?”

He sighs - he won’t get anywhere when you’re like this, “Why don’t I just show you and then you can ask questions?”

You move to the side and extend your hand, presenting the way for him, “Lead the way.”

He takes your outstretched hand and leads you down the sidewalk, walking in front of you with your connected hands behind his back to lead you through the crowd. You begrudgingly walk behind him, looking at the shop windows as you pass.

“This way!” Taehyung squeezes your hand and pulls you to the left, and you unconsciously squeeze back and follow him. He takes you to the entrance of a store with it’s door wide open, a rack full of children’s clothes keeping the door from closing.

The store itself is filled with nothing but clothes of all types and various accessories scattered across the shop. Young women cling together as they scan the racks and some show off their finds near the back. An older gentleman and a boy who looks to be his son stick to the men’s section to the right of the store, the son shaking his head here and there when his father shows him a new item.

Taehyung immediately takes off for the women’s section without you and you’re not really sure why he’s the excited one. You follow him anyways, arms crossed and so far highly unimpressed with his first pick of the day.

“Trying to relive the old days?” You jest as the blonde sifts through the rack.

“Nope.” He says, choosing to ignore you in favor of looking through the clothes. He keeps going for a few seconds until he finds something he deems worthy enough, “Here it is!”

You half expected him to pull out a dress, but you’re surprised when he pulls out a shirt very similar to his. You double take and realize that it is the same shirt before you’re back to being unimpressed, “What is that?”

“A shirt.”

You’re offended that he would think you’re that incompetant, “I know it’s a shirt! Why would I want it?”

“So we can match!” He shakes the shirt out of excitement and almost drops it when he spots something else, “Look! They even have cute little scrunches!” He picks one up, a little, blue hair piece with yellow crescents all over it. 

“You mean like this?” You ask, placing your palms flat as if they’re against a table and lifting, flipping them over to reveal the same bow, “Something I can make?”

Taehyung feels deflated and he doesn’t say anything right away. You’re a very to-the-point person, and he knows there’s only one way he can really get through to you.

“Could I see that for a second?” Taehyung asks, pointing to the scrunchie in your hand. You look down at it and shrug, handing it over to him without a second thought. He smiles, “Thanks.”

He takes both your scrunchie and the scrunchie he had picked up and chucks from across the store, one landing on a rack and the other in someone’s hair. You’re stunned by the fact that he - of all people - would even consider such a thing, “Taehyung-!”

Taehyung smiles - as if he hadn’t just done anything wrong - and places his empty hand on your shoulder, “New plan. You don’t get to say no to this.” He turns you around by the shoulder and nudges you in the direction of the exit, “Come on.”

You groan as he leads you to the register. Yesterday was fine, but if this is how the rest of today is going to go, then you want it to end now.

Taehyung stops in front of the register and places both the shirt and the scrunchie in front of the attendant, “We’ll take these, please.”

“Oh! Matching shirts! The both of you are going to look so cute! Here-” The girl scans the shirt, grabs a number placard, and hands both of them to you, “You can use our changing room to put it on before you leave.”

“No, that’s o-” You were perfectly happy denying her help, but the kicked puppy look Taehyung is giving you has you back peddling. You muster the most sincere smile you can, “Yes. Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

You leave Taehyung to pay the human, begrudgingly walking to the fitting rooms she had so kindly offered you. This was not your idea of fun. This is an unnecessary waste of your time. Why anyone would willingly waste their day just to change clothes you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you can at least appreciate the color. It’s simple enough that you don’t have to worry about standing out. But standing next to Taehyung wearing matching shirts isn’t going to help you any.

“(Y/n)? Are you done?” Taehyung asks, his voice echoing from the other side of the door. You sigh, relenting to a fate of your own and open the door, the shirt you were wearing hanging over your arm. 

“Well?” You ask. The blonde takes a step back from the door, eyeing you up and down. 

“Wow…” His smile is so wide you’d think the action hurts. He looks like a child seeing snow for the first time. He's so excited. His beaming smile - as well as the giggling girls standing in front of the room next to you - has you feeling hot with embarrassment.

You shuffle forward and cross your arms, “Are you happy now?” 

“Very.” He assures you. He knew you were pretty, but you just look so cute when you’re all flustered. It’s nice to see you finally being the one grasping for straws. “Come on, we have a lot to do.”

---

“Food?” You ask, eyeing the numerous stalls that line the street in front of you.

Taehyung nods, “You’ve only had a diet of shrimp chips and strawberry milk. I think it’s time you branch out.”

He leads you to the first stall and points to a tray before he hands the man money in exchange for two sticks with something skewered to them. He hands one to you, and you’re left staring at the item in your hand, “And this is?”

“Food. Eat it.” You’re unsure at first, but you agreed(forcefully agreed) to do whatever Taehyung decided to do for the day. You take a hesitant bite, but one bite is all it took to understand. Taehyung must be able to tell by whatever expression you’re making, “Good, isn’t it?”

You turn to the vendor with your mouth still somewhat full, “Can we get 2 more, please?”

He nods and gets you two more, but Taehyung is quick to take them out of his hands before you can. “Don’t fill up! We have a whole street to go through.” He gestures to the other stalls around you, and for once you’re actually excited to listen to the mischievous god. 

It takes you almost 2 hours just to get back to where you started, and you’re sure you’d be on the ground if you were a human. You have to give Taehyung credit where it’s due, this was a great idea.

“What’s next?” You ask, turning to Taehyung with a bit more hope for the future.

He shrugs, “I guess we could go around for seconds but that might scare the humans.”

You frown, realizing how reckless you’ve been, “I guess you’re right.”

Your change in demeanor throws Taehyung for a loop. This isn’t the first time you’ve dismissed him - or anything - like this. He knows you’re reluctant to tell him, so he thinks of something that’ll get your attention, “Let’s look at what trinkets are being sold.”

“Trinkets?” You ask curiously.

“Like the things Jimin sells in the gift shop.”

“Merchandise?”

He shrugs, “Sure.”

Taehyung leads you back down the street, passing several food stalls before he reaches a jewelry stand that might catch your attention. He takes a quick look over the items on display before he finds one you might actually enjoy. 

He turns around and pulls you closer to the stand, pointing to the simple, silver necklace with a glittering ball charm, “What do you think about this?”

You shrug, “It’s no soulmate necklace, but I guess it’s nice.” Taehyung seems disappointed by your response so you take a closer look. It’s nice in theory, pretty and sparkling. You’d have to guess anyone would enjoy something like this. “The charm is shiny.”

“Well, yeah. It’s supposed to be.” You give him a look, and he chuckles. He gets the vendor’s attention and waves them over, “How much is this?”

“5.”

Taehyung pulls out some money and hands it over, “Here you go.”

You watch him as he puts the money away, “Why’d you buy it?”

“The little things! Now, turn around.” You give in and turn around, waiting for the inevitable push forward to come. But instead, Taehyung’s hands come down over your head and with one end of the necklace in each hand, “There. Now you look even better.”

“Oh? So I was ugly before?” You ask, turning around to face the Moon god with a teasing smile.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, “What? No! That’s not what I meant! You’re beautiful, I just-” He finds it hard to come up with the right words to say, “-I just think this compliments your look.”

“Thank you.” You say, feeling the heat in your cheeks. You’re also at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. You’ve never been complimented by someone, “Um-...What else did you want to do today?”

Taehyung looks at his watch and sighs, “It’s not time for us to go to our next surprise, so I guess we’ll have to be spontaneous.”

“Spontaneous? What a big word, I’m impressed.” You tease, earning a glare from the blonde. You sigh, “Fine. I’m sorry. Lead the way.”

The two of you were able to find a park. At least this one wasn’t full of death traps like the other had been. This one only had slides, a merry-go-round, swings, and rocking horses. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but Taehyung’s judgement had proved to be good enough. It was simple enough, and far less terrifying than the amusement park. He was right when he said it’d buy you some time, because the two of you spent quite a bit of time enjoying the playsets made for human children until you finally had to leave for your next surprise.

“Next!” The attendant calls out before the family in front of you even moves. Taehyung leads the way around them to the counter, and you follow behind him like you have all day. The human teenager seems less than enthused to be stuck in a box, “For two?”

Taehyung nods, “Yes. We’d like the 7:30 showing of Save Me.”

The boy tells him the price and holds out his hand, accepting the money Taehyung gives him and handing back two tickets in return, “Enjoy the show. Next!”

“I think we just found Yoongi’s twin.” Taehyung says, more to himself than to you, but it has you bursting into laughter. The blonde opens the door for you, amused by your reaction, “Oh, so you do think I’m funny?”

“No!” You stop and wait for him to catch up with you before you relent, “Okay, so maybe you can be funny, but it’s not a common thing for you.”

He scoffs, “Uhuh, sure. Let’s just get some snacks.”

“Comfort food?”

“As much as we can handle.”

And he stays true to that. The two of you put the poor girl behind the snack counter through the ringer with the amount of candies you buy. The tray to hold your hot food is so packed that you have to carry the popcorn and two of the boxes you bought so it all could fit! The humans that you pass on your way to your movie send you judgemental looks, but if you were them, then you probably would too.

Taehyung leads the way to a small, two-seat balcony section over the theater’s entrance, the first row so you don’t have to hold your tray throughout the movie. You both get settled while videos play on the screen - something that the human’s call previews. Taehyung picks up the hot food he had bought first to eat, and you have no complaints eating them while you wait for your movie to start.

When the lights do finally dim and the crowd in the theater begins to hush, you can’t help but turn to Taehyung, “This isn’t going to be scary, is it?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks. You nod, “I have no clue.”

---

Thankfully for you, the movie had not been scary. There were some parts that had you jump from the sudden action, but nothing terrible. It was entertaining for something made in the eyes of a human. 

“How clever are humans to paint Fate so well? I’m actually impressed with their interpretation!” You rave as you leave the theater. 

Your smile is radiant and Taehyung can feel himself relax, “So, does that mean you liked the movie?” He asks.

“It was enjoyable,” You agree. You can’t deny that seeing your job portrayed correctly has taken you off guard. Not only that, but it’s amusing to think that humans understand your duties better than the deity in front of you. “Though, I’m confused as to why Fate was a talking house cat.”

He shrugs, “Humans are innovative. Their creativity doesn’t have any bounds.”

“I suppose you could say that.” The both of you walk around the corner of the building to the alley, out of eyesight from the humans, “Same time tomorrow?” You ask.

Taehyung nods, “Yeah. Wear sneakers.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later.” You look around before you disappear, leaving Taehyung to stare at the empty space where you stood.

This is only your second day out and it feels like an eternity. But the feeling isn’t bad at all. Neither of you have really pushed at the other like you normally do and it’s weird. It’s like that line of friend and enemy has been crossed and you don’t have to be Fate or Moon God.

You’re just (Y/n) and Taehyung.

*

*

*

Both you and Taehyung walk down the street, fairly close to the museum. He’d taken you for a late morning-early afternoon bike ride through the park a few blocks over. Taehyung himself has always found bikes to be a bit more exciting than cars, enjoying the feeling of flying through the air and seeing nature’s colors without a shield. 

You sigh, “I’ve never realized just how beautiful trees can be.” You’ve never spent much time on Earth - even in the past few weeks that you’ve spent babysitting. But today you both spent a good hour or so just riding around the park - you even biked the path next to the river. Of course, like everything else, it took a moment for you to really get into everything, but today has been the fastest you’ve given in and felt something other than indifference. Not only did you relax, but Taehyung was able to as well. 

“It’s a lot nicer when you can feel the wind through your hair. It makes it feel more magical.” Taehyung agrees. He’d never say it outloud, but this version of you has really captured his attention. He’s barely even thought about worrying over Namjoon and Eunha. There’s just something about the time you’ve spent together that just feels right now.

“I guess it does.”

Taehyung smiles and jogs in front of you, stopping in front of a restaurant, pulling open the door, and offering you a deep bow, “Madame~”

You attempt to bite back a smile and give a small nod back, “Thank you.”

Walking into the cozy little restaurant, you are quickly greeted by the middle aged woman at the counter, “Welcome!”

She’s turned around, so she doesn’t see who’s entered, but Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets her back, “Good afternoon, Yuna!” 

Yuna turns around and coos when she confirms it’s Taehyung, “Taehyung!” He waves back at her and she nods, turning back around and tapping the window cut into the wall, “Mom! One of your regulars is here.”

“Who is it?” You hear her before you see her, the door to the kitchen opening to reveal Ms. Oh with her hair tucked away in a hair net. She scans her restaurant and a smile breaks out on her face when she sees Taehyung standing at her counter, “Oh! Taehyung, my handsome boy! Give me a hug.” Ms. Oh all but runs around her front counter and holds out her arms, Taehyung wrapping his arms over the elder woman. She squeezes him tight and sways him back and forth, pulling away to look over his shoulder, “Where’s Hoseok and Jimin?”

He shrugs, “They’re working today.”

“Oh, I see...” She nods in understanding. Turning her attention to you, her eyes going back and forth between you and Taehyung before something seems to click in her brain and any confusion she had turns into mischief, “And who’s this lovely lady~?”

You smile, “(Y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re here on a date.” Taehyung adds, a mischievous smile of his own.

Ms. Oh gasps, “A date?!” Taehyung nods and poor Ms. Oh looks like she’s going to have a fit. She turns Taehyung around and pushes him towards you, the deity grabbing onto your shoulders to steady himself, “Oh, you sit down and stop talking to a little old lady like me. You have this beautiful young woman next to you and you’re going to waste time talking to some prune?!”

Taehyung adheres to her advice and starts to lead you to a table by the window, Ms. Oh following the two of you with a menu. He can’t stop himself from adding on as you sit down, “Her beauty is only second to yours, Ms. Oh~”

“You’re not getting a discount. Sit.” She taps his shoulder with the menu and he complies, sitting down and accepting her menu with both hands.

She ruffles his hair and walks away, leaving you both amused and confused, “Well, she’s charming.”

“Ms. Oh is full of personality. Hoseok only comes here for her.” Taehyung laughs before adding on, “And her kimchi.”

The two order their food and continue to make small talk as they wait. It’s hard to miss Ms. Oh peeking over the order window, and Taehyung makes a show out of waving at her everytime he catches her. It’s no surprise when she personally delivers their food to them.

“Here we are~ I expect this food to be all gone before you leave, do you understand?” She gives both of you an expectant look.

Taehyung nods, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now-” She grabs a chair from a nearby table, pulls it over, and sits down, “-how did the two of you meet?”

“(Y/n) is actually the owner of the museum.” Taehyung explains, taking a bite of his food.

This seems to impress Ms. Oh, “She is?!” She looks to you for confirmation and you do with a hand covering your mouth. She leans back in her seat with a small, seemingly knowing smile, “Wow, so you’re really hitting it off with the boss~”

You choke on your food and Taehyung chuckles, “You could say that.”

Ms. Oh sighs, “I understand. I was hitting it off with the boss’ son back in my day. It got me this restaurant!”

“Mom! Leave that poor couple alone!” Yuna scolds from across the room.

You wave your hands before you speak up, “No, she’s fine!” 

She smiles at you and Taehyung continues the conversation, “So, you took over your husband’s family business?”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t until after he died that I took over, but we did run it together for 45 years.” Ms. Oh looks out the window, most likely reminiscing on old days when her husband was alive and well. You give Taehyung a small kick under the table for bringing up a sensitive topic, and his hiss of pain has Ms. Oh breaking out of her thoughts. She must catch onto what happened, because she puts her hand over yours and laughs, “You sweet thing! Your friend Hoseok reminds me of him when he stops by. He likes my kimchi almost as much as my Changbin did.”

Even with a smile, you can still tell how much pain she went through, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

She sighs, “It was a while ago. That wound has closed over now.”

“Still-...those 45 years must have been wonderful.” Taehyung adds, offering a warm smile.

“I cherish every single moment and memory. I keep my most important one’s close to me.” Ms. Oh looks over to where Yuna hands over a delivery order.

“Is Yuna your only child?” You ask.

She squeezes your hand, “My eldest - Hanbin - died in the car accident with his father. Soobin hasn’t spoken to me since he graduated high school.”

“I’m so sorry…” You’re at a loss for words. Comforting humans - comforting others - is not something you’re used to.

“That’s Fate for you.” She shrugs, unbeknownst to her that she’s holding Fate’s hand. Your eyes widen and you look to Taehyung for help, but he’s keeping his head down. Thankfully, Ms. Oh’s determination and free spirit can’t be stopped by something as trivial as strings, “But Fate has brought me wonderful customers such as yourself.”

You smile, “Thank you.” 

“And besides, I get plenty of handsome young men coming into my store everyday. Fate blessed me there.” She looks at Taehyung with another bright smile, but you’re no longer as happy as you were, “Oh, look-! I’ve dampened the mood.” Ms. Oh stands up and puts her chair back where it belongs, “The two of you eat up and enjoy each other’s company. Make the most of it.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung gives her a small bow before she walks back to her kitchen, leaving you to sit and think about this nice human who’s had everything cut short by her own family’s strings. 

Your strings.

Taehyung sets his head on the table where your eyes stare at nothing, “You okay?”

You meet his eyes and look past him to watch Ms. Oh hug her daughter, “She’s so happy...yet she’s had so much taken from her.”

Taehyung shrugs, “You haven’t been kind to her.”

You nod in agreement, “I wish I could have been.”

---

After lunch with Ms. Oh, you had to make a quick stop by the museum. You didn’t say what you had to get, but Taehyung was happy to wait for you by the front doors. He made good conversation with Jin, even found out a bit more about the man’s many, many failed relationships. Thankfully, you were back within a few minutes, and the two of you still managed to make it to the mall and window shop before you were called away by the council.

Council meetings always come on like cold chills, and it was hard to miss with how violently your body shook. He could tell you were reluctant to go, especially if he wasn’t going with you. But he let you go, assuring you that the outing for tomorrow would need rest anyway.

Now, he stands in front of his apartment door fiddling with the keys to enter his apartment the correct way for the first time in days.

“Hey, I’m ho-Oh!” Taehyung stumbles back, throwing a hand over his eyes. Jimin takes up the couch, sharing his “time” with someone he can’t see, “Sorry…”

Jimin stands up and sighs, fixing his shirt, “It’s okay. Nothing we can’t get back to.” Jeongguk sits up with his brown mop tousled and bruises all over his neck and chin - As surprised as Taehyung is, he really shouldn’t be. Jimin sits back down and crosses his arms, “I see you’re still alive. I wasn’t sure when you didn’t come barging into my room.”

“Yesterday and today went great!” He explains. He begins to take off his shoes, “I took her to an amusement park the first day - and that probably wasn’t my best decision - she really didn’t like a lot of the rides, but she actually relaxed for once! And then today! I took her shopping and we got matching shirts, and we ate tons of food, and I even bought her this cute little necklace. SHe actually liked it. And we-!”

Jimin holds up his hands, “Woah, woah, woah! Hold on! Slow down for a minute.”

“Why?” 

“Because you’re starting to sound like you like her.”

Taehyung shrugs, “So? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No! If you like her then she can use you!” Jimin hits the coffee table with his hand and stands from the couch, “I should’ve known this would happen.”

Taehyung tilts his head in confusion, “What would happen?”

“You!” Jimin yells, “You’re too soft! Too good. If you keep going like this then she’ll only stab you in the back.”

“I’m just getting to know her!”Taehyung defends, “She’s actually not that bad once you find common ground. She actually does this cute little thing with her nose when she’s scared-”

Jimin crosses the room and grabs Taehyung by the front of his shirt, “-Stop it! Listen to yourself! Friends shouldn’t be cute to you!”

“I think you’re overreacting, Jimin.” Jeongguk pipes up from the couch.

JImin turns around with a glare, “Stay out of this, Kookie!”

Taehyung takes this opportunity to push Jimin’s hands off of him, “I’m just trying to get her on our side.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t forget who dropped everything to help you in the first place.” The blond reminds him.

Taehyung is stunned for a minute, “You could’ve said no.” He’s never shown distaste since the first day he agreed to help him. He’s only used every opportunity to reinvent this new version of him. If Jimin was unhappy, then he had ample opportunity to tell him.

“A good friend would help you!”

“Then why are you so angry?!”

“Because you’re letting Fate blind you!” Jimin pushes against Taehyung’s chest and the Moon god stumbles back into the wall behind him, “You’re letting her get into your head, and before you know it everything we’ve worked for will be for nothing-!”

“-You’re wrong!” Taehyung yells, pushing back against him in retaliation, “You don’t know that!”

Jeongguk tries to grab JImin in hopes of reeling him in, but the Earth god throws his arms out to the side, “She doesn’t care, Taehyung! She doesn’t care about the humans and she doesn’t care about you!”

“Then stay out of it!” Taehyung turns his back to his friend and returns to the door where his shoes are.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks, still very angry.

Taehyung picks up his shoes and shrugs, “If you won’t help with my plan then I won’t force you.”

“Taehyung wait-!” Jeongguk tried, but the Moon couldn’t care less. He’s been around people that don’t want to be near him long enough to understand when he should just go.

He finds himself by the river again. Not even 12 hours ago he was here with you and he was smiling and happy and free and now it’s tainted. He can feel his own rays of light shining down to give him warmth, but it’s for nothing. He doesn’t feel it. 

At a moment like this, he just wants to feel something.

You’d like to feel less.

Council meetings have never been anyone’s favorite. It’s very rare that every deity is required to attend, and it’s tasked upon the High 6 to meet regularly to maintain balance. You’ve done it since the beginning of the universe and you doubt it wil stop until the very end. The only thing worse than a regular meeting and a full meeting, is a meeting called to discuss the Pillars of Balance.

These meetings are never in your favor.

“Have the 3 of you forgotten how your jobs work?” Seowoo - the Cosmos asks, annoyance dripping from her tongue.

You, Yoongi, and Hoseok stand before the other 3, holding your ground together as they all stare you down. Seowoo is almost livid, while Juhyun looks like he doesn’t care either way. Hui - as always - is almost impossible to read.

“It’s not like we haven’t been trying. You try spending 6 days straight with Taehyung and see if you can tolerate him enough.”

Juhyun sighs, “Why don’t we just strip his powers away? Won’t that fix the problem?” He doesn’t even attempt to hide his boredom.

Seowoo shakes her head, “He needs to be stripped of his powers! We warned him the first time and look where that got us!”

You absolutely disagree, “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?” You ask.

She scoffs, “You’re the reason we’re in this position in the first place!”

“Excuse me?”

“We should have taken his powers away years ago, but you just had to baby him!”

You’re offended, “Because it was his first offense and I thought he learned his lesson! You’re the ones that didn’t try to understand him!” You’ve never once shown special treatment to anyone. You definitely aren’t now.

“Oh, I understand him alright. He’s a menace, and you’ve only encouraged his behavior!”

“I tried to do what was best for him!” You argue.

Juhyun pipes up, “What about what’s best for everyone else?”

He makes a valid point, but you know that taking the powers away really won’t be helping anyone, “He’s lonely on his planet. Taking away his ability to visit others won’t fix that.”

“Maybe he’d stop trying to do everyone’s job…” Seowoo mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back in her chair.

“This is just a rough patch for him.” You explain. You know Taehyung, and as much as he thinks you’re changing, he’s changing just as much. “He needs to see that this isn’t going to go the way he wants and he’ll stop!” 

“Or he’ll do it all over again!” Seowoo argues, completely exasperated.

Juhyun looks to Hoseok and Yoongi on either side of you for some kind of helpful input, “Are the two of you listening to this?”

Hoseok nods, “We stand behind (Y/n)’s decisions.”

Seowoo groans in annoyance and turns to the only other person who can do anything, “Hui, talk some sense into them. Into her.”

“(Y/n)-” He stands from his chair and leaves his platform, extending his arm to you, “Come with me.”

You ignore the pleased smile on Seowoo’s face and take his arm, allowing him to lead you away from the enclosed room. He takes you to a small balcony just off the room, a curtain being the only door between you and the others. The balcony has a beautiful view of the galaxy, showcasing twinkling stars and distant planets. You try to enjoy it, but your nerves are too on edge.

Hui joins you, resting his arms on the railing, “Have you been alright?” 

This takes you by surprise, “Of course! What kind of question is that?” You ask.

“You’ve been acting differently for quite some time now.” He explains, “I’d say since Taehyung first started causing trouble.”

You shake your head, “I think you’re wrong. I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

He turns his head to look at you, “I don’t believe you are.” 

You sigh, “Look, Seowoo has always been dramatic. I promise you that I am taking this situation seriously.”

“When Jimin severed the humans from their soulmates, you nearly ended his entire career. You didn’t give Taehyung that treatment.” He’s not wrong, but Jimin’s situation was so much different from Taehyung’s.

“Taehyung messed with the fate of 2 individuals, not an entire population...” You remind him.

Hui looks down and back up, sighing, “What are you trying to achieve?”

“Taehyung doesn’t understand. I’m trying to help him come to terms with their future, but it’s just taking a little longer.”  

Hui laughs, “He’s a moon. He doesn’t understand, and it’s very likely he never will. He’s not like you.”

“Taehyung has never had anyone call out to him for help.” You explain, “He’s only insistent on doing this because Namjoon came to him and now he feels responsible!”

“So, that’s what’s wrong with him…” The Universe seems to understand.

“I thought after what happened the first time, he would have understood. That he would have given up on something that was so doomed from the start, but he’s determined.” In a way, you really feel for Taehyung. He’s doing what he thinks is right, but his determination is only causing more pain than good. “I’m just trying to help him.”

“I think you and I both know that helping him is no way to help him.”

“I’m hoping to lessen his pain! We stripped Jimin of his powers and now look at him!” After stripping him of his powers, the Earth god became so much more human-like than anyone could have anticipated. He found other ways to play with humans and make them praise him, and his resentment has yet to fully diminish.

Hui tilts his head in confusion, “We?”

You heave a heavy sigh, “I.”

Hui shrugs, “I thought you said he deserved it? You thought it was best.”

“Well I was wrong!” You admit, slapping your hand against the cool marble railing. Watching Jimin over the years try to assimilate has always made you feel terrible. No matter how justified your actions may have been, watching him has always felt wrong, “Let me make this right.”

He sighs, “You know, Fate has no use for Hope.”

You laugh, “Some omnipotent being I am…”

Hui shrugs, “You can’t help that you’ve fallen in love.”

His words have you whipping your head faster than the speed of light, “What?”

“You can’t help that yo-”

“No. I heard you the first time.” You assure him. You heard him loud and clear and he could not be more wrong, “I’m not in love with Taehyung.”

He smiles knowingly, “I never said it was Taehyung.”

“But you implied it was!” He raises an eyebrow as if to challenge you, and you’re astonished. You can feel the heat rising on your cheeks and you find yourself stumbling over your words, “I am not in- In love with Taehyung! He’s a thorn in my side!”

He chuckles and turns his attention to the view in front of you, “You’re lucky.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Your job brings you close to humans. You get to experience their emotions far more than the rest of us.” He explains, his gaze locked on the inhabited planet.

You’re completely confused, “Is there a point you’re trying to make? Gods have no use for emotions.”

“Is that so?” He asks. He turns his head to you with a mischievous smile, “Or is that just what we decided was best?”

You pout, “We’ve already seen what human emotions can do to us 1 too many times…”

“And we’ve learned.” He agrees, “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

You shake your head, “How is an emotion like love supposed to help me right now?”

“Let me ask you this: Are you doing this to give Taehyung a second chance? Or is this your 4th?” He asks. 

It’s been far too long since you were first created as the Goddess of Fate. In that time, you’ve learned the in’s and out’s of what it takes. Most importantly, you’ve experienced most of your rules first hand. It’s been so long and pushed so far out of your mind, that even you forget about your own shortcomings.

“You’ve made mistakes and you have regrets. You’re not perfect.”

You scoff, thinking of Seowoo, “Perfect is apparently a part of the job...”

Hui sighs and pushes away from the railing, “I’ll tell the other’s that this situation is no longer any of our business and you, Yoongi, and Hoseok will make everything right, just as you always do. But do me a favor and remember what we’ve talked about.”

He walks away, leaving you on the balcony by yourself to think. He’s always such a strange character, and sometimes he’s almost unconventional. He should be a God of Mischief instead of your Universe. But he does leave you with many things to mull over.

Are you projecting your own past regrets onto Taehyung without even realizing it? Are you hoping that by fixing Taehyung, you’ll feel better about all of your past mistakes? Do you really see him as just an acquaintance, or are you actually in love with him? It doesn’t make sense to you. There are many reasons to treat him differently.

You can’t be in love with Taehyung.

You feel a tug on your finger, and it’s very light at first, but it soon gets harder and more urgent. This usually means that someone is doing something they shouldn’t, and if the track records are anything to go off of then the Moon god is the one to blame.

You quickly make the travel from Star 13 to Earth, following your strings to the mischievous god. You’re not surprised to see him flinging rocks into the river, nor are you surprised to see the overturned trash cans and benches along the path to him. Taehyung has always been emotional, and he tends to go overboard when he gets upset. You fix most of his mess and hurry to stop him, hoping to get to him before someone calls the human authorities on him. 

“You know-” Taehyung stops mid-throw, “there are easier ways to contact me.”

He’s surprised - and he really shouldn’t be. He knew if he caused a big enough scene then you’d have no choice but to come and see what he was up to. A part of him knew exactly what he was doing, but his irrational side would never let him admit it.

Taehyung lets his arm fall to his side and he lightly tosses the last rock into the water, “When have I ever used a normal means?”

You shrug, “I suppose I should’ve expected something like this.”

Neither of you are sure what to say after that. Taehyung is fighting an inner battle with himself, unsure if he actually wants your help or regrets trying in the first place. And you’re still reeling from the conversation with hUi and what exactly it is that you’re feeling. But either way, you are there and Taehyung does need help.

“So-” You start, coming up next to him and sitting in the grass, “What’s bothering you?”

“Why do you think something’s bothering me?” “Okay, so, maybe something is bothering me.”

“Wanna talk about it?” “You ask, patting the spot next to you, “I promise I’ll try my best to not-...” You hesitate, “-be so me.”

“You aren’t the problem,” Taehyung sighs, “Well-” He sits down cross-legged next to you, “-you are, but you aren’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, just bare with me.”

“Okay.”

Taehyung sighs, “Jimin and I got into a fight over the deal you and I made.”

“Why?” You ask.

“He doesn’t think you can change.” He admits.

Knowing your relationship with Jimin, you really can’t blame him for thinking that way, “I guess to someone like Jimin, that would make the most sense. I’ve never really been easy on him.”

“Yeah, but that’s biased!”

“Are you saying you aren’t biased?” You ask. Taehyung opens his mouth, but words don’t come out. You place a hand on his shoulder, “Jimin has his reasons.”

Taehyung sighs and looks to his lap, “I know, that’s what scares me…”

“Well, you kn-Oh!” You feel something cold at your feet and stand up. The water of the river has risen, slowly coming closer to you, “We should move back. The water is really coming in.” You take a few steps back, but Taehyung stays in his spot, “Taehyung?”

The moon god just lays back and looks to the sky where his planet shines bright, “Most of Jimin’s planet is made up of water. I’ve always loved it’s color and how beautiful it looks from my planet. I guess I’m just attracted to it.”

“It’s normal to be attracted to beautiful things.” You rationalize.

Taehyung tilts his head back to look at you, “Did you know that humans are 70% water?” He asks. You shake your head and he positions his so that he can see his planet again. “I think I have an obsession.”

“No.” You move to sit just above his head in the grass and lean over him ever so slightly, making sure the god can see you, “I think you have feelings.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “Is that really any better? Gods aren’t supposed to have feelings.”

His point is exactly what you had said to Hui, but the Universe had made some fair points as well, “Then why do we have them?”

“We?” Taehyung questions.

“You heard me. We all have them, even Hui and Yoongi do! Why would we have feelings if we aren’t supposed to have them?” You ask. Taehyung looks confused. He reaches his hand up and rests it at your cheek, holding it there for a moment before pinching it between his fingers “Ow!”

You slap his hand and he pulls it away, “Sorry, I just had to make sure you aren’t from Planet 181.” You give him a hard glare and he holds his hands in front of his chest, “It’s just weird that you’re being so positive and-...supportive.” You’re not usually a very supportive person. Of course, he’s been able to see a new side of you these past few days, but it’s still so new. It starts to make him think something else is going on.

He sits up and scoots himself back so he can sit next to you, “Did something happen with the council?”

“They-uh…” It’s hard to meet his eyes. You can only think back to what Hui had said about your own feelings in this moment, and you have to remind yourself that this needs to be a professional moment. You decide to tell him the better news. “Hui is leaving the situation in my hands. They’re going to stay out of it from now on.”

“I honestly can’t tell if that’s good news for me or not.” He jokes. You shake your head, but you find it hard to be mad at him. Over the past few days, you’ve really seen a change in him, and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t noticed your own changes. Maybe you can both win at the end of this.  

“Maybe it can be good.” He tilts his head in confusion and you sigh, “I will try to help you from here on out.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Really?! But we still have one more day!”

“And you can still show me whatever you have left. I just-” You look for the right words to say. You don’t want to give him false hope, but there are ways to trick Fate. You just can’t do it alone, “Maybe there is something more I can do.”

“Really?!” You nod, “Oh! Yes! Thank you!” Taehyung tackles you to the ground with a hug, “You’re amazing! I knew I could change your mind!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You awkwardly pat Taehyung on the back, “Just know I’ll do my best. Now, get off of me!”

Taehyung rolls off of you, but he’s not ready to let go. His hand finds yours and he intertwines your fingers with his, “Thank you.”

“For what?” 

He squeezes your hand, “Giving me a chance.” 

“Fate isn’t very notorious for letting things just magically fall into place,” You admit. You turn your head to look at him and smile, “But second chances can happen.”

“I promise not to let you down.” He says. He looks back to the sky and sighs, “I just hope Eunha and Namjoon get the opportunity to spend time like this.”

 “Like this?” You ask, slightly confused.

“Together.”

He says it so innocently, that you’re unsure if he considers your relationship with him to be similar to theirs or if he enjoys the new dynamic the two of you have. He looks so at peace lying next to you, holding your hand and enjoying the view of his planet. His own rays bathe him in a healthy glow and you can feel a flutter in your chest. You can’t help but think of what he means to you.

Maybe you are in love with Taehyung.

*

*

*

Your weekend with Taehyung made you feel special and light, a bit more free than you’ve felt in a millennia. For once, you’ve haven’t worried over strings or worried about their pull. You only worried about yourself and you got to focus on what it’s like to step outside of the box. You got to be you, and now you’re one step closer to knowing how you feel about Taehyung.

But all good things must come to an end.

There’s a moment in time when a dam breaks that everything seems to slow down. It’s like gravity forgets to pull down and everything is left hanging in the air. Your stomach drops and life just seems to drain out of you knowing the inevitable is coming whether you want it to or not. That’s how it feels looking at your hands and following every last string to it’s end. 

“Are you going to tell him?” Hoseok asks.

You shake your head, “No.” You want to more than anything, but you can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. Even if you did, you know Taehyung’s would guide him, and that has never worked well for anyone in the past. “Telling him won’t help him.”

“But he’s going to be really angry with you when he finds out.” Hoseok - the sweet God he is - picked up on your changes a while ago. He figured out your feelings even before Hui did, and seeing your progress be disrupted by this has him on edge.

“I’ll deal with it when I get there.” You assure him. You can’t worry about the future when you really need to focus on the now, “Did you find him?”

He nods, “It took a while, but Yoongi managed.”

You nod in approval, “Good. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“That’s not fun, (Y/n).” He whines.

You wave him off, “Just take Yoongi and do what I tell you.”

“Fine, but you owe me.” He relents. He turns to leave, but he turns back with a sly smirk, “Maybe we should call you the love god.”

“Goodbye, Hoseok!” 

He finally leaves, and you’re left with the possibilities ahead of you.

A happy ending isn’t written, it’s hardly even a good ending as far as humans would be concerned. The string knots and breaks every single time. It’s disappointing to say the least, especially after the promise you made to Taehyung. This will crush him just as much as it will crush Eunha to say goodbye, but you can’t let it continue on any longer. At this point, there’s nothing else you can do but wait for gravity to fall.

And fall it did.

Everything was fine. He was over the moon with the relationship he formed with you. Eunha seemed so happy after her break, especially after taking Namjoon with her. He’d hoped they bonded just like the two of you had. It seemed like all the strings were finally converging nicely, but he never thought something like this could happen.

He storms into your office without so much as a warning, “Did you know this would happen?!”

“Well, hello to you too.” You’re taken aback by his entrance, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t busy.”

“Did you know?” He asks again.

He’s angry, and there’s only two possible reasons why he’s behaving like this. But there’s only one way to be sure, “Did I know what?”

“Stop pretending like you don’t know!” He demands, “Eunha told Namjoon she wants to break the necklace.”

“So she chose that future…” You confirm. You look down at your hands, the faint glow of the strings illuminating them. There’s nothing you can do now, especially now that she’s already begun the process, “That’s her decision Taehyung, I don’t control her free will.”

“Can’t you change something?!” He asks. 

“You should already know it’s not that simple.” 

“How?! Every time you talk to me, you never talk to me!” He complains.

You’re confused, “What do you mean? I always talk to you.”

“No. You talk at me. There’s a difference.” He explains bitterly, “You don’t think I can handle the truth.”

You shrug, “Well, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Can you really?”

“Yes!”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you can because you never seem to get it through your head!” You yell.

Taehyung scoffs, “And whose fault is that?”

“You think it’s mine?!”

“Well, it’s not for lack of communication on my part!”

“Bullshit!” You curse, “I’ve told you multiple, multiple, multiple times exactly what needed to be done and how things would play out and now it’s up to them and you never listen! You think I’m lying and that I’m working against you, but you don’t even understand how my job works!”

“Like looking at your hands is a big deal.”

“It’s a whole lot more than that and you know it!” Every time you think you’re past this argument, he always brings it back around, “I know you want them to be happy, and you want to keep your promise. I get that, but they can’t go on like this anymore. It’s only a matter of time before they break.”

Taehyung feels defeated. You had told him that you might be able to do something, but from where he’s standing you’re not making any effort at all. You’re just letting them both fall victim to their strings, and ignoring his pleas. It’s like you never really cared in the first place.

Of course, you want to do more, but there’s only so much one can do. Controlling Fate isn’t an option, “I really am sorry, Taehyung, but this is out of our hands.”

A scream rings out through the hallways and it catches the both of you off guard. To you, this is the beginning of the end. For Taehyung, this is his last and final chance.

You meet his eyes and you already know what he’s thinking, “There’s nothing you can do for them, Taehyung.”

“Watch me.”

He bolts, knocking a chair over in the process of running out the door. It catches you off guard, but you have far more tricks up your sleeve.

You travel to the main hall, just outside of the cafe, 10 feet in front of Taehyung who insists on running, “Taehyung, please stop and just listen to me for once.”

“I’m not just going to let this opportunity slip away!” He runs around you and you work fast to get in front of him again.

“Kim Taehyung! Don’t make me hold you down, because I will!” You threaten. You hold your hands out in front of you to block him, “You’re not thinking rationally! Stop behaving like a human!”

“Stop acting like a god!” He yells back, “You may be all-knowing, but you really don’t know as much as you think you do! They still have a small chance, and I’m not going to give up and let them slip through my fingers like you do!”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

You place your hands in front of you and pull them apart to reveal the strings that bind them together. You gently pull your pointer finger back, causing the string to tighten. Taehyung trips over it as another scream rings out through the museum.

He tries to get up, but you pull back again, “What are you doing?!” He yells.

“I’m trying to make this as painless as possible for everyone!” You explain, holding him tight in the chaos of your strings.

Another scream rings out and Taehyung struggles to break himself free, “Eunha needs me! Let me go!”

“You’ll just get hurt if I let you go, Taehyung!” You try to explain. You know how this ends, and you know how devastated he’ll be. You can’t do that to him. He’s been through enough, and this needs to end here and now before anyone else gets hurt. “I’m trying to help you!”

“Then stop trying!” He demands, “That’s how you can help me.”

You know he’s hurting, but you can’t pretend you aren’t hurt by his words, “Fine.” You let him go, but you’re not done yet, “But you’ll be too late.”

You make a fist with both hands and tug hard, a cacophony of sounds echoing down the hall. An entire hoard of museum exhibits have been brought to life and freed, and you let them. Taehyung is appalled, “You promised!”

“I promised I would help and do what I can.” You remind him, “This is the best possible outcome.”

You have good intentions, but Taehyung just can’t see it, “Letting them go through with it?! Breaking the spell! Making them say goodbye?!”

“Goodbye’s aren’t forever.” You know firsthand that this isn’t their end. Their paths most likely will never cross again, but that doesn’t mean they never will. Breaking the spell is the best chance they have at saving any connection they have, “Taehyung, you just have to trust me-”

“I’m done trusting you!” He yells, “Jimin was right, I never should have made that stupid deal! It was all for nothing.” 

He feels stupid and used, but most importantly, he feels betrayed. You promised him, but it was to play against him. He thought you changed, but you’re the same person you’ve always been. Uncaring, cold, and a god.

You’re Fate.

You try not to take his words to heart, but you can’t help it, “Was it really all for nothing?” Taehyung doesn’t say anything, and you feel the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You’re both silent.

And so is the museum.

Taehyung’s heart drops when he realizes that the once noisy hall is now bathed in silence, “No-” 

He looks to you for confirmation, and you can’t deny him the truth, “I’m sorry.”

“Eunha!” Taehyung takes off down the hall and disappears into thin air, no doubt to the King’s exhibit. He leaves you standing alone, wondering why doing the right thing has to hurt.

*

*

*

Taehyung never came back down from the 3rd floor exhibit. After Namjoon was officially gone and Eunha was left with the remains of their bond, Taehyung took off to mourn yet another loss. You never saw him leave, and Eunha didn’t say anything on the way out. You can only hope that she doesn’t let this affect her.

You really hope Taehyung will be forgiving.

“He hasn’t come back to the apartment since our fight.” Jimin confirms.

You stare out the window of your office, arms crossed as you scan the street for any sign of the Moon. It’s been 11 days since anyone has seen Taehyung, and you’re really starting to worry about him. 

“Did you check his planet?” You ask.

“He’s not there.” You turn to look at him, ready to ask if he checked the whole planet, but Jimin is 2 steps ahead of you, “I checked both sides.”

“Dammit!” You curse. You raise your hand to hold onto the shining necklace he’d bought you on your outing. You haven’t taken it off since he put it on you, and you’ve found yourself holding onto it to ground you when your strings start to pull you. “Please keep me updated.”

“Yeah…” Jimin looks you over. You’re nervous. Which is strange because the only emotion you ever usually show is anger. He’s seen plenty of humans act this way, and you seem to be genuinely worried about Taehyung. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Is that a problem?” You ask, glaring at him. 

He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I didn’t peg you for someone with emotions.”

You sigh, “You’ve never had any reason to.” You sit down in your chair and lean back, “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“I don’t think it was all that bad. I got to expand my knowledge of humans, experience their cultures, and their unique qualities.” He explains, “Even the pleasurable ones.”

You close your eyes and choose to ignore that last part, “Well, at least you had something good come from it.”

“Hey-” He gets your attention, “I deserved it. You don’t have to regret it. Just promise me you’ll make this up to Taehyung.”

“I will.” You promise.

Jimin nods in approval and turns to leave. On his way out, he bumps into Yoongi, “Well, hello Yoongi~”

“Hi Jimin.” Life greets, unamused by his presence.

You wait for Jimin to leave before you sit up and get to business, “Have you found him?”

“Which one?”

“Taehyung.”

“No.” Your shoulders fall and Yoongi sighs. He sits down across from you, “Give him some time to process this.”

You shake your head, “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

“You did the right thing.” He assures you.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Just hold out a little longer.” 

“Fine.” You agree. Yoongi has never steered you wrong, so you don’t see why he would now. Holding out a bit more hope won’t hurt you.

“Hoseok and I are almost ready, by the way.” He adds.

“And you’re sure it’ll work?” You ask. Yoongi shrugs, not a very good sign for what you have planned. “Yoongi!”

“There’s a first time for everything!” He argues, “We put our faith in you, now you do the same.”

You really don’t want to chance this blowing up in your face - you know Seowoo would never let you hear the end of it - but this may be the only way to fix everything. You can only hope Yoongi and Hoseok can actually pull it off, “Please don’t make me regret this.”

Yoongi seems to be able to read you mind, “I don’t want to deal with Seowoo just as much as you don’t want to.”

A knock comes from the door, “Excuse me?” Both you and Yoongi turn to see Seokjin standing in your doorway. He seems very apologetic as he looks between the both of you, “Sorry to interrupt, but I was told to come and see you.”

“No problem at all! We’re just finishing up.” You assure the human.

Yoongi stands and brushes off his pants, “I’ll let you know what happens later.” He says goodbye to Seokjin and the greeter bows as he leaves. 

“Have a seat, Seokjin.” You offer, pointing to the chair in front of you. He accepts your offer and you pull open your desk drawer to grab the file you made specifically for him, “I just wanted to start off by saying thank you so much for continuing to be such a hard worker. Every time I see you, you’re engaging our patrons with a smile on your face, and I have received numerous compliments from others about what a wonderful greeter I have at my front door.”

He smiles, “Thank you, ma’am. I really try my best to make our guests happy and feel welcome.”

He’s so humble, and that’s one of the things you like the most about him, “I know, and that’s why I wanted to offer a promotion to you.”

“A promotion?”

“You’ve worked well with us for a few years now, I think a promotion is appropriate. You’re very familiar with Ms. Kang, yes?” You ask, knowing very well that he knows his supervisor.

“Of course! She’s a wonderful supervisor.”

“Well, she wants to retire, and I want you to fill her role.” You explain, “You’re still more than welcome to maintain your position as a greeter with your promotion, but entrance maintenance and customer satisfaction will be left to you.”

“Oh wow...I don’t know what to say.” He admits, taking in the new information.

You nod in understanding, “I don’t need an answer now. Her retirement is a few months away, but I want to put it on the table.”

“Yes! Of course! Thank you!” He struggles to find the right words to express his gratitude, “I would love to take over when she steps down!”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You hand him the file you made, all of the information he’ll be needing tucked away inside, “You’ll be working closely with our curators and our security, so I would start to build those relationships if you haven’t already. But I’m sure you already have.”

He nods, “Yes, ma’am. I’m good friends with a lot of the museum staff.”

“If you need someone to help you, check with Kim Taehyung. He’s very much a people person.” You suggest.

“I will!” He agrees, “I know he’s not here today, but I’ll ask him when he’s done at the river.”

“The river?” You ask.

“He called in again today. He said he hasn’t been feeling himself.” Seokjin explains, “I sent him a text just to check in and he said he just needed some time to think in his favorite spot. His favorite spot is by the river.”

“Yes. I see.” You hum. As much as you’d like to continue your conversation with him, you want - more than anything - to go find Taehyung and talk to him. You fake checking your watch and smile, “I look forward to seeing how you grow, Seokjin, but I’m afraid I need to be on my way to a meeting with a few sponsors.”

“Of course!” He stands and so do you, extending a hand to congratulate him. “Thank you again for this opportunity.”

You nod, “Anything I can do.”

He leaves and you quickly pack your things, walking out of the building to keep up appearances. You make it around the corner to a section of sidewalk completely unlit by streetlights before you travel to the river in search of the moon god. The last time he was here, he’d caused havoc and quite literally trashed whatever was in his path. Your hope is that you’ll find him exactly where you had last time.

You don’t see him in the grass when you first pass by, but taking a second look, you do find him with the water up to his chest and his legs floating in front of him. His eyes are closed and he looks to have blocked out everything around him. He just lays in the quiet, in the water, under the stars.

“Taehyung…” You approach him slowly, coming to the edge of the water, and hesitantly taking a seat. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, “If you’re not careful, then you’ll drift away.”

He sighs, “I’d rather drift away than feel nothing anymore.”

You don’t know what to say to that. He’s in mourning, and you understand that this all must be hard for him. Especially dealing with a loss for a second time. You want to comfort him, but comfort isn’t something you really know how to do.

Of course, Taehyung knows you don’t know what comfort is. That’s all he’s been able to think about since that night at the museum. You tried so hard to keep him away from what was happening to protect him, and he refused to listen. You weren’t lying when you said you were doing what was best for him. 

You weren’t lying about a lot of things.

“Why am I cursed to be the moon? Why must I be so lonely and powerless compared to others?” He asks aloud. You don’t have an answer, and he doesn’t expect one, “Dwarf planets aren’t required to stay with their planets, they don’t require attention. So, why do I have to stay with mine when I have nothing to offer?”

“I don’t know...”

“I’m just the Moon. There’s nothing special about me. I’m just a hopeless romantic ruining the lives of others for my own personal enjoyment.” He’s defeated. He tried so hard. He did everything he possibly could and it still wasn’t enough. “I’m the exact thing I told you I wasn’t.”

Of course, you’ve known how this would inevitably end from the beginning. Whether you were on his side from the start or not, you knew that trying to bring Eunha and Namjoon would end in goodbye for everyone. Of course, there were multiple bad and good outcomes, but this was luckily one of the better ones.

Is he a hopeless romantic? The biggest one you’ve ever seen. 

But was he wrong? You’re not entirely sure. However, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Taehyung deserves to know the truth.

He deserves to know everything.

“That first time you tried to bring them together-” He turns his head to look at you, “Namjoon still would have died from sickness. It wouldn’t have gone away.” You’d hoped that maybe for once, you wouldn’t be right. If you were lucky, then his necklace would work and he’d feel proud and he’d go home. But you couldn’t let it work just for Namjoon to die. “That’s why I sent the guards in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I thought that if I told you then, that you would’ve tried again.” You say. Thinking about it makes you laugh considering where you are now, “I guess you would’ve tried anyways.”

He sits up in the water and scoots back, “Yeah...I probably would have.”

“Do you remember when Namjoon died and I came to present you to the counsel?” You ask. He nods, “You told me that maybe if I had an ounce of compassion that people would like me better?”

“Yeah...” He had said that to you. It was out of anger and sorrow, and he never did get the chance to apologize for it.

“I think I’d like myself better too.” You admit, “When I was younger and more naive, I always thought I could pull my strings how I pleased. I thought I could do whatever I wanted, and that ended with ruined lives and the deaths of thousands.”

“You? Ruining lives and causing death?” He asks, almost in disbelief.

You nod, “Hui had to stop me before it got too bad, and he introduced me to Hoseok and Yoongi. He had us learn together how to keep balance, and he told me that I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up with one measly human or I’d never treat any of them fairly.” He was right in a way, but he himself has grown more too. “That’s why I’ve been so terrible.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “You’ve been doing your job.”

You scoff, “Some job I have.”

“No one ever said it was easy to do what you do.” He says. You’re shocked to say the least, he’s the last person you would have expected to back you up. But he’s had time to think everything over. “I shouldn’t have said it was. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“We all have to learn. It’d be easier if it stuck quicker for some.” You tease, earning a laugh from the Moon. He didn’t pick up on the severity of the situation quite as quickly, but maybe he would have if you had been more honest with him. “Actually, you’re familiar with Seokjin, right?”

“Of course! He’s a good friend.”

“He’s one of the first and last strings I ever knotted.”

“Wait, really?” You nod, “Is that why he can never keep a date?”

“It was very early on, humanity had just been created and I was figuring everything out. At the time, I was much more compassionate towards humans.” You explain. You were very much like Taehyung when you first started, but you didn’t stay like that for long. “He liked this girl, and I thought if I just pulled a few strings then they would come together and live happy for the rest of their lives, but-”

He gasps, “Their strings knotted.”

“I tried to fix it. I thought I could tie them back together, but I couldn’t.” You still remember watching Seokjin say goodbye to his destined lover. He was devastated and it was all your fault. He hasn’t run into them since, and you don’t know that he ever will. “I ruined their lives because I couldn’t do my job.”

“You did what you thought was right.” Taehyung assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You smile, “So did you.” You lean against his side and rest your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung rests his head on top of yours and sighs, “What are we going to do about Eunha?” 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He asks, surprised, “But she knows.”

“She won’t tell. She’s too busy mourning to worry herself over us.” You seriously doubt she’ll risk telling everyone about the two of you. But still, everything she’s going through right now can’t be easy. “I guess it really isn’t easy to be in love.”

“Love?”

“Love.”

~ Read: Finale ~

[littlemisssquiggles]

Pinehead Headcanons: Oscar the Wandering Soul

As a continuation from my last Pinehead Headcanon regarding the Dreamscape and the Garden of Two Lovers, I recently thought of another alternative to this concept of Oscar connecting to Ruby in the Other World through his dreams.

Imagine if…whenever Oscar goes to sleep, his soul is able to somehow traverse between Remnant and the Other World due to either the mysterious workings of the magic he inherited as Ozma’s successor or perhaps some other new ability that he unknowingly taps into while in sleep?

However in the Other World, Oscar appears only as a wandering spirit in this world or rather an astral projection of himself since he is only connecting to the Other World in his dreams while his actual body remains back in Remnant inside Vacuo Kingdom.

Therefore, despite instantly locating the missing Ruby Rose on the island in the Other World using his connection to her, Oscar is unfortunately able to interact with the little red rose physically due to him being in astral form.

With this thought in mind, hear me out on this one folks.

I have this small hunch where Ruby will end up mostly alone in the Other World; completely separated from the others. The only other known person closest to Ruby is Neo but since Neo is still hell-bent on killing her to avenge Torchwick’s death, she still acts more as an antagonist to the vulnerable Ruby than a legit companion.

So it’s a scenario where Ruby is mostly on her own in this strange Other world without any knowledge of where exactly she was, where her friends could be or even if they were still alive since the island was still very much a mystery to her.

So let’s say, after a few days of traveling through the island by herself (or rather what feels like daysconsidering that there was no real sense of time in the mysterious Other World either as far as Ruby know), Ruby slowly starts to succumb to her feelings of loneliness and fears of not only never seeing her friends ever again but also never returning home to Remnant.

“…She’s brushed off her bumps and bruises; but nothing hurt worse than the loneliness in her chest…”

I have this idea where when Astral Oscarfirst discovers Ruby, he finds her alone by the seashore, lamenting to herself, wishing out loud to be with her loved ones once more.

I have this idea where when Astral Oscar first discovers Ruby, he finds her alone by the seashore, lamenting to herself, wishing out loud to be with her loved ones once more.

For the sake of comedy, I also had this idea of Ruby, in her lonely state, fashioning replicas of all of her friends out of wood and strange fruits and vegetables---if you’d call them that--- she discovered while wandering the island which she pretended to talk to whenever the pain of solitude got the better of her.

There was even a fruitsona of Oscar who Ruby made out of a strange pumpkin-like fruit or vegetable that she found, claiming it reminded her of him due to its small size, green and orange colour and spots which reminded Ruby of Oscar’s freckled cheeks.

Let’s say …that Ruby liked to talk to Pumpkin Oscar the most out of her fruit friends mainly because the last time Ruby felt that lonely, it was Oscar’s words that helped her through it referring back to their shared moment in the dojo scene back in V5.

Let’s say…in this scene, Ruby finally breaks under the weight of her solitude and starts crying in front of Pumpkin Oscar, wishing out loud that the real Oscar was there with her to help her through this moment again and to offer her some wisdom on what to do.

But little did Ruby know, Oscar was there. Appearing before her in astral form. And let’s say it’s a case where even as a “ghost” or “wandering soul”, Oscar still attempts to connect to Ruby somehow---reaching out to her like her always did whenever she was in distress; hoping to make a meaningful link that would aid her and quell her fears.

And…little would Oscar know, he would be able to connect to Ruby in a manner that he’d never expected with his newfound power.

Alright, REALLY hear me out with this one. There are two ideas I can see spawning from the concept of Astral or Wandering Soul Oscar.

One version is Oscar taking possession of an inanimate object that’s close to Ruby and using it as a means of communicating with her whenever he visits the Other World in his dreams. There is a reason why I mentioned Pumpkin Oscar.

Ya’ll remember the Oz character Jack Pumpkinhead, right? Jack Pumpkinhead is an inanimate character with a pumpkin for a head and a skinny figure made of tree limbs and jointed with wooden pegs. Jack was made by Tip, the little boy who was eventually reveled to be Princess Ozma---the true ruler of Oz.

You might also recall that this squiggle meister has been advocating for a version of Jack or at least a reference to him to show up in RWBY, right?

To make a long theory short, imagine if…we got a nice little nod to Jack Pumpkinhead by having his RWBY equivalent be a pumpkin-headed body of sticks and twigs made by a lonely Ruby to represent her friend Oscar while alone on the island in the Other World and this very same pumpkin creation ends up providing a “body” for an Astral Oscar to project himself into and use to talk with Ruby in the Other World.

Basically what I’m saying here is---in the Other World, Oscar becomes Pumpkinhead and in this form, he travels with Ruby on the island and helps her find their friends.

However, meanwhile back in the real world in Remnant, Oscar’s actual body is more or less stuck in an almost comatose state which unfortunately has his friends in Vacuo---Emerald, Ren and Nora all extremely worried for him since as far as they knew, Oscar went to sleep and just never woke up.

While the little prince is technically NOT dead since his wandering soul is off on an adventure helping Ruby in the Other World but for the most, his allies on the other side aren’t aware of this. At least, not until Oscar eventually does wake up to blissfully inform the others of his time in the dreamland--- that he knew exactly where their missing comrades were since with Ruby’s help, he found them all in his dreams in another world beyond Remnant---as ridiculously outlandish and farfetched as that might sound coming from a kid with two souls.

Just picture a scene where Oscar is retelling his adventures in the Other World with Ren, Emerald and Nora AFTER being asleep for some like a few days in Remnant’s time and all three of him ogling him like he’d gone mad while unconscious. Although Ren is willing to entertain the possibility of Oscar’s “findings” being just, not just because it’s coming from Oscar---the magical kid with literally two souls--- but also because he can tell that Oscar wasn’t lying to them based on his semblance. So it’s a scene like that however Nora and Emerald are still more than a little apprehensive.

But as I said before, this is just one idea I have based on the Astral Oscar concept.

The other version is Astral Oscar ending up inside Ruby’s head. So basically, picture a scenario where Oscar is Ruby’s companion in another world but instead of being there with her physically or possessing an inanimate object, he mainly becomes another voice inside of her head; guiding her as best as he could.

It’s pretty much a case where Oscar gets a little taste of what Oz was experiencing while sharing his body with him, so to speak in a sense. In a desperate attempt to connect to Ruby while in astral form, Oscar unintentionally ends up inside of Ruby’s body or at least her head and that’s how they’re able to know of the other’s presence and thus talk to each other while in the Other World.

I’m not saying that Oscar is able to take possession of Ruby’s body (since her body is hers and he’s not trying to be that kind of “ghost” since he of all people understands what it’s like to have your body being taken over by another intruding soul without your consent and all that jazz). I more like it in the realm of him just communicating with Ruby mentally since he connected his wandering spirit to hers. And at the same time, Oscar is able to feel Ruby’s true emotions and unbeknownst to him, she can also feel his while he’s inside of her head. So the two are able to bond with each other a lot closely as friends and understand one another in ways they never did before.

So just picture Ruby traversing through the Other World, talking with Oscar as the other voice inside of her head that only she can hear since it’s her soul that he’s made contact with. But it’s also a case where Oscar doesn’t really have full control over his newfound power since he isn’t quite sure how it works or how he even unlocked it in the first place. Is it even a semblance or a result of magic? Oscar isn’t sure.

So while Oscar is grateful for finding Ruby; at the same time, he isn’t sure how he even got to the Other World in the first place outside of going to sleep back in Vacuo and suddenly waking up as a wandering soul in ghost form there. The poor boy also isn’t sure on how he will return to his body in Remnant but naturally, he eventually does figure this out and it becomes a scenario where Oscar hops back and forth between Remnant and the Other World.

On one end, he connects to Ruby in the Other World in his sleep, informing her of all that’s happening back in Remnant with Salem and safeguarding the last two relics from her particularly the Sword of Destruction which was being housed in their current location in Vacuo.

And on the other hand, when Oscar is awake, he reiterates his findings from the Other World from his time with Ruby with their friends in Remnant while working on their end to find a way to bring the others back home to Remnant.

I just really love the concept of Oscar being the link for his friends between two worlds. I like the idea of our boy becoming the key to helping Ruby and the others get back to Remnant. And I love the idea of him being able to do so through a unique power that only he has and shares with his rose.

I know the idea of Oscar connecting to Ruby as a wandering soul and talking to her in her mind while in his dreams sounds like a stretch. Still nevertheless, I really dig this idea and while I doubt it’ll become canon in any shape or form for V9, as always, it’s still worth tossing out to my ever-growing table of possibilities and headcanons.

Besides, I wanted to amuse myself with the thought of Oscar talking to Ruby in her head in his wandering soul form and there’s this initial apprehension where the little prince is worried that his rose might have the same annoyed reaction to his presence that he once gave Oz back in V4.

However to Oscar’s surprise, Ruby is surprisingly enthusiastic about having him share her mind with her and is more than welcoming of him being there since…Ruby trusts Oscar and after walking the Other World alone, she’s happier to just have someone she knows and likes there with her as opposed to being on her own. That way, it doesn’t feel as lonely as it did before.

This is also a callback to V5CH3 when Oscar first told RNJR about him sharing a body with Oz and Ruby reacting more enthusiastically to the idea of a person with two souls than anything else which I always found to be adorably sweet of her.

She looked so intrigued by Oscar. I always liked that detail from when the Rosegarden pair first met since Ruby's enthusiasm of Oscar mirrored his enthralled expression at meeting her for the first time and seeing someone like her with silver eyes.

I just think it’d be neat to see some Oscar and Ruby mental conversations---both the comical kind with shenanigans on Ruby’s part and the deep and thoughtful kind where, because they share such a unique bond with only each other, the two smaller, most honest souls can understand each other a lot more than before since now they were connected spirituallyin a sense.

Perhaps while connected to Ruby mentally in astral form, Ruby can sense Oscar’s apprehension of the Merge just as much as he can feel her loneliness and pain over feeling like she’d failed her friends yet again (particularly Penny’s whose death she’d missed and failed to stop yet again).

Maybe it’s a scenario where Oscar doesn’t even want to return to Remnant---where the little prince would much rather face the consequences of never waking up again in the real world and thus remain a wandering soul forever as opposed to the latter of waking up as someone else. For at least as a wandering soul---as a ghost---Oscar would at least get to be himself. A dark thought that concerned Ruby and could even spark a conversation between them on this topic.

As we know from the events of V8, Oscar is very apprehensive of the Merge. Neither he nor Oz wants it to happen. Although I’d like to believe that Oz’s own uneasiness stems from him being fully aware of Oscar’s true feelings and reluctance. Personally if there is one other character I’d love to see learn of Oscar’s fears of the Merge and even help him through it, it’s Ruby.

As the audience, we’ve already seen Oscar discuss the Merge with Oz twice for V8. Now what I’d love to see is Oscar sharing his fears with someone else he deeply trusts and I’d still love to believe that that character is Ruby.

Buuuuuuuuuuuut…like I said, this is all just a concept. Who knows what V9 will bring for the little prince and his true rose? At least in the meantime, I can amuse myself on more ideas derived from this one headcanon of mine.

I think Oscar becoming a wandering soul in the Other World where he connects with his rose sounds pretty cool especially the part where the two grow and help each other emotionally on their journey together before finally reuniting for real in their home of Remnant.

I especially like the idea of Oscar connecting to Ruby inside her mind and talking to her as another voice inside her head since I think it could be an interesting new way to further cultivate their bond and help it to blossom into something very meaningful to them both.

Not necessarily as a romance but…still something strong and unique only to them and their shared bond, y’know what I mean?

But again, that's just moi.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2021)

[rejectofsociety]

Febuwhump: Day Twenty

Prompt: Betrayal

Summary: Peter and Quentin have always worked so, so hard for Tony and Stark Industries. They just wish he was more appreciative. — not your typical tale of betrayal 

Word Count: 2570

Warnings: not for IronDad lovers

Written for: @febuwhump 

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Peter scrolled through the endless lines of code, his reddened and exhausted eyes struggling to stay open as he squinted at the screen. He was dizzy and lightheaded, his stomach growled hungrily, and his back was aching horribly. Frustration fogged up his head and his jaw was painfully tense— he hadn’t moved since becoming obsessed with the task at hand the day before.

“You’re still here?” Quentin spoke from behind him, “I thought you went home.”

Peter tore his eyes away from the screen and looked at his work partner, “I was gonna go home, but I can’t find the bug in the code. Something’s glitching real bad.”

Quentin sighed and rested his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “take a break and let me take a look.”

“No, I got it,” Peter assured.

“Peter, that’s an order,” he stated.

Peter heaved a sigh then nodded, “thank you, Quentin.”

“Anytime. You can take a nap on the couch if you want.”

He bobbed his head again then stood up wearily, Quentin taking his place at the desk.

The two had been working tirelessly to get their holographic technology done by its due date. It needed to be tested countless times and given the “stamp of approval” before it could be presented to the public. Their boss, Tony, checked in from time to time, always checking their progress and adding to their lengthy to-do list. Quentin had been working on the project since he first earned his Stark Industries internship at a surprisingly young age and had dreamed about it even longer. He was the mastermind behind the whole operation and Peter had started tagging along a few years ago when he gained his internship. Like Quentin, he had been rather young when he became an intern which may have been one of the reasons the two got along so well— they had a lot in common, including being under appreciated by their boss.

“Hey, get up,” Tony barked, making Peter jolt awake. Then he looked back at Quentin, “do you seriously let him sleep on the job?”

“He hasn’t slept in-“

“It was my fault, sir,” Peter groggily interrupted, “I’ve been slacking lately.”

“Get some coffee and get back to work,” Tony ordered.

“Yessir,” Peter sighed and stood up.

Tony eyed Peter for a moment and frowned, “kid, you look like trash, everything okay?”

I’m overworked, underpaid, and you’re my boss— nothing is okay, Peter thought bitterly but forced himself to smile slightly, “everything’s fine, Mister Stark. Just a little tired.”

With that, he quickly left Quentin’s lab with his head down as he mentally cursed himself for getting caught napping. That was an easy way to lose his job.

Peter pulled out his phone as he waited for his coffee to be ready. There were three texts awaiting his attention: one from Ned, one from Aunt May, and one from Michelle.

-

May: I know your work is important, but don’t forget to take care of yourself ❤️

Ned: are we still on for lunch today?

MJ: where are you?

-

Peter sighed softly, texted his reassurance to May, regretfully canceled his plans with Ned, then clicked on Michelle’s contact and called her. If he remembered her schedule properly, she didn’t have any classes at the moment and wouldn’t have any for the next forty to thirty minutes.

“Peter, you bailed on our date,” Michelle stated when she picked up the phone, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-“

“You would’ve been at the restaurant if nothing’s wrong.”

“I had to stay late at work, there was a bug in the system and-“ he sighed heavily, “baby, I’m so sorry I missed our date, I was really looking forward to it. But Quentin and I are so, so close to finishing this project, it’s driving my fucking crazy.”

“You two have been working on that one ever since I met you,” Michelle observed, “can I see it when you finish?”

“Yes!” Peter agreed excitedly, “I would love for you to see it. Ned and May can come too.”

“That’d be nice... are we ever going to reschedule that date or...”

“Um,” he tapped his toes thoughtfully, “we’ll probably have to wait until Quentin and I finish this up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she hesitated before continuing, “I gotta go. Call me later?”

“First chance I get.”

“Good. I love you, Peter.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Peter sighed and hung up. Both he and Quentin had been pouring their hearts and souls into this invention, neglecting relationships with friends, family, and partners in the process. It would be worth it in the end, it had to be worth it.

Before pocketing his phone, Peter caught a glimpse at a text from Quentin.

-

Quentin: make sure to get something to eat. I don’t think you ate anything yesterday

-

Peter smiled softly then looked up when his name was called for the order: an espresso for himself and an iced coffee for Quentin. He hadn’t asked for coffee, but he knew him well enough that he would love an iced coffee right about now.

“Is that all, sir?” The barista asked.

“Two bagels would be nice, please,” Peter requested.

“Plain?”

“Yes please.”

“Alright—“ she fetched two bagels for him, “—here you go.”

He thanked her briefly then hurried back to Quentin’s lab. Guilt towards missing his date with Michelle made his stomach twist into awkward knots. I’m not doing that again, Peter mentally promised, I have to finish this soon. It’s not fair to MJ or Ned that I keep having to cancel plans with them to work on this. But I feel like we’re so close! And they were, they were so painfully close to finishing this project they could practically feel victory brushing their fingertips. What would really make the experience whole was when Tony presented the Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing to the world which would stare in awe at the invention. They would look up at it and know that Quentin and Peter made that— it was theirs and now they finally got to share it with the world.

“Did you find the bug?” Peter asked as he arrived at Quentin’s side and set the coffee and bagel down next to him.

“Thank you,” Quentin briefly took a sip of the coffee before answering, “there wasn’t actually a bug.”

“Wait- what? How? I-“

“It was a missing line of code,” he explained then tapped the screen with one finger, “right here.”

“Oh, geez,” he rubbed his eyes with one hand, “I feel like an idiot now.”

“Don’t. No one is capable of functioning properly when they’re dehydrated, hungry, and running on an hour of sleep,” he assured, “now take a seat, please.”

Peter pulled up a chair next to Quentin and took a sip of espresso. The two got right to work with perfecting their creation.

Peter was undoubtedly the best work partner Quentin could have possibly asked for. He was obedient, freakishly smart, observant, he could go on forever with praises to be honest but, most importantly, the boy was always willing to learn and take criticism. That alone was the one reason Quentin allowed Peter anywhere near their project. He had originally planned to lone it and was actually pissed off when Tony introduced the young intern to him as a work partner, but Peter quickly proved himself and Quentin was more than happy to take him under his wing.

Years later, here they were— not just colleagues, but close friends who would work until their dying breath to finish their damned project.

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

Many months later, the day had finally come. Quentin and Peter’s project that had eaten up the past several years of their lives was now about to be presented by Tony Stark himself. The two inventors were practically trembling with excitement backstage as Tony’s presentation began.

Pride and joy swelled up inside Peter’s chest as he took in the beauty of the Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. Six years of missed dates, skipped meals, broken promises, and neglecting self-care all for this creation which was now magnificently brought to life. It was almost like watching a child walk for the first time or speak its first words. And how could he forget the reaction of his loved ones! The way their eyes sparkled like diamonds with wonder and awe while May hugged and praised her niece, and Peter had implored that Quentin got all the credit as Quentin insisted he couldn’t have done it without his trusty partner, and Ned had fangirled for minutes on end before he could even properly spit out a coherent sentence, and Michelle beamed at her boyfriend with undeniable delight in her eyes. Peter wished he could have shown the entire world how joyous and full of wonder his girlfriend was in that moment. She had never seen anything that even remotely resembled his and Quentin’s hard work— no one had! It was completely knew to the world. Even Tony had praised the two! And now here Peter was, backstage with Quentin by his side as the students of MIT were seconds away from being the first public audience to set eyes on their glorious project.

Peter had been so caught up in the euphoria of his thoughts, that he had momentarily gone blind to the world around him. But, when he awoke, time seemed to be halted by four little words leaving Tony’s mouth as he enchanted the student audience.

“... my little therapeutic experiment...”

Peter seemed to jolt to life at those words, and not in a pleasant way. For a moment, he was certain he had imagined the statement.

“Quentin—“ Peter looked at his partner, who’s jaw was tight as he scowled at Tony, “—did... did he just call our project his ‘little therapeutic experiment,’ or have I completely lost my shit?”

“Oh, he said that alright,” Quentin replied, hardly seeming to process the moment himself, “and he named it B.A.R.F.”

Peter tore his eyes away and stared at the ground as he processed the moment. Maybe it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did- no. No, this was a perfectly justifiable sense of betrayal. Because with four little words, Tony had swiped Peter’s greatest accomplishment right out of his hands. The billionaire had claimed Peter and Quentin’s life’s work and belittled it into something as simple and insignificant as a little therapeutic experiment.

For the rest of the brief presentation, Peter strained his ears and silently begged to hear his and Quentin’s names— Quentin’s at least. He needed anything at all just to acknowledge that Quentin Beck and Peter Parker were the inventors of the masterpiece that Tony presented as if it were his own. But, no! Tony ended his presentation and was met with thunderous applause while never having said their names once— it was as if he had completely forgotten about their existence.

“Let’s go, Peter,” Quentin hissed as he whirled around.

Peter didn’t bother commenting and followed his mentor, both equally matched in anger. No one seemed to notice the two inventors as they stormed out of the facility, their heads fogged with fury. The moment they were out the exit, Peter practically exploded.

“He didn’t say your name once! Not once!” He cried, “did he forget?!”

“No, he doesn’t care,” Quentin snapped as he got into the driver’s seat of his car and Peter joined him in the passenger’s seat, “to Tony, we’re just the elves in his toy shop. He doesn’t give a shit about us.”

Peter huffed, his entire body hot and rushing with anger, “this isn’t over, Quentin. Tomorrow we’re gonna shred his ass for this.”

“Why tomorrow?” Quentin asked as he drove away, “why not today? We have time.”

“Because today, I need two things: a drink and a designated driver.”

Quentin nodded and started on a route to the nearest bar, “I think you got the right idea, kid.”

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

“Whatever you two want, make it quick,” Tony demanded tiredly the next day when his two employees stood in his office. “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“I just wanted to say you gave a pretty great presentation yesterday,” Quentin began passively while Peter stood like a stern statue at his side. “Except... I think you might have forgotten something.”

Tony furrowed his brow, “I don’t think- what did I forget?”

Quentin rested his hands on the desk and leaned forward slightly with a harsh glower, “the mother fuckers who made it possible.”

Tony stood up and took a step back, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Peter and I made that Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing technology,” he clarified, disgusted that Tony seemed so confused, “and you didn’t even bother to mention us. You called it your experiment!”

“And?”

“And it’s not! It’s not yours. It’s ours— Quentin and Peter’s— life work. I have been busting my ass off since day one for this! And the night you present it to the world, you forget my fucking name!” Quentin barked.

“What do you want me to do?!” Tony shot back, rapidly growing defensive.

“I want my tech to be branded with my name. Not yours! You get all the recognition you could ever want— not because you’ve worked for it, but because you have the money for it! Have you ever once thought about the people like Peter and I? We work our asses off, we neglect relationships, we go days without sleep, we break our promises, we fucking ruin ourselves for year! Years, Tony! And our names never see the light of day!” He ranted, “don’t you think we deserve at least and ounce of respect and recognition?”

Tony was quiet a moment, glaring a stone cold glare into Quentin’s furious gaze. Peter stared hostilely at his boss, never once moving or interjecting— Quentin had taken the words right out of his mouth.

“And what about you, kid,” Tony inquired, “what do you think?”

“With all disrespect,” he said, “I completely agree with him. You don’t give a flying fuck about us and we’re sick of it.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He had too much on his hands to deal with two upset employees at the moment.

“You’re both incredibly unstable,” he declared, “you’re fired.”

“What?” Peter and Quentin spoke in unison.

“You heard me,” he repeated impatiently, “you’re fired. Both of you get your shit out of your lab and get out!”

Peter actually managed an amused smirk and bitter laugh, “gladly. Let’s go, Quentin.”

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

“Man, I’m pissed that he fired us,” Peter said a while later as the two lounged in Quentin’s living room, “but it was so satisfying to hear you yell at him, I almost don’t care. At least not right now.”

Quentin smiled slightly and took a sip of beer, “at least you can focus on your girlfriend now.”

Peter nodded, “yeah...” his voice trailed off then his eyes lit up, “Quentin, Tony hit us hard and where it hurt— he honestly betrayed what little trust we gave him. And I wanna hit him back, and I wanna hit him hard.”

This caught Quentin’s attention and he sat up and leaned forward, “absolutely.”

The two went quiet and their minds raced with one idea after another, their thirst for revenge driving their every move. Peter wrung his hands together and bounced his knee as he came up with lists of possibilities.

For the past several hours, since having their tech swept away from them, the two had been simultaneously furious and depressed with defeat. Now, they were hungry for a victory and it wouldn’t take them long to figure out exactly how they’d get there.

“Tony thinks we’re unstable?” Peter muttered to himself with a mischievous smirk, “I’ll show him what unstable really means.”

[ltleflrt]

Ltleflrt’s Writing Year In Review

I say this every year, but I wish I’d written more lol.  On the other hand, I thought I was probably done writing Destiel early in the year and thought I’d go into writing hibernation until a new fandom or pairing poked my muse in the ass with a sharp stick, BUT I ended up writing a whole ‘nother goddamn 100k+ fic!  So I’m thrilled af about that XD

Total 2020 Word Count: 164,013 Estimated 2020 Kudos: 1,846 Estimated 2020 Hits: 32,193

My 2020 Fics:

Hunter’s Caress: 161,095 (18,866 written in 2020)

Castiel Jameson won’t rest until the outlaw who murdered his brother faces justice, and Dean Winchester is the only man alive who can help him track the villain down. Some say Winchester is a cold-blooded killer himself; others say he’d been wronged his whole life. All Castiel knows is that the desire glinting in Dean’s green eyes is even more dangerous than he is. Castiel fights to keep his mind on business, but during the long nights on the trail with the dangerously handsome hunter he finds himself dreaming of yielding to Dean’s illicit kisses and losing himself in lawless passion.

Dean Winchester is about to hang when Castiel saves his neck with his crazy plan. But dying might be better than spending day and night playing nursemaid to such an infuriating city slicker. He appreciates the stubborn detective’s desire for justice, but he’d appreciate Cas a lot more if he’d stop being a lawman long enough to just be a man. He certainly has all the right equipment. Dean aches to run his fingers through Castiel’s dark hair, yearns to know how Castiel’s golden skin will feel against him. And before the coming of the next dawn, Dean vows to teach him the pleasures and sweet rewards of a Hunter’s Caress.

Most of this was written in 2019, which is why my Kudos and Hits are estimated, since a lot of that came from Hunter’s Caress. 

I learned so much from this project.  It’s based on a favorite book that I read for the first time when I was 11 years old, and have re-read probably twenty times since then.  Since I had the book open for reference most of the time I was working on this story, I got to compare my writing to a professional.  And y’all know what I think?  I’m kinda better at this than they are?  Not on the story creation front, because I consider Desperado’s Caress one of the best romance adventures I’ve ever read, but on the technical side of things.  Looking at the book with the eyes of a writer, with a little bit of editing experience under my belt now too, I’m just like... this is kind of a mess?  It was actually quite a boost to my ego lol

The Thing About Heaven Is...: 2,363 words

The thing about Heaven is that even though Dean has been here before, this time he’s taking the time to enjoy the experience, and things are a lot different than he expected.

I put a note on this fic that I didn’t hate the SPN Finale, even though I didn’t love it either, but I was being generous because sometimes I’ll remember what we got and I’m filled with rage.  I wake up in the middle of the night and think of all the ways it could have been better, and lose hours of sleep.  I spend far too much time yelling at Jared in my head for talking it up, and also at the imaginary C*W that lives in my head that gets to hear me ranting about how they fucked up so bad at least once a day. 

When I say that I didn’t hate the ending, what I really mean is that Dean going to Heaven first while Sam spends time back on Earth was kinda what I was expecting, so those 2 events are not bad in themselves, but the execution and the lack of Castiel on screen completely ruined it for me.

But that’s what fix it fic is for, right?  I decided to set my fix it fic post 15x20, because I know more invested and skilled writers who enjoy writing canonverse are going to give us hundreds of post 15x18 goodness, so I’ll let them do that while I work with what we got.  This was what gave me catharsis, and even though I’m never going to watch that train wreck of an episode ever again (seriously, I want to rage scream that the last “good” episode was by Bucklemming), I feel like I can come back to this fic again someday and feel some peace when I read it.

Man in the Wilderness: 142,784

As a veteran, Dean has survived more than most people could handle without going completely cuckoo. And he hasn't exactly escaped being a little messed up himself. So he's returned home to the tiny town he grew up in, retreating from a world that has become too much. But when you know everyone in town, the dating pool is shallow and it can be a little bit lonely, even when surrounded by friends and family who love him. And then a drifter on a motorcycle rolls into town, and Dean thinks just maybe this might be the man he's been waiting for.

While wandering the country in an attempt to escape his problems, Castiel's motorcycle breaks down in a small desert town. He's helplessly drawn to Dean, the town's handsome mechanic, and the feeling appears to be mutual. After months of aimless traveling, he thinks he may have finally found his way out of the wilderness.

Technically as of today this is still a WIP on AO3, but I finished the last chapter a few hours ago, so I’m counting the words in my WIP folder too lol

This was a surprise!  It’s a SPN/Destiel rewrite of my Mass Effect/mShenko fic Feels Like Home, which is the first story I ever wrote that made me feel like a popular writer.  Early this year I was brainstorming ideas for a fic where Castiel was the mechanic instead of Dean, and I jokingly said to @jupiterjames that I should do Feels Like Home, with Castiel as the mechanic.  She was enthusiastic about it, but I just laughed it off at first because what a silly idea.  Then I started poking at it.  Like a bruise.  Couldn’t stop.

Obviously I dropped the Mechanic!Cas angle, because it didn’t feel right for the story.  But as soon as I thought y’know, what if it was Mechanic!Dean and Drifter!Cas my muse came roaring awake screaming DO IT DO IT DO IT.

So I did.  And it was even more of a learning experience than writing Hunter’s Caress!  Because now I’m seeing my older writing (7 years holy shit!!), and I’m seeing all the ways I’ve improved over the better part of a decade, and finding even more ways to improve as I go through the rewrite. 

For a couple years now, I’ve felt kind of stagnant in my writing.  I have felt like I lost My Voice, and I was struggling to figure out what was wrong.  Was I just bored?  Yes, probably.  But also, I think I needed to look back at some of my older works that I fucking loved and thought couldn’t be improved...and improve them. 

Just Keep Writing You’ll Get There is good advice.  But it wasn’t working for me, because I’ve written 1-2 novels a year since I started writing fic in 2012, so it’s not like I was just staring at my screen and not putting any words on it while I angsted.  Read And Rewrite Your Old Shit was the next step in my evolution.  I highly recommend it if you’re also feeling stagnant and stuck XD

I’m also super amused, because Feels Like Home was 112k, and at the time it was the longest thing I’d ever written.  On accident.  Like I do.  It was supposed to be for an 8k mini-bang, and I had to drop out because obviously it got away from me and I wasn’t going to make the deadline.  As I was doing the Destiel rewrite, I had to keep cutting scenes and characters out that were specific to Mass Effect, and I speculated that the new fic would be shorter than the original. Ha.  Hahaha.  HahahahahaHAHAHAHAKDJHFADKJHF... fuck I am a wordy bitch.

[astrozones]

Random Romangst: What’s an Ever After? (1/2)

Graphic Descriptions of Self Harm, Self Hatred, and Crying.

Summary: Roman "Princey" Sanders was not okay, and he wasn't entirely sure he ever had been. What with all the insults, being the butt of jokes, the hate from the fandom, the hidden hate from other sides, who could blame him for feeling this way? Maybe one day he'd be better. Feel better. Be more loved.But that day was not today.

Yeah, triggering content ahead. Proceed with caution.

Discord!: Astro’s Zone

Sobs wracked his body as he curled up on the floor, head shoved between his knees and chest. He whimpered, a long, low sound as he tried not to make too much noise in the dead of night.

Roman “Princey” Sanders wasn’t okay, and he hadn’t been for a long, long while. 

Yet the pain that came with every night cried asleep never got old. And it hurt, it hurt as he tried to breathe in slowly, the air passing through the weight in his chest, making him ever so aware of its presence, sending him spiraling back into the depression.

The tears flew down his cheeks gracefully, and at this point he wasn’t entirely certain he wasn’t going to flood the room with salty water.

He pounded the floor, the dull pain distracting himself from his thoughts momentarily. He did it again, and again, and again, until Roman saw a drop of blood stain the hardwood floor.

He gasped, stilling his movement. This is all going too fast.

Really, he didn’t know why he was overreacting so much. It was the same kind of day as normal.

“Maybe quiet down a bit, kiddo,” Patton had said. It stung, but not any more than it usually did.

“Arrogant, much?” Virgil had muttered when Roman had promised them that his latest project was going to be the best ever! All other creations would bow down when passing this one! Typical behavior from Roman, and typical behavior from Virgil, why did it hurt him so?

And when Logan said, “your work is subpar,” Roman didn’t even bat an eye, why was he crying over it hours later?

Deceit had hissed, “great job, Roman, you did brilliantly,” Roman had played off the lie like he always did, treating it as though it was a genuine compliment, even while his brain chanted ‘liar, liar, liar’.

Remus only did his typical thing, hitting him over the head with no warning, dashing in a handful of emotional pain along with the physical. His head still ached, but his heart hurt more.

When he faced the mirror and told himself he was worthless, idiotic, cruel, and unjust, he hadn’t said anything new.

Surely by this point he should be used to the scorn? To the side comments, the glares, and the insults? Yet every night arrived the same, with Roman crying himself to sleep on the bedroom floor. He was weak, and a coward, and he knew it from the bottom of his heart.

His hand shot up to cover his mouth as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Who was up at this hour..?

“Roman?” A soft, groggy voice asked. The light from the hallway shifted, the beams coming through under the door. It was Virgil. “Are you awake? Thought I heard something…” 

Roman shrunk into himself more, hiding his face in his knees as a low whimper escaped. It was quiet, just enough so that, after a few long moments, Virgil muttered “Must be imagining things…” before walking back down the hall. Roman punched himself in the head. Idiot, what are you doing?! Don’t wake everybody up just because you decided to act like a little baby!

The feelings, the bad, horrible feelings, started long ago. Roman couldn’t remember an exact age, but years ago, maybe at age 7 or 8, Thomas had shown a friend his newest work of art, and, after asking his friend to answer honestly, had been told that it wasn’t very good. At all. And for the first time Roman felt… lonely. He had been there with Patton and Logan but he hadn’t felt more alone and empty in his then-short life.

Those feelings only grew over time. While Thomas showed his work to his friends less and less, Roman lied more and more. He hesitated more, hid away all of his ideas until he deemed them perfect to share with Thomas and the other Sides. And his standards for perfect only got higher and higher. 

Roman started feeling better during Thomas’ vine days. They allowed Thomas to create a different kind of creative content, in short, 6-second bursts. People loved them. And they hated them. After all, with that kind of a following, haters were pouring in from every hole they could get through. Roman tried not to let it affect him. He failed.

A character based off of him appeared in those vines. Logan and Patton, too. And once, even Anxiety. All of them seemed to be met with open arms.

Then, oh then, Thomas started Sanders Sides, and it was the single most best and worst idea Roman ever had.

The first episodes were pretty great, of course, and Roman started feeling truly accepted, even if all the fans didn’t like him. 

Virgil appeared in one of the videos. Roman was brought in, and one of the first things he was told was ‘I hope and dream to get rid of my anxiety’, and what was Roman supposed to do with that? Go against his host?

Roman knew that he went too far. He understood that, now. But everyone blamed him for it all. That sounded selfish, he didn’t want the blame of Thomas, he just… wanted to stop hurting.

Except he didn’t know how he had gone too far. He said some mean things, and used a couple nicknames, but those weren’t Earth-shattering, were they?

Sure, he and Virgil were on okay terms now, but that didn’t change what he did. That didn’t overrule the taunting, the insults, the nicknames swapped back and forth between the two. A little voice in his head told him that it wasn’t entirely his fault. Virgil had done the same in return. He ignored it.

Roman opened his eyes- when had he closed them?- to look at the ceiling- when had he laid down?- and sighed. The stinging pain on his hand was the only thing stopping him from completely withering away into despair. He should probably bandage it, but he didn’t even have the motivation to get up off the floor.

He lifted his head up off the floor before letting it fall down again with a hard thunk-! He groaned, but not in pain. Physical pain, anyway. 

Creating was hard. You have to know so many different variables, so many different ways of doing all sorts of things. It was so much, and often so daunting that he didn’t even know where to start. On top of that, he embodied Thomas’ hopes, dreams, ego, passion, and his romantic side. Then people like Logan had the audacity to say he wasn’t doing enough-!

Because you aren’t, Roman.

Shut up, voice in his head.

He let his tears drip, drip, drip onto the floor, creating a puddle around his head. He groaned in emotional anguish, closing his eyes and curling up into a ball. His shoulder was being soaked in his tears, but Roman found he couldn’t care less as he cried himself to sleep on his bedroom floor. 

--

Roman woke, awkwardly peeling himself off the floor. Gross, his pyjama shirt was stiff from drip-up tears. He lifted a hand to his face, and- yup, it was on his face, too. He sighed. 

He ignored the pain in his neck as he stretched. He probably deserved it, anyway. Yawning, he walked towards his bed before collapsing. 

If he was right, soon- yup. The bad feelings were already returning, crushing his neutrality like a bug. His breathing picked up, and before he knew it he was hyperventilating again.

He should really get a glass of water, what with all this crying. To do that, though, he’d have to stop crying, lest someone actually notice his suffering. He didn’t want to plague their thoughts with his- his stupid neediness. 

With a huff, Roman decided that if he was going to get through this day without breaking down in front of the others, he needed to do something he would regret. Only because it was hard to hide at times.

He conjured up a razor, already wincing at the thought of the others finding out. But he needed it, he needed the stinging pain along his arms, it distracted him from the thousands of thoughts running around his mind at all times. 

He gasped suddenly, looking down to where he had already drawn 3 thin lines. He hadn’t even noticed…

He watched the beads of blood flow down before snapping himself out of his trance and grabbing a paper towel, tearing a strip off to wrap around the cuts before continuing. 

An unhealthy coping mechanism, but a coping mechanism all the same.

He finished wrapping bandages around his left arm before starting on the right. He’s gotta make sure that absolutely none of the other sides will know what he’s done, or else-!

The door opened.

“Roman!” Patton half-sung, peeking in through the doorway. “Just wanted to tell yo-!”

They stared at each other, Roman’s mind racing to come up with an excuse. Patton stood shock-still, not even blinking as he gaped.

And then he screamed.

[mysterioh]

The Ignorant Beauty and The Beast of New York - Ch. 8

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

Synopsis: Y/N is an exhausted bio major. Steve is danger with a capital DANGER. She thinks he’s a sarcastic prick with an impressive knowledge in art history. He thinks she’s cute even if she’s only running on one brain cell. All he wants is a single date, but she’s adamant upon denying.

Masterlist

The Language of the Arts

This is awkward. 

“So,” you spoke up, eyes strictly focused on the painting in front of you, hating the silence standing in between. “Nice weather we’re having." 

"Yeah,” Steve said, his voice was stiff with a hint of nervousness. “Really cold." 

"You like winter?" 

"No, not really.”

“I do,” you said, folding your hands behind your back and tiptoeing up and down. “It’s a great time to do cozy things, y'know? Like watching movies and drinking hot cocoa." 

"I guess it’s nice if you think of it that way,” he shrugged with a small smile. “I usually just think of how cold and dark it is." 

"I like that too, to be honest,” you replied. “I don’t know why, but I just do." 

"All the more reason to do cozy things I suppose?” he chuckled in your direction. 

You turn to him and smile. “Yeah, I guess so." 

His gaze lingers for a while before he snaps his head back towards the painting like he forgot he wasn’t supposed to be staring. Your smile falters a bit and it’s kind of annoying how different he’s acting. You liked the obnoxious version of him more.  

"So, uh,” he clears his throat, “how ya been?" 

"Good,” you nodded. “You?" 

He shrugged. Miserable "I’m fine,” he replied. “How’s your boyfriend?” He asked, straining to sound nice. 

“Oh, he’s fine,” you said. 

It’s awkward again and neither of you knows what to do. He just had to be there when you had to be there. In a city of over two million, the odds of meeting the same stranger more than once were less than likely and yet you’ve met this oaf far more times than you needed to. The universe was scheming something.

“Another art project?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “I wouldn’t be here if  it wasn’t." 

"Your hatred for art is something I’ll never understand,” he shook his head. 

“People like different things. I don’t like art, deal with it,” you jabbed. 

Steve puts his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying. It’s just, I don’t know – when I see something like this there’s this bubbly feeling I get on the inside. And it just doesn’t make sense to me that someone can’t see it the way I do." 

"I know how you feel,” you said. “But with science." 

Steve’s shoulders drop. "But science is boring." 

"It is not!” You retorted then sighed. “I guess someone as simple-minded as you wouldn’t get it,” you shake your head. 

“Or maybe someone as close-minded as you wouldn’t understand where I’m coming from,” he snapped back playfully. 

“I am not close-minded!" 

"Yes, you are,” Steve said. “You don’t actually try to connect with the art. You’re just trying to get an A. Maybe if you open your mind a bit and really let the art speak to you, you’ll appreciate it more and even get a better grade." 

"Are you trying to tell me I’m stupid?" 

"Not in the least,” he said with a chuckle coloring his words. “You’re probably really smart, smarter than me. All I’m trying to say is that maybe you should try stepping out of your comfort zone? Try something you don’t like or want to do. You never know you might actually like it." 

He gives you a charmingly crooked smile as he urges you to try it. You pry away from his gaze with a huff. He hit the mark when he said you needed to get out of your comfort zone, but he didn’t need to call you out on it. 

"Fine,” you replied with a groan, returning to the painting. He smiled gently before speaking.  

“Pygmalion and Galatea by Jean Leon Gerome,” he said. “I personally find this painting filled with passion for obvious reasons. The way he kisses her as she transforms into a human. His dreams come true at that moment. He’s never felt more alive in his life." 

"Personally, I think he’s a jerk. I know the story of Pygmalion and Galatea. I used to be really into mythology a while back,” you told him. “Pygmalion was a self-imposed lonely sculptor. He didn’t like mortal women because he thought they were flawed so he made a statue of what a perfect woman should be like. Aphrodite noticed how much he loved the statue so she brought her to life." 

Steve chuckled. "Then what do you think the painting’s about?" 

"Male superiority.” You stated, looking into the picture. “Look at how pure and delicate Galatea looks, isn’t that every man’s dream girl?" 

"I see where you’re coming from,” Steve chimed in. “Notice the sculptures in the back. One is of a woman with her child which could represent the role of a mother that’s pressed upon them. The other is of a woman looking into a mirror and I think that symbolizes vanity. How women only really need to worry about their appearance and how it should please men. It’s how society wants us to be or at least in a man’s eye.”

“Then there’s Pygmalion, muscular and thriving in his own creativity and imagination. The ideal for any man at the time,” you put your hands on your hips. You know the more we keep talking about this, the more I’m starting to hate it.“ 

"Nothing wrong with that,” Steve shrugged. “I thought that was rather impressive - coming from you that is." 

You growl under your breath and push him off balance. He chuckles, only making you cross your arms annoyed. 

"I actually see it differently,” Steve said. 

You raise a brow and turn to him. “How so?" 

"It’s like the roles have been switched. Pygmalion’s reaching up to Galatea since she’s up on a pedestal. While she has to crouch down for his affection. Although we can’t ignore the fact that she is his creation, we know she possesses all of his love because he’s invested every part of him into her. His heart, soul, and mind, it all belongs to her. She possesses his idolization and can make him do whatever she wants,” he said. 

You bring a hand to your cheek. “That makes sense. I like that interpretation more." 

"It makes you feel pity for Pygmalion almost. He’s blind and naive in his devotion to her. If that was the painter’s intent, I think he did a good job by adding the theatrical masks in the corner.” You pointed. “Cause it isn’t reality. The emotions when you’re on stage are only skin deep.  Even if Galatea may show love and affection towards Pygmalion, it’s not real and it never will be. Whatever emotions she holds will always be artificial. But the way he kisses and holds her shows that he believes Galatea’s love is sincere, and it makes you pity the guy. Everyone has a weakness and his is the desire to love." 

"I feel exposed,” Steve mumbled. 

“What?" 

"Nothing,” he said. “I’m honestly amazed by your analysis." 

You snorted. "I’m smarter than you, remember?” You teased and he rolled his eyes. “And thanks to you I don’t have to bang my head against the wall for the next three hours. Thanks, I guess you were right. I ended up liking it,” you said with a sheepish smile. 

“I’m glad I could help." 

Your eyes lock with his and you really look at them. Like it’s the first time you’ve seen him. You noticed the way his eyebrows raised a centimeter or two, lined between confusion and wonderment, his eyes twinkled in amusement as if he knew something you didn’t. They were like the ocean, so full of life yet so uncertain. The blue-green hue residing within pulling you deeper into the currents. 

Staring isn’t exactly the word Steve would use. Your eyes rest, not unblinking but slowed; the effect is soft and inviting instead of harsh. Perhaps it’s your lips that give away the intention, not quite smiling but tilting as if they do. 

As if you’re telling him to stay a little longer. It’s unspoken, but sometimes words aren’t needed. And he’d stay if you wanted him to, let you pull him deeper into the vast expanse of your eyes, glazed like honey and warmer than a summer breeze. 

He snapped out of his thoughts. There he goes again. Your lips part to say something, but Steve says something first. 

"I should go,” he said. 

“Oh,” you said in disappointment. “Thanks for helping,” you give him a smile. “See ya around then?" 

"Yeah, just be careful next time?" 

"I’ll make sure to,” you chuckled. “Have a nice day.”

He turned on his heel and waved goodbye. You smiled at him and waved back. The minute he turns away from you completely, the smiles on both of your faces fall instantly and it’s like you’ve lost something you never had.  

“Sweetheart, I ain’t a bad guy. I’ll be nothing but good to you." 

His smooth voice whistled in your ears. Another groan escaped your lips and you slammed your head against the cool metal surface of the kitchen table. 

Usually, the kitchen at Urban Remedy was a chaotic mess. Complete with shouting chefs and frolicking waitresses, sizzling pans and the clatter of dishes. But as the day began to wind down, so did business allowing its workers to catch a break. 

"I know this isn’t the best place to work, but-” your head shot up at the sound of your boss’ sassy voice. 

“Oh no,” you replied sheepishly. “I was just-" 

"I’m just joking,” May chuckled. She leaned over the table. “What’s wrong sister? Someone didn’t tip you well enough?" 

"No, it’s not that,” you chuckled while sitting straight up. “Just life I guess." 

"Lemme guess it’s a guy,” she laid it on the table. Your cheeks heated. 

“Dost mine ears deceive me?” Wanda popped her head in through the door. “Our residential man-hater has a guy problem?" 

"Where did you come from?" 

"I have super hearing,” the girl said, taking a seat next to you. She shakes your arm in excitement. “Now spill." 

"First off, it’s not a guy,” you lied. “I’m just in a bind is all." 

"Sweetheart,” May said, “you’re not fooling anyone." 

"It’s not!” You insisted. 

They replied with doubtful looks and a roll of the eyes. 

“It’s that cute guy that comes to visit sometimes, right?” Wanda asked. “The one with the old man name?" 

You snorted. "No, Quentin is Quentin. He’s not a guy." 

"So there is a guy, but he’s not your friend,” May conjectured. 

You exhaled deeply, feeling annoyed by them and yourself. 

“Okay, there’s a guy,” you grumbled. 

Wanda bounced in her chair while clapping her hands. “I knew it! Is he cute?" 

"I don’t know!” you retorted. Your eyes flit towards May and she’s smiling, pulling all the juicy details out of you. “Okay, maybe a little,” you mumbled and they giggled like children “But I don’t like him or anything!" 

"He wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t,” May smirked, resting her chin in her hand. 

“It’s not like that,” you look away with a sigh. “You ever just want to stay away from something but end up getting closer? Like you want nothing to do with them but they pull you in regardless?" 

"Me with cats,” Wanda said. You turn to her puzzled. “What? I’m allergic to cats, but they’re so cute." 

"Seems like you’re in quite the predicament,” May chuckled. 

“You know a way out?" 

"Nope,” she deadpanned, “but you better get yourself out there cause I just heard the door open.” She pointed behind her with a chuckle. 

You stand with a groan and make your way to the front. 

“Hey,” Wanda called you back, “I think you should just follow your heart.” You rolled your eyes. If that isn’t the stupidest thing -“I know what you’re thinking but try it out? I mean it might be uncomfy at first but it could be worth it?" 

You shoot her a smile and a nod. "I’ll try,” you said pushing past the door and into the hall, to find a boy standing by the counter with his back to you. 

“Welcome in, how can I help you?” you asked as you approached him. 

The boy turned and you could’ve sworn you’ve seen him before. And by the way he looks at you, mouth agape and eyes wide, you probably did. 

It’s like Peter’s memory has been swiped clean and he doesn’t even know what language is anymore as he stands in front of you.

“Uhm?” You asked, totally not judging him.  

“Oh Peter,” May said from behind you. “You’re here!" 

TAG LIST: @ashwarren32​ @rootcrop​ @siriusement​ @savedbystark​ @great-goddess-of-sin​ @boxofteenageideas​ @little-dark-empress​ @imsonick​ @scuzmunkie​ @achishisha​ @chuckennuggets1213​ @captainchrisstan​

[our-smooty]

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 14

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags:  Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

Ao3 Link

It was Beelzebub’s turn to pick the meeting spot, so of course they were standing in a dark, damp back alley somewhere in the American Mid-West at three in the morning. Seemed a little out of the way to Gabriel, but the Prince of Hell had said something about an on-going project with the American political system that they couldn’t leave for a even a second, so here he was. 

“We couldn’t meet inside somewhere? he sneered, eyeing the way his designer shoes were getting ruined in the disgusting sludge coming from a dumpster a few feet away.

“Don’t want you and your lot closer to this project than necessary. You’d just fuck it all up,” Beelzebub answered, rolling their eyes at him. Gabriel huffed and straightened his collar, though it of course wasn’t at all out of place. 

“Well let’s make it quick then. Did your humans…?”

A dangerous growl that Gabriel was glad wasn’t directed at him. “No. Idiots got scared off by whatever the bastard had set up. They all ran off anyways.”

“Well mine got the job done. They sent a little… encouragement, to that ratty bookshop Aziraphale insists on keeping.” Gabriel was practically preening and he knew it. Being able to show up Beelzebub in any way always put him in a positive mood. Thwarting the enemy and all that.

“It’d be easier if we could be direct,” Beezle growled. The flies swarming around the dumpster began to make their way over and Gabriel had to swat a few away with the back of his hand.

“Get a hold of yourself, Beez. You were there, you know the almighty was clear that neither one of us could interfere directly!” Using humans as a loophole had been Michael’s idea and so far there hadn’t been any repercussions. But this had only been a test, and since things had gone well…

“We can escalate though, yes?” they buzzed, the flies zipping around excitedly and a grin breaking out on their face. “My contacts from before have been... reprimanded appropriately, and we’re ready to move on whenever you are.”

Gabriel’s face morphed into a tight smile of his own. He always had admired his demonic counterpart’s willingness to get a job done, no matter the cost. Beelzebub was shrewd and cutthroat and if they hadn’t been one of Satan’s damned, Gabriel might have hired them for a position Upstairs.

“Yes, we can move on to phase 2. Give it a few weeks, I’ll send you a memo, and a calendar invite for the pre-briefing. It’s Heaven’s turn to cater so…” Which was a good thing, since last time when it’d been Hell’s turn the lettuce on the tea sandwiches had been mouldy. Gabriel didn’t partake in the gross matter but it was the principle of the thing! “Are we still on for that event in Berlin next Saturday?”

“You’re the one who said it’d be in both our best interests if it went well, so yeah, I’ll be there. Don’t get in my way.” Beelzebub threw up a rather rude hand gesture then disappeared through a door in one of the buildings. Gabriel spent a few extra minutes in the ally, pondering whether contacting the demon to make sure their chosen apparel didn’t clash, or if that might get him in more trouble than it was worth.

-

The hunger didn’t really go away. Crowley woke up almost every morning with a strong desire to get to the breakfast table that persisted throughout lunch and supper. Aziraphale enjoyed it as an opportunity to exercise his cooking skills, even if it did require him to spend more of his day in the kitchen than was usual. Crowley repaid him for his kindness of course, he’d bring in fresh flowers (though with the changing seasons, he was going to have to switch to gourds), or later in the day bring him cocoa and biscuits while the angel was working on restoring a book. Sometimes, after a particularly good supper, Crowley might drop to his knees under the table and thank Aziraphale in a different way that the angel liked just as much as any of the others. 

The change of season brought on a change in their routines as well. Since it was getting colder, Crowley spent a lot more of his time indoors curled up in front of the fireplace watching reality TV, or in bed taking long indulgent naps. When they’d first moved in together Crowley had tried to stay awake and active through the colder months, scared Aziraphale would be upset with him for lounging about. But after 10 years they’d come to an understanding. As long as Crowley made an effort to spend at least a little bit of time-conscious with the angel every day (barring very long naps, which were usually discussed beforehand), Aziraphale was happy. And Aziraphale being happy made Crowley happy which in turn made the colder months of the year much more pleasant for the demon. 

On a blustery November afternoon, Crowley was making a significant effort to be awake as Aziraphale showed him pictures of cribs on his own laptop. He never should have shown the angel pinterest, or Amazon. 

“So what do you think? I thought something traditional would be nice, and of course money isn’t really an object, and maybe there’s someone in town who does carpentry? But what about safety?” Crowley browsed the collections of cribs, and rocking chairs, and various baby paraphilia, trying to keep himself from drifting off. He’s set an alarm to wake him up just after midday in case he didn’t wake up naturally. Of course, he’d snoozed it a few times before dragging himself out of their bedroom and into the sitting room for a cuppa.

“Think we’ve seen thousands of babies make it just fine, even without all these fancy cribs and chairs and baskets. You know we can make just about anything safe if we want to, with wards and a good talking-to.” He paused on a simple crib made of light pine with gently scalloped finishings. “I know I’ve seen signs for ‘rustic’ furniture around the village, m’sure you could find someone to make one like this.”

“That would be lovely, wouldn’t it? It’s been a very long time since I had to make use of any woodworking skills, but I’m sure I could sketch something up for a professional to take a look at. Would you like to help, darling?” 

“Sure, go get us a pencil and paper then, and maybe a refill?” There’d be no more coffee since Aziraphale insisted he keep to under a cup a day, but maybe the angel would allow him some tea. Aziraphale gave him a beatific smile then rushed off to his stacks of stationery. Crowley secretly thought it was sweet how Aziraphale still wrote letters on his own custom paper, with fountain pens and a personalized wax seal. Over the millennia he’d gotten thousands of letters from the angel, and he kept each one in a lockbox that was now hidden in the back of their closet. Outwardly, Crowley rolled his eyes when Aziraphale returned, playing the part of out-upon husband as usual.

“Alright, you get a start on here then, while I make more tea. You’ve always been better at the arts than me anyway.” Debatable, but Crowley was too sleepy to really argue. He took a pen and some paper and began to doodle out crib-shaped creations. As the kettle whistled and Aziraphale hummed to himself his drawing moved towards the more specific, detailing little flower engravings for decoration along all the legs. When Aziraphale came back with the tea and some biscuits, Crowley had less of a sketch and more of a fully fleshed-out design.

“Oh Crowley! It’s gorgeous love,” Aziraphale exclaimed as he sat down to take a look. Crowley had barely been thinking about what he was drawing, instead letting his hands take over while his mind coasted in a half-dreaming state. “I love the flowers, and the wings on the corners. “You’re so creative.”

“Thanks angel,” Crowley murmured, looking at his own drawing like he was seeing it for the first time. He took a sip of tea from the cup Aziraphale passed him, relaxing back against his angel. “But I’m sure you can do it better, if you try.”

“Nonsense. I think it’s perfect. Maybe we could do a little more research, just to make sure it’s up to safety standards, just in case, but otherwise, I don’t think I’d change a thing.” Crowley would have argued if he wasn’t already half asleep again, his teacup leaning dangerously to the side. “Are you really so tired my dear? You should have said.”

“Wanted t’spend some time w’you,” he mumbled. The teacup was gone from his hands, presumably taken by Aziraphale, and a warm blanket draped around his shoulders. “Don’t want you t’be lonely.”

“My sweet demon,” Aziraphale cooed. “Thank you, you’re always thinking of me. But I think I’m going to read for a little while, if you’re like to take a nap. You can use my lap, if you’re like.” Crowley was already sliding down so he was horizontal, his head cushioned against Aziraphale thighs. The angel used one hand to turn the pages of the book resting on the arm of the sofa, the other slung low on Crowley’s hips. That hand wormed its way under Crowley’s sweater--soft cotton, with little devil horns on the hood--so he could touch the bare skin of his belly. 

“Love you,” Crowley hummed. Aziraphale wiggled a tiny bit, either in happiness or to get more comfortable, and sighed happily.

“I love you too, dear. Get some sleep.” And Crowley drifted off.

At first he was dreaming about the garden. Not the Garden, but his garden in the South Downs, at the cottage. It was summer, peak flowering period for some of his favourites and he was down on his knees at one of the smaller flower beds pulling weeds. The sun was exceedingly warm at the back of his neck but that was alright, he was nearly done. Then he could go inside and drink some of the lemonade Aziraphale had made earlier.

The dream oozed forward at a leisurely pace and he enjoyed every second. The sun slowly sank towards the horizon and the wind got a little chilly; it must have been later in the summer than he thought. Even though the weather was turning, he still felt warm though, an unfamiliar heat spreading from his core and out to his limbs. He looked down, almost expecting to see something silly like a hot water bottle--dream logic of course; even when he knew he was dreaming Crowley’s imagination got away from him--but instead saw his own body. And the baby bump.

“That you, Sprout?” he asked, his voice echoing strangely in the hazy dreamworld. “You’re very warm, taking after your Papa?”

A familiar wriggling, and something Crowley struggled to define. It almost reminded him of when we was still an angel, and he could sense love, a glowing joy from inside, spilling out through his cracks. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation, the dream’s slow pace lulling him into a sense of security. Here in his garden there was just him, the baby, and what felt like pure joy.

Crowley didn’t notice the dream shifting. The garden slowly getting darker and colder, the flowers wilting, shriveling, dying. Their cottage faded away, becoming an empty field, the sky a roiling grey. When Crowley opened his eyes and saw his surroundings, the oncoming storm whipping the dead grass and flowers all around, he knew. The warmth in his stomach pulled away and Crowley felt cold.

Something was coming.

Aziraphale was startled from deep in his reread of Frankenstein’s Monster by Crowley’s shuddering. Normally when the demon had a bad dream the first sign was a noise; a whimper or a shout that would alert Aziraphale to the situation so he could intervene. But even lacking the normal markers, the angel could tell something was wrong. Crowley was a very still sleeper, even if he did cling, and the erratic shaking and shivering he was doing right now certainly wasn’t normal.

“Crowley love, wake up. Shhh, it’s alright,” he said, loud enough to wake the other but softly enough to avoid startling him. He set his book aside and brought both hands into the equation, caressing and petting Crowley’s hair and shoulders. “Come on darling, time to wake up.”

“‘Zira? S’dark.” He didn’t sound upset, or panicked and Aziraphale let out a breath of relief. 

“You were only asleep for an hour, but the suns already set, given how late in the year it is,” Aziraphale explained, still petting Crowley’s hair. “Were you having a bad dream?”

Crowley rubbed his face against the angel’s belly, dispelling the sleep from his eyes. “Strange. I was in the garden, and then it was dark out. Could feel…” He stared down at his stomach. “I think I could feel them there.”

“Really?” Aziraphale meant to ask more about the dream, but was easily sidetracked by the news of the baby communicating. “In what way did you see them?”

“Not see, just felt them. They were warm. But then it got dark, and I felt like I was freezing, and the cottage was gone--” his voice got faster and faster, his breathing more shallow. To stop him flying off into a panic attack Aziraphale thread his fingers through Crowley’s hair again, not really tugging but still a firm presence. “And then I woke up. That's it, nothing exciting angel.”

Aziraphale hummed lowly, in the way he knew relaxed Crowley. “I’m a little jealous of you. For getting to feel them, not for having a nightmare.”

Crowley wiggled so that instead of just his head resting in Aziraphale lap, his entire upper body was laying across his legs. Then he grabbed the hand the angel didn’t have woven through his hair and pressed it to his stomach.

“S’the best I can do. Maybe if you concentrate you’ll feel it too?” Aziraphale tried his hardest, willing his entire celestial self to focus in on that one small area. Underneath his hands Crowley shuddered, but Aziraphale kept on searching until--

“Oh!” He could feel something, at least. It wasn’t really warm, like Crowley had said, but there was movement. It was reassuring to know they were there, and alive, and growing. “You’re amazing Crowley.”

“What, me?” Crowley laughed, thoroughly pleased with himself. The anxiety from the dream didn’t stand a chance against praise from Aziraphale. Still, Crowley looked like he was done sleeping, because he sat up and stretched languorously.  “S’a bit late to go out, but we could order in?”

“If you want. You’ll have to take a look at your application and see what’s available.” Somehow, despite being a ways out into the countryside they always had plenty of options for takeout. And they were well known by all the delivery persons as excellent tippers, so their food usually arrived on time or earlier than expected. “I’m not craving anything in particular.”

“Good, ‘cause I am. I want fries, and maybe a ceasar salad. Oh and falafel.” Crowley was already tapping wildly at his phone, presumably making his order. “And maybe something sweet, for after…”

“Cravings dear?” Aziraphale teased, nudging Crowley with one elbow like he used to do years ago, when they would walk through St. James’ Park. That was before the end that didn’t happen, when even the smallest contact between them was taboo. Now they could touch whenever they wanted, and so Aziraphale didn’t stop at just one nudge, instead choosing to lean heavily against Crowley so he could look at the screen, “The poor delivery person is going to have an awful lot of trouble carrying all that.”

Crowley just rolled his eyes and continued scrolling through his options. “So you don’t want bubble tea? I was going to get you taro flavour but if you think it’s too much--” 

“Now now let's not be hasty love. I'm sure a large tip will make up for any trouble on the driver’s end.” Crowley giggled. Aziraphale tucked the sound away in his memory with all the other cute things Crowley did but would never admit to. 

“I thought so. You can never resist, can you?” Refusing to be needled, Aziraphale decided to fire back. Crowley was so cuddly and soft; so completely unworried now that the nightmare had faded that he couldn’t resist. He nuzzled right underneath the other’s demon-sigil where he knew Crowley was extra sensitive and revelled in the full-body shudder it produced. 

“Why should I? There’s no shame in liking nice things.” Aziraphale let the implication hang. Crowley could still be touchy about being called nice or good outside of the bedroom depending on his mood. This time however, Crowley sighed and shimmied away a bit so he could show Aziraphale the screen.

“Whatever you say angel. Does this look good?” The order list was expansive, and probably much more than either of them would be able to  eat tonight. But that was alright, leftovers wouldn’t last long given Crowley’s new and voracious appetite. 

“Splendid love. I’ll go set the table?” It was really an excuse to get up and move. As much as Aziraphale loved cuddling and pampering his husband, he did tend to get restless. Now that Crowley was awake and relaxed he could get up and bustle about, working off all the energy that had built up while the demon napped. With the excitement of the baby coming Aziraphale had been finding it difficult to sit still and not rush about, preparing everything.

“Can’t we just eat here?” Crowley asked, sprawling into the warm space on the sofa left behind by the angel. Aziraphale smiled and passed his slothful demon the telly remote.

“No, I won’t have you drop tahini and falafel bits all over the carpet. You can eat at the table or not at all.” Crowley glared but there wasn’t really any real anger in it. In fact, it was quite cute, not that he’d ever say that out loud. Crowley would not tolerate being called cute, no matter how happy he was. 

“Fine, stuffy angel.” He turned the TV on and quickly navigated to NBC where Aziraphale knew they’d be playing Golden Girls at this hour. After one last fond look Aziraphale couldn’t stand still any longer, so he hurried off to get everything ready for their impromptu feast.

[idlecreature]

a mountain is a lovely, cold thing to surround one

Barnabas Bennett and Mordechai Lukas have an... unorthodox relationship. 

Barnabas has debts, and Mordechai makes sure he pays them. 

Vampire!Mordechai for Jonah Magnus Week! Part 1/Part 2/Part 3 

Rating: Mature 

Relationships: Mordechai Lukas/Barnabas Bennett, Jonah Magnus/Barnabas Bennett 

Content warnings: Dubcon, Unhealthy relationships, heavy on the internalized homophobia, the Lonely, manipulation (hence the dubcon warning), Barnabas does NOT die in this fic, happy ending for Barnabas because he deserves it rrrr  

Fragments from a letter written circa Christmas 1814 

—and I am looking forward to fainting at the sight of his sweet little face, Jonah! The splendid mane around his neck! Your little tiger, king of his jungle, king Ceasar, his croaky battle-roar as he runs down the hallway for his cream—

*

Barnabas has a sixth sense for earthquakes. In the hours leading up to one, he feels odd jolts in his bones, like someone is reaching through his skin and rattling him. He feels them where he broke his zygomatic process when his mother dropped him as a toddler, just to the side of his left eye. If he had a soul, he thinks that’s where it would live: in the part of him that was first broken. 

When he and Jonah are thirteen and eleven respectively, he feels his skull itching and watches the trembling of their school’s pet rabbit and the anxious pattern of birds wheeling, and on their tea break, he leads Jonah outside and takes the other boy’s hand and presses it to a patch of bare dirt beside the rugby field. 

“Do you feel that?” Barnabas asks. 

Jonah’s eyes narrow in concentration. His hand scrapes nonsense patterns in the dirt. “Describe what I’m supposed to be feeling?” 

Barnabas shakes his head. How does a thirteen-year-old describe a sense of inescapable doom? It feels like standing outside his mother’s room unbreathing and counting down from twenty before knocking. It feels like being sucked under a wave and not fighting as hard as he knows he should to resurface. It feels like waking up on a grey morning crying. 

The quake, when it hits that evening, lasts for six minutes. An entire epoch for a child. And Barnabas understands it’s no use knowing about an oncoming earthquake if you are powerless to stop it coming on. 

At least he has Jonah, whose dirty hand wraps tightly around his own. 

Despite what Jonah believes, there are some things that just can’t be explained in words. 

*

His skull’s been prickling in recent months. 

It’s gonna be a bad one. 

* 

—It’s freezing cold, and, oh, you know I feel the cold most cruelly. I cannot make myself warm with double-socking, or blankets over my knees, or hot bread and soup... nothing warms me, only the morning sun as she shakes her fiery head. I cannot wait for summer-time—

*

Isabel Blackwood is a saint. 

“Another slice of Three-kings-cake, B....Barny?” Isabel asks, her knife poised in the air. There are two slices left, and James has already found the bean. Her four children stand at her elbows, eyeing the cake with hungry, dark eyes, but they, too, cede to Barnabas. Even the little king bows. 

“Mr. Bennett, if you please,” Barnabas replies, aiming for a terse-but-gentle tone. “And I couldn’t eat another bite!” He pats his stomach in emphasis. 

“Come on, Mr. Bennett, it’s Christmas!” 

“Leave off, Mr. Blackwood,” Isabel says to her husband. She smiles at Barnabas as she cuts the two slices into four and divides them amongst her children. 

“Don’t wolf it down or you’ll make yourselves sick,” Isabel warns the two girls, Frances and Annie. 

The Blackwoods are decent folk, letting him come over for cake on Christmas. They were the first to sign up for Barnabas’ family charity earlier in the year; he has since taken on half a dozen more, but his closest working relationship is still the Blackwoods. The charity pulled the eldest, James, out of the workhouse and into an apprenticeship, made co-payments on lodgings that are just a step above their old squalid tenement, provided them with new ill-fitting clothes. It seems pitifully little to Barnabas, but the Blackwoods seem to worship the ground he walks on. 

You can’t be too friendly with people like that. It’s unfair to you both. It’s awkward enough sitting in their smoky central room, the air smelling like damp and soap and sweat and charcoal, in a tailored suit that may as well have been spun from gold, hands soft from white-collar work, clear-eyed and ruddy-cheeked. Look, his appearance mocks, how the world could be if it were not so cruel. 

Before Barnabas leaves the Blackwoods, the littlest one, Henry, gives him a tight hug. Henry tries to wrap his entire body around Barnabas’ middle, constricting him like a snake, and when he doesn’t seem to want to let go Isabel has to pry him off. 

“Don’t be so clingy,” she chides her son. She looks at Barnabas nervously. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Bennett. He’s somehow got it in his silly noggin that you’re his Uncle.” 

Barnabas looks at her in mute horror. “I - I - I should go,” he says, and makes a hasty exit. 

*

Barnabas runs a finger down the perfectly neat columns of his ledger again, double-checking every minutia of his expenses. He’s made a mistake, he must have missed something. He’s fifty pounds short of where he should be. 

His hands curl into fists. The absence of fifty pounds shouldn’t be a big issue, not for him and his big house and servants and nice things. But the charity is obviously chewing through more of this month’s allowance than he’s anticipated, and he needs to make some adjustments if he wants to be able to keep all the nice things and pay the servants and keep the debt collector from his door. 

This is why he shouldn’t let people become attached to him. Because he ends up disappointing or hurting them. People could starve and it would be his fault. 

A thick splat of water lands on his ledger, making the perfect lines run, and that’s just great, isn’t it? What are tears ever good for, when are they ever useful? He is just a very small cog in a very big machine, and now he’s getting ground up in it like the rest of them. 

But what else can he do? He must participate in the world if he wants it to change for the better, even if it’s a marginal improvement. He could live in the margins. 

He’ll find the money somewhere. 

*

—did you get my copy of Queen Mab? The Vice Society has declared it OBSCENE MATERIAL, and I mustn't be seen with a copy of it in my house, but you do not rely so much upon a good reputation. I hope you keep it safe. I hope you read it and I hope you side with P.B.S. and I. A good world starts with a good person and a few choices that are made with the heart—

*

Barnabas’s game of solitaire lies forgotten as he stares at Jonah.

They are more different now than ever. Barnabas keeps the company of bankers and lawyers and politicians, and Jonah runs with crackpots and devils and the insane. Jonah has fourteen powers; Barnabas has a list of names in his address book. People he barely knows, who remain in his orbit because of his good breeding, his impeccable reputation, and they still only half-listen to his pleading and his petitioning and his politicking. The people with the power to actually change the world; people he wants at arm’s length.  

But there’s just something about Jonah that makes Barnabas want to touch. He flares to gold with an audience; but, even now, curled up on his couch idly scratching between Julius Ceasar’s whiskers, he is a dim and majestic copper. There’s something undeniably old testament about Jonah; the fire and fury of creation, the self-annihilating stare of Lot’s wife. 

Jonah’s close to buried under the Millbank proofs spread over his lap, sucking gently on the tip of his pen, occasionally darting down to make some arcane adjustment on the design—just a penstroke or puzzling scribble. Mostly he just stares at the paper, eyes wide enough to look like holes in his face. When he gets like this, Barnabas can balance teacups on Jonah’s head without him noticing. The record is three. 

“Still keeping the elevator?” Barnabas asks. It’s just one of the many strange embellishments that Jonah’s insisted upon, putting it far outside the budget of any public works project. The price of Jonah’s fancies must run into the tens of thousands of pounds. 

“In my dreams, there’s a glass elevator to the top of my tower, from which I look down upon the imprisoned and the powerless,” Jonah says. 

“Taking cues from your dreams?” Barnabas replies. “You know only the desperately mad do that?” 

“Or desperately inspired—savants and prophets and visionaries.” 

“And prison wardens, apparently,” Barnabas mutters. He bites his teeth together, unwilling to work through this old argument. “Who’s paying for your dream towers, again? Think they might lend me fifty pounds for a project that actually is for the public good?” 

Jonah finally unpeels his eyes from his proofs, and Barnabas’s throat runs dry. Jonah stares until he’s got Barnabas squirming in his seat, and then he says, brightly, “Oh, I’m sure he would. I’m sure I could tell you. But I don’t think I will.” 

“Jonah,” Barnabas says irritably. “That’s very unfair.” 

“Oh, pish posh, life’s unfair, Barny, and I can’t believe that you in your infinite wisdom and your even more infinite disposition to share it can pretend that it isn’t. That the evil in man has made life unfair, that it’s just not the natural order to put some creatures above others.” 

Barnabas counters him an instant later. “Obviously, you stupid little man, not everyone was created equal, but it’s the good in man to want to put things to rights, to create a system where unequal creatures can be equal. Are you trying to make me angry with you by playing the devil’s advocate?” 

“Just testing you,” Jonah says in his alloyed voice, silver-and-honey-gold. 

“Well? Who’s this rich man then?” 

Jonah sticks his tongue out at him. 

“Alright, it’s getting late,” Barnabas says. He tidies his long-forgotten card game and makes ready to leave. 

“Wait,” Jonah says. 

“It really is getting on, Jonah, I promise you can tease me about secret benefactors some other day.” Barnabas stands up and stretches on his stiff legs. 

“No.” Jonah shuts his eyes briefly. “It’s very late. You should stay.” 

Barnabas shakes his head and makes his way out of the fire-warm lounge and into the cold front room. Jonah springs up, sending the proofs flying and Julius Ceasar yowling in annoyance and surprise, and Jonah follows close on his heels. 

“It’s raining,” Jonah says more softly. 

“It is Edinburgh,” Barnabas replies, but cold apprehension curdles in his belly. “I - I need to leave. I - I already visit you too often, Jonah, and you know what people say about you, and they might think that I’m.... I’m some kind of...” 

Jonah steps closer. “Aren’t you, though? ‘Some kind of’?” He reaches for Barnabas’s hand where it is clumsily buttoning his coat. “I know you, Barnabas. Your morality has only ever been a thin cover for your shame.” 

The blood drains from Barnabas’ face. “That’s very cruel,” he whispers. 

“It’s true,” Jonah says. He cants his head. “Haven’t you thought about why your morals don’t ever make you happy? It’s because you wield them like a sword, to keep yourself away from the world. A world that won’t ever accept you for who you are. A world that wants you to keep waving that heavy, sharp thing until you give up and throw yourself upon it. That’s your pain, Barnabas, that’s your fear. Whenever I look at you I can see it as easily as I see your face.” 

Jonah steps closer again. His chin touches Barnabas’s chest, and Barnabas can see the pulse fluttering in his friend’s throat. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Jonah says. 

“It does,” Barnabas says, stepping out of his reach. “Because - because I’m still afraid, and I still love the world, even - even if to live in it I must throw myself upon my sword and die and haunt my own life, all at the same time.”

Jonah remains silent. If he is stung by the rejection, his expression doesn’t show it. He’s got that crinkle between his brow he gets when he has to solve two maths problems simultaneously.   

“Mordechai Lukas,” Jonah says, eventually. “That’s my moneyed friend. Tread carefully with him.” 

Jonah wishes him no goodbye when he shuts the door. That’s fine with Barnabas. He’s not the only one nursing fresh wounds. 

* 

—I confess since I’ve been away this time my need or my wish for people has absolutely fled. I have learned to love solitude, and I forget what it means to be lonely.— 

* 

Mordechai looms as large as a mountain and is beautiful in the way a portrait is beautiful—two steps removed from humanity. 

He tilts Barnabas’s head to the side, impervious to the muscles in Barnabas’s neck straining against him. 

“Hm,” Mordechai says. 

“I take it you’re not convinced by the moral position, then,” Barnabas spits out. His cheeks are burning, but Mordechai’s other hand is wrapped around Barnabas’s hip, stopping him from stepping away. 

Mordechai laughs; a strange thing, guttering as it starts, in contrast with his unmoving, lifeless, beautiful face. His thumb strokes Barnabas’s cheek despite Barnabas trying to shake it off. “No. But there are certainly other positions to consider.” 

“We’re in public,” Barnabas hisses. He looks pointedly at two women walking down the other side of the street. 

“Are we?” Mordechai murmurs. He’s still circling his thumb on Barnabas’s cheek, but his fingers press down on Barnabas’s carotid artery, taking its measure, making Barnabas’s vision swim with silver fish. 

“What - what vile magic -” 

“Just a glamour.” 

Barnabas processes this new information rapidly. “They can’t see us?” 

“Would you like them to?” 

Barnabas tries to shake his head, but it is locked in place, pulled as taut as a bowstring. The pressure is starting to hurt, and he rests against Mordechai’s hand for a moment to ease it. 

“Good,” Mordechai says, and releases him. Barnabas takes several staggering steps backward, massaging his sore neck. “Spirited, aren’t you?” 

“I can - I can work up a repayment plan, we can sign it at the -” 

“No,” Mordechai replies, his voice heavy with finality. “I decide how I am repaid.” 

Desperation is a harsh master, and Barnabas nods. He’d prefer to keep it off the books, anyway. An agreement between Gentlemen. 

“You will find my terms very agreeable,” Mordechai says. 

Barnabas swallows and feels the heat of his blush creep under his hair. There’s something in the way Mordechai looks at him that promises danger, but Barnabas only feels the anticipation of a fight, so strong he can barely keep it down. He takes his time to make sure he doesn’t sound too eager when he replies. 

* 

In the dark of his bedroom when Barnabas finally wraps a hand around himself, he isn’t thinking about Jonah, his many dog-eared fantasies, tired and sad Frankensteinian conjurations of the few ginger kisses they’ve shared, memories of Jonah flushed, excited, exerted stitched together and his own imagination filling in the rest—they’ve been friends for so long it’s completely understandable if Barnabas’ thoughts occasionally (privately, every night) run to intimacy. He’s trying very hard not to think about Jonah. 

He’s thinking about that strange, death-pale, flat-edged face, the terrible pressure on Barnabas’s jaw, the feeling of compression on his artery, the voice both mocking and stern in turns. Its appearance in Barnabas’s thoughts elicits a new and fierce shame. 

Barnabas rubs his chin, trying to chase the feeling of Mordechai’s hand. 

It’s almost comical, how quickly Barnabas’s shame runs to pleasure. 

* 

His fifty pounds arrives with an invitation. 

* 

The first time Barnabas visits Moorland house, he expects Mordechai to be waiting for him. But Mordechai is not there, and Barnabas is expected to wait. 

Moorland is certainly a large and imposing estate, perhaps once opulent, but it has been left to ruin. The building’s beams sag with damp; its tapestries are delicately laced with powder-white fungus; there is an atrocious stuffed albatross over the mantlepiece with half of its feathers snowed around the room. The grounds are pale and bare; an empty wind roils through. 

Barnabas is fairly certain that Moorland has three servants, but they whip around or disappear through doors when he tries to approach them. Barnabas’s own house is much smaller, but he has just as many in his staff; he suspects that Mordechai is not a rich man at all, just someone with a once-impressive but dead family name and an estate too large to be managed on a pittance. He wonders why Mordechai pretends otherwise. 

These thoughts slip through his mind like freshwater fish down a stream, but Barnabas wanders through the house contentedly enough. After a week he barely even notices the servants’ presence, save for his changing sheets and pressed clothes and the serviceable meals prepared set and left for him in at the kitchen table, in front of the unlit hearth. He eats with blackened silverware and tastes the neglect. 

After two weeks, Barnabas sails through the house in fraying silk undergarments and dusty, pink-tinged mink he’s pulled out of a room he can’t remember, his days blurring together in their monotony. He stops to wipe a sleeve at one of the many ancient, spotted mirrors and squints through the smear of dust at his reflection, trying to reconcile the person standing in front of him with the person he thought he was. Wasn’t he supposed to have a purpose here? Wasn’t he needed in London? There is poverty, suffering; but it is far, far away, and he is in a place it would never touch him. 

There are as many mirrors as there are portraits of Mordechai’s family, all exactly alike, his haunting beauty and domineering presence. Barnabas drags a finger down the paint of one of them, leaving behind a thin white line. A tally mark to as many days he thinks he’s spent in this place. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, clipping pearlescent roses from the garden for a floral arrangement when he thinks about all those mirrors, and how a ghost could wander this house trapped forever. If he covers up the mirrors, then he could leave. 

*

Mordechai returns when Barnabas no longer keeps track of days and nights; when the mirrors don’t make him think of anything in particular, although he wonders why half of them are shrouded or turned to the wall. 

Barnabas drifts down to the coatroom and threads his arms through Mordechai’s. 

“Welcome home,” he says dreamily. 

“Hello,” Mordechai says. Barnabas makes a small, disappointed sound when Mordechai disengages himself to unwind his scarf. He scratches his beard. “You’re in a biddable mood.” 

“‘Course I am. I’m lovely,” Barnabas replies. He presses himself to Mordechai, enjoying the whole, solid block of him. Mordechai’s hands are worryingly chilly, and Barnabas gathers them and blows on them gently. Once he finishes the task he settles against Mordechai again, pleased with himself. 

Mordechai forgoes a response but for tipping Barnabas’s head back and sucking an open-mouthed kiss against his neck, working the skin with his tongue and the slick coldness of his teeth, and, oh, this is the touch that Barnabas has craved these past days. He’s felt so forlorn without it, only he never realized. 

He’s gasping and moaning by the time Mordechai splits his skin open and drinks his blood. It’s only then, with his blood being pulled out of him in long, deep strokes, that Barnabas remembers with ice-cold clarity why he’s here; to repay a debt; and that he should be feeling rather a lot of either shame, or anger, pain, or worry, but instead he’s trying to rut his puffed-up prick against the vampire’s body. 

Mordechai licks the wound closed and kisses Barnabas, sharing with him the taste of his own blood. 

“Happy new year,” Mordechai says. 

[trippyskippy]

My dreaming brain simply regurgitates what goes on in my awake brain. Been reading The Road Less Traveled, which talks a lot about parenthood. The chapter I read before falling asleep last night talked about dream interpretation

So once again in my dream, I was in a school. I had just had a baby, but I was really excited about it (which I am usually not in dreams since I don't want kids). I was trying to tell my teacher (a very kind lady who taught me in high school) that I was a mom now, but something had her attention & she didn't respond to me.

Why do I keep going back to school? What do I need to learn? Why do I need my creations/accomplishments to be acknowledged in order to be valid?

The Road Less Traveled also echos a realization I had when I visited my mom last week about how as much as she cares for me, she doesn't connect with me, isn't really interested in who I really am. I don't remember if she built that wall or if I did as a child. I've always been so alone in my family even though there's 4 other people. Sucks being the oldest child, the smartest child & is definitely the root of why I'm independent to a fault because it was always just assumed that I could take care of myself, was happy by myself. So then of course I became a terrible teenager & shut them out entirely. Even though I was so hurt and lonely, they didn't have the capacity to reach me or help me.

Wow I'm really unpacking trauma straight out of the brain on Tumblr this morning hello

So because I was always expected to naturally succeed, it's devastating when I don't succeed, or when something takes a little more effort than I thought it should. Most of my praise has come from external sources- from teachers, from the internet. If I accomplish something, I immediately have to share that with someone in order to get more praise because the excitement of accomplishment isn't quite enough.

The worst part is that I've allowed myself to fall into some of the same traps in my marriage. If I clean the whole house, I just want a little praise, Hey it looks nice in here. Nothing. If I put in some effort to look pretty, nothing. When we get in fights, he tells me he doesn't know me, while I feel like he doesn't attempt to soften my crystal heart. I'm afraid to spontaneously open up because the fear of rejection is so much stronger than the pain of being misunderstood.

Holy shit. Why is that???

Even though I love myself so much more than I used to, in my heart I'm still afraid of being lonely and unloved. It's an endless self-sabotage, because he's not like my family. He's told me countless times that he doesn't judge me for my taste in things, won't judge me for my thoughts, but I still can't do it even after 10 years.

For awhile now, I've been wanting to ask if our relationship is still an open one, and if I can pursue the other people that I love but I'm so scared of hurting his feelings, of making him feel more lonely than I already do. But these are probably just projections of my self onto him. He wouldn't get mad. The worst he could say is No, in which case everything stays the same. My feelings for him haven't diminished because I love other people.

Today is the last day of my 24th year. I'm still hoping to find the courage to be who I want to be.

[aion-rsa]

WandaVision: The Unanswered Questions From the Marvel Series

https://ift.tt/38r7iqE

This article contains WandaVision spoilers.

After two months and nine episodes, WandaVision came to a close. One of the more unique projects to come out of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, the show mixed mystery and horror with sitcom pastiche and understandings of grief under the superhero umbrella. The first step in both Phase 4 and Disney+’s Marvel lineup came out a success and built towards future projects.

Then again, its mysterious nature worked against it at times. Figuring out answers on a weekly basis meant trying to stay one step ahead of the show and sometimes it got viewers going in the wrong direction. There was no Mephisto or X-Men or Fantastic Four. On one hand, you can say that people are getting angry about stuff that they were never promised, but there is a feeling that when combing over the details of the show, they did cause us to ask some questions that never quite had a satisfying answer.

After all, even Agnes’ joke story about being out of town due to her mother-in-law visiting proved to be an important detail down the line.

As we sit back and wait for Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness to pick up where our power couple left off, here are some lingering questions we’re left with from WandaVision.

What happened to the beekeeper?

The beekeeper was the first truly haunting moment of the series. Sure, “Stop it!” and the exploding radio were creepy in their own ways, but the idea of Wanda and Vision walking outside at night to find a lone beekeeper sneaking out of the sewer and quietly looking at them was outright nightmare fuel. It was a major instance of wondering what in God’s name was going on, and that’s even before Wanda simply noped out, hit rewind, and retconned the scene from happening.

We later discover that the beekeeper is SWORD Agent Franklin and his appearance is just Wanda’s reality making sense of a man in a hazmat suit. We see him crawling out of the sewer from his point of view, but then…nothing.

While the reveal of his identity doesn’t lead us to AIM henchmen or Swarm (star of Broadway’s Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark), it does explain the nature of Wanda’s neighborhood. That still makes it weird that we never hear from him again.

Or do we? While it’s never made explicit on the show itself, supposedly the guy playing the ice cream man in the episode 5 intro is the same actor as Agent Franklin. Perhaps the beekeeper didn’t die, but was just assimilated into a happier role.

Who was in Witness Protection?

FBI Agent James Woo gets the story rolling by coming to Westview in search of someone in witness protection. The complete lack of anyone having any information or even memory of this person is what gets SWORD involved and Monica Rambeau sucked into Westview. In the end, the identity is just not important.

But it feels like it should be, right? Having Woo go from coast to coast to follow up on this person seems pretty major. You would think it would have come up here or there, but nope. If anything, I guess it just goes to show that Jimmy Woo is a true professional for keeping his trap shut.

Who is the aerospace engineer?

I can understand that throwing Evan Peters’ Quicksilver at us was a good way to distract us from everything Agnes was doing, but the aerospace engineer? Come on! That was definitely more deliberate than the witness protection and they know it.

Monica brings up a friend who is smart enough to get her to break into the Hex all over again. All that’s missing is a smile and wink to the camera. The writers gave us something so blatant that it would be ridiculous NOT to speculate who she was talking about. This had to be an important cameo leading to something major down the line. Would we get Reed Richards? Blue Marvel? Beast? Dr. Nemesis? NFL Superpro?

Even when Monica’s dream vehicle didn’t do the job, it was still believed that this aerospace engineer would still get a dramatic shout-out down the line or a post-credits scene. Nope. At most, this throwaway friend is like that scene in Thor when Erik Selvig was talking up his gamma scientist friend who went missing because of SHIELD.

What did the commercials really mean?

It isn’t hard to figure out that the commercials were based on Wanda’s trauma: the bomb that killed her parents, her time with Hydra, the events of Captain America: Civil War, and her inability to deal with her grief in a meaningful way that didn’t involve torturing and enslaving innocent people. While it isn’t really important to see how the sausage is made, I’m left wondering what the commercials actually were.

From the fourth episode, we do know that the commercials were part of the transmissions. Darcy was able to see the one for the watch, but was focused on something else. Otherwise, I’m sure she would have been wondering about the inclusion of the HYDRA logo. The way everyone in the SWORD collaboration just glossed over the commercials is rather weird.

One of the popular theories was that the man and woman featured in all the live-action commercials were going to be revealed as Wanda and Pietro’s parents. That turned out not to be true, so…were they also Westview citizens? That would be disturbing because to make sense of the commercial narratives and the sitcom narratives, that family would have to be forcefully separated from the rest of the town.

Did Agatha magic up the stop-motion commercial for Yo-Magic? Because that was about her too much to be something Wanda’s psyche came up with.

Is there more to “Fake Pietro” Ralph Bohner?

“Fietro” was the big red herring of the series. After all that wondering of whether he was the first true step in bringing mutants into the MCU or if he was literal Satan in disguise, we discovered he was Agnes’ hypnotized “husband” whose payoff was nothing more than a dick joke.

Then again, he was already called Peter in the Fox universe, so it’s not such a hard stretch to make him a Bohner.

Read more

TV

Will The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Become a Victim of WandaVision’s Success?

By Kirsten Howard

Movies

A Tale of Two Pietros: Explaining the MCU X-Men Problem With a Mutant Speedster

By Gavin Jasper

Monica’s ability to see energy in its various forms allowed her to figure out that Agatha was controlling Ralph with a mystical necklace. Once she tore it off, Ralph immediately gave up and that was the last we saw of him. But what does that mean in terms of his powers?

I imagine Agatha gave him the speed powers so he could play the part of Pietro in order to get intel on Wanda’s magic. Just because she no longer controls him, does that mean he’s physically back to normal as well? Because, hey, he might not be the Quicksilver from the X-Men universe, but he could totally play the role of Quicksilver if Marvel ends up doing a cinematic version of the Thunderbolts or Dark Avengers.

Where did White Vision go?

Vision’s Soul fought Vision’s Body and after we got enough lasers and explosions, the two talked out their differences. Hex Vision convinced his pasty counterpart to stand down and did him the favor of unlocking his dormant memories (that he asked permission was such a nice touch). White Vision recalled everything from the moment of his creation to Thanos pulling out the Mind Stone. Accepting who he is, White Vision flew off and was never referenced again.

I supposed the real question to ask is when will we see him next? Obviously, he has a lot to think about. He’s an emotional husk with lots of data to work through. Does he love Wanda in this form? Can he still love Wanda in this form, knowing what she’s become? As someone who was pro-government oversight, how will it affect him knowing that the government outright betrayed his wishes and memory? Where does someone like White Vision go from here?

Maybe we’ll see him in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. Perhaps, when a new Avengers movie finally happens, Vision will show himself again. Or if they go in the direction of Young Avengers, he could be the wise father to the sons he’s never met.

It would be pretty wild if White Vision relearned how to convey emotions by watching Simon Williams movies.

What are the twins, exactly?

“FOR THE CHILDREN!” is what the neighbors echoed like a brainwashed cult, culminating in Wanda’s very unusual pregnancy. It could have been Wanda’s subconscious telling her to have kids. It could have been Agatha testing out her ability to create life from nothing. It also may have been the children themselves.

We never did fully get a grasp on what Billy and Tommy were. Wanda had a very unnatural birth and, outside of being able to age themselves a couple times, the boys seemed fairly down to earth and good-natured, while also still capable of questioning Wanda’s reality. There was nothing ominous about them outside of the weird nature of their very existence.

When Wanda relaxed the Hex, they started to disappear. When she ended the Hex completely, they once again vanished. Simply saying that they were two kids Wanda conjured up out of thin air would have been an acceptable answer.

Read more

TV

WandaVision: What Wanda’s Kids Mean for the Future of the Marvel Cinematic Universe

By Gavin Jasper

TV

Will The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Become a Victim of WandaVision’s Success?

By Kirsten Howard

Instead, when Wanda fully accepted what her reality was and that it had to end, she thanked her children for “choosing” her to be their mother. She was able to explain what Vision was in the grand scheme of things, but she remained silent when it came to those kids. They were an outside force that sought her out. That’s what her final conversation certainly implies.

The post-credits scene had her studying the Darkhold while being alerted to Billy and Tommy screaming for help. They still exist, in some form, somewhere. Their true nature probably won’t be better explained until the Doctor Strange sequel.

Speculation on this one is a pain in the ass because even the comics explanation is a whirlwind of confusion.

What really happened to Agatha Harkness?

Wanda doesn’t kill Agatha, but does punish her by forcing her to be stuck in the living Hell of portraying Agnes the nosey neighbor. It’s a harsh punishment, but her intent doesn’t jibe with Agatha’s post-Hex status. People know about her. Even if the last few in-universe episodes of WandaVision weren’t on the SWORD airwaves, she was still playing the role of final boss and having magic fights in the sky. The people of Westview saw that.

Wouldn’t this mean that she can’t just go back to her “nosy neighbor” role and that she’s likely destined for a cell? She’ll be lucky if the government isn’t doing experiments on her, which is extra messed up when you imagine her acting like Ned Flanders.

At least she’ll be kept subdued for when the Scarlet Witch needs her. Or maybe she too will join whatever Thunderbolts/Dark Avengers team we may see down the line.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Just give us more Kathryn Hahn, damn it!

The post WandaVision: The Unanswered Questions From the Marvel Series appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2OFQ8yB

[herocentral]

Possible Hero 6

Evening folks Chapter 4 is here, sorry for the unfortunate delay I’ve been a little occupied with uni work. Plus I’ve been to see the Sonic the Hedgehog film, loved it loved the references and the action scenes, it defiantly deserves a sequel heck the games could learn from some aspects of it. Now without further delay heres chapter 4 of Possible Hero 6

I don't own the characters in this story this is just for fun! 

Kim Possible & Big Hero 6 (c) Disney, 2020

Chapter 4: Train up Hero style!

Things couldn’t be any worse for Big Hero 6 not only did their mystery villain thief AKA Shego escaped from them, twice and Momokase escaping as well with her intentions unknown. Now they return to Hiro’s garage to find Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable waiting for them, this could only mean one thing. 

“Hiro?” Hiro said but then coughed and straightened up. “Sorry Miss, uh Possible but I have no idea what your talking about.” He then acted. 

“Yeah, Ki.. uh, complete stranger who we have only met once at the…”

“Okay drop the poor acting Fred.” Kim said interrupting Fredzilla. 

“You, mean you…” Wasabi guessed. 

“Wasabi, Honey Lemon, Gogo, Fred Frederickson, Hiro Hamada and of course Baymax.” Kim pointed to each member of the team in a Batman like style which confirmed that she knew their secret identities. 

Everyone looked at each other in worry wondering what this could mean for the teams future. 

“Oh guys it’s so not the drama, your secrets safe with me.” Kim then assured. 

So one by one each member of BH6 removed their helmets/masks revealing their true identities and Honey Lemon put her glasses back on her face. 

“So how’d you know it was us?” Hiro asked. 

“Well for starters when I first saw Big Hero 6 and the tech they were using I could see that it looked a lot similar to each of your friends majors.” Kim began to explain. “Chemistry, mag lev suspension, laser induced plasma and of course Freds super hero theme all applied with the use of robotics, which with Hiro being a super genius could engineer.”

The team listened with interest and Ron as always was impressed by Kim’s deductive skills. 

“Plus when you told me that robot gauntlet was a souvenir from Alister Krei I could tell by your micro expressions that you were lying.” Hiro could only rub his neck in embarrassment as Gogo glared.

“And the final thing being, Tadashi’s death, his connection to the fire at SFIT and Professor Callaghan AKA Yokai. The fact being that Big Hero 6 appeared during his attack on Krei tech that day. Plus the coloured visors they’re terrible identity concealers.” Kim finished.

Everyone’s jaws dropped with amazement how could she have put together all the dots in such a way to find out their identities.

“Wow very impressive.” Gogo said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah told you she could do anything.” Ron added.

“Yeah that and being the daughter of a rocket scientist and brain surgeon doesn’t hurt.” Kim then added. 

“But I’m surprised that you were obviously followed all the way here and didn’t even notice, you’ve got to work on your security training.” 

“Wow, we do need to keep our eyes open or we’ll be blind.” Said a drunk Baymax. 

“Uh is he okay?” Ron asked. “Uh yeah he’s just low on batteries.” Hiro explained. 

Soon Baymax was out of his armour and on his charging station recharging his batteries. He begins to reinflate as he recharges. Meanwhile the rest of the team talk things over with Team Possible. 

 “So, now that you know are you going to tell my aunt Cass about this?” Hiro asked with worry. 

“No I’m....” “it’s just if she ever found out about this she’d literally put me under house arrest she worries a lot like a lot and.” Hiro said interrupting Kim. 

“Hiro!” Kim said getting his attention. “I’m not going to tell anyone about your identities.” 

“Oh.” Hiro said. “Actually when I first heard about Big Hero 6 I started doing some research I’ve seen the work you’ve done to help people and I’m pretty impressed how you’ve handled supervillains and kept the city safe.” Kim explained.

“But I do want to know why you decided to become super heroes in the first place?” She then asked. “Yeah I mean every super hero has a cool origin story.” Ron added as Rufus nodded his head.

Hiro took his time to answer but knew that since Kim and Ron now knew who they were that it was time to share why they do what they do. 

“Tadashi.” Hiro said then turned his attention to Baymax. “Show them Baymax.” 

Baymax’s chest monitor then lit up and began showing his video logs of Hiro’s brother building Baymax. 

“This is Tadashi Hamada.” He said introducing himself. Kim and Ron looked at the screen as did the rest of the team. 

“And this is the first test of my robotics project.” Tadashi then said holding up a black board with the words test 1 on it and he began testing his invention. 

“Hello, I am Baymax.....” Suddenly Baymax’s voice generated feedback which nearly deafens Tadashi. 

“Stop, stop stop stop!” Tadashi said as he quickly shut Baymax off. 

Kim saw who exactly this was whilst Ron was all but puzzled. However he saw the looks on the faces of everyone watching the video and could see some of them were happy and nearly brought to tears by the sight of this. 

“So is that...” “Yeah that’s Tadashi.” Hiro answered Rons question. 

The footage then moved onto the next entry log of the tests. 

“The seventh test of my robotics project.” Tadashi announced. He then activated Baymax to test him again. 

“Hello, I am Baymax.” Baymax said but suddenly began punching Tadashi with his inflated hands his left hand then flew off like a balloon quite literally. 

Tadashi held onto Baymax to try and get him to stop. 

“Wait wait stop scan stop!” Tadashi exclaimed. 

The next log showed Tadashi was completely exhausted, with bags under his eyes completely sleep deprived. 

“Tadashi Hamada again, and this is the thirty third test of my robotics project. He then said tired out.

Suddenly there was a spark and it completely took out the lights in his lab rendering leaving him in complete darkness. 

Tadashi then shines a torch  and looks over his creation though he was looking doubtful of making it work he wasn’t one to quit. 

“I’m not giving up on you.” Tadashi sighed. “You don’t understand this yet but people need you, so let’s get back to work.” Tadashi said shutting down Baymax to begin testing again. 

Kim just looked at the video in awe, she knew that Hiro’s brother built Baymax but didn’t know he saw difficulties doing it he persisted not giving up. She had to admit she was starting to admire him. 

The footage then moved to the next log it was the afternoon and Tadashi was looking a little tired after working hard through the night. 

“This is Tadashi Hamada, and this is the 84th” Tadashi sighed before continuing. “Test, what do you say big guy?” 

Tadashi activates Baymax and waits for another fault. 

“Hello, I am Baymax your personal healthcare companion.” Baymax said. 

Tadashi could only look in complete shock and surprise to see that his creation was operational and working. 

“It works.” He breathed. “IT WORKS!” Tadashi then shouted. ‘This is amazing! You, you work!” He said kissing Baymax in joy dancing with delight and excitement. 

“I knew it I knew it I knew iiiit!” He squealed. “You work I can’t believe it!” 

Ron nudged Kim’s shoulder and saw that there was a lone tear running down Hiro’s face and they could tell that he missed his brother. 

“Alright, alright big moment here.” Tadashi said as he stepped back ready for the biggest test of all. 

“Scan me.” Tadashi said and Baymax did as he was asked. 

“Your Nero transmitter levels are elevated, this indicates that you are happy.” Baymax diagnosed. 

“I am I really am.” Tadashi said in joy. “Oh man, wait till my brother sees you, your going to help so many people buddy.” 

Honey Lemon hugged Gogo slightly whilst Wasabi put a hand on Fred’s shoulder. 

“So.. many, that’s all for now, I’m satisfied with my care.” Tadashi said with a smile. The recording then ended and there was a minute of silence before Hiro broke it. 

“He wanted to help a lot of people, he cared, that’s why he worked so hard to create Baymax.” Hiro said gesturing you his robot friend. 

“So you became superheroes to, honour his memory?” Ron asked. 

“Well it didn’t really start that way at first, we did this to just catch the guy responsible for his death.” Hiro explained as the rest of his friends came over. 

“But after we saved everyone at Krei tech then after I enrolled at SFIT and stopping an army of rouge Baymaxes.” Hiro said. Kim could see where this was going. 

“The last thing that Tadashi ever said to me was, someone has to help.” Hiro explained. “So, that’s what we decided to do.” 

“Yeah Tadashi was our best friend, in a way his dream lives in all of us.” Honey Lemon added. 

Kim couldn’t help but smile at what she’d just heard, she knew they had the best of intentions and couldn’t help but relate to that sure when she first started out she didn’t ask to be a hero but after saving a billionaire collector and many other things after that, she knew this was her path.

“I see, well I know you guys have the best of intentions but Shego isn’t like most villains you’ve faced.” Kim then said. 

“I thinks that’s pretty obvious.” Wasabi said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah even with our tech we have no way to fight her.” Honey Lemon said. “Come on guys we can’t just give up!” Gogo argued. 

“Yeah didn’t stop us before won’t now!” Fred said standing dramatically. 

“With our current skills I calculate our chances 0.000” Baymax explained. “Baymax no need for the number crunching.” Hiro said.

The team could see they would need to do something to be able to handle the likes of Shego but Kim seemed confident about what to do in this situation. 

“No big guys we can handle Shego and Drakken just leave this to us.” Kim said. “Ron, Rufus let’s go.” 

“Right behind you KP.” Ron said Hiro was all but shocked to see they were going to stop Shego by themselves however they had been following the case too and they couldn’t just let this go after tonight. 

“Hold on!” Hiro said getting the duos attention. 

“We’re coming too.” Hiro said standing forward. 

“It’s okay guys we got this.” Ron assured. “No.” Hiro said with confidence. “We have to help, my brother would have.” 

“Besides San Fransokyo is our turf, we’re not going to stand by and let this green lady or her boss wreck it.” Gogo said. “So you’ll need our help, like it or not.” 

“Yeah.” Said the rest of the team. In response to that the teen hero could only smile in response. 

“Good, that was actually a test, to see how committed you were to what you do, and I’m happy to say you’ve passed.” Kim said. “We could use help navigating this city.” 

Hiro could only smile in pride and relief. “Oh yeah I’m sensing a super hero team up!” Fred said practically jumping up and down in excitement. 

“Okay geek cool your jets.” Gogo said. “Yeah we still need a plan to take on this Shego.” Wasabi agreed. 

“Well maybe it’s best if we first get our facts straight.” Hiro said gesturing to his board of all the locations that Shego has robbed over the past week. 

“Hiro, you are due to wake up in 2 hours, sleep is recommended.” Baymax said 

“I guess your right Baymax we’ll talk more in the morning.” Hiro agreed to which Kim nodded because even heroes need their sleep. 

Drakken’s lair

Meanwhile as San Fransokyo slept Drakken’s evil mind was at work using the equipment stolen he began assembling something in his lair. All the while his henchmen were moving the components into place. 

“Now thanks to those plans we stole from the Krei tech servers our plans are now moving into place.” Drakken said as he worked. “Soon the world shall know my name and tremble before my genius! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“So you’ve said the last 23 times Dr.D.” Shego said filing her nails. “Quiet Shego your harshing my mellow!” Drakken said harshly.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Shego said when she continued to do her nails. Suddenly an alert sounded from her phone and she looked to see she had received an email, from an anonymous sender. She opened it only to reveal a strange monster symbol in purple on her phone and then. 

“Greetings, I have a proposition I’d like to discuss with you  Miss Shego, I’ve attached directions come alone.” Said a voice from the phone. The message then disappeared. 

Shego was very much surprised, how could someone know her contact details only Drakken knew that, but at the same time she wanted to know how someone could find her. There was only one way to find out.

The Water front San Fransokyo bay:

In the dark of the night fog surrounded San Fransokyo harbour all was quiet in the air soon a figure arrived at the waterfront she was wearing a dark green jacket brand new Club Banana. It was Shego, she had to admit she was a little skeptic about this meeting but was never the less curious. 

It wasn’t clear but she could make out a faint light in the dark it was neon purple and it looked like a thin one sided skull face. 

The fog cleared to reveal Obake standing in the fog. 

“I see you decided to come.” Obake said smirking. 

“Okay, you got my attention what do you want.” Shego demanded. 

“Oh I have been watching you for a while my dear, and I merely wanted to meet someone of great potential.” Obake said simply. 

“Watching me?” Shego asked. “Yes, ever since you and your employer Dr.Drakken arrived in the city.” Obake said. “And I must say the power you have has a lot of potential, potential such as that shouldn’t be wasted on an amateur like him, for you see there is no limit to the potential you have, I learned that from an old friend of mine long ago” Shego listened you what this stranger had to say and a small part of her couldn’t wonder if he was right. 

“ That is why when the opportunity arose I decided to test you’re potential against another with similar ambitions.” Obake then said.

“Wait you sent that ninja lady!” Shego said in surprise. “Yes you see in truth I had no interest with that hard drive, I merely sent her to test your abilities against her. However the arrival of Miss Possible and Big Hero 6 did complicate things it did prove how much potential you have.” Obake said. 

“You said you had a preposition for me, what’s that supposed to mean?” Shego asked. 

“Why to merely have you consider what I’ve said, and to provide you with the means to expand your potential.” Obake said as he stood aside to reveal a small black crate. Shego was all but curious at this point. 

“Consider this a gift.” Obake said as he walked away. 

“Oh and if and when this scheme of your employers goes awry, you’ll know how to find me.” Obake said as the left side of his face glowed and disappeared into the mist. 

Shego used her powers to give a light in the mist to look for the stranger but couldn’t find him all that was left was the small black crate that he left for her. Being curious she opened the crate and found something inside, something that intrigued her. 

The following morning

As the sun shon on a new morning in San Fransokyo Kim and Ron were making their way to the Lucky Cat Cafe. They entered the cafe to see Cass seeing to her customers. 

“Morning Cass.” Kim called. “Oh morning Kimmie” Cass greeted. “Please Cass call me Kim.” Kim insisted. “Oh sorry your mother still washes off on me, even after high school.” Cass said. 

“Right so is Hiro around?” Ron asked. ‘“Oh of course Ron he’s in his garage with Baymax Gogo and the others just recently got here.” Cass said. 

“Right thanks” Kim thanked as she walked through to the back. “So how do you handle being...” Kim quickly pulled Ron away before he could blurt out anything. 

In the garage, the team was gathered, Hiro was working at his computer whilst Baymax scanned Gogo. 

“Gogo, you appear to have fully recovered from your minor concussion.” Baymax said. 

“Thanks Baymax but I’ve taken worse falls than that.” Gogo thanked. 

“So guys is anyone but me excited for this super team up with Kim Possible!” Fred said bouncing round in excitement. 

“Fred calm down.” Wasabi said. “Yeah besides this is a collaboration.” Gogo said. “Yeah to take down a common enemy.” Fred said “classic super hero team up, just like the time Captain Fancy teamed up with another super hero to take down their arch foes who teamed up!” 

“You read Captain Fancy?” Called a voice and they turned to see Kim and Ron standing in the garage doorway. 

“Oh hey guys.” Honey Lemon greeted. “Glad you could make it.” Hiro said. 

“Now, let’s have the sitch about what Shego’s been doing in the city.” Kim said. 

Soon Hiro pulled out his large board from the back of his garage showing all the Krei tech facilities that Shego has hit over the past week. 

“Okay, over the last week Krei tech has had several break ins at their warehouses in the city and we’ve been tracking them.” Hiro explained. 

“Yeah and at each one different things were stolen tech pieces both cybernetic and mechatronics.” Gogo then explained. 

“At first we thought it might have been one of our enemies like maybe Momakaske or Yama.” Wasabi added. 

“But it was actually Shego, who’s been taking these items for Drakken.” Kim eventually surmised. 

“Yeah so what’s the deal with that blue skinned guy?” Fred asked. 

“Right best you guys know what your dealing with, but it’s best to late Wade snow you.” Kim said. 

“Who’s Wade?” Asked Honey Lemon. Then all of a sudden the holo computer near the front of the garage lit up showing Wade in his room at the computers. 

“That’s me” Wade said startling everyone. 

“Guys, this is Wade our resident super genius and our secret weapon.” Ron introduced. “Wade meet Big Hero 6” Ron then gestured to the team in the garage. 

“Dude!” Hiro panicked. “Guys relax Wade can keep a secret.” Kim assured chuckling. “Yeah plus Hiro, he’s a super genius like you and graduated college at 13.” Ron added. 

“All are true.” Wade said. “Well okay, I’m Hiro.” Hiro introduced. 

“Hello I am Baymax.” Baymax introduced with a wave. 

“That’s Gogo.” Hiro gestured and she just blew a bubble gum ball. “He’s Wasabi” “How you doing” Wasabi greeted. “That’s Honey Lemon.” “Hello there.” Honey Lemon greeted. 

“And I’m Fred” Fred said introducing himself. 

“Pleasure guys been reading up on you guys pretty impressive.” Wade complimented. 

“Okay Wade show them everything we have on Drakken and Shego.” Kim said. 

“Right showing files now.” Wade typed in some commands on his keyboard and showed files on Drakken and Shego. 

“Well as you guys have probably guessed Shego is an ex superhero gone rouge, and she works with Dr. Drakken.” Kim explained. “Drakken is your typical mad scientist who wants to conquer the world, he never does though. His real name is Drew Lipsky he was once a friend of my Dad in college.”

“Wait he was a friend of your dads!” Hiro said in surprise. 

“Oh.. a twist I’m liking this origin story more and more.” Fred said sitting down on a chair. Gogo just nudged him. 

“Yeah but he dropped out when he couldn’t build a good robot and his friends laughed at him.” Kim added. 

“Classic!” Fred said. “But what’s with the blue skin?” Wasabi asked. “Maybe he turned blue with sadness.” Honey Lemon guessed. 

“Blue skin is often what happens when someone holds their breath for a long period of time.” Baymax diagnoses with a diagram on his chest monitor. 

“I have a theory.” Fred said with a knowing finger pointing up. “When he was laughed out he must’ve accidentally fallen into a vat of chemicals which turned his skin blue and made him a little insane.” 

Everyone looked in surprise, to what Fred just said Baymax just blinked. 

“Wow that’s actually a good theory.” Wade said in surprise. 

“Yep never underestimate the power of comic books” Fred said proudly. 

“Okay, so back to the matter of Shego, what could she want with these components?” Hiro said. 

“Knowing Drakken it could be another one of his take over the world schemes.” Kim said. “Now they know you guys are onto them we’ll need to work together to stop them and figure out what they’re up to.”

“Great, but don’t we need a plan we haven’t fought someone like Shego before.” Wasabi asked. 

“Well you guys are good and judging by the security footage you stood your ground against Shego, but you need to learn how to fight better to stand a chance against foes like her.” Kim explained. 

“So I’m going to train you guys how to fight and how to better use your tech in team work.” 

“Oh yeah! IT’S SHUGYO TIME!” Fred exclaimed taking a kung fu training pose. “To the mansion!” 

Fred’s Mansion the gardens

Soon everyone was gathered in Fred’s back garden which was rather large with very Greek like architecture structures and statues. Everyone was now dressed in training attire; Hiro wore a white shirt with his normal pants and sneakers, Wasabi was in his yoga gear which was a green shirtless vest with black pants and shoes. Gogo just wore her white shirt with her black pants and leggings. Honey Lemon was in her yoga gear and both were bare foot. Fred meanwhile was in a training suit. 

“Dude this back yard is huge!” Ron said in amazement with Rufus looking wide eyes.  

“Yeah we train here with our suits sometimes.” Fred explained “You see that statue over there.” Fred then gestured to what was left of a statue that was destroyed by something. 

“Baymax wrecked it with his rocket fist when we first got our suits.” Fred then explained. 

“Whoa!” Rufus squeaked. “But weren’t your parents tweaked about that?” Ron said concerned. 

“Nah my dad didn’t like that anyway it was imported from someplace called the Southern Isles they didn’t want it for some reason so my mom bought it.”Fred then added. 

“Alright guys gather up.” Kim called who was now dressed in training gear of her own which was comprised of a pink short sleeved crop top, dark pink yoga pants and sneakers with a grey shirt underneath. Everyone soon gathered as she placed down some training gear such as punching pads. 

“Okay guys in order to stop your opponent you first need to know more about how they fight.” Kim explained. “So when you first fought Shego what did you see?” 

“Shes fast.” Hiro said “Mean!” Fred said “Fights dirty” Gogo then added. “Loves the colour green” Honey added. “And uses plasma blasts!” Wasabi then said. 

“All good answers.” Kim said with a thumbs up. “Shego’s style is all about attack and going on the offensive, and yes she uses energy blasts which trust me sting if you get hit.” 

“Got that notion.” Gogo said remembering her fight with her last night.

“So, how do we fight someone like that?” Honey Lemon asked. “By learning how to fight better and use teamwork.” Kim said “Now lets get you guys in fighting shape.” 

(Music Starts: Call me Beep me Sadie Stanley)

Kim holds up some punching pads in her hands and Gogo begins punching them followed by some kicks and Kim manages to block them all. Soon she and Wasabi are facing each other on the grass. Kim motioned for Wasabi to come at her, though he was a little hesitant at first he knew this was training so he charged forwards and threw a few punches which Kim dodged and then grabbed Wasabi’s arm and flipped him onto his back. 

Hiro was lasting a little longer when training against Kim she threw a few punches and kicks whilst Hiro avoided some of them and Hiro threw a few punches of his own. However Kim did a leg swipe and tripped Hiro up. 

He looked up and saw Kim offering a hand smiling which he took. 

Ron meanwhile sat on the sidelines with Rufus, Mini max and Baymax. Those who weren’t training namely Hiro, Wasabi and Fred were sat resting and with towels. 

Meanwhile Kim was doing a two on one with Honey Lemon and Gogo, they came at Kim with punches and kicks which Kim was able to block, and gave advice whilst doing so. 

“Remember coordinate like a team.” Kim said between kicks and punches. So the two responded by working as a team Gogo slipped past Kim whilst Honey Lemon threw a roundhouse kick and Gogo came up from behind and performed a leg swipe tripping Kim up who was quick to recover. She looked to the two impressed knowing they were learning. She then came in with back flips and then performed several round house kicks. 

From his viewing point Hiro was amazed by Kims fighting skills but given she said she was a cheerleader it did help a little, however when he looked to Baymax an idea soon sparked in his head. 

Later at the garage, Hiro was typing at his holo computer keyboard and was looking at recordings of their training session and Kims fighting skills. He knew exactly what to do with this. However, he then noticed Rufus was in the lab and looking at Baymax’s armour lying around and he saw the little mole rat was pretending he was firing rocket fists from his hands. Hiro could only chuckle a little but he then got an idea and so slid his chair over to the rear desk and picked up a small scanning device. 

“Hey Rufus.” Hiro called getting his attention. “Arms up and hold still.” He then said and Rufus a little confused held his arms up and Hiro scanned him creating a 3D render in his computer. 

Back at the mansion Kim had set up an obstacle course for a training exercise the course consisted of several benches hoops and even a balancing beam.Fred was suited up in his Fredzilla suit. Kim then ran forward and performed some of her cheer leading moves back flips on the benches, swinging on the hoops and then bouncing on the beam to back flip and land on two feet. She then gestured for Fred to try.

“Oh yeah!” Fred said putting on the top half of his suit on then charged in. “SUPER JUMP!” He exclaimed. He performed a super back flip with the enhanced springs in his suit and then jumped and then swung round the hoops and launched forwards jumps on the board and finally span in a circle breathing fire from his suit and landed on the ground in a dynamic super hero pose!

Kim nodded in approval of Freds success. Soon she was facing Wasabi again and this time he was more confident in his hand to hand combat skills and was able to avoid Kims leg swipe and then performs a round house kick knocking her to the ground. She saw him offering a hand which she took. Hiro too was improving not only with his own knowledge of self defense compliments of his brother, but with Kims help. 

He was able to avoid water blasts from water guns that Ron was firing at him from behind a cardboard cut out of Shego. Gogo who was now wearing her mag lev skates slide past all the water blasts grabbed Hiro’s hand and then swung him towards the target and gave it a round house kick. 

Hiro and Gogo gave each other high fives. Back in the garage Hiro was transferring data to something and out of a disk burner came a small data chip coloured in green. He then placed Kims signature logo on the chip compliments of Wade. He then went over to Baymax and opened his access port revealing his health care and superhero chip. 

“Okay buddy ready to take it to the next level.” Hiro asked. “Doing shugyo makes me a better health care companion.” Baymax replied and so Hiro placed the chip into Baymax which then retracted into his chest. 

Soon everyone was taking a break from their training and soon Hiro arrived with Baymax armoured up. Hiro then laid out some small devices in the garden and then opened his laptop typed in several commands and then Wade appeared on his desktop. 

“Okay Wade let it rip!” Hiro said “Right initiating training exercise.” Wade said as he typed in several commands and then activated devices which then projected holograms of several villains including Baron Von Steamer, Shego, High Voltage and Duff Killigan. 

“Baymax Go!” Hiro said and Baymax responded by rocketing forward and the holograms became aware. Holo Steamer fired a huge blast of steam which Baymax then formed his wings flew up into the air then came slamming down to the ground fist first, knocking the hologram to the ground. 

Holo High Voltage then attacked, and Baymax was quick to avoid it and rocket forwards performing a round house kick then saw Shego coming and backflipped over her back and in slow-motion fired his rocket fist from his left hand and knocked down the two holograms in one shot.

Kim was all but amazed by Baymax’s abilities and noticed how his fighting style was similar to hers, she then remembered how Hiro told her he’d made a chip full of combat programs for the original Baymax (the one Tadashi built) when they were starting out. So it was clear he had programmed him with her skills. 

Holo Duff then fired some explosive golfballs and Baymax quickly reacted by deflecting two with his left hand then jumped into the air rolled into a ball then kicked away the next three that holo Duff fired which didn’t hit him but Baymax then landed in front of him and then just looked down on him. 

“Aye I surrender!” Said Holo Duff and with that Wade and Hiro ended the exercise and the hologram disappeared.

(Music ends)

“Whooo!” Fred said in excitement. “That was amazing Baymax!” Honey Lemon said. “Not bad.” Gogo said. “Boyah Baymax!” Ron said excitedly. 

“Spankin job big guy.” Kim congratulated. Baymax then turned round to Kim and lifted up his right fist. 

“Uh..” Kim said confused. “Now we fist bump.” Baymax then said blinking. 

“Wait you know how to fist bump?” Kim said with a raised eyebrow. “Yes Hiro taught it to me.” Baymax replied. 

“Yeah I kinda did.” Hiro said rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Come on KP just go with it.” Ron suggested. “Don’t leave him hanging” 

Kim decided to just listen to Ron and the others and so. 

“Okay.” Kim then fist bumped with Baymax. “Bah-la-la-la-la-la-la” Baymax then said wiggling his fingers in the air after the bump leaving Kim with an even more confused look than before. 

Just then Kim’s Kimmunicator beeped and she answered it. “Go Wade.” She said. 

“Kim you guys may want to check the latest news casts.” Wade advised then bringing up a news report from San Fransokyo and their reporter Duff Blunder was on the scene. 

“This is Duff Blunder reporting live from San Fransokyo bridge where citizens are being attacked by what appears to be three individuals with jet packs.” Duff said through his microphone as he was on the bridge with panicking citizens. Suddenly dropping from the air came three armoured individuals two men and a woman each wore matching black armoured suits with grey underneath and red visors on their faces.

The first was a caucasian male with blonde hair and a muscular build, with a darker beard than his hair colour. The second was a dark skinned male who is bald and has a dark beard on his face and is more muscular than his compatriots. The woman was tanned skinned has long brown hair but a shaved off part on the right side of her head and wears red lipstick. 

“I’ll take that thanks!” Jack said snatching the microphone off Duff blunder and looking into the camera. 

“Hi there the names Jack, these are my compatriots Jaq and Jack” He said introducing his compatriots who took up action poses. 

“Together we are the Mad Jacks, normally we’re mercenaries for hire but today we’re making an acceptation several months ago we were humiliated and defeated and so I hereby announce a challenge to Big Hero 6, unless they agree to face us at the bridge my associates and I shall detonate bombs at key points under the bridge.” Greg Jack announced 

“So what’ll it be Heroes? you have two hours don’t keep us waiting.” Greg Jack said. 

The team looked at the footage in shock especially Hiro and his friends. 

“Old friends of yours?” Ron asked “Not exactly.” Hiro said. 

“Yeah the Mad Jacks are villains we’ve faced before their an elite special ops unit who work for the highest bidder.” Fred explained. 

“I’ve heard about them professional mercenaries for hire, and I thought Team Impossible gloated a lot.” Kim said. 

“Well Hiro was able to help us stop them despite being sick and with a broken leg.” Wasabi then explained. 

“Whoa talk about being a stubborn patient.” Kim pointed out. “Well if you think about it KP you went on a mission when we were full of a cold.” Ron pointed out remembering their Sick Day episode. 

“So it looks like their back for a rematch.” Gogo said. “Then it’s time we put our training to the test.” Hiro suggested. “Hey guys care to give us a hand?” 

“No need to ask we’re in.” Kim said confidently. “Okay guys suit up!” Hiro then announced. 

The team each suited up in their armours and bore their gadgets, whilst Kim and Ron dressed in their normal mission clothes Kim span her hair dryer grappling hook round her finger then placed it into her belt pouch. Then Rufus appeared and Ron noticed he was wearing armour identical to Baymax’s except it was in the same colour scheme as Kims mission suit and he wore the armour on his chest and hands. 

“Whoa Rufus sweet armour!” Ron said “Yep” Rufus squeaked. “Yeah saw him taking an interest in Baymax’s suit so I made him one of his own.” Hiro said and soon everyone was riding Baymax’s back as he rocketed across the city with his jet boosters. 

Hiro rode on Baymax using his magnetic gloves and pads while Gogo, Honey Lemon and Kim held onto the wings while on Baymax. Rufus held onto Kim as well. 

“Okay I’ll admit this is a killer view.” Kim said impressed. “Maybe if you were on his back!” Ron called as he and Wasabi were holding onto Baymax’s arms while he held onto Fred via his suit collar and he was posing like super man as Fred pretended to fly.

Ron wasn’t enjoying a single moment of this. “This is not cool man!” He said practically yelling. 

“How’d you think I feel I’m terrified of heights!” Wasabi exclaimed to Ron. 

Soon they were approaching their destination and the police were doing the best they could to barricade people off the bridge until the crisis was over.

“Look!” Called a woman and they saw Big Hero 6 and Team Possible arrive on the scene and the crowd cheered knowing the heroes had arrived. 

Baymax landed on the bridge and the rest of the team disembarked, however there was no sign of the Mad Jacks anywhere. 

“Where are they?” Honey Lemon said the rest of the team looked around but were a little cautious, Kim didn’t like the looks of this one little bit. 

Baymax scanned the area for any sign of trouble and when he looked up he saw something alarming. 

“Oh no” Baymax said and Kim looked up to see what he was alerting them about and her eyes widened in shock.

“LOOK OUT!” Kim shouted and everyone jumped out of the way of an incoming laser blast and were quick to avoid the impact. Everyone quickly recovered and got back up on their feet just as the Mad Jacks floated down using their jet packs.

“Well look who decided to show.” Said Jaq with a smirk. 

“So you guys still sore about us beating you last time?!” Hiro said “Oh you mean how you outsmarted and humiliated us!” Greg Jack said with a smirk.

“Well now it’s payback time!” Jack grunted. “Oh and I see you have help, your going to need it.” Greg Jack said noticing the presence of Kim and Ron. 

“Mad Jacks lets take em” Greg Jack yells and they fly in and attack, the team then scatter Hiro climbs aboard Baymax who takes to the sky after the three villains. 

“Jack, Jaq, take care of the six on the ground I’ll take care of the big bot and their leader.” Greg Jack ordered. “Copy that!” Said the two Jacks. Baymax and Hiro began chasing Greg Jack in the sky whilst the rest of the team take on the other two. 

The two Mad Jacks pull out their laser blasters and try to blast the team. Gogo and Honey Lemon jump to the left whilst Kim, Ron, Fred and Wasabi jumped to the right. 

“We need to find those bombs if they go off everyone still on this bridge will be toast.” Gogo said. 

Kim then reached for her Kimmunicator. “Wade scan for the bombs!” Kim said “Way ahead of you.” Wade said and after a few typing commands on his keyboard he soon heard a beep sounding that he found what he was looking for. 

“Got it! They’re under the bridge on the centre support!” Wade relayed as he showed a diagram of the bridge. 

“Wade put me through to Hiro!” Kim ordered. Meanwhile Hiro and Baymax were in a dog fight with Greg Jack who was trying to shoot them down with his laser bazooka. 

“Eat laser bot!” Greg Jack exclaimed. Baymax was able to doge the blasts and Hiro held on to his back. 

“Hiro you there!?” Kim said on the coms. “Yeah kinda busy!” Hiro replied. “We’ve located the bombs there under the bridge, near the centre support.” Kim relayed. 

Hiro looked down to the bridge and with the scanner in his helmet scanned the bridge and zoomed in to see several bomb like devices attached to the bridge. 

“I see them.” Hiro relayed. 

Back on the bridge the rest of the team were contending with Jack and Jaq. Gogo used her mag lev skates to skate and avoid the blasts then jumps and throws her mag lev disks at Jack which he then deflects. 

“That all you got speedy!” Jack exclaimed. “Okay time to use our training.” Gogo said 

“Honey let’s ground these chumps.” Gogo said “ Thought you’d never ask.” Honey Lemon said as she typed in a formula on her chem-purse and made two chem balls and threw the, both at the bridge supports, they explode and expand into a splat wall of elastic goop. 

(Music starts playing- Immortals Fallout boy)

Gogo then kneels down on all fours and revs up on her discs and launched herself forward into the ‘sling shot’ and pulled back all the way to the other end of the support until she was catapulted forwards into the air, heading straight for jack pulled back a fist then POW right in the face which sent him flying into the pillar at the far side of the bridge. 

Gogo then skated as she landed on the ground and Honey Lemon rushed to her. 

“Oh yeah Speed punch!” Gogo said “way to go Gogo!” Honey Lemon said giving her a high five. However they didn’t notice that Jaq was flying towards them. 

“Guys heads up!” Ron called to them they turned and saw Jaq arming her arm cannons. “Your Jacked!” Jaq yelled but suddenly. 

“SUPER JUMP!” Called a voice and she saw Fredzilla jumping in the air above her. 

“FLYING DROP KICK!” Fred yelled and performed a drop kick mid air knocking Jaq to the ground. Honey Lemon peeped a Chem ball and tossed it to Ron. “Throw it Ron.” Homey said and so he threw it to the spot where Jaq landed and it created a pink goo ball trapping her inside. 

“Grr!” Jaq growled as she couldn’t get out of the ball no matter what she tried. 

“You just got gooped” Ron cracked. “Boo yah!” Rufus squeaked. He then noticed Kim was not with them. Kim was below the bridge using some magnetic discs. She held the Kimmunicator up to the bombs so that Wade could properly scan them. 

“Kim I’ve got bad news!” Wade said. “Okay let’s hear it.” Kim asked. 

“Well, the bad news is the bombs can’t be disarmed manually there’s about five different triggers.” Wade explained. “Is there a way to disable it?” Kim asked with worry. 

“Yes disable the master detonator and that’ll disarm the bombs.” Wade surmised. 

“Well where is the trigger?” Kim asked. “I’ll scan for it” Wade began scanning for the bomb trigger and soon found it.

“Oh boy.” Wade said 

Baymax and Hiro were still in the air fighting Greg Jack who is chasing them with his laser bazooka Baymax was able to avoid the blast Hiro looks back and sees the Mad Jack behind them. 

“Hiro there’s a way to disarm the bombs!” Kim relayed on the coms. “Okay what is it?” Hiro asked. 

“The guy chasing you he has it, it’s located in his gauntlet on the left wrist.” Kim relayed. “Right that’s going to be a problem.” Hiro said seeing how Greg Jack was dead set on shooting the, down. 

From the bridge Kim could see the issue and from her back pack forms her jet pack and rockets into the sky. 

Back on the bridge the Police try to keep the crowd back within that crowd was Karmi who was trying to record what was happening. However she looked up to see Baymax and Hiro or as she knew them Captain Cutie and Red Panda fighting Greg Jack whilst the rest of the team deal with Jack who had regained consciousness. Then all of a sudden she saw a figure emerge fro, the bridge she zoomed in on it using her phones camera. 

“No way is that!” Karmi gasped her phone camera showed her it was Kim Possible fighting alongside Big Hero 6 she couldn’t believe it.

Meanwhile Baymax launches his rocket fist at Greg Jack, who used his jet pack to avoid it then fires his blaster at them which Baymax quickly avoids it as his fist returns to him. 

Then suddenly Greg Jack received a kick in the back delivered by Kim Possible he manages to stabilise himself and looked to see Kim just as Baymax flew next to her with Hiro. 

“You got the drop on me impressive miss...” “The names Kim Possible, ring a bell.” Kim said answering Greg Jacks question. 

“Oh yeah now I remember your the hero with a lame website it doesn’t even have a cool theme song.” Greg Jack cracked. 

“Says the guys all called the same name, Greg” Hiro then cracked. “Wait your names Greg but your all called the Mad Jacks?” Kim asked “yeah it’s really a code name found that out when we first fought and won.” Hiro then added. 

Greg Jack just growled with frustration. “Enough talk time to blast stuff!” He yelled as he blasted the two of them but they quickly avoided the blast. 

He kept blasting the three heroes with his bazooka until finally he clipped the wing of Kim’s jet pack causing her to spin out of control.

“Kim!” Hiro yelled, Kim quickly managed to get her jet pack off but was still falling to the ground Baymax quickly rockets down after her and reaches out with his hand. Reacting quickly Kim pulls out her grappling hair dryer and fires it towards Baymax who grabs it and swings it round lifting her into the air for her to land on Baymax’s back. 

Her grappling hook retracts leaving Hiro completely amazed. 

“You always carry a hair dryer with you?” Hiro said in amazement. 

“Never leave home without one, it’s saved me on multiple occasions not just life and death but also hair crisis.” Kim breathed. 

Suddenly Baymax avoided another blast from Greg Jack and flew away as he chased him. 

“He is still shooting at us.” Baymax said “no kidding, we’ve got to get that detenator!” Kim said to Hiro, “Then we’ll need to ground him.” Hiro suggested. 

(Music ends)

Back on the ground Wasabi was using his plasma blades to deflect blasts from Jack who was recovered and blasting them with his wrist blasters. Ron was running quickly to avoid them. 

“Yow, yikes!” Ron said avoiding the blasts. Fred then charged forwards and using his suits enhanced jumping skills he performed a triple back flip.

 “Homey chem ball me!” Fredzilla said and she fired a pink chemball from her purse and on the third flip Fredzilla kicked the ball into Jack and the chemball exploded and stuck him to the ground. 

“Boyah Fred!” Ron cheered. However their celebration was interrupted by the sound of laser fire they looked up to see Baymax, Hiro and Kim struggling against Greg Jack and getting the detonator from him. 

“We’ve gotta help them!” Honey Lemon said. “They’re too high up and none of us can fly.” Gogo said knowing that Baymax was the only one on the team who could fly. Or was he? 

Rufus pulled on Rons shirt and he saw that his mole rat friend was wearing armour similar to Baymax including its ability to fly. 

“Wait, Rufus! You can help them!” Ron said and Rufus nodded and almost on cue wings emerged from his armour and he posed like superman and rocketed into the sky. 

“Go get um!” Ron called which left the rest of the team skeptical looks as to how a small mole rat can help their friends. 

Greg Jack is going all out trying to shoot Baymax down he was beaten by these heroes before there’s no way he was going to let this happen again it would be an insult to his profession. 

However he felt a tap on his head and he turned to see a small pink rodent dressed up in armour with a jet pack. 

“Whuh?” Greg Jack said in surprise. “Hello” Rufus squeaked he then kicks Greg Jack in the face who cries in. Pain as he got hit in the mouth Rufus quickly flies away and Greg tries to grab him but misses. 

“Hold still you little..” Greg jack growled and Rufus just spits his tongue like a child which winds up the Mad Jack even more. 

However he’s so focused on the armoured naked mole rat he neglected a certain someone coming right at him. 

“Hey!” Called a voice and Greg Jack turns to see Baymax heading right for him with Hiro and Kim riding him. However strangely as Greg braces for impact he sees the flying red robot missed him as he flew right by. 

“Ha! You missed!” He shouted. Suddenly Hiro lands on his back and then hits a button on Greg’s jet pack which releases it from his armour. 

“Oh no...” Greg Jack gulped. “JACK DOWN AGAAAAIIIIIN!” He yelled as he fell to the ground and Hiro was falling right behind him but then Baymax swings in and Kim manages to grab him as they fly down and grab Greg Jack and lower him to the ground safely. 

“Nice one guys!” Honey Lemon cheered just then Rufus hovers down and lands on Baymax’s shoulder who turns to see him. 

“Flying makes you a better companion Rufus.” Baymax said and Rufus smiles and offers his tiny fist for a. “Fist bump” he squeaked. 

Baymax raises his fist and they bump them. 

“ “Bah-la-la-la-la-la-la” The two said. “So” said Greg Jack getting their attention. “You think this is over?” 

“Uh yeah.” Kim said taking the detonator from the compartment in his gauntlet and presses a red button that said disabled. Below the bridge the bombs then deactivate. 

“Your bombs are disabled, your revenge done.” Kim listed. ‘“Oh and look.” Kim then pointed and they saw a fleet of helicopters but they didn’t belong to the SFPD. 

“There’s Global Justice already here to Cart you guys away to prison.” Kim then pointed out. “Seems you guys have worked for a number of people on their most wanted list and you’ve committed a number of offences on their radar.” She then explained. 

“Yeah sounds like someone tipped them off.” Ron then added with a smirk. 

“Grr how did you guys get so good!” Greg Jack then asked Big Hero 6. 

“Easy ‘Greg’ we’ve been training.” Hiro smirked “with the best.” He said looking to Kim who could only smile. 

Soon Global Justice took the three Mad Jacks away to be incarcerated at their jail facility, whilst an officer of GJ explained everything to the police officer at the scene. 

“Okay guys seriously, were we awesome? Or were we totally AWSOME!” Fredzilla said in excitement. 

“I’ll admit, that was cool we’ve never taken down an enemy of ours that easily before.” Gogo admitted. 

“Yeah, did you see that sling shot move we did!” Honey Lemon bounced excitedly. 

“Yeah I hereby dub that move the Slingshot Punch!” Fred said. 

“Yeah not to mention I was totally alive out there!” Wasabi said. “What about me I was helping too I drew his fire!” Ron pointed out feeling left out. 

“We acted very efficiently in neutralising the target.” Baymax diagnosed. 

“We stopped the bombs, thanks to Rufus.” Hiro said thanking the Molerat. 

“But Kim I have to know how did you know that the Mad Jacks were wanted by those GJ guys?” Hiro then asked. 

“Oh that’s easy during the fight I had Wade do some research into them hacking their website..” “Cool theme some by the way.” Ron then interrupts Kim. 

“...yeah anyway Wade found the list of a number of clients they’ve worked for in the past including a number of war lords, crime bosses and of course a few super villains.” Kim listed 

“To cut a long story short forward the info to some fiends of ours in GJ and off to jail they go.” Kim finished. 

“Wow, you really can do anything.” Hiro said impressed. Kim could only smile humbly by this compliment. Just then.

“Oh my, that was AWESOME!” Shrieks a voice and they turned to see Karmi standing behind them. 

“An actually team up between Kim Possible and Big Hero 6!” Karmi said excitedly. 

“Oh I’ve got to get a picture of this.” She then said holding up her camera phone to take a photo. 

The nine heroes just stood bemused but decided to pose for a photo while Hiro just kept a natural expression. Karmi takes a photo showing her a photo of Big Hero 6 and Team Possible together. 

“Oh I’m so writing a fan fic about this Captain Cutie teams up with teen hero Kim Possible!” Karmi said practically bouncing away in excitement and could already picture her fan fiction taking place featuring chibi versions of the team and Kim. 

Hiro just grimaced at the thought of what she just said. 

“Captain Cutie?” Kim smirked with a raised eyebrow “Don’t ask” Hiro groaned. 

Meanwhile

Whilst events transpired at the bridge, far away in a old derelict warehouse on the dark side of town a lone figure stands alone in the darkness. 

It was really Shego except something was different on her wrists she now wore metal gauntlet like devices with glowing green lines on them. Ever since her little meeting with Obake he left them for her as a ‘gift’. Though a little skeptical she decided to test his present somewhere away from prying eyes and she knew Drakken would just ask questions. 

She looked at the gauntlets and they did seem to fit perfectly and surprisingly they didn’t clash with her outfit. However she was still unclear to their function. 

“Alright let’s see what glow face’s toy can do.” She said to herself. 

She infighter her powers as normal this then caused the gauntlets to activate which then caused her energy to glow brighter even her eyes started to glow a little. 

She threw an energy blast at a crate in the warehouse and it immediately blew it into a million pieces. She was completely shocked.

“Whoa! My blasts were never that powerful?” She said in amazement. She looked to her gauntlets and when she touched one of the lines it took her energy and formed it into a blade comprised of her energy. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

She then smirked and swung her arm blade like a samurai and then with one swipe let loose a huge energy wave that completely incinerated two of the rear pillars. 

She then bore a sadistic smile as her eyes glowed green and her hands burned with enhanced energy. 

“Oh ho ho ho! Me likie.” She said “whoever that guy is he’s right it’s time to see what potential I have!” Shego said and let loose a huge blast of energy from her hands. 

End of chapter 4

Whoa looks like Shego got an upgrade, looks like BH6 is gonna need that training Kim’s given them. Yes Obake has started to get involved in this story but still not the main villain (yet) The gauntlets were actually inspired by the KP 2019 live action film whilst they did make it look like the source of Shegos powers it didn't work for me so I’ve repurposed them as energy enhancers in this story.In terms of the Mad Jacks I always thought of them as the Team Impossible of the BH6 Universe except with more showmanship and cooler toys. So I was a bit gutted not seeing them in season 2 of the series lets hope they return for season 3 , but this did give me an idea revolving around their absence namely caught by higher authority. Chapter 5 coming soon. 

[thecoleopterawithana]

Continuing to explore the songs they were singing at any particular time; also known as trying to get a clue as to what their emotional landscape was or what they were trying to communicate, by looking at the songs that were resonating with them at a certain moment or they were “sending” each other.

One of such songs was Billy Swan’s 1974 No. 1 Hit ‘I Can Help’.

Music brought us together. He’d say, “Have you heard that record?” – ‘I Can Help’, Billy Swan – “Have you heard that record?” “Oh, yeah!” He’d play it for me. 

— Paul McCartney, talking to John Wilson for BBC 4′s Mastertapes (24 May 2016).

‘I Can Help’ was Billy Swan’s major hit single and was released towards the end of July 1974. 

Musically, its style is considered to be rockabilly. One of the earliest forms of rock and roll music, with its country and R&B roots, it harkens back to the early 1950s rock. This genre was popularized by our duo’s childhood heroes, such as Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, and Jerry Lee Lewis, and it enjoyed a revival during the late 1970s and early 1980s. 

One of such persons riding the wave of nostalgia was John Lennon, who had started recording his Rock ‘n’ Roll album in mid-October 1973, just at the start of his Lost Weekend. Comprised of covers of late 1950s and early 1960s songs, this album must have been a trip down memory lane. I can’t help but find the timing telling; that in the advent of his failed marriage with Yoko, what he chooses to do first is to return to the good old early days, back to his teenage years and all the adventures with Paul around Liverpool, trying to get a hold of the new sounds coming from America, thrilling at the passion for Rock and Roll, together.

The Hollywood sessions attracted a lot of attention and musicians, eager to participate in the John Lennon record. But in a drug and alcohol-fuelled daze, the recording process soon turned too chaotic for the creation of quality material. After a series of hurdles – such as producer Phil Spector secretly taking the master tapes home each night, suddenly disappearing with them for months, and then being involved in a car accident that left him in a coma – by the end of March 1974, the project had been practically shelved (until being picked up again for conclusion, on October of that year).

It was also around this time, from March 28th to April 1st at least, that John and Paul had their LA rendezvous, their first face to face encounter since John had moved to the US. Their meetings would continue even after John went back to New York, around July 1974.

It was also around this time that Billy Swan’s ‘I Can Help’ was both hitting the airwaves and John’s core.

Lyrically, this song touches on many familiar themes that were present in their own music.

.

If you got a problem, don’t care what it is If you need a hand, I can assure you this I can help, I got two strong arms I can help It would sure do me good, to do you good Let me help

.

It’s a fact that people get lonely, ain’t nothing new But a woman like you, baby should never have the blues Let me help, I got two for me It would sure do me good, to do you good Let me help

.

When I go to sleep at night you’re always a part of my dream Holding me tight and telling me everything I wanna hear

.

Don’t forget me baby, all you gotta do is call You know how I feel about ya, if I can do anything at all Let me help, if your child needs a daddy, I can help It would sure do me good to do you good Let me help

.

If offering help is one of Paul’s staples, it’s not as common a theme in John’s music. One relevant exception is John’s ‘Look At Me’:

.

Here I am What am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to do? Here I am What can I do for you? What can I do for you?

.

In this poignant tune – composed in Rishikesh, India, in the spring of 1968 – John pleads his love to look at him, and questions who is he supposed to be and what is he supposed to do to get that to happen. He goes even further, questioning his own identity and their conjoined identity, singing that nobody knows but them.

With ‘I Can Help’, John seemed to have again resonated with the offering of help as a reach out, an attempt to reconnect, such as the one used by Paul in his 1980 No. 1 Hit, ‘Coming Up’:

.

You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

.

With the second verse, we get another familiar theme in John’s music and life: “It’s a fact that people get lonely, ain’t nothing new.” Again going back to 1968, we know that in Rishikesh he even became suicidal in his solitude, as was clearly expressed in ‘Yer Blues’: 

.

Yes I’m lonely want to die Yes I’m lonely want to die If I ain’t dead already Ooh girl you know the reason why

.

References to loneliness return in 1977, in one of his home demos of the visceral ‘Real Life’:

.

Woke up this morning blues around my head No need to ask the reason why Went to the kitchen and I ran back to my bed Something funny in the sky

.

Why must we be alone? Why must we be alone? It’s real life

.

We can also see the middle-eight of ‘I Can Help’ – “When I go to sleep at night you’re always a part of my dream / Holding me tight and telling me everything I wanna hear” – somewhat echoed in another verse from ‘Real Life’: 

.

Was I just dreaming or was it only yesterday I used to hold you in my arms? And now a baby And another on the way [Indescernible] in a farm

.

Of course, requests for being held tight make a common enough appearance in and of themselves in a lot of Lennon and McCartney music. 

Another essential theme in their relationship – despite having different meanings for each of them – is the whole business with dreams. 

If for John the term “dream” is a synonym for his conscious fantasies – what he’d imagined his future reality to be or the retroactive pain of finding his past romantic idealisations a “lie” – for Paul, dreams are the place of contact with his subconscious, finally free from the restrains his controlling awake mind places on its own wonderings; it’s a place where unexpected inspiration and visits arrive.

In McCartney’s July 1972 ‘Best Friend’, we find again similar feelings of dreaming of a distant loved one:

.

Well, I wake up in the morning, I’m still dreaming 'bout you Tell you, pretty baby, I’m blue

.

(Is this perhaps the reason why, when John says he “woke up this morning blues around my head” there’s “no need to ask the reason why”? Perhaps, in their established language of references, it should be understood to mean “it’s because I’m still dreaming ‘bout you”.)

In the third verse, we have “Don’t forget me baby, all you gotta do is call”. Both parts called my attention. On the one hand, we have the request not to be forgotten, for his old friend to think about him every now and then. On the other hand, we return to the subject of phone calls. 

Incidentally, as we’ve established, this song was recommended and transmitted as a message through one of their phone calls. Just a vital part of how they maintained contact with each other, it’s no wonder the theme would show up in their music as well.

.

Any time at all, any time at all Any time at all, all you’ve gotta do is call and I’ll be there

— ‘Any Time At All’ (1964)

.

And the same goes for me Whenever you want me at all I’ll be here yes I will Whenever you call You just gotta call on me, yeh You just gotta call on me

— ‘All I’ve Gotta Do’ (1963)

.

You know my name Look up the number

— ‘You Know My Name (Look Up The Number)’ (1969)

.

I’ve heard your name every night since then But I ain’t never, no no never heard you calling me Come on and call me back again Yeah call me back again

— ‘Call Me Back Again’ (1975)

.

If it don’t feel right, don’t do it If it don’t look right, look right through it If it don’t feel right, don’t do it Just call him on the phone

— ‘Real Life’ demo (1979)

.

And finally, we have “You know how I feel about ya”, and yes, I think it’s fair to say that they were – but John especially – fairly explicit about what they felt about each other in their songs.

.

Today I love you more than yesterday right now I love you more right now

— ‘I Know (I Know)’ (1973)

.

But when I see you darling It’s like we both are falling in love again It’ll be just like starting over - starting over

— ‘(Just Like) Starting Over’ (1980)

.

With all this, it’s really no wonder that ‘I Can Help’ made an impression on John in the first place, or that he would use it to try an communicate with Paul. 

The date of this particular call remains somewhat of a mystery to me: whether it was at the time of the song’s popularity, in 1974, or if John had the record at hand in his Dakota years and played it to Paul in one of their late 1970s transatlantic chats. From the context in which it came up in Paul’s interview, I’d think the latter, but there’s really no way to be sure.

Nevertheless, it is a crucial “letter” in their across the seas and across the ages exchanges through music. Especially in a time when it was perhaps rather nerve-wracking to expose their own compositions, playing songs from other people through the phone line gave them a perhaps more relaxed avenue in which to say what they needed to say to the other.

And I find that image beautiful.

-

[Disclaimer: The importance of this particular song has been previously pointed out by @aceonthebass, all the way back in October 2016. Nevertheless, I felt the need to do my own analysis of it, and hopefully, increase its appreciation as valuable information to the understanding of the intricate rituals of John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Also, I know the dots look odd in the paragraphs, but I'm trying to improve readability on mobile, which has seriously decreased, in my opinion, with Tumblr’s new formating. Please let me know if it makes it worse.]