#I swear time sometimes doesn’t exist in the walking dead but I have my sources

[cultofdixon]

I’m right here, sunshine

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Being his girl is everything. He’d do anything for you. But when you stopped going on runs every now and then, he did as well trailing you like a puppy. Doing his best to take care of you even when you didn’t tell him what was wrong at first. Little did he know that his life was gonna change • SFW/ANGST/NSFW • TW: Scars / Injuries / Sleep Deprived / Anxiety / Talks of Pregnancy / Pregnancy & Birth / Terminus

“Yo! What’re you think you’re doin’” Daryl stops the younger Grimes from getting into the car as Carl pushes his hand off.

“Y/N convinced my dad to let me go on a run. To get an idea of what I’ll be able to do when I’m a little older.” Carl starts readjusting his hat. “Even if I am just another look out for now”

“And where’s Y/N?” Glenn asks before Daryl could even, as the two watch Carl shrug for an answer. Rick told him he could go, not Y/N. All she did was the convincing and Daryl only wanted to know why from somebody who doesn’t know the answer. “Hey, want me to ask Maggie to check on her? Before we head out?”

“Mhm” Daryl nods, going to get his bike set up for the run as Glenn quickly ran to their guard tower to ask Maggie.

The closer Glenn got, he suddenly stopped seeing Maggie talking to Y/N. He wasn’t close enough to hear anything and he wasn’t the type to pry unless he really needed to. But when Y/N locked eyes with Glenn giving him a small smile and a wave before letting him talk to his girl. Maggie couldn’t help but keep her worried expression on her face watching Y/N go before turning to Glenn.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing?”

“You’re supposed to be on a run, are you sick? Hurt? Why—-“

“Ok ok. Nothing is wrong with me. But Y/N was switched out with Carl for the run and I asked Daryl if he wanted me to ask you to keep an eye on her…cuz we know Daryl isn’t the type to ask himself yknow”

“‘Course” Maggie laughs a tad as her smile fades. “Keep an eye on him for her then, okay Glenn?”

“Of course” Glenn smiles giving her a kiss then finally left on his way to go on the run.

Y/N not coming meant he can’t keep an eye on her. Can’t check in on her in his silent usual way. Can’t show her what he finds that reminds him of her. So, he’s angrier than usual on that run and the others chose to not get in his way.

Well. Except Carl.

“What exactly do you look for? Glenn has the list of the necessary goods”

“Mmm”

“Looking for…more arrows? Makes sense. Could also make’em. Carol and Y/N showed me how to do a specific knot to prevent too much movement”

“Mmm” Daryl turns toward Carl glaring at him to stop but just like his dad. He never does.

Glenn was loading up the car of the stuff he managed to find watching Carl trail behind Daryl like a puppy. This kid was never gonna be a look out. He may be older but he still had that tendency kids have to ask a million things and always have the energy to do so.

“Imagine when him and Y/N finally have a kid, would be trailing him just like Carl” Sasha laughs adding her few things as it clicked to Glenn.

“Uh. Can you go tell them to hurry up while I sweep the pharmacy one last time?”

“Sure man” and as she started walking over, Glenn sprinted to the pharmacy.

“Woulda stop asking me so many damn questions! I’m not a Whatcha call it—Library!” Daryl exclaims getting a laugh from Sasha as she approaches. “What!”

“Nothing nothing. Just funny” Sasha gestures Carl to get for a moment. Leaving the two to whatever Daryl was doing. “Trying to find something for your lady?”

“Why”

“I’m just curious” She shrugs walking beside him for a moment as Daryl started mumbling to himself that didn’t go unnoticed but he also wasn’t going to start that conversation. “Okay, what’s wrong? I know she was supposed to come instead of the Grimes kid”

“Do y’all normally not go to your partner for the problem? Or what” Daryl frowns thinking something is wrong and Y/N didn’t go to him for it.

“Depends. If you did something, definitely need another opinion before talking it out with you. But anything else. I don’t know. Do you normally react badly or normally? Cuz that can determine if she goes to you—-“ Sasha watches the worry and anxiety get to him just by looking into his eyes. “Daryl, man, I don’t know okay? Y/N talks to you more than anybody else. She probably just didn’t want to go on this run”

“Coulda told me…” Daryl turns away from Sasha after spotting something to quickly get a hold of it.

Once they returned from their run, Daryl felt a bit better spotting Y/N happily waiting for him where he kept his bike. He quickly parked and tried his best not to be too excited around the others when his girl drew closer. Even if she did wrap her arms around his torso and shower him in kisses. Trying to keep the stern look on his face was soon defeated after a few smooches that he just had to return a few to a now laughing Y/N.

Maggie smiles warmly toward them while approaching her man. She gave Glenn a kiss before tugging him aside away from anybody who could be listening.

“I need yea to go back out there for somethin’. Could be later with nobody or on the next run but nobody can know”

“Uh. I think I’m a few steps ahead of you there” Glenn takes his backpack off to show Maggie what he got back there that wasn’t on the list.

“I did not tell you nothing!”

“I know! I’m just assuming here!”

“Shit. Just. Give it to me in our cell, but nobody can gain the suspicion toward them or us. Definitely not us”

“Not yet at least” Glenn teases as Maggie smacks his chest rolling her eyes playfully.

Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face watching the two for a moment before being pulled back into her own bubble with the love of her life. Daryl started to grumble as he kisses the top of her head a few times.

“Missed yea”

“It was only one run”

“Mhm” He brought one of his arms around her shoulders keeping her close to him. Resting his chin on top of her head. “You were replaced with a chatterbox”

“Carl ain’t that bad…you just have to answer the kid. You know his dad won’t” She rest her head comfortable against his chest not wanting to separate for a second as Daryl didn’t move a muscle knowing what she was doing.

Y/N always loved listening to his heartbeat, even when they weren’t something. She joined the group alone and only felt comfortable with Daryl, something about him made her feel safe. That one time when he found her mentally suffering back in their tent days, he held her and told her to listen to his heart beat.

Take a second and just…listen

And she instantly felt better after doing so.

“Ya feeling alright?” He whispers catching her out of her thoughts, only hearing a ‘mhm’ from her as she kept a hold of him. “You can tell me anythin’ yknow”

“I do, and I’m gonna…when I find the words”

He understands that. Not being fine and not being able to find the right words in expressing that. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to worry even more. Remember…this is his girl talkin’. He already had a level of worry toward her and now this is just adding on.

“You’re starting to worry him”

“Oh am I now? I couldn’t help but notice” Y/N laughs a little pointing out Daryl staring from across the quad of the prison.

Carol couldn’t help but wave and watch him freak internally, quickly turning his gaze away making her laugh herself. “He’s smitten for you and you’re not telling him what’s wrong”

“If I’m being honest…physically, I know…but mentally, I don’t know what to do or say about yeah…”

“Did you…get one?”

“Apparently. Glenn got me one before Maggie could even ask him”

“You are glowing” Carol teases knowing a part of Y/N would want this but with how the world is now how could she? “You shouldn’t have to stress yourself out about it, hun. I’ll keep your man busy for a few minutes and you can go take the test. But I’d go now before he’s willing to knock even me over to get to you”

With a quick eye roll and a squeeze of Carol’s hand, Y/N left the outdoor kitchen they had set up to go do what she needed to do. And just like Carol guessed it, Daryl started to walk over. Given her word, she quickly blocked Daryl’s line of sight until Y/N was completely gone. He whispered out a shit while Carol laughs a bit.

“What? I need your help with somethin’”

“It can’t wait?”

“Nope!” Carol locks arms with the archer and started to walk a bit away from the prison.

Inevitably ending up in the gardens for a good five minutes when Carol turns to the prison seeing Y/N step out.

“Welp. I didn’t need yea”

“What the fuck!”

“Shhhh children live here”

“WE ARE OUTSIDE AND I DIDNT SCREAM IT” now that was heard by everybody who was outside and in ear shot. Y/N couldn’t help the laugh escaping her but more than just her laughter catch other’s attention as she had tears rolling off her cheeks.

Before Rick could even check on her himself, Maggie shot right past him and took care of it. She wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders heading back inside the prison and letting her have her moment.

How could one have a life from the past, during the hell of the apocalypse?

Y/N didn’t go on the next few runs. Drove Daryl insane but he wasn’t not given some excuse. He believed the first few times with chores being given to her around the prison, or the time she told him she was going to check the traps around the prison with Rick, and obvious times where she didn’t look well enough to go.

Daryl came back from the latest run with a few things in hand specifically for his girl. He parked his bike had expecting Y/N to be waiting for him but when he heard her whistle at him from one of the towers, he knew where to go.

“Rick got you in the watch towers?”

“I asked, and Maggie told him about me collapsing earlier at the fences. Told me to do something that doesn’t require me in the heat or over-working myself”

“You collapsed? Have you seen—“

“Hershel. Yes, just dehydrated…” Y/N closes the door once Daryl got through setting his crossbow down. He didn’t say anything in response to that, but acted on it by giving her his canteen even when she had her own. “I’m fine though…I prom—-“ She stops seeing Daryl take out something from his pack that she didn’t even realize that now would be the moment to talk about it. “…ise….Daryl. Where did you—-“

“Last run we found an untouched pharmacy. Barely nothing but found one of these and just. Yknow…Panicked at the thought of it but had to…get one” Daryl was awkward. Who isn’t awkward when holding a pregnancy test in hand. He didn’t think about the possibility until they did that run and it connected with how Y/N has been feeling.

She couldn’t help it. The tears threatening to spill just from hearing he panicked at the thought of her being pregnant. Well, she is. So now how is she supposed to be okay about it.

“I-I don’t need one…” Y/N frowns feeling a few tears escape making her quickly wipe them away before Daryl could gently take a hold of her face caressing her cheeks. “I found out a few weeks ago…and I’m a-afraid you’re going to leave me”

Daryl wanted to scream. Not because she’s pregnant, but because she thinks he’d leave her for it. He wished he met her before he’ll broke loose. Wished this ever happened. Wish they had this moment without the fear coursing through them of reality as it is now.

When he didn’t say anything, Y/N only continued to cry and tried pulling away but he immediately brought his hands to her waist gripping tight onto her shirt keeping his gaze down as she looks at him. She froze the second she heard sniffles as she carefully brought her hands to his face making him look at her through tears.

“I love you, I won’t leave yea. Ever.” He chokes up on his tears pulling her flush against his chest hiding his face in the crook of her neck. “‘M gonna me a dad…I w-won’t be good at it but—“

“You’ll be perfect…I know you will”

When the flu went through the prison, that’s when everybody found out. Because Daryl would yell at everybody who had symptoms and came anywhere near Y/N. Congratulations of course, but shit was happening and things took priority most moments. Daryl was already over protective of his partner but now it’s at an astronomical level, that when he had to go on a run to get the medicine…he couldn’t stop thinking about the negative possibilities of what could happen to her when he’s gone.

Finding her in her cell, unscathed by the flu…only brought him relief. Daryl quietly approaches her sleeping form lifting the blanket up for him to slide in beside her. Y/N stirred slightly, smiling a bit to him joining her on her cot.

“Everybody okay?”

“Mhm. Got shit in time.” Daryl gently grazes his fingers against her bump feeling her move closer to him the best she could given how big she was. “Clingy huh?”

“Mhm…missed my man”

He couldn’t help the smile that slowly crept onto his face when she said that.

“Missed my sunshine”

“‘M right here” She smiles bringing her lips to his for a short but sweet kiss. “We’re not going anywhere any time soon..”

“Y’all better…” Daryl chuckles a bit kissing her forehead and keeping her close to his person. Not ever wanting to let go…

Then he did…

“We’ll reconnect with everybody again. Promise!”

“You don’t know that” Daryl frowns staring at the fire he made for Beth and him as he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

________

“DARYL—-“ Y/N cries out to him trying to break from Tyrese’s grasp as he was protecting her from the oncoming gunfire.

Daryl physically froze in his place, feeling Beth tug on him to get out of there while his gaze glued on his girl. He felt his heart break watching her fade from view. He wanted to run through the gunfire and go with her but Beth’s hold on him kept him from killing himself just to give Y/N only a moment left with him.

“Daryl she wouldn’t do good with you dead”

That’s what broke him out of his frozen state to run out of there with Beth ahead of him.

________

“This place…doesn’t sound safe, Carol. You shouldn’t go in there alone”

“And you’re volunteering? You carrying Dixon Jr? Daryl wouldn’t forgive me or anybody if I left anything happen to you in that place. Besides. You are caring for Judith and Tyrese is taking care of this asshole” Carol frowns watching Y/N try her best to cover up her tears while holding a fussing Judith. “I’ll get them out safe. Do my best…”

“Please…please don’t get hurt, Carol”

“I’ll do my best”

The second Daryl locked eyes with Carol, his anxiety got the best of him but in that moment he felt relieved to have his friend back. Carol grasped onto him the second he brought her into his embrace.

“She’s going to cry even more when she sees you, compared to when I found her” Carol whispers to Daryl feeling him tighten around her as his mind raced with her words. Of course Carol found Y/N, but part of him needed to see it for himself of course…

When the group made its way to the small house, Tyrese stepped out with Judith in hand as Rick and Carl picked up the pace running over to the two. But the small group blocked both his and Y/N’s sight on the other…

Daryl stopped moving like he did back at the prison. Trying to wrap his head around the fact that she’s right there. Y/N couldn’t help the tears that formed and spilled instantly at the sight of Daryl standing there, she didn’t even get far for him to come bolting over taking her into his protective embrace.

“I’m right here, sunshine”

“Please always find me…please”

“Fuckin’ promise”

•

“When’s the last time you’ve slept?” Maggie couldn’t help but worry for Y/N, given she’s about to be six months and the group had suffered another loss being Beth, Y/N felt the answer was obvious but also that Maggie was the wrong person asking.

“I should—-“

“No, you’re pregnant. Even in this hell you should get rest…and not stress about somebody like me”

“Shut up” Y/N took her hands into hers squeezing them. “If I wasn’t pregnant you’d still say that to me when I have every right to worry and stress about my family. You’re hurting and are allowed to feel everything you’re feeling around me. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere” she rests her forehead against Maggie’s letting her cry in the comfort of her friend.

When the group endured a harsh storm in a barn after a few weeks of traveling, they were hostile and protective of each other when Aaron made himself known to the group.

“It’s a safe place” Aaron says for the millionth time as he turns to lock eyes with Y/N and of course that sparked— “It’ll be safe for your baby, and hers when she gives birth. We’ll keep them sa—-“ he stops when Daryl threatens a knife on him without any protests form the others.

“You think I can’t keep my girl and my unborn baby safe?”

“I-I never said that. Never implied that either. I’m just stating facts that our community is safe within the walls and it’ll be a safe place to give birth in. I-I can’t really stop you from doing what you want to do. But I’ve been watching your group for sometime and know that our community would welcome all of you”

The guy continued to ramble and more for the sake that he wouldn’t get killed. Daryl only removed the knife when Y/N winced a bit to her discomfort signaling him to return to her as Maggie followed his action. It didn’t go unnoticed by Rick and if what Aaron was saying was true, she could be comfortable in this community giving birth compared to a bible story comparison.

When the group arrived to Alexandria and had to surrender their weapons along with taking interviews. Deanna watched Daryl pace around the room not answering a single question as she rises from the couch giving him a stay put look before entering the front foyer of the house gesturing for Y/N to join them. He quickly approached his girl helping her sit where Deanna wanted him to sit.

“Think cuz she’s here I’ll talk?”

“You just did” Deanna laughs a bit turning on the camera as Y/N didn’t like this either, but something kept her from talking.

Daryl did answer a few questions while holding Y/N from behind the chair feeling her latch onto his forearm. He couldn’t tell if it was her anxiety, or if there was more to it.

“Your name is Y/N right? You’ve been with this group since the beginning?”

“Mhm” Y/N took a deep breath looking away from Deanna feeling Daryl’s arms tighten around her. “C-Can I leave please?”

“Alexandria?”

“This room” Y/N shook rising to her feet as Deanna noticed her behavior and it wasn’t entirely toward her. Deanna held her hand out only for Y/N to instantly latch onto it as the other had a death grip on Daryl.

“Hun, is this your first child? and you don’t trust us so you’re trying to keep it together but you are indeed in active labor?” Wow. Two kids under the belt and somehow she’s an expert. But that is indeed what was happening and Y/N didn’t trust anyone except her group, so she was hoping to keep it together until they had a plan.

But the mini Dixon had other plans.

The group scrambled a bit at the situation which only stressed out Y/N and caused Daryl to snap at people. When Deanna got Y/N to the infirmary she called for the resident surgeon at the community, he must’ve helped delivered a kid at least once in the “before”. But the vibes this guy gave off and what he needed to do, made Daryl uneasy.

“You’re gonna what?!” Daryl snaps standing in between Pete and his girl who was growing more uncomfortable in the bed.

“I need to check how far along she is and since we don’t have the machines to do it, I have to insert my fingers—-“

“Oh FUCK no” Daryl grabbed Pete’s collar pushing him back as he held his hands up defensively.

Y/N winces as she sat up glaring at the two in the situation they’re in. “Get Maggie, Daryl please get Maggie”

“I don’t think she’s trained in—-“

“Shut your motherfucking mouth and get MAGGIE” Y/N yells at the two causing them both to panic a bit as Daryl practically tossed Pete out of the infirmary before stepping out himself.

“She can’t do it by herself”

“Y/N isn’t gonna let this fuckin’ stranger anywhere near her and frankly I don’t either—-“

“I have the medical training and from what I’m hearing, she’s the daughter of a vet. May know some things but not enough for this”

“Then walk me through it” Maggie interrupts. “We all know Daryl will cut your fingers off touchin’ his girl. So you’ll walk me through it. Ain’t my first…birth but this isn’t like the first time.”

Pete sighs opening the door for Maggie deciding this is fine. He kept a distance but not too far in case he had to step in. Even if these people were complete strangers to him and he wasn’t entirely that great of a guy, there is an oath in the medical community and he’ll always follow that.

It wasn’t until night when both Maggie and Pete stepped out of the makeshift operating room in the house they were in. Maggie had the biggest smile on her face as Pete walks past carrying the medical waste. Rick grabbed his arm to stop him giving him a concerned look given Pete’s was neutral.

“Is she—-“

“She’s alright.” Pete now noticed all of their attentions on him. “They both are. The dad ain’t, but that’s normal” he pulls away to take care of what he was doing as Maggie couldn’t help herself.

“It’s a girl! She’s perfect and has Daryl’s eyes!” Maggie squeals happily hugging Glenn out of her excitement.

Rick couldn’t help but bring his son into his embrace to the good news as Carl couldn’t help the tears that formed. He was relieved that’s all. None of them were losing anybody that day.

The soft cries filled the room as the little baby in the first clean blanket they’ve seen in ages, nuzzled close to her mother’s embrace and started to calm the second her father gently rests his hand on her little head.

“She’s tiny…” Daryl whispers gently caressing her watching her every movement.

“She’s perfect…” Y/N tried her best to cover up the tears that fell from her face while looking down at the little creation they both were trying their best to physically protect in the small infirmary bed. “Oh what a world she’s living in…” she sobs even harder feeling Daryl shift beside her so that he could take care of her tears gently brushing them away.

“Sunshine…’M right here” Daryl reassures pressing his forehead against Y/N’s as the two kept their attention on the little one. “Not leaving either of you ever…y’all will be safe”

“I know…I just…c-can you just humor me for a second?” She asks hearing him hum as an agreement. “What’s outside the walls…isn’t out there…everything is fine. Normal…I…I knew from the second I locked eyes on you that I fell in love and w-we..met at…”

“At a bar, but I was too chicken shit to talk to yea when you first entered the room” He knew what she wanted in that moment. “To be fair I was with Merle and he’s a pain to deal with. Prob tried hitting on yea but it didn’t go unnoticed even by him the way you looked at me” He brought himself more into the bed so that Y/N could rest her head against his chest listening to his heart beat. “You came out of the bar the second we left, not finding me at first glance but there I was by my bike lookin’ right at yea. Not saying much like usual.”

“You asked me to take a ride with you, and I said yes. Wouldn’t be the first time I would say yes to anything you asked…You loved me when you first met me, when you watched me knock Merle on his ass for one of his comments toward me before you even could, when I fell off your bike trying to drive it myself and you gave me a piggy back ride all the way to the ER to get stitches…you loved me even when my parents didn’t like you at first”

“But they knew when I proposed to yea that they were gonna have to like me. Took them a bit but when they saw how much I loved you and how much you loved me…they knew I would protect yea until the end of time” Daryl readjusted as he brought his arm under the bundle in Y/N’s feeling her move her arms so that he’d be the main support to their baby watching her adjust comfortably, not stirring awake. “Parents wanted a big wedding, we wanted small”

“Kept it small. Had my parents. And Merle” Y/N laughs a bit smiling through the tears as Daryl presses his lips against her temple. “City hall, no rings. Just a promise for forever…you worked on bikes and I worked at a bakery. We made life work just the two of us…then just had so much love to share”

“Didn’t hesitate for a second to have a baby with yea…and hell your cravings were weird and hard to come by but anything to see you smile while you carry this human for nine months was all worth it…seeing her finally, makes up for a lot of the hell the world brings us.” Daryl felt his own tears roll off his face as he did his best not to have them fall on his baby girl. His baby girl. He never thought, even in the before, that he’d be here. Holding the love of his life and his baby girl…he made promises to his family that day. He wasn’t ever going to leave them in any sense without a reason, he was always going to be there even if it meant physically fighting for it.

Daryl snapped out of his thoughts feeling Y/N’s soft touch wipe away the tears that fell. He kisses the inside of her palm before bringing his little one up to his face to kiss her forehead hearing her mumble to said action.

“I’m right here…”

[starconsumer444]

“When Things Fall In Place” (18+)

Creepy Roommate!Kenma

(A/N: This is...about 3.1k of pure degeneracy, which I actually had no intention on writing, finishing, or publishing and just thought out as I went... There was no planning, no actual ideas prior to this {actually its based off this guy I met recently because im always stuck with the creeps}...I just started it late at night [basically the early hours of the morning] and finished it this afternoon. I haveeee to stop writing for haikyuu... But I’m probably gonna fall off, comeback and write one or two request with a bunch of other random bs, and then disappear again after this, but thats just how it is. I get bored of writing every three days then come back to write my heart out. I really have to write my requests soon or they’ll hate me...) 

(Cw/Tw: Fem!Reader, Stalking, Somno, Rape/Noncon,  Virgin!Kenma, Theft, Crying, Poor Writing, Kenma is a sweaty, friendless, looser in this one guys, I’m bad at tagging these but you get the idea... this is bad and nasty. 3.1k!!!! THIS IS LONG AS HELL)

You don’t know much about him, Kenma— your roommate. You’ve been living together for almost a year at this point and that can’t be normal. He stays in his room playing video games, doesn’t seem to have friends, leaves for work in the morning, and keeps to himself for the most part. Honestly, if you didn’t greet each other in passing you would’ve forgotten the sound of his voice by now. It’s low, unaffected, and monotone for the most part. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be bothered?

But see, Kenma knows everything about you. You went to middle and high school together, but he was just as standoffish in those days too. He doesn’t expect you to remember him, you clearly don’t, but it still weighs on his heart. Was he that forgettable? It’s okay, because one day he’ll tell you. One day he’ll tell you everything.

He’s been obsessed with you since middle school, you were the pretty girl that sat in the front of the class and smelled so good. You would talk to give answers in class and he would be all ears, because to him your voice was his only source of happiness. To hear you speak and smell your perfume as you walked past him was a reason to live. Sure, it was weird, but so were a lot of things about him. He had no friends, could you blame him? Would you?  So maybe, then, in middle school it was an innocent harmless crush, not an obsession, but in high school he was definitely obsessed. 

He overheard you say it to your friends— where you were going to high school, and he told his parents thats where he wanted to enroll. The entire time he never spoke to you, much like middle school, he was off in a corner playing a game alone, inconspicuously keeping an eye on you. He used to trail you and your friends around the school and he always wondered how you were so perfect? How you were so good at making friends? How you stood out like that? Maybe that’s why you were so unapproachable... 

He remembers you were class president for three consecutive years up until graduation. You were so damn intimidating, but everyone loved you, especially Kenma and you were blind to it. You never ONCE noticed him or gave a damn about him and you were class president. He wanted to talk to you so bad, but he just couldn't. He would steal things from you with the intent to say he found them and maybe start a conversation, but he ended up hoarding them in his room at home. The biggest thing he’d stolen was a sweater because you hadn’t seemed to notice the erasers or pencils. 

He vividly remembers the sheer panic and urgency he stuffed that damned pink sweater into his backpack with, so scared he’d get caught and called a creep. He really did plan on returning it but he just— it smelled so good back then...he remembers. He took it home and hid it under his bed, only opting to take it out and hold it to his face and just smell it on special occasions when he felt up to it and guilt wasn't taking over his mind, body, and soul. He knew it was wrong but he felt the most alive in moments where he didn’t care. He’d tried to resist the urge, but at some point he started to pleasure himself with it too. It started happening so often that he’d get hard at the smell of you even when you walked by him in class. He still has that sweater.

At some point during that time, he���d picked up the strange hobby of following you home from school. You walked alone all the time so he’d lie to himself and say it was for your safety as he stalked around corners and made sure you never saw him. He’d always watch you enter your home from down the block, far enough so he wouldn't catch your attention. Those times he didn’t want you to notice him, he felt sick doing it, but it was something akin to an addiction and he just couldn't stop himself. This was a short lived addiction though...about a month or so. 

His mom started to pick up on his staying out later than usual and by then he’d actually started to go up in front of your house and just stare at it. He prayed to god that you didn’t see him being a creep like this, but sometimes he wished you did because at the very least you would recognize his existence. Still, you never saw him. He went back to being locked up in his room, playing video games until the early hours of the morning, rubbing himself raw against your sweater, and being consumed by you in private. All he wanted was for you to acknowledge him. Tell him that he exists to you, because he’s sure his existence is for you.

Those days were hell on earth, he struggled to shower and his only motivation for getting up and doing anything was to see you, who didn't know he existed. It was a depraved cycle. 

Now he’s here with you, and the first time he talked to you was to respond to a “roommate wanted” ad. Isn’t it wonderful how things come full circle? 

Still, he struggles to actually hold face to face conversations with you. How could he? He fantasizes about you so much...it feels wrong.

These days he finds himself rutting into your sheets when you're out praying that you don’t catch him, stealing your panties just to hold them to his nose and eventually soak them in his cum, and even worse having disgustingly sadistic fantasies about you belonging to him. He pushes those fantasies to the back of his mind, though. He doesn't want to be fucked up, but then again, it can't be that bad to want to own your source of happiness.

His infatuation reaches a peak one night when he finds himself groggily trudging his way to your room in the dead of night with his fleshlight in hand. He tried everything, he didn't want to jack off so he played his video games like usual, but even that didn’t take his mind off of you. Typically, he’d jack off with his fleshlight alone in his room to depraved and deluded fantasies of you, but tonight he needs to be near you; to see you, to smell you, and to know you’re there.

Upon entering your room he flips the light on, and it’s actually really dim— not that he hoped to wake you up or anything. He tip-toes over to the side of your bed and stands over your sleeping figure. You look so beautiful when you’re asleep, a shame he’s never thought about seeing you like this before or rather...a shame he’s violating you like this. He wants himself to stop because he knows it’s wrong, but he’s wanted something like this for so long and right now it’s in the palm of his hand. He’s sick and he knows it.

Still, he pulls his sweats and underwear down just enough to where they’re right under his balls. The cold air of your ceiling fan hits his painfully hard shaft and it feels so good it makes him sick. He slowly sheaths himself inside the faithfully used toy imagining it was you. That’s even easier to do now that you’re right here in front of him.

His heart is racing, and he feels sick to his stomach...

“Gotta make this quick,” That’s what he says under his breath, but he want’s you to wake up and see him, he want’s you to call him a pervert and make him leave you alone forever. He wants to see you horrified by the sight of him pleasuring himself to your sleeping body. Is that so wrong?

Yeah, he knows it is. He can’t bring himself to care, though. He pumps himself in and out with hurried movements. He feels so gross and so good like this. Even with the fan on above him he’s sweating bullets like a madman, but he just can’t stop himself, he swears this isn’t his fault. His rational mind would never permit this, but when has he ever gone with that side of himself?

He starts to lose himself in pleasure, moaning out your name in his typical low voice rather than a whisper. He doesn't catch himself, and his moans start to get louder and louder. You start to stir and he can’t bring himself to shut up. You can’t be that light a sleeper, right? 

Wrong.

Your eye’s flutter open and then meet his and he cums unreasonably hard and his moan is gross and loud. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and he doubles over from the pleasure. His hand grabbing on to your mattress is the only thing keeping him from hitting the floor.

His heart pounds in his chest and his breathing is erratic, but that’s not why the look in your eye’s is nothing but terror. He's sweating so much, he wants to apologize, but he doesn't.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says sliding the toy off of himself. He thinks you look even more beautiful when you’re awake and scared out of your mind. 

You lie there, staring up at him, still trying to process how your aloof roommate could—

He climbs on your bed, fleshlight in hand, and straddles your waist and all you can bring yourself to do is shake your head.

“Kenma-” He presses his index finger to your lips and you freeze again.

Suddenly, he’s bringing the fleshlights opening to your mouth and you still can’t bring yourself to fight him.

“Please go away,” You ask like this is just some nightmare. You know it’s not, you can feel his weight on top of you and it feels too real. He’s so warm and so heavy.

“Lick.” He commands. He swears to himself that he’ll go away forever after this, the final piece to his happiness puzzle.

Tears start to fall down your face but he’s still insistent on having you eat his cum out of his gross plaything. When you don’t move, he leans over and presses it to your face.

“Lick.” 

This time, out of fear, you do. His cum tastes rancid, like battery acid. Disgusting would be more than an understatement. That doesn’t stop you from cleaning the toy with your tongue like your like depends on it, because right now...it might.

His eyes are tired when he smiles, almost dead, he looks sick. His hairs greasy, skin is pale, and he’s fisting his half hard dick while he watches you take his seed into your pretty mouth. You’ve never been this close to him before.

He strokes himself back to hardness like a delinquent. He knows he wants to leave you alone, but now he just can’t. When he tosses the fleshlight aside you’re shaking and crying begging him to go away.

“Kenma, please-” As much as he likes when you say his name, he can’t help but stifle your desperate begging with a kiss. 

It’s gross, wet, and all over the place, but Kenma doesn’t notice that. He’s never kissed anyone before and he’s beyond ecstatic that it’s you. You don’t bother with kissing him back, you just lie there, eyes open and crying. 

He savors this kiss, his first kiss. His lips are softer than expected, but he’s not— violence plagues his movements. His heart races even faster now, and when you try to turn your lips away from his he just grabs your jaw and holds you still. He gets drool all over both of your faces, and you can barely breathe. You can still feel him jacking himself off between your bodies and you feel nauseous. This “kiss” is so unpracticed and unrefined, he’s basically licking the inside of your mouth and breathing in your face.

Why is he doing this?

You feel him finally moving from your lips and pulling your shirt up to let cold air hit your tits. For a second, he pauses to catch his breath, chest heaving and spit covered mouth hanging open. He stares down at your chest in awe. You turn away in embarrassment, he doesn’t mind it; you must be terrified.

With one hand holding your shirt up, he brings the other from his dick to squeeze at your chest. You wince and struggle against him because he’s so fucking rough and it hurts. Then he gives one of your breasts a hard slap, and you start to writhe up under him. 

It brings a smile to his face, but he doesn’t do it anymore. He wants to try something different.

He carefully slides down off of you and between your legs. He grossly presses his face against your clothed cunt and smells you even licking you through your pajama bottoms.

He sees the shock on your face when you sit up to look at him and he simply brushes it off, too far gone to be considerate at this point.

When his hands pull down your pajama bottoms-

“No no no no nononono Kenma please stop it.” You whine and kick at him uselessly. You sit up to try to push his hands away but its all useless, he’s so unreasonably strong for someone his size. When he finally slides your pajama bottoms and underwear off of you and on to the floor he buries his face between your folds.

It’s like when he was kissing you, gross, wet, and unpracticed. He’s just haphazardly lapping at your labia and vulva. You push at his shoulders trying to get him off of you while crying your eyes out. It doesn’t seem to effect him though, he just locks his arms around your thighs, sliding you down onto your back. 

At some point his tongue washes clean over your clit and he feels your body jolt from the pleasure. He finds it again and your body stiffens. He looks up at your crying face and squeezes the meat of your thighs between his fingers as he abuses your clit to no end.

You’re sobbing at this point because to you this all feels without reason. For the first time in your life you are scared of Kenma. From what you remember of him, he was always voiceless and sweet, even during school when he decided to show up. He was a kid who always greeted the teacher, even if it was wordless, he got his work done on time when he could, and he minded his business. You never talked to him, but you did hold his understated presence in the back of your mind— for the longest you pegged him as a boy who could be pleasant if you got to know him. So, why was he doing this? Why is he hurting you?

You made him your roommate because you thought that he of all people wouldn’t do this. You wanted to be friends. What did you do?

Now he’s violating you after a year of little to no interaction and him being barely there. He knows it’s wrong and you're not fighting him anymore, you’re just laying there, chest heaving and silent.

He lifts his head to plant a wet kiss on your inner thigh and drags his tongue against the soft skin momentarily. He looks at your scared face and gives a crooked smile. He’s sorry, he really is but this feels like a dream to him. You're too good not to take. 

He finds himself positioning his dick right between your folds and rutting against you. You really must’ve given up, your fight is long gone as he holds you down by your pelvic bones—uncut nails breach your soft skin.

Excitement fills his body as your wetness begins to coat his length as he rocks himself back and forth. He’s careful and his breathing is labored.

“I-” He tries and fails. “You never noticed me, but I’ve loved you forever.” He’s shy. Kenma looks down at your stomach, too embarrassed to meet your crying eyes. 

“We went to school together for years...” He trails off, still staring down. He doesn’t have the guts to look at the mess he’s made of you. “I wanted to talk to you, but you wouldn’t like- no. I was scared.” He shakes his head softly and finally meets your eyes. You're still crying. He feels his throat tighten and he doesn't want to talk anymore.

“Don’t look at me like that!” He stops his movements to reach over and pull the pillow from behind you. He puts it over your face and thinks to hold it there, maybe to suffocate you for a second, but he doesn't. He’s already done enough bad. He just lets it sit there, you’re the one to grab it and hold it there. 

You hold it against your face like your life depends on it. You can't breathe very well, but what does it matter? You want him to go away.You want this to end. So, you cling onto that pillow and pretend like you’re anywhere but here.

It’s an illusion that fails quickly. You feel him press his length into you. It’s rushed, it hurts, and he doesn't know what he’s doing. You squeeze the pillow, and his sweaty hands play with your tits. You can feel the tears well up in your eyes. You don’t want this, it’s a nightmare.

He’s not that big, rather small actually, but he has girth. He hopes you can feel it. He moves slowly dragging every inch of himself against your walls. He mouths at your nipples and it feels yucky. At some point you’re sure you feel him lay a wet kiss on your stomach.

You don’t know. It’s over quickly, but it feels like forever.

 His thrusts were sloppy and unseasoned just like everything else he’s done. He’d never had sex before, but he hoped he was good. When he came his body seized and his fingers dug into your sides. He was glad you weren't watching because the embarrassment from coming so fast a second time was much easier to handle. 

You two sit in silence for a while after that, the only audible sound is you sniveling. He watches silently as your body shakes and tucks himself back in, to at least feel decent. It’s like that for five whole minutes until he finally decides to go back to his room. 

In the silence of his own dark room the water works start in full force as he comes to terms with what he’s done. He’s a degenerate who will struggle to sleep tonight.

[buckttommy]

If you could write one S5 scene for 9-1-1, with a song playing in the background, what would happen in the scene and what song would be playing? (also, hello!)

hiya!

in the spirit of us allegedly getting the scene of eddie crying tonight, i do actually have this scene in my head (that includes a lot more swearing) where eddie is standing in the locker room, changing out of his clothes for the day.

his movements are short, jerky, fingers fumbling over the buttons on his shirt. he's angry, but when isn't he these days? it seems like it takes nothing for latent fury to rise up in his bones. most of the time, it never goes anywhere, always rising just to fall again, but this time, eddie's anger has a source.

a tall, stubborn, annoyingly attentive source.

buck stands at the door of the locker room with his arms crossed over his chest. eddie doesn't even have to turn around to know he's there. of course he's there; eddie's so attuned to buck's body he thinks -- knows -- he could pinpoint his location just from the way his hair stands on the back of his neck, the way buck's gaze on him feels like a warm hand stroking down his spine.

it's comforting, most times. especially when they're out in the field. tonight, it just makes him feel exposed.

the locker room empties out one by one until it's just him and buck, and the silence that descends upon them is thick and charged. eddie remains turned toward the lockers.

"what do you want, buck?"

"i want you to talk to me."

talk to him, he says. eddie almost laughs. like it's that easy.

"there's nothing to say."

"bullshit," buck hisses. "you had a panic attack at work. when the helicopter--

"i know what happened," eddie says quickly. too quickly perhaps, if the annoyed little huff buck gives behind him is any indication. seeing that chopper go down brought up enough bad memories to last a lifetime.

"you know what happened," buck says, voice flat. then, "jesus christ," he mutters.

eddie hopes, perhaps foolishly, that that's the end of it. that buck will be so angry, so disgusted with him that he'll just walk away and let the conversation drop until the next time it inevitably comes up again, but eddie should know better, really, because buck's never been a quitter even when he should be.

buck steps fully into the room, and it's like every molecule of energy between them comes alive. eddie almost imagines he can feel his warmth.

buck stands in his peripheral vision. "you don't get it, do you? do you know what this is like for me? do you get that? seeing you walking around every. fucking. day like nothing's wrong, when i know you're dying inside?"

"i'm fine, buck."

"you're not fine!"

eddie freezes. it's the first time he's ever heard buck raise his voice like that. they've argued, brutally, but he's never heard that note to buck's voice--shaky and desperate and infuriated and... scared, yeah. there's a whole lot of fear there too. he doesn't know what to do with it.

"you're not fine," buck continues. "or did you think i wouldn't know that you haven't slept in two days. yeah," buck says when he catches the startled look on eddie's face, "you can thank christopher for that little tidbit since he called me yesterday past midnight wondering if a person could die from not getting enough sleep. that was a fun conversation to have."

eddie sharply turns to face buck. fuck. he'd thought--he'd thought he'd been keeping it together, thought that he'd been keeping himself in check so that at least chris didn't have to see. especially not after the suit shopping thing.

he swallows hard. "what did you tell him?"

"i told him that he had nothing to worry about. that i'd be over this weekend to make sure you were getting your rest."

it's a non-answer but it must have been enough to assuage chris's worries.

eddie clears his throat. "i--thank you. i didn't--know he'd been... worried."

"he's not a little kid anymore. he sees more than you think he does."

"yeah."

"and if he knows you're not okay, why don't you?"

it's the wrong thing to say.

eddie can't say why it's that little sentence that does it. even later, when he thinks about it, he can't say for sure--whether it was the inflection in buck's voice, or the fear behind his eyes, or the disappointment eddie was sure he must have felt, or maybe just a miserable combination of all three. but one minute eddie's standing in front of his locker -- their locker -- waiting for buck to say his piece so the conversation can end, and the next...

the next he breaks.

eddie slams the locker door shut. "is that what you think this is? you think i don't know that i'm not okay?" he can hear the note to his own voice -- flat and cold and numb all at the same time. "you think i don't know i haven't been okay since well before the shooting, or the tsunami, or hell, shannon? jesus christ, buck, it's all i know. i wake up every morning surprised that i even woke up at all. it's like i can't even breathe without thinking something's going to kill me, whether it's this... this fear i can't shake, or the job, or something else. every morning i wake up and i'm surprised that i get to see my son one more time. my son, who i can barely let my son out of my sight, by the way, because every time he leaves the house, i don't know if it's the last time i'll ever see him. and then once i get started on that train of thought, it's like i can't stop. what's the last thing i said to him? if something happens, does he know i love him? and sometimes i'm right, and i do good, and the last thing i said is 'i love you' but then other times it's 'don't forget to tell your teacher you have a dentist appointment friday' and i feel sick because the last thing my kid will ever hear from me is nothing that tells him how much i adore him, and how proud i am of him, and how he's saved me in more ways than he knows by just existing."

eddie's eyes burn hot with tears. it's like his brain has detached from his mouth, but the words keep coming and he's powerless to stop them.

[this song starts playing]

"but i'm fine, right?" he continues. "it's fine. i'm not going to be that dad who keeps my kid caged in a house because i can't control my fears, so i let him go to school, and hang out with his friends, and maybe if i'm lucky, both of us are going to survive the fucking day. and then i get to work, and it's like it all starts over again. hen's late, and the first thing i think is that she's dead in an accident. chim comes in looking exhausted and upset, and i think, oh god something's wrong with maddie and the baby. and you--" eddie lets out a dark laugh. "goddamn you. i let you out of my sight and it's like my heart fucking stops until i see you again. i let you out of my sight, and i think the next time i see your face, it'll be covered in blood, or the next thing i hear will be you scream in pain, and it scares me because i don't know who i am or who i'm going to be if i lose you. and it never stops. it never fucking stops. all the voices, and the pain, and the fear, it's all there, and it's choking me. so no, buck, i'm not okay. i'm not fucking okay, and i need help."

his voice cracks on the last word, every bitter fear and anxiety now spilled into the open, and there's a moment, just a moment, where all buck can do is stare.

he feels torn open from skull to sternum, eddie's pain is so sharp visceral he swears he feels it mirrored in his own body. swears that if he looks down, he'll see nothing but a mess of blood spilling from all the open wounds in his flesh, and it feels like death.

so there's a moment, where buck stands and he bleeds and he dies.

but then. then, he grabs eddie into his arms. it's almost violent, the way he grips him -- too rough and too tight and too fierce, but eddie grips him back just as tight, face buried in his neck.

"it's okay," buck chokes, "it's okay, it's okay, we'll get you some help, it's okay, we're okay, you're not alone, it's okay" and he presses his lips to the top of eddie's head, to the side of his face, anywhere he can reach, just so he can touch and soothe as much of him as he possibly can. and they just stand there holding each other, shaking apart in each other's arms until the scene fades to black.

[spicykoreantatertots]

The Dive Bar and an Old Fashioned (or Five)

Pairing: CEO!Taehyung x Bartender!Jungkook (briefly ft. Beomgyu of TXT)

Word Count: 5k

Genres: Non-Idol AU

Warnings: Misunderstandings and a trip to the hospital (but everyone is okay).

A/N: I’m so happy I got the opportunity to write this fic in honor of one of @bangtan-headquarters​‘ editors, @rkivepacks​!! This is a very well deserved gift and I apologize for the delay on getting this out. I hope you can enjoy this! Also shout out to @guktro​ for the stunning banner! ~~~~~~~ After signing the lease on a new warehouse down town, Taehyung decides to stop by a nearby dive bar for a quick drink to celebrate the further expansion of his company. 

Taehyung pulls on the heavy door and quickly steps in. He starts to pull off his dark Armani jacket, but he quickly realizes that there is no one there to take it from him. He shrugs it back on and walks toward the bar. 

The dim lighting makes it hard to tell which of the bar stools is the least dirty and he wonders if that’s intentional. The bar top itself is surprisingly not sticky. While waiting on the bartender to make an appearance, Taehyung scans the other patrons. 

Several large men with oil-stained hands sit around a table, beers piling up quickly in the middle. A couple of older men sitting at the other end of the bar sipping on whiskeys. There’s a few people huddled around a game of cards in the back corner booth. Quite a few people considering it’s just after 5pm on a weeknight. 

“I’ll be right with you.” The bartender nods in Taehyung’s direction, appearing from behind a swinging door carrying a large tray of nachos. He takes it over to the table of large men and clears away the empty beer bottles. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks when he approaches. Taehyung looks up to ask for his usual, but his breath catches. From a distance, he didn’t realize how beautiful the bartender is. 

“Uh, just, uh, whatever’s on special.” Taehyung chokes out and, to his dismay, the bartender flashes a half smile. He quickly looks down at his phone to try and catch his breath. He scrolls through a few work emails and responds to a text from his mom, something he’d been putting off.

The bartender sets down an Old Fashioned in front of Taehyung and heads back into the kitchen. Taehyung sets his phone down and lifts the glass a few inches, inspecting its contents. 

He’s used to drinking cocktails made with the finest spirits, but he can’t imagine that this bar has anything higher quality than Jim Beam. There’s a thick slice of an orange and two cherries floating alongside the ice cubes. He’s not quite sure what to make of it, but he takes a sip anyway. 

The cheap bourbon burns on its way down, but there’s a sweet aftertaste that follows. The bartender definitely put too much sugar in, but the sweetness soothes his throat. Taehyung gulps down the drink, not wanting to offend the handsome bartender, but also not wanting to savor the taste of it.

“Did you like it?” The bartender seems to have appeared out of nowhere, his dark eyes wide and hopeful. Taehyung scans his beautiful features, a face he refuses to disappoint. 

“It was actually really really good!” Taehyung overenthuses. He picks up the glass and shakes the ice around. 

“Great I’ll make you another!” The bartender spins on his heels and grabs a new glass. 

“No I-” Taehyung stops himself, accepting his defeat. “That’d be great... what’s your name, Mr. Bartender?” He questions. 

“Jungkook.” The bartender turns back around and sets a fresh drink in front Taehyung. “And you are?” 

“I’m Taehyung. Nice to meet you.” Taehyung tries to smile behind another sip of cheap bourbon. It doesn’t burn as much when he’s got two doe eyes trained on him.

The third doesn’t burn quite as much either.

The fourth doesn’t burn at all.

The fifth... well Taehyung can barely remember the fifth drink of the night. 

~~~~~~~

A loud and unfamiliar ringing sound wakes Taehyung. When he opens his eyes, he can see sunlight pouring in, and he knows he’s late for work. He pulls back the sheets and rushes to find the source of the ringing. 

He follows the sound through his large penthouse and finds himself in a room he very rarely visits: the utility room. Hanging on the wall near the cabinet with cleaning supplies is a corded landline phone. 

Who even has landlines anymore?

“Hello?” Taehyung picks up the phone, fiddling with the tangled cord. 

“You’re late.” Hye-jin is on the other end.

“Why do I have a landline phone in my million dollar penthouse?” Taehyung rubs the bridge of his nose, a headache is forming behind his brow.

“So I can call you when your phone is dead and you are late.” She responds.

“Can you rearrange some things? I need a shower and some coffee.” And some time to remember what I did last night. Taehyung yawns into the phone. He just hopes he didn’t make too much of a fool of himself in front of Jungkook.

“I can’t rearrange an international call, you know that. There’s a driver there to pick you up, we’ll have to go pick up your car later. I hope it’s still intact. I’ll have coffee for you by the time you get here.”

“Thanks.” Taehyung slams the phone into its holder. Much more satisfying than hitting the non-existent button on a glass screen. 

Taehyung returns to his bedroom and plugs his phone into the wall. It charges up while he washes his face and brushes his teeth. He carefully puts on a clean suit and grabs a pair of sunglasses before he heads down to the ground floor. 

In the town car, he finally opens his phone and scrolls through the barrage of emails, texts, and other notifications from his assistant Hye-jin. At the bottom of the notifications, there are a few texts from The Cute Bartender.

The headache intensifies, but Taehyung clicks on the messages to assess the damage.

TCB [2:40am]: Hey let me know when you get home safe. 

TCB [2:46am]: Oh I realize your phone is probably dead. Maybe when you come back for your car you could stop back in for another drink. It was nice talking to you all night. 

TCB [3:34am]: Next time I won’t make you so many Old Fashioneds. 

Taehyung breaths out a small sigh of relief. It’s not as bad as he expected it to be considering he can’t really remember what happened. 

~~~~~~~

Hye-jin greets Taehyung in the lobby of the office building with an iced coffee. She updates him on his meetings for the day as they walk toward the elevator, but the moment the doors close, she changes the subject. 

“Tell me about Jungkook.” Hye-jin turns and cocks her eyebrow. Taehyung tries not to react. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He replies, taking a rather large sip of his drink. 

“Did you check all your texts this morning? You texted me a dozen times last night about “the cutest guy you’ve ever seen” and I want to know more.” She emphasizes her urgency with a few taps of her foot. 

“Can we do this later?” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but he knows he won’t be able to avoid her forever. 

“Fine, we’ll talk when I drive you to your car later.” The elevator stops on the 47th floor instead of the 50th. Taehyung gives Hye-jin a questioning look. “I’m going to go talk to the cute girl in IT that helped me set up my new computer. I think it’s got a virus...” Hye-jin gives her best pouty face and promises to be in the conference room for the international call before stepping out of the elevator. 

Taehyung takes out his phone and scrolls through his messages with Hye-jin.

Taehyung [1:32am]: i’m at th at bar dow by the new warehouse with the CUTEST BARTNDER UVE EVR SEEN

Taehyung [1:33am]: he’s CUTE AND SINGEL AND FUNNY???

Taehyung [1:46am]: he keeps making me drinks but they are not that good

Taehyung [1:53am]: his name is jungkook and i’m going to ask him out

Taehyung [1:54am]: HAHA i can’t ask him out

Taehyung [1:55am]: i asked him out

Taehyung [2:34am]: he said he would love to go out sometime and then called me a cab is that mixed signals or what

Flashes of boisterously drunk Taehyung appear in his mind as he reads through the texts. Did he really ask out Jungkook or was he being his dramatic drunken self?

~~~~~~~

The work day drags on with meetings and spreadsheets and green juice that Hye-jin swears will cure any hangover. Taehyung swears the only cure for his hangovers is a big bowl of ramen, which he orders for lunch. The soothing broth relaxes him, heals his soul much more than some watery greens could. 

Lunchtime is one of the few times that Taehyung can sit in his office undisturbed. His secretary holds his calls, Hye-jin leaves him alone, and he can sit and enjoy the view from his window. The world seems so small from the 50th floor. 

Today, after slurping down his ramen, he stands in front of the floor to ceiling windows and looks far off to the east. He can’t quite see the warehouse from here, but if he focuses hard enough he can imagine where it would be. He can imagine the bar down the street too. 

There’s not much that Taehyung can learn about Jungkook without having his last name. He searches for the dive bar on Google, but aside from the phone number and hours of operation, there’s not a lot of information to go off of. A text pops up, interrupting his thoughts. 

Hye-jin [1:17pm]: Sorry to bother you during your lunch, but I ran a background check on Jungkook. I can bring you the report if you’d like to see it.

Taehyung [1:17pm]: How did you find him, I don’t even know his last name.

Hye-jin [1:18pm]: Do you doubt my sleuthing skills?

He should have known that Hye-jin would go sleuthing sooner or later. Taehyung flips back over to the unhelpful Google search. And he thinks. Does he really want to know what that report has to say about Jungkook? His past jobs, education, relatives, his debt? And what does Jungkook know about Taehyung? Probably not a lot. 

Taehyung [1:19pm]: Is there anything dangerous in his past?

Hye-jin [1:21pm]: No, there’s not. He seems pretty legit.

Taehyung [1:21pm]: Then I don’t want to see it.

Hye-jin [1:21pm]: WHAT

~~~~~~~

“Would you mind explaining to me why you don’t want to read this THOROUGH report about your new love interest?” Hye-jin interrogates Taehyung the moment he steps into her car after work. 

“Can you even call him a love interest? I don’t even remember asking him out.” Taehyung points out. 

“I’m just trying to protect you.” Hye-jin sighs. “You know people take advantage of wealthy men with good hearts...” 

Silence falls between them in the car. Taehyung knows that she’s right. He’s been hurt many times before.

“Maybe I should... try to hide it.” He suggests.

“Hide what? Your money?” Hye-jin scoffs. “You better get rid of that Rolex and that Armani tie.”

“You think he can tell?”

“He’s a man who dates men. He can tell.” Hye-jin and Taehyung roll their eyes at each other. 

Hye-jin pulls up next to Taehyung’s BMW and waits for him to get out. 

“You know, you probably shouldn’t let him see that car either.” She laughs. 

Taehyung gets out of her car and walks around his car once to make sure everything is just the way he left it. After finding his hubcaps intact, he unlocks his car and gets in. Hye-jin honks a couple of times as she drives away. 

He flips the sun visor to look at himself in the mirror. His hair is getting long again, it’s curling at the ends. He looks pretty good for someone who got absolutely hammered last night. Looking down at his watch, he decides to shed the accessories that make him stand out from the crowd. His watch, his tie, and his Saint Laurent wallet, opting to shove a few twenties in his pocket instead. 

He gets out of his car and walks down the street toward the bar he visited the night before. As he approaches the door, he can feel the nerves fluttering around in his stomach. He recalls the cheeky smile on Jungkook’s face and he cannot wait to see it again. 

Once again ducking into the poorly lit bar, Taehyung heads straight for the bar. 

“There he is!” Jungkook shouts from behind the bar. He begins slowly clapping as Taehyung approaches the bar and sits down on the same stool from last night. “I’m glad to see you in one piece.” 

“Thank you.” Taehyung laughs, admiring the tall bartender. “I have to be honest, I’m still recovering my memories from last night.” He adds with a sigh. 

“Oh no, does that mean you don’t remember stripping on the bartop?” Jungkook chuckles.

“I did WHAT?” Taehyung’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and his cheeks turn red. 

“I’m kidding Tae. Calm down, calm down.” Jungkook, still laughing, places a napkin on the bar in front of Taehyung. “What can I get you?”

Taehyung, still stuck on being called Tae, gives Jungkook a puzzled look. Jungkook looks back at him with a small smile as he processes the information. But the lingering eye contact draws Taehyung in, the original question long forgotten, a new one forming to take its place. 

“Listen... did I...” Taehyung pauses, finally breaking eye contact. He licks his lips and starts again. “Did I happen to ask you out last night?”

“Yeah you did.”  Jungkook smiles to himself as his cheeks heat up. “You were pretty drunk though, so I wasn’t going to say anything.” He grabs a bar rag and wipes down the already clean bartop. 

“You probably get hit on at work all the time.” Taehyung watches the blush on Jungkook’s face deepen and he feels his confidence level rising. “Well, I’m sober now and the offer still stands, if you’re at all interested.” Taehyung lifts an eyebrow at the bartender. 

“I’d like that.” Jungkook flashes his teeth. “So, can I get you something to drink?”

“I think I’ll pass tonight. Would you like to meet for dinner on Saturday?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook works on weeknights, so he hopes that he has weekends off.

“Ahh Saturday?” Jungkook runs his fingers through his dark locks and looks off into the distance, thinking. “I can’t on Saturday. I know it’s a bit weird, but would Monday work? The bar is closed on Mondays.”

“Monday is perfect.” Taehyung replies. “I’ll text you details and see you then.” They exchange smiles and Taehyung leaves the bar. 

Once he’s back in his car, he lets himself breathe. He has a date with the most beautiful bartender he’s ever seen. His eyes shine even in the darkness of the bar, what will it be like to see him in the real world?

~~~~~~~

On Saturday, alone in his apartment, Taehyung sits and tries to focus on the movie his friend Jimin recommended he watch. All he can think about, though, is a pair of doe eyes and a brilliant smile. 

He tried to stay busy, but after working out, cooking lunch and dinner, and doing some online shopping, he still finds himself bored out of his mind, wishing that Jungkook had the night off. 

Taehyung [7:54pm]: I can’t stop thinking about him.

Hye-jin [7:55pm]: Don’t you have a short pink haired friend you can hang out with? Or at least text him, I’m sure he’s at home alone. 

Jimin [7:55pm]: I HEARD THAT

Hye-jin [7:56pm]: Did you seriously put us in a group chat??

Hye-jin [7:56pm]: I’m getting ready to go OUT LEAVE ME ALONE

Jimin [7:57pm]: Did you say he was working tonight, why don’t you just go visit him?

Taehyung [7:57pm]: I was thinking about it....

Hye-jin [7:57pm]: NO

Hye-jin [7:58pm]: DO NOT DO THAT YOU WILL LOOK SO DESPERATE

Jimin [7:58pm]: Don’t you have somewhere to be hag

Hye-jin [7:59pm]: DO YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU PUT YOUR TWO GAY BEST FRIENDS IN A GROUP CHAT

Taehyung [8:00pm]: I’m going to the bar ttyl

Hye-jin [8:00pm]: NOOOOO

Jimin [8:00pm]: YESSSSSS

~~~~~~~

On a typical Saturday night, Taehyung would be in a town car on his way to a nightclub on the north side, decked out in Gucci from head to toe, ready to dance the night away. Tonight, he’s driving himself downtown, dressed in some casual clothes he normally wouldn’t wear outside his apartment. 

Taehyung finds a spot to park a block away from the bar and walks the distance, nerves nibbling away at his insides. As he approaches the bar, he can tell it's quite a bit busier than it has been before. Maybe this isn’t a great idea. 

Pushing away his doubts, Taehyung opens the door and walks into the now familiar bar. The place is pretty packed. Groups of loud, boisterous men huddled around tables and booths watching the game on the televisions. He approaches the bar and an unfamiliar face greets him. 

“What can I get ya?” The short bartender asks. Taehyung looks around to see if he can locate Jungkook, but after scanning the room he finds nothing. The bartender clears his throat and asks again.

“Actually, is Jungkook here?” Taehyung questions. 

“Are you his new friend?” The bartender scans Taehyung’s face, then shakes his head. “He’s with Beomgyu tonight.” 

“Oh.” The nerves flitting around his stomach turned to stone.

This wasn’t a great idea.

~~~~~~~

Sunday was spent at Jimin’s apartment eating carbs. Switching between cursing and praising Jungkook. He’s so stunning, Taehyung was stupid to think that he was the only one Jungkook was seeing.

“I’ve been avoiding asking you this, but are you still going to go out with him tomorrow night?” Jimin questions Taehyung gently.

The two of them are sprawled out on Jimin’s broken down sofa. The leather is worn out under them, but it’s much more comfortable than the high end couch at Taehyung’s place. They are sharing a bowl of popcorn. Some drama is playing in the background of their conversation. 

“I guess so. I mean it’s not like he lied about anything. It just kind of sucks.” Taehyung sulks.

“I think you should confront him about the Beom-whoever.” Jimin gets up from the couch to replenish their snacks. “What kind of name is that anyway?” He mumbles to himself. 

As Jimin continues muttering to himself, Taehyung grabs his phone from the coffee table. He ignores the I told you so messages from Hye-jin and opens his conversation with The Cute Bartender. As he rereads the caring messages Jungkook sent him a few days ago, the text bubble pops up. 

Taehyung sits up straight on the couch and Jimin returns with chips and pocky. The bubble pops up and disappears a few times before the message finally comes through. 

TCB [4:48pm]: Hey, are we still on for tomorrow night? Let me know what sounds good for dinner. 

Taehyung sets the phone back down on the table and closes his eyes. Why does he feel so much turmoil over this bartender. He barely knows him. What is so special about Jungkook? Taehyung tries his hardest to forget the curve of his cheeks... his nose... his lips. 

When he opens his eyes again, his phone is not on the table, it’s in Jimin’s hands. 

“What are you doing?!” Taehyung shouts, reaching for his phone. But it’s too late. The message that Jimin had been typing out was sent. 

Taehyung [4:49pm]: How was your date with Beomgyu?

“Why would you do that?!” Taehyung shouts. “Now he is going to think I’m stalking him!”

“You deserve to know the truth!” Jimin shouts in return. They both watch and the typing bubble appears. 

TCB [4:50pm]: What? 

TCB [4:50pm]: How do you know about Beomgyu?

Taehyung doesn’t hesitate with his response.

Taehyung [4:51pm]: The other bartender told me. I went to visit you at work last night, but obviously you weren’t there. 

TCB [4:51pm]: Yoongi?

TCB [4:51pm]: Listen, I promise it isn’t what it sounds like.

TCB [4:52pm]: Let me explain over dinner tomorrow night. My treat.

Taehyung and Jimin consider the offer. If he isn’t dating Beomgyu, then who is he? 

Taehyung [4:52pm]: Okay.

~~~~~~~

The sushi restaurant that Jungkook picked is a little bit... quaint. Is quaint the right word? Taehyung is used to dining at sushi restaurants that have plates starting at $40, but the most expensive thing on the menu here is a $12 Drunken Sailor roll. 

There are a few people eating at the bar and a few tables taken up around the restaurant. Taehyung arrived early so he could ground himself before facing Jungkook. He’s still embarrassed about the message Jimin sent. Maybe he’ll be able to explain himself....

“Hey! You’re early.” Jungkook is walking in the door. He’s wearing dark ripped jeans and a plain white t-shirt. The same thing he usually wears at work. Every part of him is shining. 

“Yeah sorry.” Taehyung tries to laugh, but it comes out more as a cough. “I’ve never eaten here before, thought I’d check out the menu.” He gestures toward the menu board that’s secured to the ceiling. 

“Well everything is good here. I come here at least once a week.” Jungkook smiles brightly. This is exactly why Taehyung came early. He knew he would struggle to focus on anything but Jungkook. 

It’s not just his physical beauty. The way he carries himself is so warm and inviting and Taehyung wants to be close to him. Even after the awkwardness from the day before, it feels so natural to be standing there with him. 

“The Drunken Sailor roll sounds interesting, but I may have to stick with the timeless classic, the California roll.” Taehyung says.

“Ah, you know I’ve been meaning to try the Drunken Sailor. It’s a new addition to the menu.” Jungkook steps forward to order and pay for the two of them. “Two California rolls and a Drunken Sailor roll. Oh and a bottle of sake.” 

Jungkook confidently leads Taehyung toward the back of the restaurant to a booth. The way he slides into the seat, Taehyung can tell this is his preferred spot in the restaurant. 

“So I guess, I should go ahead and address the elephant in the room.” Jungkook starts. A waiter brings two glasses of water, two empty cups, and a bottle of apple sake. Taehyung reaches for his water to sip.

“I think there was a misunderstanding. Yoongi thought you already knew about Beomgyu.” Jungkook says as he pours some of the sake into the cups, Taehyung chokes a little on his water. 

“Who is Beomgyu?” Taehyung finally asks. Jungkook waits a moment, sipping the sake before responding. 

“Beomgyu is my son.” Jungkook states plainly. Taehyung pauses to absorb the information, but quickly a feeling of relief washes over him. 

“Did you mention him when I was wasted?” He asks.

“No, no. I don’t usually tell people I have a son until after a few dates.” Jungkook replies. It makes sense. It’s safer to protect the child’s identity. “But I like you and I didn’t want to throw our chance away because I wasn’t telling you the whole truth.” 

Taehyung smiles, but he feels a twinge of guilt growing in his gut. He had been planning to hide his wealth from Jungkook, but maybe he should just be honest too. 

“In the spirit of being honest, maybe I should tell you that I’m... fairly wealthy?” Taehyung’s voice fades to a whisper by the end. “I run a company.” He adds. 

Jungkook cracks a smile. 

“I know.” He says. “You told me all about that when you were drunk.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“Oh really?” Taehyung scratches the back of his head. How embarrassing. 

“To be honest, that’s another reason why I didn’t want to tell you about Beommie at first.” Jungkook shuffles in his seat. “I don’t want you to think that I’m interested in you for your money. I mean look at this place, obviously I don’t make a lot of money.”

“Hey this place is great. I’m sure the sushi is delicious.” Taehyung argues. 

“Yeah, it’s just. I don’t want you to think that I’ve got a son and I’m a... gold digger.” At that, the two of them break out into laughter. 

“Well when I’m sober, I try not to let many people know about my money. It changes the way people act around you.” Taehyung sighs, pouring himself some of the sake.

“It’s the same with having kids. No one is interested in dating someone who is already tied down like that.” Jungkook watches Taehyung’s face carefully for a reaction, but he just furrows his brow. 

“I think kids are great.” Taehyung shares with a genuine smile. 

“I’d love for you to meet Beomgyu sometime in the future. I usually wait until things are more serious than a first date to introduce him to people.” Jungkook explains and Taehyung lifts a brow. 

“Not, not that there’s been a lot of people, I’ve only introduced him to one person I dated a while ago.” Jungkook tries to recover.

“Hey, hey it’s okay. We both have pasts. I am kind of curious though, are you gay or bisexual? Most single gays don’t end up with children.” Taehyung questions and Jungkook shakes his head a little.

“I don’t really like to label myself. I guess back then I thought I was straight, but now?” Jungkook taps his fingers against the table, thinking. “I guess most people would label me pansexual.” 

“Wow so I’m in competition with... everyone then?” Taehyung chuckles to himself and then takes a sip of the sake. 

“I actually met Beomgyu’s mother in high school, we were-” Jungkook is cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Jungkook fishes the phone out of his pocket. “And this is her, sorry I have to take this.”

Jungkook scoots out of the booth and steps away from the table. Taehyung can tell by his body language that he’s worried. After just a few seconds on the phone, Jungkook returns to the table with a crease in his brow. 

“Apparently Beomgyu fell and hit his head pretty hard. He’s okay, but he’s at the hospital getting checked out...” Jungkook trails off. 

“Oh, okay, we can reschedule for another time.” Taehyung throws a couple of twenty dollar bills on the table and exits the booth, but Jungkook pauses. 

“Listen, I rode my bike here, could you possibly... give me a ride?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.  

“That’s no problem at all.” Taehyung motions for Jungkook to follow him and leads the way to his car at a quick pace. Jungkook seems unfazed by the shiny BMW parked down the street. 

“I really appreciate this, Tae.” Jungkook smiles over at Taehyung as they buckle into their seats. 

“Please don’t worry about it.” Taehyung reaches over and squeezes Jungkook’s hand before driving off toward the hospital. 

~~~~~~~

“Would you like me to wait here, or I can schedule a Lyft for you?” Taehyung questions Jungkook when they arrive at the children’s hospital and he thinks about it for a moment. 

“Would you like to come in? I know it’s very sudden to meet Beomgyu, but...” Jungkook squeezes Taehyung’s hand that he hadn’t yet let go of. “I’ve got a good feeling.” 

The two men navigate the hospital corridors together, stopping to peer inside the window of Beomgyu’s hospital bed. The small boy, who shares many of his father’s beautiful features, is playing with his mother’s cell phone. 

“Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes?” Jungkook asks.

Taehyung nods and Jungkook enters the hospital room. Immediately Beomgyu abandons the phone and Taehyung can see him mouth something excitedly to his dad. Jungkooks sits on the foot of Beomgyu’s bed, his all black outfit stark against the clinical background.

Taehyung catches Beomgyu’s mom looking at him while she talks to Jungkook. She’s beautiful too. She stands and collects her phone from Beomgyu before exiting the room.

“I’m going for a coffee, would you like anything?” She says with a coy smile. Taehyung shakes his head and gives her a little wave. 

Jungkook is still chatting with his son. Beomgyu is animatedly explaining something to him and both his and Jungkook’s eyes light up, almost a mirror image. Taehyung is grinning when Jungkook looks over at him and motions for him to enter the room. 

Taehyung cautiously enters the room, but keeps his distance. He gives wide-eyed Beomgyu a wave and a slight bow. 

“Hello, I’m Taehyung. You must be Beomgyu?” The boy nods. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Beomgyu smiles, but his attention is quickly grabbed by the doctor entering the room. 

“Which of you is Mr. Jeon?” Jungkook promptly stands. “I’ll catch you up quickly.” Jungkook follows the doctor back into the hall to discuss Beomgyu’s status. 

Taehyung crosses the room and sits on a chair near the window. Beomgyu’s eyes follow him curiously. 

“Beomgyu, what kind of things do you do for fun?” Taehyung questions.

“I like to do art!” He responds. 

“What’s your favorite medium to work with?” Taehyung continues.

“Medium..?” Beomgyu’s face twists with confusion. 

“Ah.... Do you like to draw with crayons or do you like to paint?” Taehyung clarifies his question. 

“I like to paint, but my mom thinks it’s too messy, so I mostly draw.” Beomgyu explains. 

“I like to paint too. Maybe we can paint together sometime. I have an art studio in my home.” Taehyung smiles. 

~~~~~~~

After the doctor gets the important information out of the way, the fact that Beomgyu will be okay and doesn’t require any treatments, Jungkook’s gaze falls back inside the hospital room. Taehyung and his son are laughing about something together. Taehyung seems like a natural. 

“Dad!”

“Beomgyu!” Jungkook responds as he enters the room. 

“Taehyung is so cool, he said we could do art together and he doesn’t even care if we make a mess!” Beomgyu practically falls off the hospital bed in excitement. 

“Wow that sounds like fun, as long as it’s at his house.” Jungkook winks at Taehyung, who smiles and nods in return. 

“Can he stay for dinner tonight?” Beomgyu asks, Taehyung’s smile growing wider. 

Maybe he can stay forever... Jungkook thinks.

~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!

[ifyoulovemeletmebinge]

We’re All Monsters

destiel au where everything in canon is used at the wrong time and oh also cas is a monster. 

RATED M 

read it on ao3 here: 

Part 1 

Part 2

Part 3

Dean has Castiel pinned to the wall in a blink.

He’s disgusted and he feels dirty, and betrayed, and he’d rather Castiel had killed him 15 years ago.

“Shut the fuck up, man,” he hisses in Castiel’s face. Dean’s mind is whirling with thoughts, spinning in a hurricane, and he can’t make sense of much at this moment except John killed Cas’s dad, Cas has been stalking him for almost two decades, and now he wants Dean to help him become human?

Dean can’t even count the degrees of fucked up here.

“Dean,” Castiel grunts low, against the forearm over his windpipe. “You don’t have to trust me, you just have to help me.”

“I said, shut the fuck up. You’re lying.”

Castiel clenches his jaw. He grabs at Dean’s shoulders and spins them around, much stronger and faster, and then they’re in the same position back at the bar, and Dean is willing his dick to fucking behave.

“I’ve got no reason to lie to you. It serves me nothing. I need your help, Dean. You’re the only one who can turn me. You and your brother have connections I don’t, spells I couldn’t get my hands on. I need you.”

“How do you know about Sam?” Dean bites out.

“I told you,” Castiel lets up a little, takes a single step back. “I’ve been checking in on you every few months since we met. I moved to Lebanon a few years back when I saw you were here.”

“You’re fucked up, dude. Why would you do that? My daddy kills your daddy and you think we’re friends?”

Castiel looks down, frowns, and Dean sees something real there. “I wanted to keep you safe. Your father, as weird as this may seem… Dean, he saved me from a much harsher existence. I guess I felt I owed it to him. As a thank you.”

Unprompted, Dean’s mind goes back to that night and he sees the bite marks, their ugly texture again, feels the weight on top of his hips pinning him down as dinner on the ground. He’s looking at Castiel and all he can think of is how he’s a monster. One of them.

But if Cas is a monster, just like his father before him, why was he grateful John practically made him an orphan? It occurs to Dean that he has no idea what Castiel’s dad made him do, and then it occurs to him that it’s so ugly he might not want to know.

Dean clears his throat and responds quietly, “Well, Mr. Winchester really appreciates it.” He waits until Castiel looks back up at him to ask: “You said you were half-human?”

“My mother,” Castiel nods, his face somber in an instant. “She raised me until her death and then my father found me. And he tried to make me like him for years, until your father. Until you.”

Dean realizes then that he feels pity, and a lot of it. He realizes that the Castiel he met at the bar might have been covering it up but it was there, and it’s here now. He feels a little breathless because this is something John’s journal can’t help him with. Here, in front of him, is a monster, asking not to be, acting like he isn’t. He’s more than one hundred percent sure no hunter in the history of hunting has ever gone through this before. Castiel is one of a kind.

“What are you, Cas?”

Castiel swallows, turning and walking over to sit on the couch. Dean stays leaning against the wall, needing something real that will convince him to not kill the other (half) man in the room with him until he fully explains.

Castiel’s eyes are blue in all the ways they can be. “I don’t know,” he responds. “I just know I can’t be like this anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s eyebrows furrow.

“It means that you’re my only chance of living for the rest of my life. Otherwise, I’d rather die.”

Dean knows that look too well, sees it in himself sometimes, and before he can stop himself, he asks, “What the hell did you do, Cas?”

Castiel sighs, looking like his exhaustion runs bone-deep. He swallows, opens his mouth, closes it.

He takes a moment and tries again. “I almost killed a man. He was homeless, and I was trying to help. I bent down to give him some money, and I hadn’t eaten anything of real substance in months…” Castiel’s throat works uselessly. “I guess I lost control,” he finishes hoarsely.

Dean's brain is not connected to his mouth and it’s working on its own to ask the worst questions it can. But Dean tries not to feel too bad, because Castiel is a monster, as he prompts, “What kind of food do you eat?”

Castiel presses his knuckles to his eyelids, rubbing them. “I’ve never killed anyone, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ve only had deceased bodies. With being half-human, I found I don’t need to eat as much, but if I want to keep living I need to eat eventually. The longest I’ve gone without feeding was 7 and a half months and I was on the brink of death by then.”

“You almost killed me that night.”

Castiel pulls his hand away from his eyes and glares up at Dean. “Emphasis on almost.”

Despite himself and the situation, Dean chuckles. Maybe it’s Castiel’s half-human side, maybe Dean’s still drunk, but it feels easy. It’s exactly like it was back at the bar yet everything’s changed. Dean’s not sure he’s gonna leave with Castiel this time. Dean’s not sure he’s gonna leave a decapitated body behind, either.

In this state of questioning, he decides to sit down next to Castiel on the couch.

“So that’s the why now. Why us?”

Castiel tilts his head, narrows his eyes. “You’re the Winchesters. Surely, you must know what that means within your own circle. Sam is a great sorcerer, and you’re the best hunter in history.”

Dean feels his cheeks heat up a little, embarrassed. “Sheesh, I thought you stopped the sweet talkin’ act at the bar, Cas. We’re just guys doin’ our best. We’re not all that.”

Castiel stares into his soul as he disagrees, “You’re worth more than you think.”

Dean wants to kiss him. He does. He doesn’t have air in his lungs because he’s never heard that from anyone before, and maybe the only source of oxygen left is Cas’s lips. Dean wants to breathe. But he grips his kneecaps tightly, and holds himself back.

He stands up again, clears his throat. Dean doesn’t know why, but he believes Cas. He’s gonna help him. If he can’t help him then…

“Dude,” he turns back to Castiel, crossing his arms. “Whatever happens, you gotta leave us alone after this. This stalking thing is just…”

“I understand, Dean,” Castiel says gravely, resolved. “In any scenario, you’ll never have to deal with me again after this. I swear it.”

****

All in all, it’s not surprising in the least that Sam was excited about the situation Dean found himself in.

He called Sam in the middle of the night, waking him up, and after the grumpy moose-witch sleepily groaned his frustrations out through the phone, Dean told him segments of the truth and what he planned to do. Sam didn’t need to know that Cas had been stalking them, or that they’d briefly met as teens, or that they made out before Cas kidnapped him. Sam just needed to agree to say some of his Latin crap, wave his hands around a little, and try to cure Cas.

Was it really curing if Castiel had never been… evil in the first place?

Dean didn’t want to think about monster ethics, he just wanted to see if Sam could help him solve the problem, so he could be rid of it. Getting rid of Castiel seemed like the best thing to do so he wouldn’t have to think about the mess his dad made. If he had just killed him back then, he wouldn’t be dealing with this now! Dean was having a tug of war in his brain, one side already swinging a machete at Cas’s neck, the other bringing him to the bunker to see where this went, to make him normal, and maybe give him a life.

He hunted to help people, and in a fucked up way, that’s what this was.

But this was also completely unprecedented. Dean didn’t and wouldn’t have anyone else to tell him what is the right or wrong answer. He had to figure this out himself. He had to go with his gut.

Well, his gut told him that Castiel seemed like a good person that just had the wrong blood running through his veins. His nature was good, no matter how much they tried to nurture him to be his worst.

Dean’s evidence? Apart from an excellent guessing streak and a trusty gut feeling that always got him out of the shit at the last minute, Castiel had confessed to have been watching him and Sam for… yeah, 15 whole years. If he wanted them dead, he could have done it by now. That’s just a fact.

Another fact was how… human Castiel was. Is. He is half-human. Dean has to remind himself that when Castiel effortlessly lifts up his living room couch. He also has to remind himself Castiel is half-monster when he delicately hands him a cup of warm tea. Dean only grimaces at it a little, and then he blows on it once, downs it impatiently, and they leave for the bunker. He ignores the burning in the back of his throat and on his tongue, and he lets Led Zeppelin fill the silence on the drive back.

Dawn is still breaking when they get to the bunker. Dean has not slept in over a day, and the back of his head is swollen, and he just wants his bed. He can wake up and deal with Cas after he gets his four hours.

Sam is practically jumping up and down, eyes wide and alert and assessing as he meets Castiel, like he’s the coolest science-experiment-gone-wrong he’s ever seen. Dean feels bad for Cas, who simply stands there in that trenchcoat and lets Sam stumble through asking his questions and studying him. Dean has to remind himself yet again that Castiel is a monster. Then he’s off to bed.

****

Maybe it was the borderline concussion, but Dean’s body ends up needing a good six fucking hours, and he wakes up like the birds are singing him awake. He’s not even that bothered by the thought that there is a human-eating monster in his house. Maybe the night made his newest problem seem worse than it is.

But maybe the monster problem isn’t it. The actual problem would be Dean’s attraction to said monster.

Castiel has stripped down to just his white collared shirt, sleeves rolled up. No tie. They’re in the basement when he finds them, where Cas is sitting on a dentist-looking chair, and Sam is barely fitting in a normal chair right next to him. There are various small vials on top of the table behind them, where a bunch of bowls and needles also sit. Dean feels a little sick at the sight.

“What’s goin’ on here?”

Sam is so engrossed in the conversation with Castiel, he jumps a little, blinking, and then he looks at Dean. “Oh! Mornin’ Dean. I got some blood samples from Castiel, and we were just talking about possible things we could use them for. Like spells and such we could try. He knows his stuff,” Sam can���t hide the surprise in his voice. “He’s actually studied a lot of witchcraft.”

Dean nods. When he looks at Castiel, he’s struck back by his little smile and his bright eyes. He looks… excited. Dean feels something behind his ribs twist.

“Good morning, Dean. How is your head? How did you sleep?”

“His head?” Sam whips his head to Castiel, furrowing his brows.

Subconsciously, Dean brings a hand up to the back of his head. “It’s fine.” Then to Sam, “I, uh. I backed into a tall shelf over at Cas’s. ‘S nothing.”

Castiel seems utterly relieved to hear, and Sam just shrugs after a few seconds of staring at Dean. He goes back to sealing the vial in his hand.

But Dean is looking at Castiel again, and Castiel at Dean. Dean has to swallow to start breathing again. He wants to kick Sam out and jump on Cas. He wants to sit down and ask him if he’s okay, how he’s feeling about being poked and prodded at (even if he said he’d do anything for his goal). Hell, he wants to hold his hand and put a bandaid on him. He wants to get the fuck out of there, where the air is suddenly too thin, and where he sees Castiel’s face fall after his own crumbles.

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 05

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.3k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): swearing, mentions of blood, mentions of hybrid abuse, mention of decomposition, mentions of murder (stabbing), mentions of gambling, mention of a sex club.

♤ A/N: Not super proud of this chapter, but I didn’t know any way to make it better. Hope you enjoy anyways!

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

04 05 06

It takes a solid 15 minutes before Taehyung has completely calmed down. All this time I’ve been holding him close, waiting for his sobs to die down. Despite Taehyung visibly relaxing more as time went by, his ears still lay somewhat flat atop his head.

“Feeling better?” There is no response for a while, but I know he heard me. Eventually he nods, just a tiny tilt of his head, but a nod nonetheless. He makes no move to sit up though, still leaning against my frame. If it wasn’t for him sniffing now and then, I would’ve thought he fell asleep.

So long he doesn’t want me to go I won’t. Thus I keep holding him, expecting him to push me away on his own when he doesn’t need my embrace anymore. I don’t mind holding him like this, I just want the bad memories to be forgotten about. Best case scenario would be his past disappearing from existing. Though, sadly, this is no fairy tale.

Not everything will be okay in the end. The damage his heart and mind sustained will never be fully repaired. All I can do is glue the remaining pieces back together, searching for the lost bits as I go. Some may be lost forever, stomped into the ground, buried by layers of dead leaves and decomposing insects. Then I’ll make sure he creates his own, new pieces to replace the ones missing. He doesn’t need whatever other trampled over.

“Lee Ji-hyun.” It’s a soft whisper. If the room hadn’t been dead silent as it was, I would’ve missed it. I don’t respond, letting him talk as he wants. Giving him space to open up and expose himself.

“My owner, Lee Ji-hyun.” His voice contains a bit more confidence this time. I can’t say I’m not surprised at his words, I didn’t think I was going to get a name today after all. The movement of my hand rubbing his back stills for a second, resuming just as fast. It was only for a second, yet he must’ve still noticed it, as he gives me a sad chuckle.

“I was never the pet he wanted. I wasn’t like the brutal animals he heard about on tv. I’m not like the first tiger hybrid who killed his owner trying to escape.” He takes in a deep breath, almost like he’s trying to keep his hatred for the man that hurt him in check. Or maybe he’s on the verge of breaking down again.

“I don’t want to fight underground for illegally obtained money. I don’t want to walk two blocks to threaten your drug dealer for free cocaine. I don’t want to sleep with others just so you can throw money at the strippers you care so little about.” If he was truly trying to keep his hatred at bay, it failed. Years of bottled up anger spilling out, breaking the dam he built high himself.

“And if I refused I’d get hit, stomped on, tased, or if I was lucky I wouldn’t get food instead. I should’ve wanted to harm him. Why was he never scared he would be the receiver of my anger?” Taehyung’s hands tighten around my arms, trying to find a way to hold on to the strong front he has been putting up all this time. His voice has drastically raised in volume since he first started talking, close to shouting out all the words he kept to himself.

“He wanted to see me struggle against my chains, trying to rip him to shreds, growling with my eyes blown out. He would’ve laughed in my face as I try to kill him with my own bare hands, purposefully getting the whip out, making me so scared I’d lose all of my humanity.”

All of a sudden he sits up in my hold, not slipping away from my arms, but also not snuggling into me as much anymore. Once again I should’ve been scared of him, ripping myself away from him and running out the door to safety. I don’t. His irises show the well-known gold colour of the predator’s eyes, his canines having grown longer in size. On the edge of shifting, but all I can see is the broken boy inside. The one that just wants to get away.

“I couldn’t do it at the time. I laid still on the ground as the leather came down again and again. It hurt so much and I still didn’t try to attack him.” His eyes are full of unshed tears. Did he mean to tell me this? Did he finally have enough? Perhaps this was all a mistake, led by emotions he was never able to reveal. Whatever it is, he doesn’t stop. Sometimes silence is suffocating, uncertainty hanging in the air as the other does not respond. However, now my silence is encouraging him, filling the quietness with his rants.

“Despite having always been taught to be a pleasing puppet, I started disobeying him more and more.” This particular memory was still fresh, it hurt more than the others. His eyes cast downwards for a second, swallowing a lump in his throat, before finding mine again. I think he was debating on whether to continue. Do I look shocked? Indifferent? Sad?

I’ve heard confessions of crimes for years, probably seen ten times more emotional outbursts than most humans. I’ve learned not to get affected by them, only looking at the facts presented in the story being told. I have played the role of a supportive law enforcement worker more times than I can count, slowly manipulating the answer out of those who belong behind bars. Though I would never use that tactic on traumatized witnesses.

This time should be no different, but it is. I wonder if it’s because I’ve had more time to connect to him. Getting to know the person underneath all the insecurities. Possibly it could be the way hybrids have been tortured for years and now they can finally break free. Humans sympathize, I’m no different.

“He didn’t have the money for basic human necessities anymore as I was his only source of income at that point. He was the self-proclaimed kind of gambling, yet he lost the mountain of money he had to that exact same game.” Stopping myself from sinking further into my pity for him, I start connecting the strings while he talks. A gambling addict bought an expensive hybrid who didn’t do as he liked, so he sold him. Or at least tried to, but killed the client for whatever reason.

“One day he called up this hybrid auction place. After hearing he had a tiger hybrid the owner himself offered a ton of money.” Taehyung’s hands start to shake. A picture starts to form itself in my head, pieces falling together. I know what’s coming, but I don’t want to hear it. As soon as I do so my suspension will be confirmed, no room for doubt. As long as he doesn’t tell me, I can still pretend it never happened.

“He wanted to meet up with us. Somewhere where there would be no traces of hybrid dealing left behind, as it is obviously illegal. You should know.” I slowly nod at his words, I do know. “We met up at The Pink Collar, the club you…” He trails off, the confidence in his voice gone when he mentions the sex club.

After the incident, the police shut the business down. Not only was the club completely illegal, having no licences whatsoever, it just so happened that a lot of illegal dealings went on inside it as well. It was a popular meeting place for those who wanted some dirty money. If mister Lee really is a gambling addict, he most likely went there more than once.

“David, I think my owner called him, ended up bringing a lot less money than he initially offered. My owner got mad and…. Well, stabbed him.” The last part gets said a lot quieter than the rest of the sentence. A tear rolls down Taehyung’s cheek as he recalls the moment. Something in me stirs. I haven’t talked the entire time. Now that everything is falling into place though, I need to know the full story.

“What about the girl?” My voice is soft, I don’t want to upset him more. Taehyung hesitates for a moment, before answering. “She heard everything. She was so so scared, thrashing around in her restraints and screaming as best as she could with the gag. He couldn’t leave witnesses so he.. he did the same to her.”

I want to ask more, though I’m not sure if I should. I’m not like my supervisor who forces answers out. I’m diving into dangerous territory here.

As if he can read my mind, Taehyung nods, giving me a small smile. “It’s okay, ask me.” He wipes his eyes dry and nods once again, encouraging me to continue.

“What about you? Why did you do?” I didn’t mean to sound accusing. Luckily, Taehyung doesn’t really catch on to the underlying question, answering before I can explain myself.

“Barely anything. When I did as much as try to get out my restraints he threatened to kill me too.” So he was tied up at the time too? I think back to the day I found him. He looks better now than he did before, although he still has a long way to go. I can imagine there was not much he could do, weak and terrified.

“And right after that you two left right?” Taehyung sits up completely now, letting my arms go and propping himself up against the wall. A few deep breaths and his eyes return to their normal brown colour, going back to looking exhausted rather than angry. “Yeah.”

If that’s all then why was Taehyung drenched in blood that day? Why was he alone at that playground? Thinking for a moment, I try to find the answer to it myself first, but nothing clicks. Taehyung tilts his head, silently questioning what caused the confusion displayed on my face.

“What happened after that?”

His head drops, hands clenching and unclenching against the fabric of his pants. “He took the money from David and left with me. Somewhere along our way back I had enough, I-” Scared that he’ll break through his own skin if he keeps his fists tightly closed, I am quick to put my hands on top of his. They don’t open up, but at least they relax a little. Hybrids are known to shift when in emotional distress. If his claws were to come out in this position then he-

“I jumped him from behind. Sunk my nails into his back and broke my leash in the process.” -he might scratch himself. It wasn’t him who got hurt at the time, but he who hurt. I’ve never believed in revenge being the answer, but Lee had that one coming. He was the one who wanted to create a rage filled tiger in the first place, well there he goes, wish fulfilled.

“Then you ran off?” Taehyung nods, pulling his hands away from under mine so he can wrap his arms around himself. His tail joins in the party, snugly held against his waist. This time it’s his ears that remain in their neutral position, listening to anything else I have to say.

“Will I get punished now?” The way he says it, is like he’s trying to sound unaffected, but in reality the idea scares him. For years that’s all he’s known, punishment after punishment. I want to be able to reassure him, to say that it’s all fine, but there is always the possibility of things not being fine. What will I do when that happens? Feel guilty, helpless?

So I tell him the truth. “If we can confirm that he really did abuse you with either a confession from your owner, verbal evidence of other witnesses, or stuff inside his home, you’ll most likely be fine. It depends on if the judge agrees with hybrid laws a lot of the time, though I’ll take care of that.” Just with a softer edge. I gave him the harsh reality wrapped in a pink fluffy blanket.

“You won’t be fired now right?”

I completely forgot about that. When my supervisor lashed out at me I had accepted her words, not thinking about the consequences a whole lot. “Well yeah, I guess not.”

I wonder if he was scared that I would get fired, if that’s the reason why he opened up. Selfishly, I want to believe that he told me because he trusts me more. Greedy, I am aware. No one has to know though, I won’t tell.

“C’mon, let’s get you back.” I stand, stretching out when I’m fully up. I regret not paying any attention to the position we were in, as my back is heavily complaining now that I’m back on my feet. Letting out a groan of satisfaction, I open my eyes, of which I didn’t know that I had them closed, and move to give Taehyung a hand. When I look at the ground however, he is no longer there. Instead, he already passed me on his way to the door, looking back to see if I was following. I smile sheepishly and take a quick few steps towards the door.

Remembering nothing can be left behind, I look around the room. Two chairs and a table, that’s it. Grey brick walls nobody wanted to paint line the sides, with a huge one way mirror at one side. All you can see is yourself and whoever came with you. Trapped, stuck with a grimacing police officer who doesn’t want to be there either. Thinking about it, this place is almost scarier than prison itself.

Looking closer at the table, I notice a blinking light. A small rectangular device being the only thing on the table, filling the palm of my hand nicely. Something my supervisor must have forgotten in her haste to get out of here, an audio recorder, still left recording.

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @daisychwe @deathkat657

[bi-naesala]

Found you (chapter 1)

Bad Batch arc retelling (sort of) | Fives lives AU

Also on AO3

It’s still weird for Fives to be considered a war hero. Sure, he uncovered a deep conspiracy that would’ve resulted in the fall of the Republic, but going from “that di’kut Fives” to “hero of the Republic Fives” is a huge step.

What’s most weird is the amount of attention he’s getting now, and he means the positive kind of attention. That’s not even the weirdest part actually; what really bothers Fives is how tired he is of it already. It may be weird coming from Mr. Attention Whore himself, but that’s how he feels. He just doesn’t like the idea that he’s somehow more important that the rest of the vode.

 Maybe that’s why he’s relieved when action calls again.

The Chancellor might’ve been found guilty of being a Sith Lord and Dooku might’ve been apprehended, but there are still some Separatist cells fighting. There aren’t many left, but this doesn’t mean that they have to act less cautious.

Here’s the weird thing: for some reason, they seem to be fighting better now. Might be desperation, but their tactics have changed; they’re more efficient, almost as if they could predict what the Republic’s next step will be. This either means that there’s a spy in their ranks or, more likely, that they have found some source of intel.

 It’s Rex the one who approaches Fives first. They’ve been dancing around this theory for a while, but neither of them have had the courage to openly speak about it, at least until now. It’s far-fetched at best, but the evidence is there; besides, they’d both be lying if they said they don’t want it to be true - especially Fives.

“I think Echo’s alive.”

Here it is, what both of them have been thinking for a while. Rex’s voice is hesitant, and Fives can’t decide if it’s because he fears he won’t listen to him or - more likely - that he isn’t sure himself on how true this statement is.

“I think so too,” he quickly replies then, “You two have been working on most of these plans, and now somehow the Seppies can anticipate our moves. It can’t be a coincidence.” It would be too convenient.

It may sound unlikely, but let’s not forget who orchestrated all this. If the Supreme Chancellor himself can be guilty of being a Sith Lord, then it’s possible that what remains of the Separatists are using Echo for their strategies.

As Fives and Rex exchange a look, however, they understand what the most difficult part of this will be: making the others believe them.

 The first people to be informed are General Skywalker and Cody.

Skywalker is still recovering from the discovery of the Chancellor’s true nature - they were pretty close after all, and damn now that they know the whole story, isn’t that creepy? - but he listens to their thesis with an open mind, even if it’s clear he doesn’t entirely believe it. He knows about loss and he understands why they would want to believe that, but still…

“Sometimes people just die. No matter how much you want to, you can’t bring the dead back,” he begins, thinking about all the people he has failed to protect, and it’s exactly because he understands that he continues, “But if you think that it’s worth it, we can investigate.”

Relief surges through both the clones.

“Yessir!”

 Differently from Anakin, Cody goes full skeptic immediately.

“We can’t jeopardize everything just for this.”

Fives greets his teeth. How dares he speak like that about a brother? After all they’ve been fighting for he just wants to leave one of them behind?

“You can’t talk like that!” he begins, moving towards Cody with ill intent, something that Rex picks up, so he immediately grabs his arm to stop him before he does something he will regret.

“Fives, not now!”

Cody looks at them and he sighs. He understands, he truly does, but they still have to draw a line, or else this will blow up out of proportions.

“It’s not that I…” he begins defensively, but he stops himself. There’s no point in answering aggression with aggression; they’re all tired - even in its last stages the war is taking a toll on them - and doing so would help nobody. “I know it’s hard being the one who survives. It’s a burden that no regular folk can understand.” He looks at Fives. “But we can’t let this affect the wellbeing of who remains.”

At those words, Fives deflates a bit, even though it’s obvious in his eyes that he hasn’t accepted the situation yet, and honestly Cody can’t blame him. If anything happened to Rex or any of his batch mates - even Fox - he would find himself in a very similar state.

“Even if we try to do something about it, how many brothers will die for something that we’re not even sure about?”

His words are harsh, but they need to be. The sacrifice of more troopers is something they cannot afford.

 Silence falls between the three, each one lost in their own thoughts.

Unexpectedly, it’s Cody the one who breaks it. His mind works constantly, and he may have found an idea to solve this problem without losing too many lives. Besides, he simply is unable to say no to Rex.

“If you truly think that this is key to understand why the Separatists are on a winning streak, then I suppose we could send a small team to investigate it.”

“A small team?” Rex asks, careful in his enthusiasm. Cody may have given in but that doesn’t mean they’re done.

“Yes, a small team,” Cody replies, and it’s obvious that he has something in mind already, and when Rex asks him, he just smiles, “You’ll see. I need to make a call.”

  Clone Force 99. Nobody in Torrent Company has heard of this name.

“99, eh? Nice touch,” Rex comments, smiling sadly as he remembers his fallen vod. It’s nice seeing that someone has found a way to honor him. Fives is smiling too.

“Oh, I knew him well,” he begins, “He was the only one who believed in my cadet squad… I can’t believe it’s been so long already.” It feels like centuries have passed since 99’s death. He wonders what he would think about him; would he be proud? He’d say that he did his best, that he’s done so much good, but he still let so many vode die without being able to do anything about it. Maybe, however, he can at least save one of the people he thought he’d lost.

“Oh right, you were underdogs before coming here!” Jesse exclaims, recalling the few stories he and Echo told, “You never told us much about your Kamino days, vod.”

Fives chuckles, lightly shoving his brother - who has begun leaning closer to him - with one shoulder, colliding with Jesse’s ARC trooper armor - yeah, the di’kut really managed to get promoted.

“That’s because you were only looking for blackmail material!” he chuckles.

 The truth is that he and Echo have always been a bit jealous of their shared past. They didn’t do it with malice, but it was something that tied them to each other, something special that only them shared. Remembering all the early Domino squad shenanigans was always a special occurrence for them. Even after Echo’s death - but he’s not dead, Fives knows it - he never felt like sharing that part of his past; it didn’t feel right without his brother.

 “Getting back to the original topic,” Kix interrupts, “I’ve heard some things about this Clone Force 99.”

Trust Kix to do some digging before getting briefed on anything. That’s actually reassuring, at least they won’t walk in whatever Cody has planned blind.

“So?” Fives encouraged him, “What have you heard?”

“They have a 100% success rate, so they’ve got that going for them,” Kix begins, though he doesn’t look that happy about it as he should be.

“There’s a ‘but’ in here, isn’t it?”

“Well, the thing is… I haven’t found much except for that,” Kix reveals, “Even their existence is barely known!”

“Who’s their general?” Fives asks, curious and suspicious at the same time. He’s learned to be wary of secretive stuff; they usually never bode well.

“I don’t know,” Kix replies, “I don’t think they have one.”

Fives moves his gaze to Rex. What has Cody gotten them into this time? His Captain, on the other end, just shrugs.

“This means we’ll just have to find out information when we’ll meet them.”

“It doesn’t worry you that they seemingly work alone?” Jesse asks.

“They must have their reasons…” is what Rex replies with, making it clear that this is the end of the conversation, “You should get prepared, now. We’ll be departing shortly.”

“Sir yes sir!”

  They meet up with Cody shortly after that.

“So, Clone Force 99, eh?” Rex asks, making Cody smirk.

“I see you already did your homework,” he comments.

“Blame Kix.” That earns a chuckle from both of them, before Rex continues, “How come nobody knows nothing about them?”

“They’re defective clones with desirable mutations. They call themselves ‘The Bad Batch’.” Huh, that doesn’t exactly spark confidence, but if Cody trusts them, then they must be worth it.

 An aircraft lands - and Fives swears, the pilot must be worse the Skywalker because it’s a messy landing at best - and the main door opens.

There’s the sound of steps and four clones in full armor step outside to meet with them. They haven’t shown their faces yet but they already look different - it must be their demeanour. One of them is particularly huge - just what the hell did they feed him on Kamino?

Fives straightens his posture, watching in silence. So this is Clone Force 99.

  That’s official, Fives hates these dudes.

Well, not really, or at least, not all of them. Hunter seems cool and badass - not as much as their captain of course - Wrecker is a force of nature, Tech seems chill… Yeah, the only one he actually fully hates is Crosshair. He doesn’t like people who act like they’re better than everybody else, and Crosshair surely seems to believe that he is; besides, there’s so much venom in the way he calls them regs that doesn’t sit well with Fives at all.

A peek at Jesse and Kix makes it pretty evident that he isn’t the only perplexed one. Jesse shoots at him and annoyed glance, while Kix just shrugs, already resigned to the incoming headache that this mission will cause him. Fives tries to reassure them with a smile, even though he must not be doing a great job.

Oh come on! How bad can it be?

  Aaaand they lost the Marshal Commander already. Maybe Fives should’ve just shut his mouth.

At least Kix will stay with him until aid arrives, which also means that they’ve lost the medic already. They’ll have to be very careful.

 Still, did those other shebs really have to show off like that? They could’ve easily handled the droids coming at them without them having to try so hard to be cool!

Not that Fives doesn’t appreciate some help - if it keeps them alive a bit more, why shouldn’t he? - but he doesn’t want to give them more excuses to gloat, especially since their main target seems to be the captain, which is not ok.

What makes him more annoyed is that, deep down, he admires these dudes. They seem to have a plan for everything. He wonders how they would fair with General Skywalker and his “screw plans” policy. Who knows, maybe he’d manage to throw them off the loop.

At least he can admit that they’re competent, though he refuses to say it out loud. He doesn’t want to verbally harass them like Kix and Jesse are doing, but he also won’t do anything to defend them. They might be competent and all, but they’re still asshole.

 “You can’t talk to Captain Rex like that!”

Damn, Fives gets distracted for one second, one kriffing second, and hell breaks loose.  Of course, it’s Crosshair’s and his bitch mouth’s fault.

Jesse’s so close to hit him, but Wrecker’s on him in an instant, picking him up from the ground. Now, if it was just a simple discussion, Fives would’ve let it go - he would’ve bitched about it internally but he would’ve let it go. This, this is different; if that’s a fight what they want, they will have a fight.

He bolts up, followed by Kix, whose intentions seem more towards stopping the fight than to take part in it, but Fives is having none of this. Insults and mocking are one thing, touching a brother is another.

“Let him down!” he yells stepping towards Wrecker. He barely registers Kix beings pushed by Crosshair, and if he dares to try the same thing on him he swears, he’ll snap him like the twig he is.

He may not have their “desirable mutations” but he can still kick their asses if he wants to, and look what a coincidence, he really does right now.

 It takes Hunter to defuse the situation before it ends up in a scuffle. Damn, they’re acting like a bunch of shinies.

There’s still the mission to focus on, and Fives tries to keep his composure, ignoring the Bad Batch altogether.

As they prepare to leave he goes to check in on Kix, kneeled beside Cody. He’s applying some bacta on his wound.

“I don’t have much, but it’s better than nothing,” the medic mutters, clearly not happy about the situation. If they lose the kriffing Marshall Commander, it’ll be bad. At least help is on its way, so hopefully they won’t have to wait for too long; all Kix has to do is to make sure that he stays alive until they arrive.

“You sure you can hold up?” Fives asks.

“You’re the ones going into danger, not me.”

“Careful Kix, I might start thinking you’re jealous that we’re getting some action, unlike you.”

“Kriff off!” Kix goes to give Fives a light punch on his knee, but as the smile on his lips suggest, it’s a light-hearted gesture. It’s nice being able to tease each other like this again; there was too much tension before.

They both chuckle, but then Kix gets serious again.

“And tell Jesse not to do anything too stupid,” he warns Fives, who rolls his eyes at those words, even though he’s still smiling.

“Tell him yourself,” he replies, not because he won’t tell, but just because he wants to be a little shit.

“I already did, but knowing him he needs a reminder.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.”

“As if he doesn’t know already what I think of him,” Kix huffs, only to look at Fives as he adds, “Please, be careful.”

“We will, Kix, I promise. We didn’t come this close to ending the war just to die.”

 Fives takes a moment to himself to focus, but judging by the heavy steps coming towards him, he will be joined by Jesse soon. He was never good at stealth and ARC training sure didn’t help with that.

“You ready?” his brother asks once he’s in hearing range. Fives turns towards him.

“Yeah I am.” At first it seems the end of the conversation, then Fives remembers what Kix asked him to do, “Kix wants to remind you not to do anything too stupid. Weird that he said ‘too stupid’ and not just ‘stupid’, almost like he knew already that you’re going to do something dumb anyway.”

“Ah ah,” Jesse says, mocking a laugh, face completely unimpressed, “When did you become such a killjoy? Last time I checked you were all for crazy battle tactics.”

“It’s not that I don’t like them anymore, but…”

But he almost died. Sure, he’s risked his life countless times in this war, but this last time really did a number of him, and that’s only scratching the surface of what’s going on in Fives’ head. Now that he’s so close to see finally the results of not only his efforts, but the vode’s as well, he doesn’t want to kick the bucket; he doesn’t want to be just another casualty to add to the list.

There’s also Echo’s deal. If he’s truly alive and out there, Fives wants to find him. Someone will have to take care of him, and that someone is going to be him; he owes him that after leaving him for dead at the Citadel. He promised himself that he won’t die before reaching him, even at the cost of foregoing his usual battle tactics.

He should say something, trying to explain himself, but as Jesse gently rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, he understands that he doesn’t need to. In the end he had revealed to him and Kix too about his and Rex’s theory about Echo; needless to say that they’ve been enthusiastic at the prospect of having their brother back.

“I know, vod. I was just teasing you,” Jesse says, “And I solemnly swear that I won’t commit any reckless act… At least unless the situation really calls for it.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fives smirks, “And now let’s show these shebs how Torrent does things.”

“Yessir!”

  It went better than expected. By diving their forces they’ve managed to distract the guards enough to infiltrate the command center. Hell, they even managed to get a getaway shuttle - Fives supposes that even Crosshair serves a purpose after all.

Still, Rex has been weirdly closed off since their departure, something that doesn’t sit well with Fives, who approaches him, wanting to know how his captain is fairing.

“Something wrong?”

“I heard his voice,” Rex says, turning to him, “Fives, I heard him back there. I asked who we were speaking to and I heard him.”

So this means…

“Echo’s alive. It’s all true.”

 It takes Fives a moment to process Rex’s words, and when he does he feels dizzy. So it’s all true; what was once just a mere hope has become the truth.

Echo’s alive and Rex managed to contact him. This means that he’s in Separatists’ hands. He can’t help but to wonder what they have done to him, if he’s fine, if he’s safe, even though he knows that this kind of pointless worry will only make things worse for him.

Still, now that he knows he’s truly alive, he’ll do everything he can to rescue him. He owes him that much.

“I suppose this means the mission is far from over, captain.”

Rex nods. “It only just begun.”

[ambereyesandwine]

We’ve Got Soul: Chapter 6

WC: 3034

Warnings: Cursing, Leo is a fuck, Character death, Violence (nothing major shown), Blood (2 kinds), Angst, Continued references to pop culture that is already considered “outdated” but I don’t care  

Beta’d By: @teaspacebar

Notes: With this chapter, we have started into game content! There will be some places where Fantasia’s story directly intersects with pieces and scenes from the game, but for the most part, Fantasia’s story will continue to be her own. In the places where they do overlap, obviously some things will be altered slightly so as to fit Fantasia into those conversations, but I will be staying mostly true to source content in these areas. Anyway, here it is, have fun :)

Chapter 6:

November 5, 2038

10:11 A.M.

           Fantasia let herself in, as was now the norm, and crossed the entryway of her mentor’s home. She heard the piano being played in the sitting room and went in to find Markus was playing, while Carl sat quietly listening. A smile spread across Fantasia’s face as she hung in the doorway and listened to the intimate tune.

           “Something has changed in the way you play. Sometimes I think you have more humanity than most humans.” Carl’s tone was sincere and warm as he spoke to Markus. “One day, I won’t be here to take care of you anymore. You’ll have to protect yourself… and make your choices… Decide who you are, and wanna become.” Carl took note of Fantasia’s presence with a small smile and nod before continuing his thoughts for Markus. “This world doesn’t like those who are different, Markus. Don’t let anyone tell you who you should be.” Carl did not wait for a response before abruptly switching to a new train of thought. “Let’s go to the studio,” He said as he motioned for Fantasia to follow.

           The trio made their way quietly into the studio and Markus made quick work of connecting Carl’s chair to his painting lift.

           “Let’s see where I left off. Remove the sheet.”

           Carl’s request was simple and Markus promptly followed the instruction. Fantasia and Markus stood back and watched as Carl swept his brushes across the enormous hanging canvas.

           Fantasia leaned slightly closer to Markus and spoke softly so as not to disturb her mentor. “He’s right, you know.”

           “Hmm?” Markus hummed in question.

           “I heard you playing the piano earlier, and what Carl said to you, and you do have more humanity than most people do, but it’s not just when you play.” She looked to him and found him staring back at her with confusion covering his face. “Markus, you’re kind, and thoughtful, and you have so much good in you.” The smile she gave him was genuine and sweet. “You could change the world if you wanted to.”

           The only reply Markus had time to give was a smile that pulled at one side of his mouth before Carl began to lower himself from the lift.

           “So, do we have a verdict?” The man asked as he sat himself back into his wheelchair.

           Markus turned from Fantasia to the painting and looked over it before responding, “Yes, there is something about it. Something I can’t quite define.” He thought carefully for another moment and said, “I guess I like it”

           Carl huffed. ��The truth is, I have nothing to say anymore… Each day that goes by brings me closer to the end… I’m just an old man clinging to his brushes.”

           Fantasia’s expression turned dejected. “Carl, that’s not-”

           “But enough about me,” The man interrupted, “Let’s see if you have any talent, Markus. Give it a try, try painting something.”

           “Paint? But what I- painting what?” He stumbled through the words.

           “Anything you want! Give it a try.” Carl said as he handed Markus a palette and brush.

           Markus looked around for a moment and began to paint, producing a dead-on picture of Carl’s supply desk.

           Carl shook his head. “That is a perfect copy of reality. But painting is not about replicating the world, it’s about interpreting it, improving on it. Showing something you see.”

           “Carl I don’t think I can do that. It’s not in my program… I…”

           “Go on, go, try, grab that canvas.”

           Fantasia handed Markus a new canvas and watched as Carl coached him through creating a painting all his own.

           “Do something for me,” Carl said, “Close your eyes. Trust me.” He waited for Markus to do as he asked before he continued, “Try to imagine something that doesn’t exist, something you’ve never seen. Now, concentrate on how it makes you feel, and let your hand drift across the canvas.”

           Markus pulled the brush back and forth across the canvas and moved like he’d let something else entirely take over him. When he backed up, Fantasia gasped.

           “Oh my God.” Carl seemed just as lost for words.

           The three stared at the canvas, now covered in reds and oranges that formed a portrait of Markus. The expression he’d painted was somber, but the image was distorted, like it was meant to show confusion or doubt.

           “Hey dad.” The silence was broken by Leo’s voice, shaking as he called across the studio.

           “Leo,” Carl addressed as he approached his son slowly, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

           Leo smiled, but something about it made the hair on the back of Fantasia’s neck stand up. “Oh, I was in the neighborhood; thought I’d stop by,” He said it non-chalantly like these visits were normal. “It’s been a while, right?”

           Carl’s concern was evident on his face. “Are you alright? You don’t look so good.”

           “Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Hey listen, uh… I need some cash, Dad.”

           Fantasia huffed and rolled her eyes in annoyance but stayed otherwise silent, knowing it wasn’t her place to interject in the discussion.

           “Again? What happened to the money I just gave you?”

           “Uh, well, it just goes, you know?”

           “Yeah…” Carl trailed off, coming to a realization he’d hoped to avoid. “Yeah, you’re on it again, aren’t you?”

           “No, no, no, I swear it’s not that.” Leo quickly attempted to defend himself.

           “Don’t lie to me Leo.”

           “What difference does it make?” The younger man’s irritation seemed to explode. “I just need some cash, that’s all!”

           Carl’s voice was laced with sorrow and disappointment when he responded, “Sorry… The answers no.”

           “What? Why?”

           “You know why.”

           Leo looked over to where Markus and Fantasia were standing, resentment covering his features. “Yeah, yeah… I think I do know why.” He released a short and dark chuckle as he continued, “You’d rather play house with your plastic toy and orphan barbie than take care of your own son, eh? Tell me dad, what do they have that I don’t?” Leo walked toward the pair and took it as a challenge when they didn’t back away, “What? Cause she’s more artsy than I am?” He pointed toward Fantasia as he stared his father down before he moved to Markus. “Is it that this one’s smarter? More obedient? Not like me, right?” Markus held his ground as Leo got in his face and continued ranting. “But you know what? This thing is not your son. IT’S A FUCKING MACHINE!” Leo yelled as he shoved Markus.

           Fantasia was quick to help Markus catch himself, wrapping a hand around his forearm to pull him upright and help steady him as Carl yelled, “Leo, that’s enough!”

           “Are you okay?” Fantasia’s words were rushed and quiet, meant only for Markus, and he nodded slightly in reply.

           “Enough.” Carl repeated weakly.

           Leo began to shake his head in resignation. “You don’t care about anything except yourself and your goddamned paintings. You’ve never loved anyone, you’ve never loved me, Dad,” He said as he turned toward the door. “You never loved me.”

           Carl sighed heavily and pulled a hand up to his forehead as soon as the door closed behind Leo. “Markus, are you alright?” He almost whispered the question, but the android heard it nonetheless.

           “I’m fine, Carl. Are you okay?”

           “Yes, but I’m done in the studio for today, and I’d like to lay down before we have to leave for our event this evening.” He sounded worn and out of breath.

           “Of course, Carl,” Markus responded as he began to move, only to realize Fantasia still had a hold on his arm. He stopped and looked down at her hand and then to her eyes before she noticed the extended contact and immediately pulled her hand away.

           “Sorry,” She mumbled as she turned away to hide the red tint spreading over her cheeks. “I can get things together in here while you take him upstairs, if you’d like.”

           “That’d be great.” Carl called to her before Markus had a chance to respond.

           “Great,” She said, all too eager to have something else on her mind. Fantasia began to clean the studio and was relieved to hear the door close, telling her she was alone. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and felt herself relax a little. “All good, let’s just finish cleaning and pretend nothing happened.” She spoke to herself as she tidied the room. When she finished, Fantasia exited the room and was greeted by the smell of strong coffee. She hummed as she walked toward the kitchen. “You made coffee?” She questioned happily when she saw Markus pouring from the pot.

           “I figured you’d want some.” He said as he handed her the mug with a smile. “While we wait for Carl, would you like to keep working on the song I was teaching you to play?”

           “Absolutely.” Fantasia smiled over the lip of the ceramic cup and followed Markus back into the sitting room toward the piano.

November 5, 2038

9:41 P.M.

           The car pulled slowly into the driveway of the Manfred household, and Fantasia thanked the driver as Markus helped Carl get out of the vehicle.

           “Thank you so much, have a good rest of your night.” She waived to the man as she closed her door and walked around to the other side. “Do we have everything?” She asked openly.

           “The only thing you had to bring home was me,” Carl stated shortly.

           Markus chuckled, “You can be very hard to keep track of.”

           Fantasia couldn’t help but giggle slightly.

           “Funny.” Carl rolled his eyes fondly at Markus’s comment. “I think it’s time for a drink.”

           “Actually,” Fantasia started, “I think I’m going to turn in for the night.”

           “Already?” Carl asked.

           She smiled, “It’s been a long day of keeping track of the two of you. I’m tired.”

           “Fine, be a party pooper. Markus and I will just go in and have a drink ourselves.” Carl began to wheel himself toward the front door.

           “Have a good night, Fantasia.” Markus smiled and nodded at her.

           She shook her head good-naturedly. Fantasia had reminded Markus on the regular that he was welcome to call her ‘Tasia,’ but he had never made the switch. “Good night, Markus.”

           Fantasia walked down Carl’s driveway and up her own, ready to turn in for the evening. After she had taken her makeup off and pulled her hair up, not bothering to brush the hair sprayed curls out, Fantasia was getting changed into pajamas when she heard sirens outside. She walked outside cautiously to see what was happening, only to find two police cars parked in front of Carl’s house, and Chris Miller standing outside.

           “Chris, what’s going on?” She approached the officer with confusion.

           “Fantasia?” He was surprised to see her, “You live here?”

           “No, I live next door. This is Carl’s house, what’s going on?”

           “We got a call about a possible break in, but-”

           There was a gunshot from inside.

           “Shit.” Chris muttered the word and immediately radioed for backup. He saw Fantasia start to walk toward the house and caught her by the arm. “You can’t go in there.”

           “What if they’re hurt?”

           “That’s what we’re here for, you stay here.”

           Fantasia’s worry was evident on her face, but she stayed focused on Chris’s words until she saw movement out of the corner of her eye a few moments later. It was two police officers carrying an unmoving person down the walkway from the door.

“Markus?” Fantasia questioned softly. She looked down to see that he was not walking, but being dragged, and was covered in thirium. “Markus?” It was more urgent this time. She still received no response of acknowledgement from him and her thoughts and voice became frantic. “Markus!” Fear welled in her chest and she called his name again before they put him in the back of a police car.

           Chris stepped in front of Fantasia, hoping to calm her, but her eyes were set beyond his form. She watched as Leo came out of the house, escorted by a police officer toward the ambulance that had arrived only moments ago. His face was covered in blood and he cradled the back of his head in pain.

           “Leo,” She seethed.

           Upon hearing his name, the man looked up, but gave no verbal recognition to the woman.

           “What did you do, Leo?”

           A cruel side-smile was all the response Fantasia received from him.

           A rage crossed over Fantasia’s face like Chris had never seen before and she lurched forward, leaving Chris with barely enough time to catch her around the middle before she pounced. “What did you do!?” She yelled to him from across the driveway. Fantasia struggled to free herself from Chris’s grip, but he held steady, fearing for what might happen if he let her go. She continued to yell at the younger Manfred, her anger only growing with the man’s refusal to acknowledge her. Fantasia’s vision tunneled so far that she failed to notice her mentor sitting solemnly on his porch, observing, or her best friend’s car screeching to a stop only a few feet from her.

           Gavin jumped from the driver’s seat and made a beeline to Fantasia, who was yet to see him.

           “Gavin,” Chris panted, “A little help?” His stamina was running out far faster than Fantasia’s and his grip was loosening.

           Gavin put himself in front of Fantasia, but her eyes were focused past him, still on the man now sitting in the open back of an ambulance. “Fantasia.” He searched her eyes and found no recognition, only anger and pain. “Tasia, hey!” She stopped moving. “Look at me.”

           Fantasia slowly met Gavin’s eyes as hers began to fill with tears.

           “Hey,” He said calmly, “Hey, you’re okay. Okay,” He directed his attention to Chris and the officer now walking up to the trio. “What happened?”

           The other officer was the one who answered, “We got a call about a possible break in and when we came to investigate, we found the household care android had attacked the Manfreds.”

           “No.” Fantasia’s voice was barely above a whisper, and the gloss began to return to her eyes.

           “We took care of it.”

           “Meaning?” Gavin questioned.

           “We shot the android, Detective. It’ll be dismantled and sent to the junkyard.”

           “Fuck,” Gavin mumbled. He didn’t need to look at Fantasia to know she’d be destroyed by this information. “Okay, I need a minute and then we can get started.” He turned to Fantasia and found what he’d expected. The look in her eyes was shattered. “Come on.” Gavin pulled Fantasia to the passenger side of his car and opened the door for her before sitting her down. “I need you to stay here while I do my job and then we’re gonna go, okay?”

           Fantasia did not reply. She felt Gavin move her legs inside the vehicle and then close the door softly, but that was all she could register. Her focus was blurred at best and her entire body felt fuzzy; she couldn’t move her fingers or toes. For a while, Fantasia stared blankly out the window of Gavin’s car, unable to see past the droplets of water racing down the glass, obscuring the images behind them. She hadn’t noticed the car moving until Gavin spoke to her again.

           “Tasia, we’re here.”

           She slowly turned her head to him.

           “Earth to Fantasia,” Gavin searched her eyes for any form of recognition. “Are you alive in there?”

           She hummed shortly and turned back toward her door. Her movements were sluggish as she pulled the handle and rose from the car. She stood quietly for a moment with her arms wrapped around her stomach for warmth.

           Gavin came around to her side of the car to collect Fantasia. “Okay, let’s-” He stopped mid-sentence when he looked down and noticed for the first time that Fantasia was not wearing shoes. “Jesus, you are absolutely helpless right now, aren’t you?” He leaned down slightly and scooped her into his arms to carry her across the rocks and up the stairs.

           Fantasia gave no reaction until he set her down at the door to unlock it. She went inside and sat down on the couch as though by muscle memory and pulled her knees up to her chest.

           “No. No,” Gavin scolded her, “You’re soaked, and you are not ruining my couch and getting hypothermia at the same time.” He disappeared to his bedroom for a moment and returned with a long sleeve shirt and a pair of sweats in his hands. “Go put these on, I’m gonna make coffee.” He waited until she left the room to make the coffee, and already had it poured into mugs by the time she sat back down on the couch. “One cup of coffee, black as night,” He said as he set one mug down on the coffee table in front of her, “And one with just a little bit of milk and sugar because I’m not a terrorist.” Fantasia’s lack of reaction told Gavin that she was still in shock, which meant she needed more than Sarcastic-Asshole-Gavin from him. “Okay, why don’t I put on that old movie you like? That Disney cartoon about that city…” He thought for a moment before the name came to him. “Atlantis, right?”

           She made a small, dazed, noise of approval, which Gavin took as all the go-ahead he’d get. He put on the movie and watched it with Fantasia next to him on the couch, neither of them making a sound. When the movie ended, Gavin looked over to find Fantasia asleep, curled as far into the corner of the couch as she could get. She hadn’t touched her coffee. Gavin only nodded slightly to himself and stood up, gracefully taking Fantasia in his arms to put her to bed. He tucked her neatly into his bed before grabbing a pillow and blanket for himself. Fantasia made no move that suggested she’d be waking up anytime soon, so Gavin quietly put their dishes in the sink and got settled on the couch for the night.

[elisaphoenix13]

Against All Odds (Ch.9)

So far Christmas break was...lonely. Of course, Scott knew that Stephen and Quill couldn't stay with him the entire time, they had their own families to spend time with. They had traditions to enjoy. Maybe even vacations to go on...and in a few days, a Christmas dinner to enjoy.

Scott's stomach grumbles at the thought of food and he sighs as he pulls his knees closer to his chest and ignores his grumbling stomach. The break wasn't just lonely, it was cold and it sucked. Another freak storm came in and had his windows rattling from the force of the wind, and it blew out the power so there was no electricity. No heater. So Scott had to build a fire in the fireplace with what little logs he had left and sit in front of it with the heaviest blanket he could find. Because the power was out, the food in the fridge went bad, and on top of all that?

His parents didn't send him any money for food.

He was on his second day of no food and was already having a hard time pulling himself away from the only source of heat he had. Scott could feel his cold coming back with a vengeance because he had been stuck taking cold showers as well. They were the fastest showers he'd ever taken since they were ice cold, but it still sunk beneath his skin. He would jump out and get dressed before rushing back down to the living room to burrow under the blanket in front of the fireplace, and curl up as tightly as possible so he could get warmed up again.

He was starting to wonder if it was worth the cold showers, but the thought of not taking one had him scrunching his nose. Scott just hoped that the power would be back on before his firewood ran out. The way the storm was raging though, he wouldn't count on it. He only had enough wood for the rest of the night, maybe the morning if he stretched out when he threw on the next piece.

He had no choice but to do that, and when the fire started to die down the next morning, Scott got more blankets from the hall closet and piled them on and around them. He didn't move after that. The wind seemed to seep in through whatever cracks it could find in the house and Scott's blanket pile, and when it did, he shivered. Sometimes violently.

Scott managed to doze off just before the last of the dying embers went out, and about a couple of hours later, he woke up groggily to the sound of knocking. He sneezes a couple of times and buries himself under his blankets as much as possible, and attempts to ignore the (frantic?) knocking on his door. Whoever it was would eventually give up and go away. Scott was in no shape to entertain any guests or any psycho that was out in this storm, and someone would have to drag him from his pile anyway.

Scott picks up the sound of a key turning in the lock and furrows his brows curiously. Who else besides his parents had keys to the house? It couldn't have been them since they wouldn't bother knocking, especially since they pretended he didn't exist for the most part, so who?

"Fuck. It's like an icebox in here." Scott hears Quill say when the front door opens.

"Scott?" Stephen calls, but the younger doesn't answer for lack of energy to do so.

Scott actually whines when one of the older boys approach him and start pulling off blankets, but then presses closer when a warm hand caresses his cheek.

"Go open the door to the car. We're taking him to my place. He's freezing."

Anything after Quill's command was a haze. Scott vaguely recalled being scooped up with one of his blankets and shivering when he felt a sudden blast of icy wind, but after that was all a blur. There was some worried conversation, more icy wind, and then suddenly...warmth. Warmth surrounded him. Blankets, a mattress, heated air...Scott finally got warm enough to comfortably fall asleep. He was still hungry, but he didn't shiver anymore and he was on a soft mattress instead of a firm, carpeted floor.

When his stomach woke him up with a hungry growl, Scott had to blink his eyes a few times so he could look around the unfamiliar room he was in. The lights were on, some music was playing on the radio that he saw on the nearby nightstand, and Quill was...well Scott wasn't sure what he was doing. He barely caught a glimpse of his boyfriend (boy, did he have to get used to calling him that) before he suddenly dropped to the floor, swearing under his breath.

"Help me out here! You're smaller!" Quill begs and Scott hears a snort.

"Reach under your bed into the unknown? No thank you. I'd rather not find out what's down there." Stephen says.

"Literally nothing. Except the stupid bottle of cold meds now!"

Well that explained where he was. He was at Quill's house. In his bed no less.

"Well take your time with that. He needs to eat before he takes any medicine anyway."

"Just when his cough was starting to get better, this bullshit storm…" Quill trails off with a grumble.

Now that they mentioned medicine, Scott was feeling a little feverish this time around. That was great. His cold really did come back and it was kicking his ass. Scott sneezes into his arm and squints his eyes when he notices the sweater he's wearing isn't his. Actually, most of the clothes he was wearing wasn't his when he lifted the comforter to look. He was drowning in them, so that only meant they were Quill's.

The house and the smell of cinnamon were a dead giveaway to that.

"Scott?" Stephen calls for his attention and the younger drops the blanket as he sits up. "How are you feeling?"

"Warmer...hungry." Scott admits with a rasp and attempts to clear his throat. "Why were you two out in the storm?"

Quill sits up and looks at him before looking up at Stephen. They look back at Scott after a few seconds and the oldest of the three rubs his eyes.

"I was in your neighborhood earlier today and noticed the power was out. I came by to check on you, and I knocked...a lot. Like for five minutes. You didn't answer so I drove to Stephen's to see if maybe you were at his place, but nope. We went back to your place and Stephen unlocked the door, and we found you in the living room. We brought you here to my place because you were freezing." Quill explains.

Scott looks at Stephen. "You have a key to my house?"

Stephen grimaces. "Once you told me your parents are always gone, I made a copy in case of an emergency. I'm sorry I didn't ask you, but I'm not sorry I did it."

"I...it's okay." Scott mumbles. "I'd probably be dead if you didn't."

"Hungry?" Quill asks.

Starving. "It's okay. Thanks for checking on me, but you shouldn't have brought me here. I'm only intruding." Scott stammers out until both Quill and Stephen give him an unimpressed look. "Wh-what?"

"I already talked to my grandpa. We told him your parents are out of town and that your power went out, and he would rather you spend Christmas break here than home alone." Quill reassures him.

Scott could only relent. He didn't want to impose, but he also didn't want to walk through the thunderstorm just to get to a freezing house. There also wasn't any food to speak of. Stephen did ask him when he ate last after Scott ate the soup Quill went and got for him voraciously, and the younger didn't answer him. Not at first. Stephen just stared him down until Scott finally told him that his parents didn't send him any money, and both of the older teens were livid.

They calmed down relatively fast since Scott was already feeling miserable, and Stephen shoved some medicine into his hand after eventually retrieving the bottle from under the bed. Stephen hung out for another couple of hours, but Quill eventually had to drive him home. When they left, Scott was left with the t.v. Quill had in his bedroom, and dozed on and off through the movie that was playing. Scott was half conscious when Quill got back from taking Stephen home, and he smiled into his pillow when the older teen griped about the storm soaking his clothes. Dresser drawers opened and closed as his boyfriend changed into dry clothes, and then Quill slipped into bed next to him before leaning over him to turn off the lamp and grab the tv remote.

Scott nodded off again while Quill flipped through the channels, and when he woke up again, the entire room was dark and Scott actually forgot where he was for a few moments. He jolts up into a sitting position and looks around the unfamiliar room, breathing heavily as he tries to get his bearings, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand gently grabs his shoulder.

"Hey. It's okay. You're at my house, in my room."

Quill's voice was familiar. It helped him anchor himself back into reality, and all his recent memories returned to him with another minute of Quill's soothing. Scott coughs into his sleeve, resisting the older teen's gentle tug, but when Quill tugs harder, the younger teen finally lays down with his back to his bedmate. He already coughed all over the guy's blankets. He didn't want to cough directly on him too.

"C'mere." Quill whispers as he slowly wraps an arm around Scott's waist.

Scott knew that Quill was just making sure he was okay with what he was doing, and since he didn't move away or protest, his boyfriend pulled him closer until Scott's back was flush with his chest. It was actually relaxing to have that body heat added to the heat he got from everything else, so after some hesitation, Scott turned so he was facing Quill. The arm around his waist moved up just enough to gently massage the back of Scott's neck, and the younger teen sighed as his muscles slowly began to relax.

Sleep came quickly for him, and Scott slept heavily until well into the next morning. Waking up to the sound of a heartbeat as well as the drone of a tv was so foreign to him that he had to put together where he was again. This time around, Scott felt safe so he took his time and even enjoyed it when he remembered he was at Quill's house. Scott was warm, comfortable, being held by someone who actually liked him, and far less lonely.

This is what it felt like to have attention. To be noticed and wanted, and a small part of Scott hated his parents for denying him this. They couldn't even unconsciously give him attention while watching tv like Quill was doing right now. The older teen was softly running his fingers up and down Scott's spine and he probably wasn't even aware he was doing it. That was when Scott realized he had attached himself to Quill's side at one point and using his shoulder as a pillow. He was so desperate for touch that his body unconsciously went searching for it when there was someone nearby willing to give it.

"Think you can manage some pancakes or eggs?" Quill rumbles.

"Dunno."

"Are you hungry?"

"Hnn."

"You're fucking adorable." The older teen laughs as he pulls his arm away. "Come on. Open those pretty eyes and go take a shower. You probably feel really gross."

Scott grunts and rolls away from Quill, and his eyes snap open when he realizes just what he meant. The younger teen felt sweaty and drenched, and with the way he glued himself to Quill's side, he probably sweat all over him too...and not in a good way. His fever must have broken sometime after his panic episode and Quill's natural body heat was likely a big help with that.

"Ugh."

"Yeah. Feeling it now huh?"

"'M sorry." Scott apologizes meekly.

"Don't say sorry for something like that. It just means you're getting better. I think me and Stephen caught the start of your cold so hopefully you'll be feeling better in a couple of days." Quill says as he gets out of bed.

"I don't have any clothes." Scott mumbles.

"Stephen managed to pack a bag for you last night when we came over. You're just wearing my stuff since it was easier to change you into."

Scott groans and gets out of bed, stumbling into the attached bathroom to start the shower, and looks over his shoulder when Quill nudges it. He accepts the towel and clothes his boyfriend hands him and sets them on the sink, creasing his brows when Quill grins at him.

"Need any help?"

Scott blushes bright red and starts shoving Quill out of the bathroom. "No. Get out."

"I'm kidding. Don't lock the door though, just in case you really do need help." The older teen says seriously.

Scott nods in acknowledgement before he closes the bathroom door, and only then does he let himself smile. He was feeling under the weather, and even after sweating and coughing all over Quill and his bed, he was still concerned about Scott. He wanted to be able to get to him in case Scott slipped and fell, and it had the younger teen a little giddy to be cared for like that.

Was this what it was like to be loved? If so, he wanted more. More of being held at night and even waking up to it, of others concern for his health, more gentle caresses…

He wanted to be taken care of.

[things-we-used-tc-share]

The Flower Prince

Warnings: Age-gap relationships: Patton is an immortal

Ship: Logicality

Plot: Logan’s garden had never really taken to growing flowers before, so it comes as a surprise when he wakes up to it teeming with life. 

There are three things in life that Logan is completely sure of: The first is that logic is always sound, the second is that nothing is better than a good cup of coffee, the third is that a garden of flowers does not grow overnight. And yet, as he blinks in exhaustion at the sight, two of those things are not quite feeling so sure.

He makes himself a cup of coffee to affirm that at least one of these things. 

The ebony haired man sits on his doorstep, staring at what had initially been a quite barren wasteland of a garden, he wasn’t even sure the soil could sustain any form of life. Bringing the cup of coffee too his lips, he takes into account the variety of flowers, flowers that shouldn’t even be able to sustain themselves in this climate and leans his head against the door. 

Logan Sanders was sure of at least one thing right now, two if you count the coffee, he was very confused. This was not logical at all, this was so far outside of his logical explanations for everything that he’d deem it surreal, should his head stop hurting and the cognitive dysfunction cease. Finally, he rests the cup of coffee on the step, running out of words, he simply says “What, the fuck,” 

He tries to continue with his day but the flowers are really doing his head in, were they put there? Who put them there? Where could they have come from? There were many questions he simply could not answer, but the flowers are nice to look at. Around midday, when he’s sat outside, eating lunch with a thoughtful expression, he swears he hears a laugh. Blinking through wide cerulean eyes, Logan searches for the source with a mouthful of cheese and lettuce. Chewing slowly he stands up and walks towards the flowers, were the flowers whispering or was it his imagination?

He’s starting to wonder if he had been asleep, or if he’d swapped his usual cup of coffee for straight absinth before a tap on his shoulder causes him to cry out in shock. 

A man. 

Probably. 

Logan takes a second to recover and then another to analyse the strange creature, who had at least the body shape of a man. Wearing a pastel blue polo shirt and a long flowing skirt decorated with pink flowers. Vines crawled up the man’s arms, and flowers bloomed around his head as petals fell to the bounce of his excitement. If the flowers were indeed growing out of his skull, then Logan would recommend a hospital appointment. However, the blue freckles decorating pale skin and pink eyes just a little too wide, teeth just a little too pointed, tells Logan that perhaps this is way out of the way of his logical reasoning. 

In his very expanded and large vocabulary, Logan could only manage out a “what?” as he stares at the creature. He giggles in response and takes Logan’s hand. 

“Did you like the flowers? Your garden looked so bare, it made me sad, so I gave it life!” Logan gets his confirmation on whether the flowers are growing out of the stranger, when one blooms where his skin meets Logan’s, he detaches it and hands it over. “I’m Patton!” Patton’s voice is full of energy and awe and...happiness. It confuses Logan and he’s got many questions that he just can’t find the words too. “I’m a Spring Fairy, but I’m also known as The Flower Prince,” 

He’s either dreaming or very drunk, Logan decides as words again, die on his lips, before he finally says “Impossible,” the flower wilts in his hand and Patton pouts, arms folding across his chest “The Fae are simply a myth, you can’t exist, it doesn’t...make sense,” The dead flower drops from his hand and he steps back. Patton knows fear on a Human, he can smell it. A sigh escapes him in a dramatic fashion.

“Well of course it makes sense, someone has to keep all the science in check! Otherwise there would be destabilizations everywhere, not that Humans are helping, throwing plastic into the seas and cutting down all our trees! Since you invented technology all you’ve done is destroy our work with it!” A displeased noise wracks his small body, his skirt flowing with his movements. “And now you’re telling me I don’t make sense! How rude! I make a lot of sense thank you very much, you just aren’t keeping up!”

Logan can’t quite fault him at that, he really isn’t keeping up. Yesterday he didn’t have flowers and today he’s pissed off a Fae Prince. It’s a series of mishaps that seem to be occurring to him these past couple of days. “Sorry,” he finally says, still trying to compute the mere existence of the fairy. 

“Apology accepted,” And then he’s smiling again, his teeth are as sharp as needles, but it’s somehow an attractive look on someone with Ivy climbing up their arms and flowers growing out of their skull. “Do you like the flowers?”

“They’re very nice,” He sighs and rubs his temple “A lot to compute but very nice,” 

“It is Human custom to give someone they like flowers, yes?” The Fae Prince continues, eyelashes fluttering “My friend Roman said that Humans give each other flowers as a symbol of friendship or romance, sometimes if they want to mate with them,” He can at least understand where Patton had gone wrong. He flushes a little red nonetheless. 

“Usually a bouquet or potted plant, but a garden works too,” He strains to not laugh, this entire situation was just a little bit ridiculous and he really does not want to try and read in between the lines of Patton’s statement there.

“Good.” is the hummed response he got “You’re very pretty Logan, I see you every morning on my rounds, your house is at the exact midpoint between the Summer Fae castle and the Spring Fae castle, you’re always getting the post at the exact same time, so I thought I would give you some flowers, because you’re pretty and I want to be your friend!” It feels like there’s more to this that he’s not being told, and in the myths Fae were always described as tricksy, omitting the truth. 

But Patton is quite pretty too. 

“Very few people want to be my friend,” He sighs as he sits down on his doorstep, resting the cup of coffee on the ground, Patton sits next to him and Logan notes his feet are bare, yet there’s not a scratch on them. He swears the other looks a little gobsmacked “Or finds me pretty for that matter,”

“Well, I think you’re very pretty,” Patton hums “And I never lie! Only dance around the truth most of the time,” Well, he’s honest at best. “If you were a Fae you’d be wilting by now, all this brickwork and not enough trees, maybe I should’ve given you a tree,”

“No, no the flowers...they’re just fine thank you very much,” Logan scrambles before the creature can summon a tree in his front garden, there’s already enough to tend too without apple picking. “They’re very colorful, but I don’t think some of these species can survive in this climate,” He looks at the many kinds and shapes and shades, neatly arranged in rows. 

“They will find their way,” Is the mysterious response he gets. Patton rests his head on Logan’s shoulder, the Human can’t help but tense a little, but he relaxes as the strange young man nuzzles against him, practically purring. Well, something that adorable should not only be illegal but can’t be all that bad, right?

The fae sits up and glances at  the sun with a sigh “I must go now, but I’m glad you enjoy your garden, Logan,” He leans forward and presses a kiss to the Human’s lips, feeling him blush underneath his fingertips. Logan watches him stand with a dumbstruck expression, his feet padding against the ground as two light blue wings unfurl. 

“Wait...” Patton turns, eyebrows raised “How did you know my name?” He gets a quite giggle in response before the wings flutter and Patton is gone. “And will I see you again?” He whispers to the air, staring at the flowers for a moment before he knows, he most likely will be.

--

Taglist:

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten// @theresneverenoughfandoms // @charmingprincey //  @aclickonapostwillchangeyourlife // @heck-im-lost//@k9cat//@stilljittery//@romansleftshoulderpad// @sanderssideslibrary // @max-is-tired //@therealmoshar// @punsterterry // @trashypansexual// //@demigodnamedathena//@sevencrashing// @misunderstood-shadow//@aphriteblack//@jemthebookworm//@sandersandthesides//@penguinkool//@georganabanana// @importantrunawaystudentstuff // @ao-koshka// @dangerous-doodle // @river-waterfall // @hell-or-high-waters // @no-sleep-gang-posts//  @wxlcomxtothxjunglx //@marshmallow-the-panda// @flix-net

--

Ko-Fi

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Shapeshifter/Werewolf AU

NOTE: So there is a ton of really good werewolf-Arthur stuff floating around and I love it. Here is one more. Also, I read this and got inspired. 

Summary: Werewolf-Arthur but Vivi and Lewis are shapeshifters. They all go out on the full moon Harry Potter style. Set pre-canon.

.

The sky is bright blue today. If the weather report is to be believed, it will remain clear for the next five nights. Perfect for camping. Everything is falling into place, and Arthur is feeling increasingly energised. There is an extra spring to his step uncommon for this time of the mouth. Even his Uncle Lance, who hovers, face creased into an almost permanent frown, can’t dampen his spirits.

Arthur shoves clothes into his bag, throwing a comment over his shoulder, “I’ll be fine. Mystery is supervising.”

“Mystery. Mystery ya friend’s dog. That Mystery?” His Uncle, leaning against the doorframe, scowls some more, sounding disgruntled. After so many years living with the man, Arthur knows that the irritation is just a poor disguise for worry. He pays it no mind, continuing to pack.  

“I think he is some form a Kitsune. You know, a Japanese fox spirit. He’s like Vivi, except, instead of pretending to be a human, he pretends to be a dog. Also, Mystery’s a few hundred years old, a whole lot more powerful, and he is super experienced when it comes to these things.”

“I don’t like it.”

Arthur sighs, lifting his stuffed duffle bag. His Uncle’s distrust of the Yukino family has been an ongoing source of tension this last week. Vivi’s dad had it out for him, some old prejudice about curses and bad luck, but Mystery has never seemed bothered by it.

“It’s either this or a night in the basement,” He reasons, twitching in discomfort at the thought of being stuck in the basement for another full moon. The idea is equally unattractive to his Uncle, who grimaces. Neither of them enjoys locking Arthur up for full moons. Especially now, when Arthur is older and more unpredictable, and there is a large iron cage involved. He hates that cage. Necessary for his Uncle’s safety, but unpleasant on all counts.

His Uncle relents, “I want ya to call every night when possible.”

Arthur hoists a tent up in his free hand with an ease born of supernatural strength. With the full moon tomorrow, the bleed between human and wolf is becoming increasingly pronounced, resulting in heightened senses and ability.

“If anything happens, even if it's bad, you come back, ya hear. I don’t give a shit about what ya do when you’re the wolf, you come back, and we’ll deal with it together like we always do.”

Arthur slips around his Uncle, heading for the front door and his waiting van. “Yes. I know. I will.”

“If I don’t hear from ya, I’m hiking out there to track ya down myself.”

The air is crisp — a beautiful day. Arthur strides out across the parking lot, relishing the feel of open space. The sprawling desert on either side of him beckons to him. ‘Run. Be free,’ his instincts tell him. The door to the front reception rattles in its frame, and his Uncle follows him outside.

“I’ll be fine. We’ve been planning this for ages. I’m even looking forward to it.” He turns, smiling despite ongoing misgivings. To look forward to a full moon is monumental. It is something entirely new for Arthur. Honesty, he’s still not sure how to deal with it and is almost waiting for it all to come crashing down around him. Surely, someone is about to jump out and inform him that this all a joke.

His Uncle hesitates on approach, torn for maybe a second before deflating. He steps up to put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. The action takes a bit of stretching, due to Lance’s shorter statue.  

“I’m just worried about ya.”

“I know. I swear I won’t take any chances. This is going to work. Trust me.” It had to work because, as amazing as his Uncle is, he is still just a human-A human with a werewolf nephew who put themselves in danger every month. Arthur’s biggest fear is waking up one of these mornings to discover his Uncle dead by his hand.  

Thankfully, his Uncle nods in acceptance, reaching forward and pulling him down for a ruff hug. Arthur breaths in, scenting the familiar oil and grease mixed with tobacco underling the salami sandwich Lance ate for lunch yesterday. It’s a comforting scent. They separate, and Arthur steps away, swinging himself into the van, throwing his belongings into the back.

Lance walks to stand near the window, folding his arms once again.

“Don’t forget. Call. Every night.”

“I will,” Arthur answers, wavering before flipping the ignition and accelerating out of the lot. Vivi, living smack in the centre of town, is a half-hour drive from Kingsman Mechanics.

When he pulls up, the whole Yukino family is out on their porch. Vivi is having some disagreement with her father, her mum looks to be playing mediator, and the Yukino elder is idly tracking his approach. They make eye contact. Arthur sinks low in his seat, so he is mostly hidden from view. Just perfect. He’d been hoping to avoid drawing attention to himself.

While he waits, he deliberately ignores how the wards around Vivi’s house make his skin itchy and hair stand on end. Wards designed to deter creatures like him. The few times he had been invited in -on the rare occasion Vivi’s family are away- had left him with ringing ears and a clogged nose. The layers of illusion, plastered over the house’s plain exterior, coupled with the wards, play havoc with his senses. A common reaction when supernatural creatures encounter ‘fox magic,’ Vivi had tried to reassure.

Ten more minutes of arguing and Vivi throws her hands up in frustration, grabbing her bag and stomping up the garden path, visibly irritated. Over her head, Arthur catches the eye of her father, who is glaring daggers at the van. His eyes narrow, flashing blue. Arthur doesn’t need heightened instincts to recognise a warning sign. Internally, he groans, sinking further, putting his head below the window, resigning himself to another ‘stay away from my daughter or else’ lecture. So far, the ‘or else’ was impending, but Arthur can’t help but worry every time he accidentally reminds the patriarch that he exists. It throws a damper on his anticipation like a bucket of ice.

The passenger door opens. Mystery leaps up into the van, giving him a perplexed lopsided expression. Vivi clambers in after him, throwing her bag over the seat divider in the same movement. A puzzled glance is given when she notices him almost on the floor.

“Your dad hates me.” He offers.

“Oh, ignore him. He’s got his head stuck back in feudal japan,” Vivi gripes, twisting to pull down her seatbelt, “Right Mystery?”

Mystery, who has seated himself between them, nods, projecting his voice, /Though concern for one’s progeny is natural, the fact that I am acting as your guardian makes his worry unfounded. /

“See. Mystery agrees with me.”

“Is that what that was…” Arthur mutters, starting the van up so he can drive away as quickly as possible. He can still feel piercing blue eyes ten minutes later when the Pepper’s diner, in all its bright pink glory, appears on the horizon. Anxiety and fear are quickly killing the rest of his excited anticipation.  Now, he is wondering whether Vivi’s dad has a point.

“He’s right you know,” Arthur blurts, unable to help it, “Your dad I mean. About me being dangerous. I don’t even remember most full moons. I’ve ripped up all the basement floorboards and destroyed whole walls before.” He had even hurt people, back when he and his Uncle had lived in the city, but he can’t bring himself to mention that failing. “The full moon is nothing like when we’ve all gone running together or shifted to mess around. What if I hurt you.”

“Arthur,” Vivi sighs, turning to stare at his profile, “We’ve talked about this. There is no way we are letting you spend any more full moons locked up in that thing you keep in the basement. Not when we have a better option. My dad can go suck on a lemon, because, curse or not, I’m doing this.”

“What if something goes wrong and you regret it...”

“The only thing I regret is that we didn’t know you were a bitten-wolf sooner.”

Arthur hyper focuses on turning off the motorway, face heating up. Honesty, Arthur hadn’t known there was a difference between him and Lewis’s wolf nature until an offhand comment about werewolves had Lewis commenting that the full moon gave him a crazy appetite. Vivi’s dad had been by to threaten him enough times that he had assumed Vivi knew he was a werewolf and not a regular shifter, but she had simply nodded along with Lewis, asking if Arthur had a similar quirk. Then Arthur had been too embarrassed to correct them. The full moon was such an unpleasant experience for him that he had avoided talking about it for years, making excuse after excuse.

/To go on a hunt with one’s pack is a common strategy when dealing with lunar-madness — one of the reasons you wolves tend to congregate in one location. / Mystery adds, voice calmer.

“Exactly. You’ll have Lewis. You get along great when you shift. Also, I wouldn’t be much of a fox if I couldn’t keep up with you two bumbling lumps.”

“Lewis is a regular wolf, and you’re just so tiny. I could easily hurt one of you,” He objects.  

/Fear not, Arthur. In the unlikely event that you do not recognise your companions as part of your pack, I will intervein and keep you and them safe for the night’s duration. / Arthur eyes Mystery and exhales to release tension. Mystery was so good at masking his presence that sometimes Arthur forgot he was a crazy strong spirit. According to Vivi, her family had once been his vassals, actual foxes, before marrying into human lines. It was where she got her shifting ability and instinct for magic. Arthur’s not sure how Mystery ended up disguised as a dog, playing family guardian to a bloodline who were once his servants, but he’s not about to question it. If the supernatural world was anything, it was convoluted.

“Arthur.”

“What.”

They’d pulled into one of the vacant spots outside the Pepper's diner. Arthur realises he’s been sitting, staring at his lap, in silence. Vivi’s leaning over, waving to catch his attention. She smells like paper, grass, flowers and that electric undertone he associates with magic.

“Don’t let my dad get you down. This’ll be fun. I know I’m looking forward to camping, and the full moon is only one night.”

“Right. Yeah.” His dour mood falls away. Vivi’s eyes are sparking blue, signalling her enthusiasm. “You’re right.”

A knock on the van’s glass window has both him and Vivi twisting in their seats. Lewis waves from the other side and Vivi quickly winds the window down so she can call a greeting.

“Don’t suppose I could trouble you for a lift,” Lewis jokes, holding his thumb like he’s attempting to hitchhike.

“I don’t know. Where are you heading, stranger,” Vivi returns, leaning out to grin. Arthur feels a smile return, and he clicks off the locks so Vivi overbalances when Lewis tries the handle. It is the breakfast rush, so none of the other Peppers have joined Lewis outside- too busy serving customers- but Lewis has a giant portable cooler at his feet, which is probably packed with their cooking.

“Hey, Arthur. How are you holding up?”  Lewis meets, attention moving off Vivi. His eyes flash gold, catching the light, and Arthur gets that additional rush of excitement reuniting with Lewis always inspires. Vivi called it a ‘pack response,’ but Arthur’s not so sure, seeing as he feels the same way when he sees her. Vivi's not a wolf after all.

“I’m fine,” This isn’t his first full moon, so the concern is a little unnecessary. He still finds himself pleased to receive it though.

“There’s space in the back for that. Hold on. I’ll get the back doors.”

“Thanks. I brought an extra tent as well,” Lewis continues, tracking him as he circles around the vehicle to open the back.

Vivi sticks her head over the seat divider to watch them, commenting, “Because two tents aren’t enough.”

“You can never be too prepared.”

“We have space. Why not?” Arthur reasons, reordering his and Vivi’s stuff to give Lewis room to load up his cooler box and mound of additional camping supplies. Of the three of them, Lewis has definitely packed the lions share.

Then Lewis hands them all sandwiches, correctly guessing that no one has eaten breakfast, and they hit the road. While he and Viv eat, Lewis drives humming along to the radio. Thoughts of Vivi’s dad fade into the background, Arthur simply enjoying being in the presence of both his friends. Even Mystery, who tended to be more reserved, is joining in their conversation, seemingly looking forward to spending time hiking about in nature.

[jimlingss]

Worshipers of the Sky [Finale]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [Finale]

Part of the Worshiper Series

➜ Words: 9.6k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Some Angst, God!AU

➜ Summary: He wonders why the sky doesn't cry for him. After all, he is a sacrifice to a god whose name he never heard of. A sacrifice to a god that everyone had forgotten about. A god who controls weather through emotions.

➜ Warnings: N/A

He can’t believe he’s been kidnapped.   The realization only hits Taehyung when he’s sitting on a tiny stool next to Miyin’s grand throne and his mind is finally able to clear up. The goddess is getting a foot rub from her servant while she judges the next soul who enters the room. After she sentences the soul to burn in a fire for the next five decades, he finally turns to her.   “Why do you want me?”   “Enough.” She signals to her servant who scrambles, setting her foot down and standing up, only to rush over and take her hand, guiding her off the throne. Once the Goddess of the Underworld is on her feet, she turns to Taehyung with a curl of her finger. “Walk with me, human.”   The short male servant goes running ahead of her, pushing open the double doors. Taehyung’s greeted with the magnificent dining room. The table seems to stretch on for meters, twenty empty chairs surrounding the feast prepared. Around the room are portraits of the goddess herself, painted in dark hues that seem to glow with the hanging chandelier’s luminescence.   Taehyung doesn’t like it one bit. There are no natural lights here, no sign of the sun, only the flickering flames of candles. There are constant whispers in the corners, shadows that seem to follow after him, and he swears monsters are creeping in places he cannot see. It brings chills to his spine, and when he looks outside the glass windows, instead of seeing clouds and garden beds, it’s a land of black. There are dead trees with naked branches that curl in bizarre directions. The only light source seems to be something in the sky equivalent to the moon.   It’s a wasteland.   He tried to return back to the Heavens and somehow he ended up in the opposite direction.   The poor servant skedaddles over to pull out a chair for Taehyung, guiding him into the seat before he dashes around the entire room to pull out a chair for the black-haired goddess. She plops down and takes the goblet, taking a large sip of the wine.   “Being in charge of judgment can be so tiring sometimes,” she exhales and rolls her shoulders, robes shuffling down for a mere moment and more skin revealed. But Taehyung isn’t distracted this time around and his eyes remain firm on her’s. “What do I want with you,” she sing-songs and hums. “A very good question indeed.”   The goddess sets down her chalice and shrugs before her mouth curls into a smirk as if he’s delicious prey she’s preparing to devour. “Rather than wanting you, I want some fun. Humans are dispensable. If I wanted to, I could pick up tens of them every hour and play till my heart’s content. There are many people like you, Taehyung. But it gets boring after a while, no? I’d much rather play with Y/N.”   Taehyung frowns. “You’re using me to get to her?”   “That’s what the world’s like, darling.” The goddess lifts up her chalice once more, cheering. “She threw you away, so I just nabbed my chance. Loser weepers, finders keepers.”   She finishes her drink and sets it down, causing her servant to rush over with a golden jug and pour her more wine. “Now it’s my turn to ask you…” Her long fingernails tap against the armrest of her chair. “What do you want?”   “Me?”   “Yes, you.” She pops a strawberry into her mouth and chews thoughtfully. “I am the Goddess of the Underworld, ruler of an entire realm and I’m offering to grant any desire that you may have, so speak.”   His eyes narrow in suspicion and Taehyung continues to sit straight, rigidly, with his hands in his lap, not moving or relaxing a single inch. “What’s the price?”   Miyin cackles and puts her palm down on the table. “I would be offended that you would take my graciousness as some sort of trick, but Y/N taught you well. Name your wish first and I will name my price.”   “I want to go back to the Heavens,” he says it without a moment of hesitation. “I want to talk to Y/N. I…..want to stay by her side.”   She hums a low note and pops a grape in her mouth. “And?”   “I want…” Taehyung inhales a breath, revealing what he wants the most. “I want to be her protector.”   “How noble of you. It’s admirable.” She smiles, irises glimmering as she chews and swallows down her fruit. “Your loyalty is strong. Of all things you could wish for, you wish to be her guard. I’m almost envious of Y/N. But let me offer you one better.”   “What is it?”   “I could make you into a demigod.” Her lips spread and it’s enticing. Taehyung hangs off every word as if he is intoxicated. “Half human. Half god. You could stay with Y/N indefinitely.”   The goddess stands suddenly and Taehyung follows after her. Her sole servant sprints to open the grand doors to the left wall. An endless hall is revealed, moonlight pouring on the carpeted path, glass windows to his right and more portraits to the other side that seem to stare as he brushes past. At the end of a hall is yet another door and he assumes it must be her bedroom.   Miyin walks and Taehyung trails after her. There are a few antiques on shelves and stands and her fingers brush fondly over a vase before she continues along and addresses him.   “Of course, you would have to pay your own price for that. You would be immortal.” She pauses and turns to him. “Lots of humans wish for immortality without knowing the cost. They chase after it like fools. But nobody, not even Y/N, would wish that punishment upon you. To stay alive eternally is to be trapped. You would be forced to watch her die and come back, wait for her to grow up, only for her to die again. There would be no end in sight. You would never have rest or peace.”   “But….you could be with her.” Miyin’s voice is gentle. It is deafeningly quiet in the land of the dead, even white noise is absent to the ears. The goddess allows Taehyung to make a fair decision, not utilizing her powers nor twisting the truth. There is no deception in her words.   “If not, when you die and your body withers away, your soul will return to this place for me to judge. Most likely, you’ll be wandering without escape, without many memories. And ultimately, Y/N will be by herself for the infinite lifetimes to come.”   It sinks in. It soaks through.   The Goddess of the Underworld awaits his decision or at least a reaction. She watches him, trying to decipher where he leans with the proposition. And Taehyung cannot even hint to the thoughts brewing inside his mind. Something is lodged in his throat, uncomfortable in his chest.   He doesn’t know.   He is conflicted. He is torn.   “And what’s in it for you?”   The goddess cackles at his question, musing that you truly chose someone who was both amusing and intriguing. Even with such a tempting offer of being made a god, his judgment is not clouded with greed. He is smart, almost fearsomely so. “I want you to satisfy my pleasures.”   Taehyung’s brow lifts, his lips in a tight straight line. “Meaning?”   She takes a step forward, hand gently brushing along his shoulder until she grabs hold of the collar of his shirt, tugging him closer. Miyin’s red stained lips hover above Taehyung’s, a few millimeters apart, but she maintains the distance and smiles. He swallows hard, keeping his eyes trained on her’s.   “Whatever I desire, you will fulfill it. Whenever, wherever.” Her hot breath ghosts on his skin and she steps back, letting him breathe again. “Y/N wouldn’t have to know about it. It would all be in your dreams. Your heart belongs to her. Your body belongs to me.”   The goddess is seductive and her contract is even more so. She makes promises that it would feel so good, he wouldn’t know anything else. She tells him all he has to do is agree and once they enter her room, all his wishes will be fulfilled just like that. He’ll have you. He’ll be with you — forever.   But…..but….   “I can’t do that to her.”   Taehyung shatters the trance she’s put him under with a soft whisper. His mind clears. He knows that he’s too selfish. He can’t divide himself, deceive you, love you with only part of him. He’s too greedy. He’s too human. If he is to be with you, he wants to be all there and he wants all of you as well. Body, mind, and soul.   “Ugh...humans and their foolishness.” Her face twists something akin to disappointment and distaste while her mutter sounds like it’s a thought to herself. Miyin increases the distance between her and Taehyung, but before she turns away completely, she warns him one last time.   “Are you certain of your answer? This is once in a lifetime, once in your entire existence. You will never be offered to be made a god by anyone else. Would you rather die and let Y/N suffer on her lonesome for the eons left to come? Or would you want to pay a little price to be beside her?”   “I….I need time.” Taehyung downcasts his head, unable to look at her, still torn. “I need more time to decide.”   She smirks and nods, eager to get her hands on him, but restraining herself. “Of course, take all the time you need. In the meantime, I can help you with your other wish…..and no, there isn’t a cost or any tricks. It’s out of the goodness of my own cold heart...and to hopefully advertise and coerce you to take my other offer.”   Taehyung is still on guard and apprehensive. “What is it?”   Miyin simply turns to her left and takes a long handed sword off of its display, tossing it lightly to him. For some reason, he doesn’t scream nor does his entire head get severed from his neck, but his instincts take over and he manages to catch the handle.   His eyes grow wide and she claps her hands together twice. The doors open, warm light shedding into the dark hallway and her servant comes running again. “How may I offer my services, madam?”   “Sihyuk,” she calls the servant like it’s odd on her tongue, as if she’s used to calling him ‘you there’ rather than by his actual name. “Show Taehyung to the armory and training chambers.”   He folds his hands together and bows deeply, never once looking her directly in her eyes. “Right away, madam.”   The corner of her mouth upturns and she raises a brow at the human before striding off. “If you want to become her protector, then you should at least learn how to protect, no?”   //   Taehyung cannot know how long he is there for. It seems like time is wrapped in the Underworld and especially when there is no rise or fall of the sun, no change of moons, he can’t say for sure if he’s there for a day, a few weeks, or months on end.   The goddess is typically preoccupied with her own duties, so she is unable to follow after him and pressure him into giving a definitive answer. On most days, she’s seated at her throne, flicking dirt from underneath her fingernails, bored out of her mind as she judges the souls that come wandering into the throne room. And for Taehyung, he spends his time training.   He’s never held a sword before. For heaven’s sake, his mom didn’t even let him use a cutting knife back at home because he nicked himself once as a child. He’s awkward and frankly, cowardly with the sharp weapon that seems like it could slice through brick. But he’s put through extensive training with deceased souls of warriors and generals.   Miyin allows Taehyung to interact with dead souls of soldiers, letting them become an apparition temporarily. And he trains like a dog with these brutal men. They scream, they shout commands, and they fight him. Luckily, Taehyung can’t be hurt, the pain only lasting for a split second, and whenever he slices through their ghostly bodies, they crumble to ash.   “Bend your knees, boy!” Minseok, Great General of the Midland Wars paces back and forth with his arms tucked behind his back. He is absolutely terrifying and Taehyung’s body is shaking while his eyes watch the translucent man who seems to float. He can’t believe he’s actually speaking to someone he’s read in history books. “Draw your sword with more vigor! Look more stern! You call that a swing?! I’ve had legless soldiers better than you!”   “I could probably stab him in one swing,” Mark, fierce warrior from the kingdom Irha, mutters underneath his breath but his volume is still too loud.   “A stick could probably kill him in one swing.” Another famous general, Jihoon, chuckles lowly with his arms crossed, observing the entire scene.   “What I’m more curious of is why he is choosing to fight with a sword.” Yoojae, one of the oldest philosophers and scholars of his time, puts his scroll down into his lap. “If they are gods, then no physical weapon could ever do them harm.”   “Huh, good point.” The warrior is stumped for a second. “But it’s still good to work on his skills, lest he look like a skinny skeleton man who could snap with a brush of the wind.”   “If he were of any intelligence, he ought to work on his wit,” the Scholar says. “Outsmarting the gods is more powerful than one may think.”   “Maybe so.” The General agrees and eyes how Taehyung swings at the other man, stiff but better than last time. “But you also underestimate the power of the sword. It is not the weapon alone that will challenge the gods, but the game of mind and the psychological. The mere fact that he is training will bring cause for intimidation. It will mean he’s willing to go at great costs to protect his woman, to the point of risking bodily harm upon himself. It means he is willing to become violent and to fight.”   The Scholar and Warrior stare at him until the former man laughs. “You should’ve gone to school and written a book on the laws of warfare.”   “I would’ve if the entire kingdom wasn’t being torn apart during my time.”   “It helps that he has my sword,” the Warrior leans in and tells. “It’s been blessed by a priestess with the ability to kill any god.” The two other men turn to stare at him with wonderment, horror, and surprise. And he merely shrugs. “Won’t help with the way he’s swinging that thing though.”   “Are you blind or are your eye sockets backwards, boy?” The Great General is shrieking at him and when Taehyung spews out apologies, he seems to get angrier. “Are you going to apologize to your enemy?! Are you going to start a little apologetic tea party?! I’ve had armless soldiers better than you!”   Taehyung doesn’t think he’s suited to this lifestyle. He’s much better off being a gentle baker or a florist or a sacrifice. At the rate he’s going at, he might as well be a human kebab, stabbed with a sword and roasted over a fire. But still, despite the gossip he sometimes hears from the warriors, generals, scholars, and their snarky comments from the sidelines...despite being yelled at.....Taehyung can feel his improvement.   And Miyin is impressed.   “The more and more I watch him, the more attractive he becomes,” she muses and waves her hand, making the mirror disappear. Occasionally while she sits on her throne, she likes to take a peek to see what he’s doing. “He is quite an honourable man. You don’t encounter many of his kind. It’s no wonder Y/N has become so weak for him.”   “But madam.” Sihyuk lowers his head. “He is a mere mortal and—”   “Shut your mouth,” she snaps cruelly to her servant and he flinches. “I know it’s disgraceful to desire a human, you don’t need to remind me. You think I am so shallow that I am going this far for my own lust?”   “Then are you not afraid of what the Goddess of Sky can do?”   Miyin motions for him and he helps guide her off her throne. She struts towards the glass window with a smirk. “Do you see any sky here? Why should I be fearful of something that has no effect on me?”   “But—”   “Ooh, looks like we have a guest.” The goddess’ dark orbs glimmer and as she spins around, the grandiose doors to the throne room swing open. As it parts, she’s met with another individual whose hair is equally black as her’s.   As intimidating as he presents himself and the way his aura is, it doesn’t change his endearing appearance. Cat-like eyes, black irises with a glimmer of milky white that sparkles, fluffy hair strands, rounded cheeks that contrast against his sharp jawline, he’s honestly too cute. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you fool of a cow. Do you want to be damned to death?”   Ah...there it is.   “You always have the best greetings, Yoongi.” Miyin smiles and her servant scrambles away, giving the two of them their privacy. The god strides straight towards her, black robes swaying as his steps seemingly boom. “But is this a way to greet your sister in her own home?”   “Stop this madness,” he commands in a raspy timbre, but she is not a human and cannot be swayed by his voice alone. “Stop playing games before the council punishes you.”   The Goddess of the Underworld quirks her head to the side and bats her eyelashes. “I haven’t done anything wrong?”   “Y/N isn’t someone to mess with.” Yoongi won’t allow any time for mischief or jokes. His lips are in a tight line, his stare intense. “It’s dangerous.”   “Don’t be so anxious, Yoongi.” She brushes her hand on his shoulder but frowns when he shoves her off. “Why are you all so afraid of her—”   He sighs exhaustingly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Just because you’re not directly affected by her actions, doesn’t mean you can just do whatever you want. Are you trying to increase the death count? You want more souls or something?”   “Not particularly…”   “Because there’s a damn hurricane up there right now!” He’s shouting, usual composure completely lost. “There is a storm and a fucking typhoon and at this point, Jungkook is pissed Y/N is messing with his ocean. You’re going to start another war!”   The goddess stays silent, pouting at not having her way and her brother shakes his head. “You have zero idea of what you’re doing. Where is he? What did you do with him?”   “Nothing,” she exhales and then claps her hands, causing her servant to come bounding from the other room. “Call Taehyung.” He nods and within the next minute, the human is trailing after him, entering the throne hall, eyes landing on the unfamiliar god. “There you are! Looks like our time is running out, darling.”   Taehyung stares at Yoongi. “Who—?”   “I am God of Moon and of Hunt….” He sighs and runs a hand over his tired face, not bothering to go through with a proper, long introduction. “Look, you probably know who I am and if you don’t, pick up a book and do some reading, human.”   Taehyung would be amused by the god since it seemed like most of them put an emphasis on introducing themselves as if it was directly linked to their own pride, but the solemn atmosphere doesn’t allow him to smile. Yoongi inhales and shakes his head. “We don’t have much time.”   “What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, looking between the both of them and Sihyuk, but they ignore him.   Suddenly, the ceiling shakes and quivers. There’s a ricocheting crash, an explosion-like clamor somewhere above them and the servant winces, trembling in fear. The candles flicker and the chandelier swings gently. There are specks that fall from the ceiling to the floor. It’s as if there’s a giant stomping on the roof or perhaps it’s a bit farther.   “I don’t think we have any time.” Both of the gods sense an oncoming presence and Miyin pouts, quickly turning to Taehyung. “Our fun is over, darling. What a shame I couldn’t even get my hands on you, but the time has come. Tell me what your final decision is.”   “Will you sacrifice your body and soul to stay by the side of whom owns your heart?” The corner of her lips curls and she steals a step closer to him. “Or will you choose to stay the same and when you die, you will abandon her for the rest of eternity?”   Taehyung swallows hard.   The goddess sways closer to him until she’s a millimeter away. She smiles and he feels goosebumps erupt across his arms when her hot breath skims along his skin. “I could turn you into a demigod. You would have powers beyond belief, in a way you’ve never felt before.”   “Miyin,” Yoongi warns in a lower tone.   But she ignores him and she drops her voice into a seductive whisper, luring Taehyung in and making his mind hazy with intoxication. She pulls him closer to her, a temptress in the way she presses her body against his, making him hitch his breath in his throat. “And you could have me. I know you want to touch me, Taehyung. I can feel it. I know you can’t resist. Don’t you want to feel pleasure? Beyond what any man can ever experience. I can give you that. I can be that.”   To live forever and spend every single one of those moments being with you. He could have powers. He could truly protect you then, from the other gods, from humans, from any threat that lays in your path. All he would have to do is suffer consequences of immortality and to sacrifice his dreams, to allow the Goddess of the Underworld to indulge in him and for him to indulge in her.   “I….I—….”   It’s an opportunity he won’t receive again. And if he doesn’t take it, he will die anyways and come back to the Underworld as a soul. He will leave you. You would be left wallowing in grief, for the sky to follow suit and the rest of the universe to crumble along. Returning now would simply be prolonging the inevitable.   But...   “I can’t do it.”   Taehyung shoves her away.   The spell breaks and the Goddess of the Underworld stumbles back in shock. Even Yoongi’s eyes have doubled in size and her servant’s jaw drops, a squeak leaving his mouth, stunned at how the human physically pushed the goddess away.   “I can’t do that to Y/N.” He swallows hard and challenges her. “I will never do that to her.”   Miyin’s finger quivers as it raises, pointing at him. Her face is reddened in rage. “You—!”   “I don’t want you. I want Y/N. And I want all of her.” Maybe it is outrageous to give up such an opportunity. But at this moment, Taehyung can think of nothing but you.   Every little quirk, each of your childish antics. The way you pout at him, yell at him, scold him. The way your tears drip off your lashes when the rain pours. The way you laugh and the sun seems to shine brighter and the universe is painted in warmer shades. The way you call his name softly like it’s a plea for hope. The way you gaze at him and the sky blooms in a hue of rose.   The answer comes easier than expected. “And I want her to want all of me.”   There’s a beat of silence.   Then, the Goddess knocks back at her head, scoffing before it morphs into cold laughter, lacking all mirth and never quite reaching her dead eyes. “Never in all my lifetimes has a generous offer like this been rejected, and by a mere mortal at that,” she spits it out in unadulterated appallment.   “No man could ever resist me.” Her eyes narrow and she steps back, shaking her head. “You have disgraced and disrespected your gracious god. You disgust me. I never want to lay my eyes on you again. Not even after you die.”   The goddess’ fist clenches, pride damaged, and she unleashes her hatred in the only form she knows how—   “Listen well, human. I bestow to you the same favour you have endowed to me, shame and humiliation, a curse that will never be broken. Your soul will live on, never to crumble to the underworld, never to meet rest. You want your wish fulfilled? Then so be it, but at a price you could never conjure.”   Her voice rumbles and ricochets across the land of the dead, heard by ears that cannot beg for mercy. A sharp pain shoots through Taehyung’s chest before simmering down into a constant ache and he winces, lungs lost of breath. The walls shake in the goddess’ wrath, her pupils blown in anger.   “You shall reincarnate. You shall live again and again to find the one you most desire. You shall never let the Goddess of the Skies decay in her loneliness, but your soul will seek no rest either.” The heavy curtains of the windows soar, wind breaking through the room. The shadows seem to expand in size, monsters whispering until they shriek in his ears. “Over and over again, you will relearn the sufferings of life. You will relearn the pain of the goddess for whom you long for.”   “You will bear the weight of your punishment for denying a god.” The Goddess of the Underworld curses him with spite, never wanting him to return to her home. “This punishment will last forever.”   A blinding light pierces his vision before endless darkness floods his eyes. The curse is sealed and the agony felt beneath his flesh seemingly vanishes. Right as Taehyung regains his sense of self, the doors to the throne room slam open, almost breaking off the hinges.   And the person Taehyung longs to see the most is standing right in front of him.   You.   He can’t help but smile, even if moments ago he was just cursed for the rest of eternity never to truly die, never to return to the Underworld again. It’s a curse that feels more like a blessing. If he could live over and over again, he won’t mind being pained as long as he’ll be able to find you each time.   “This was not our deal, Miyin!” You’re screaming, face twisted in rage. The chilling wind seems to follow, overtaking the vast spaces of the hall, filling every corner and even making the shadows frightened. “This was NOT part of the favour!”   “Calm down, Y/N.” It’s petrifying how fast the goddess’ face voids of the previous hatred and washes over with a taunting smile. “I didn’t even use the favour, yet. You threw away your sacrifice and I called dibs. Finders keepers. You know the rule.”   “Where is he?!” You ignore her, frantically marching closer, past the carpeted path until your feet echo on the cold cobblestone. “Where is he, Miyin?!”   The male slides himself in the way before you can rip his sister’s face off. His expression is impassive, yet his palms are open as if he’s attempting to placate you. “Y/N.”   “Don’t you lay a finger on me, Yoongi.” You had followed him here and it’s the only reason you didn’t get lost in this maze of a hellhole, but right now you couldn’t appreciate his presence one bit. “Touch me and I swear to the gods—”   Miyin sighs and rubs her temples. “You idiot, he’s standing right there.”   Your entire body whips around, neck turning, eyes growing wide, and you nearly trip on your feet and slam onto the ground when you run over to him. “Taehyung!”   A cheeky smile spreads into his cheeks, staring at you, the way you grab onto him with a tight grip and how glassy your eyes have gotten. He missed you. He missed you a lot.   “What did you do to him?!”   “Nothing.” She glides towards her throne, sitting down and waving her hand like she’s dismissing everyone. “Your toy isn’t fun at all, Y/N. I don’t want him anymore.”   “He isn’t someone you can have!” you shout at her, standing in front of him with your arms open like you’re defending him. Taehyung can’t help but grin, completely enamoured with each of your actions, unable to look away. You’re too cute. “He’s mine! My sacrifice. Mine.”   “Alright, alright. I get it. Can you just please have your sweet little reunion elsewhere? It’s sickening. Take him and for the love of all gods, don’t return.” She claps her hands twice, causing her servant to flounder into the middle of the court. “You. Escort them.”   Sihyuk nods with his head lowered, never looking anyone in the eyes and he gestures towards you. “Y-y-y-your royal highnesses…”   “I still have to talk to my...dear sister.” Yoongi’s done with this mess and especially with his chaotic sibling, but he lingers behind, still having a few issues to address. He wants to speak privately, at least considering the way he turns to you. “Y/N?”   “We’re not done here, Miyin,” you warn her with narrowed eyes. “This isn’t over.”   “Well it is for me.” She sighs for the tenth time. “Just go. Leave me in peace, alright? Your pet has already shaved a thousand years off my life. I don’t want to see his face again. Take him back. Please.”   You scowl at her before shifting slightly to pinch Taehyung’s sleeve. You drag him with you as his irises sparkle with amusement, stupid smile still plastered on his face. As you pass Yoongi, the god lifts his brows and comments, “Do you even know how to leave this place?”   A mere scoff leaves your mouth.   Taehyung is dragged out of the room like a puppy scolded by their owner, but still too excited from that owner’s return to know the consequences. You don’t say a single word towards him, never once glancing back. And then the throne room doors shut with a bang.   //   No god is to be underestimated. Each have their own flaws and powers. They are made to be feared. Yoongi’s personally witnessed his sister’s fury and has been on the forefront of her fluctuating temper. She once turned a woman’s head of hair into snakes, made an adulterous man engage in intercourse until his...extremity fell off, made her servant dig up graves with his bare hands, the list is endless. Yet, despite Kim Taehyung stomping all over the goddess’ dignity and ego, he was still able to walk out alive, with his extremities fully in-tact.   And in a way, his biggest wish was fulfilled anyhow without any bad repercussions.   “That was pretty generous of you,” Yoongi muses.   “What do you mean?” She throws her hair behind her shoulders, fluttering her lashes.   “I’ve seen you curse people in a worst way for a lot less.”   Miyin shrugs with a mischievous smile. “I can understand why Y/N wants to keep him around. I’m quite fond of him….if it wasn’t for the way he disrespected me. But he is an honourable human man. Oddly so.”   Yoongi hums, eyes lingering to the door and where Taehyung had previously stood.   The human gave up the existence of power and the ability to cheat death. Not many would have declined such an opportunity — it was nearly impossible to refuse. Yet, he had done it.   And in a way, even if Taehyung didn’t end up turning into a god, he was still somewhat of a hero.   While you are the Goddess of the Sky, Taehyung has what you need...   He is the Controller of the Sky.

The moment you return to your home, Hyowon and Kayee are all over you in hysterics. But they see who you’ve dragged behind with you and they’re relieved. After all, the sky is completely clear, a vivid azure painting across the horizon. There’s no reason for them to be up in arms anymore. As for Taehyung, you don’t send him back to Earth again. You don’t even yell or scream at him. You do nothing. You shun him, granting nothing but your angry silence.   “Y/N…” This time he’s the one who tugs on your sleeve. “Talk to me…”   You turn to your left, admiring the roses that’s petals are overflowing. And then your vision is blocked by a rectangular grin, the human leaning over and invading your personal space. “Y/N.”   It’s so entirely disrespectful for a mortal to call you without any proper titles and just your name. But you don’t even bother scolding him. He’s ruined all your plans. He’s made your mind turn into pandemonium. And the brat doesn’t even seem bothered by it. “Y/N!”   He pouts exaggeratingly, towering over you in height and cornering you by a tree. “Pay attention to me!”   The human can challenge you however he wants, make you lose your wits, be as annoying as a bug swirling around your head, but if there’s something he should know, it’s how stubborn you can be. You’re dead set on ignoring his existence until he dies peacefully in this place.   … ..   Except, ignoring him is much harder than you expected.   “Did anything happen when you were there?” Kayee asks as he tugs the curtains and pulls open the window casually. “It must’ve been a real surprise. The Goddess of the Underworld is quite fearsome. You weren’t afraid, were you? Or did you get hurt at all?”   The short man looks over at his companion and nudges him. Hyowon clears his throat and agrees, “How did she take you in the first place? I thought you returned safely to your land.”   “Hmm, I did.” Taehyung grins. “But tell Y/N that if she wants to know so badly, she should ask me instead of sending other people to.”   A minute later, the sky becomes cloudy.   To your dismay, Taehyung is much too amused with the situation and your behaviour. He’s sure you’re pouting like a petulant child. You’ve pretty much resorted to locking yourself in. And he knows that you know exactly what you want, but you’re too embarrassed to ask for it. He knows...and that’s why he takes the first step forward.   “Y/N?” Taehyung lingers outside the garden house, leaning his body over as if you could hear him better. The doors are locked and the windows are shut tightly. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was empty. “Y/N? I have a gift for you. You want it?”   Nothing happens.   “I have something important to say,” the human presses on. “Come out.”   Nothing.   He takes a step closer and another, fingers itching to rip the paper door down, but then suddenly a gust of wind stronger than he could even imagined possible blows him back. It’s a tornado that cards through his hair, making it hard to open his eyes, ripping through his mouth and physically making him shuffle back. “Y/N!”   Taehyung screams your name and dark clouds roll over the horizon as if warning him not to go any further. It is the weather of frustration, of worry, of anxiousness all brewed into one storm.   The sky begins to go berserk, thunder and lightning, threats of rain but none that fall. Hyowon and Kayee are running around like headless chickens, heads knocked back, eyes searching for the sun they cannot see. “Taehyung, please,” Hyowon begs him, and even Kayee tells him to stop.   But he won’t.   It’s too important. He has to say it now before he dies of anticipation.   And Taehyung knows there’s one last thing he can do. One fatal flaw of all the gods.   Their pride.   “You’re such a coward!” He shouts above the winds with a grin plastered on his face. His feet stay rooted in the ground no matter how hard the weather tries to push him away. “You’re a great god?! Yeah right! You can’t even face a human like me! You’re scared, that’s what you are!”   “You abandoned me! You sent me back to land?! You thought that was a good idea? Well it wasn’t! I know you didn’t want to send me back! I saw the rain! You cried for days and days! I bet you couldn’t stop, huh?” Taehyung’s having too much fun insulting you and teasing you.   In the meanwhile, Hyowon and Kayee have their jaws dropped and they’re shouting, but it’s fruitless when the former is hugging a tree trunk and the latter has grabbed onto the edge of the porch, scared their little bodies will be blown away and they’ll fall to a tragic death.   “What? Do you think I’ll leave you? Well, I got news for you, lady. I’ll be staying here for a long time! And don’t worry, I’ll make you happy. I’ll make you sad enough times too!” He can’t hear himself when the wind is whistling violently in his ears. “So come out, you coward of a god!”   It’s the last straw.   Suddenly, the doors burst open, nearly falling from their hinges and you’re standing on your feet, chest rising and falling, sharp breaths stolen from your lips. Your eyes are blown in wrath, hair whipping with the winds. “How dare you?!”   A smile spreads through his face when he finally sees you.   “Do you know who I am?! I am the Goddess of the Sky! I am the Goddess of the Weather. I—”   “I love you.”   There is silence. All at once, everything dies down. The clouds halt in their place, letting the sunlight pierce through the grey. The winds vanish, letting down Hyowon and Kayee, stopping flowers from being ripped from their beds. The atmosphere no longer vibrates.   He watches you with a hopeful smile, breath hitched, gaze locked on yours.   Then, out of nowhere, there’s a sound of something dripping.   At first, it’s a single drop and then another, another, before turning into a soft pitter-patter. It hits against the stone path, the pavilion, the flower beds, the roof of the garden house and against the castle ceilings in the distance. It’s gentle, like someone who is beginning to cry. Taehyung lifts his head at the endless horizon, welcoming and embracing the droplets on his face.   It’s warm rain.   “I love you,” he repeats with a wide grin.   Kim Taehyung is transfixed. He’s captivated and enchanted like none other.   It’s beautiful. When tears drip off your lashes and down your face, and the rain pours, he can’t tell if they are droplets from the sky or if they’re you’re soft sobs. Yet, Taehyung finds beauty within the way the raindrops thump against the rooftops in a constant rhythm, comforting during the nights he’s able to find sleep. When you laugh, the sun seems to shine brighter until it’s blinding. The illuminating beams golden in colour and intensify, painting the universe in warmer hues. He can never seem to look away.   And right now, the sunlight was pouring down, hitting you at all the right angles, giving you the softest of glows. The rain was warm, clinging to his lashes, skimming along his skin in most comforting embraces. And you gave him the cheesiest, silliest of smiles.   Taehyung was never a sacrifice for the sky — he is the lonely sky’s protector.

Epilogue   You nudge him.   He doesn’t stir and you nudge him harder. By the fifth nudge, Taehyung is shoved off the mattress with a harsh whimper. His hair is sticking up in every direction, and he lifts his head. His bleary eyes barely manage to open and the narrow slits point towards you. His hoarse voice comes out. “What’s wrong?”   “Nothing.” You smile at him, watching as he rubs his eyes and runs a hand over his face.   It’s the middle of the night, the entire palace put in silence, Kayee and Hyowon probably snoring away in their own rooms. Taehyung rolls on the floor twice before rising into a sitting position. You squat down to connect your eyes, mischief lingering in your eyes. “You want to sneak out?”   A sheepish smile overtakes his visage, and he sleepily lolls his head forward until it’s rested on your shoulder. “Where?” Taehyung manages to mumble with his gruff timbre.   “The human realm.”   The minute the location leaves your mouth, it has his head bolting up, eyes open and wide awake. Taehyung scrambles to get dressed before he takes in how you’re covered from head to toe with a black cloak, hood even hiding your eyes. “Are we even allowed?”   “Psh, don’t you know who I am? The Goddess of Weather. No one can stop me.”   Yet, your words seem to contradict when you end up pulling him out of his room, acting like teenagers as you slink in the shadows, holding your breaths, staying silent. When he steps on a floorboard that squeaks too much, you whip your head over, cringing. It’s amusing how you can be afraid of Hyowon and Kayee, but he thrives on the adrenaline and the rush of sneaking off with you.   The lights to the library are on and when the sliver of luminescence hits Taehyung’s face and he steals a peek, he realizes it’s Hyowon who’s fallen asleep in the armchair with a book in his lap.   The short man stirs for a moment when Taehyung takes a step past. Hyowon stirs again and then yawns, stretching out his limbs. The two of you outside the room have frozen in your spots, pressed against each other as you watch your servant begin to get up from the chair.   That’s when you grab Taehyung’s hand, fingers latching onto his, palms clasping together…   And you book it.   He can’t help the tiny giggles that spill from his mouth. By the time the pair of you have reached outside, gasping for the fresh air, you’re both laughing with each other, barely holding the other person up. It’s crazy, but you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather be crazy with.   You two travel across the gardens towards the bridge, entering the mist with hands interlaced.   ... ..   “I haven’t been here in so long.” Your eyes are searching for the forest, feeling the luscious grass beneath your body. Technically, this is the first time you’ve ever been in this lifetime. But you also know vaguely from your spotty memory and the records Hyowon has read that you’ve been to the mortal realm a little over a century ago.   Taehyung stands up, putting out his hand and you take it, letting him bring you to your feet. You’re in the same place where Taehyung was after you forcibly sent him back; in the middle of nowhere, the thick woods that seem endless, grand trees that tower above you. Yet, instead of feeling bitter about the memory, Taehyung’s overjoyed that you’re here with him.   “When was the last time?”   “A bit before the war.” You dust off your cloak, letting him lead the way out of the forest since he’s been here before. “I wasn’t allowed to come back during or after the war.”   Taehyung reaches out to hold your hand and he laces his fingers between yours. “Why not?”   “Oh, someone made me mad and I accidentally struck him with lightning,” you mention nonchalantly and his brows raise, eyes staring at your profile. “It’s not a big deal, but apparently that human wasn’t anyone either. He was a very important general. Some general of the Midland…”   “You mean, Minseok, General of the Midland Wars?” When you say ‘something like that’ and you laugh, Taehyung’s face pales. Now he understands why you were banned from here. “You won’t get into any trouble?”   “Nah….probably not.” Well, that’s super reassuring. But before Taehyung can ask anymore questions, you stop and gasp, pulling him in a different direction. “Look it’s the sunrise!”   Above the small hill is a clearing, enough to see the sky and the watercolours of mandarin and rose bleeding together. The beams of golden sparkling light rises over the horizon, piercing the few fluffy clouds that are scattering around. You two watch the quiet sunrise together, leaning on each other, hands still held together. The forest is put in a serenity, animals awakening, birds still stirring and not yet chirping. It’s peaceful and within ten minutes, it’s sunny and bright outside.   “Seokjin still does a good job,” you muse. “Looks like he won’t lose his job any time soon.”   Soon, you’re led to the nearest town. No one recognizes Taehyung, of course. This time he isn’t wandering around starving, wearing rags, hair drenched like he just went swimming. But instead of relishing in the bustle of the streets, the numerous street vendors, the crowd of people just like him weaving in and out, he spends his time staring at you.   You have to admit you’re overwhelmed. You’re fascinated, curiosity piqued, your eyes beginning to hurt because your pupils are darting everywhere, trying to take everything in. Every noise and every smell has your head swiveling over and Taehyung is reduced to being dragged along.   “What’s that?” You point and he squeezes your hand, making sure not to let go since he’s afraid he’ll lose you in the horde of people.   “It’s a honey bun. It’s similar to bread. Do you want some?”   “I don’t know. Looks sort of good.” You shrug and when you turn your head, you gasp, pulling him to the other stand and pointing at the sparkling, red hanging thing. “What’s that?”   “It’s a paper lantern,” he tells you. “People decorate it sometimes.”   “And that?”   “They’re leather loafers.”   “How fascinating. And what about that?”   Taehyung’s not sure if you’re paying attention to him, realizing that he’s holding your hand, walking alongside you. At the moment, he feels more like a book of definitions or a glossary of some sort. He doesn’t mind so much though, he just enjoys how hyperactive and excited you are.   “Move out of the way,” a stranger grunts and collides his shoulder with yours, shoving past.   You’re pushed, stumbling before Taehyung catches you. Not a second later, you’re whirling around. “How dare you?! Do you know who I am?! I am the Go—”   Your human companion slaps a hand over your mouth and lugs you away before the brute can turn around in fury and ask you who the hell you think you are. He brings you near an alleyway and you peel Taehyung’s palm off of you. “What was that?!”   “You can’t get into any fights,” he chides you. He knows if push comes to shove, he could probably knock anyone out for you with his fists, but if a fight ensues, then your emotions will become deranged and the weather would follow. Not only would Hyowon and Kayee lose their minds but the consequences of the council probably wouldn’t be pretty. He’d rather save you that pain.   “But...but..” You pout and your eyes trail elsewhere, off to the other side of the street way towards the other opening of the alley. There are two people giggling and tugging each other, looking much like you and Taehyung, but then they do something that ignites your interest.   “Taehyung,” you call him affectionately and your head quirks to one side. “….what are they doing?”   He follows your line of sight to the road across and immediately, his skin flushes, eyes growing wide before he tears his gaze away. “They’re...uh...kissing each other.”   Oh. You’ve seen Miyin and the other gods smooch each other, but you never paid no mind to it. They were wild and mindless when indulging in pleasure. You didn’t think it was a human thing too.   “What’s it for? I mean...what does it do?”   “It’s a gesture…” Taehyung’s cheeks heat up immensely and he swallows hard, eyes momentarily flickering to your soft lips. “...to show someone you love them.”   “Oh, okay. I see,” you nod, finally looking back at him. Seems like you’re content with his answer, and he’s ready for you to take off again. But then you reach up and his breath is literally stolen right from his lips. Taehyung remains still, eyes open, caught off guard when you kiss him.   It’s a chaste brush of your mouth upon his, delicate and gentle. It’s soft, full of hesitancy like you aren’t sure you’re doing any of this right or maybe you’re completely wrong. You aren’t even touching him, but he can feel the warmth of your skin spread throughout his own body.   When you part, your lashes flutter a few times and you steal a peek at him. “Um...—”   But you don’t get the chance to say anything. Not when Taehyung’s arm instantly wraps around your waist, pressing you against the small of your back, and he pulls you in for another kiss.   Like a man starved, he ravishes you with his lips. You squeak against him in surprise and a groan spills from where your mouth meets his as if you’re trying to whimper his name and it only eggs him on. He kisses you and kisses you deeply, moving his lips against yours and tasting everything you have to offer. Taehyung’s eyes remain slightly open, watching as you melt in his embrace, the way your brows loosen, how you’re reduced into a sheepish mess.   He can’t help himself, can’t help how eager he is, how aggressive he’s become, pushing his body against yours until your back hits the stone wall. Your lifted hand eventually touches his shoulder, fingers uncurling to touch him, yet another whimper sounding from your throat. It’s hot and breathy and by the time you’ve both parted from each other, your mouths are bitten and red, and you’re gasping for breath.   “Um...I…”   The sky is blazing with sunlight, sky such a vivid shade of azure that it’s blinding. There’s a soft tinge of pink to the clouds, the same shade made on his cheeks. Taehyung’s gaze is piercing yours, intense, and it makes you divert your vision elsewhere, still panting.   “Come on.” Taehyung takes your hand, holding it again and he leads you out of the alley with a stupidly big smile on his face. You only nod along, letting him pull you away. ‘Let’s go.”   //   The next interesting thing you see, you don’t hesitate to ask.   “What’s that?” Though, by the time the question leaves you, you kind of already know the answer. There’s a young girl walking alongside another man in fancy attire, both stealing glimpses of each other with repressed smiles. A whole band of people follow them and the priest leads the entire line. It’s a celebration. It’s a—   “Wedding,” he says. “It’s a wedding.”   Unlike kisses, you know weddings well. A lot of gods wed to each other, more for political and harmony purposes than because of any feelings or emotions. Usually they are only husband and wife in name and seeked pleasures elsewhere. After all, the idea of having only one partner for the rest of eternity sounded like a horrid punishment to most.   While you might agree that the human idea of monogamy is absolutely constricting and suffocating to you, right now, you couldn’t deny you were...interested.   “Hey…” You tug on your held hands, fingers tapping the back of his hand.   “Hmm?” Taehyung moves his eyes away from the scene towards you.   “What if we got married?”   If you’re going to be with him for the rest of your days and his, then it makes sense to get married. Plus, in that way, the other gods will know exactly who he belongs to and no one like Miyin can ever lay her hands on him again. You’re still bitter at the thought of her.   At first Taehyung’s caught off guard and then he’s not sure why he’s shocked after all the activities of today. He explains that usually family and friends gather, and they ask permission from parents first. You merely shrug, telling him you have no family, except for Kayee and Hyowon. When you ask him if you need to ask his mom, he laughs and shakes his head.   “Excuse me…” Taehyung approaches the priest in the temple.   He turns, eyes glancing at the human and then you whose face is covered by a hood. It’s not like he would ever recognize you anyways. Technically, Seokjin could go prancing out on the road and no one would ever suspect he’s a god...except they’d oogle at his good looks. Those thoughts brushed aside, the priest clears his throat.   “What is it that you need?”   You lift your interlaced hands up, beaming with the biggest of grins. There’s no need for a big party or celebration. You don’t need for fancy clothing or a feast to accompany the ceremony. All you want and need is already right here. “Can we be wedded too?”   The priest is taken back by the abrupt request. You and Taehyung exchange smiles, laughing with each other, embracing the spontaneity of it all.   //   When Kayee and Hyowon awake from their slumber, they find the place strangely quiet. It wasn’t typical for it to be so peaceful. They even share a cup of tea together in the kitchen, relishing in the serenity until they realize just how bizarre it is. Usually they can hear Taehyung’s obnoxious laughter or your giggles or your shouts, scoldings and his whining. There’s always someone chasing someone else around here.   And when Kayee expresses this thought, they both go running.   “They’re not in the garden house! Or the garden!”   “Well I searched both floors of the palace. There’s nothing! Oh gods!”   If there was still hair on their heads, not being pulled out by fistfuls or falling from stress, then it’s all turned into shades of grey. The only way they know you’re safe is by how bright and cloudless the sky is, but that doesn’t help with anything else. They’re losing their minds, wondering how they got into the position of being your guides and helpers, wondering where you and Taehyung were.   It’s not until evening that you appear from over the bridge.   “Where were you?!” Hyowon is shrieking, throwing away all thoughts of respect away, looking at you two up and down and making sure you’re still all in one shape.   Kayee is out of breath, having ran all the way to the gardens and your two servants stare up at you, eyes wide for an answer or response to where you disappeared off to for the entire day.   You only smile at them, cheeks aching from laughing all day. The sun nearly blinds all of them. “Oh, you know, we went to the human world...and oh yeah…” You lift your held hands, fingers still laced together, and a simple band decorating your ring fingers. “We got married.”   “WHAT?!”

Life with Taehyung is something you cannot find words to describe.   The air feels less lonely, less crisp then it used to. Of course, as bright and sunny as most days are, he’s stupidly frustrating enough to make the sky pour of rain every so often. As afraid as you are of what will happen in the future, of how things will change in the kingdom of Heaven and the mortal realm, Taehyung reassures you and gives you a peace of mind.   You’re still not sure why he has the sword that Miyin gave him, you’re not even sure why he swings it around in his free time but it’s amusing to watch. You don’t know what exactly happened in the Underworld when he was out of sight, but something inside tells you there’s nothing to worry about.   Taehyung will be here for a long time.   And even if something were to happen, even if your husband and you are parted, you have a feeling that everything will be fine. He’ll be here. As long as you cherish the many days that are left to come.   “Can you stop moving so much?” He turns to you, rolling over on his side and speaking up in the darkness when the covers won’t stop rustling.   “I can’t!” You laugh giddily. “I’m still too excited to sleep.”   Laying beside him was doing too much to your heart and you’re sure the weather was chaotic outside right now, much to the other gods’ dismay. Yet, Taehyung doesn’t seem to care when he lifts himself on one elbow and cowers over you, getting closer and closer.   “You know…” His tone drops until it’s low and raspy. “We still have to consummate the marriage.”   You freeze, breath stopping, finally halting in movement. And he laughs, taking the liberty to reach down and plant a soft kiss on your lips. It was ridiculous how much you love him.   Instead of blue, the sky might turn into a permanent shade of rose.

[wackygoofball]

Can you tell us why you’re so positive? I’m having a hard time imagining any positive scenario with Jaime being dead now but I wasn’t wondering what you’re hoping for in the last episode that we can hope for

Well, my positivity comes from the very fact that no matter what, I have an awesome fandom experience. I made the most amazing friends with whom I now share connections reaching beyond the shipping material of my choice, JB. I’ve had and continue to have illuminating and interesting discussions, share in crazy theories, make fun edits and enjoy my wacky life. I never had that until I was guided to the beacon of hope of the JB fandom, and now that I am a part of it, I wouldn’t want to miss a single thing.

So I don’t really see why I would be feeling negatively? Why I would lose all hope, fall into despair, curl in on myself ino a tiny wacky ball, and never dip my toes into the JB fandom again… I can’t see it because I have those things and literally no one other than myself can take them away from me again.

It’s actually the exact opposite for me. I may have come to the fandom because of JB, but I stayed for the whole package. I stayed for the social and emotional connections I made with fellow shippers. I stayed for the debates, not just about JB but all kinds of things. I stayed for the fun and the fanfic, for the gift challenges and roundrobins, for the fanvids and latenight chats.

And so I continue to stay for my friends, I continue to stay for what we canonically have and what can otherwise be explored within the realms of fanon, fanfiction, fanart, and the like.

Because, to me, being part of the JB fandom grew to be so much more than being a fan of Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth, it was becoming a part of a community I don’t want to lose ever again.

But now, I guess your question is more aimed towards what gives me hope for show *canon* turning out satisfactory for JB in any so such way, considering the current… brick odds. Since that post turned out longer than it should (it’s currently 3.00 a.m. and I should be sleeping… so please excuse additonal rambling), I will put this below the cut:

I mean… let’s go through the scenarios from worst case to best case (at least some, there are too many variants to list, really), but for the sake of the argument, let’s roll with the following selection:

1) Even if show canon now ends with Jaime having died last episode and that being the end of it, I have all the opportunity in the world to read and write fix it fanfic and theorize about those what ifs canon would then have left unexplored. So I don’t see why I would be angsting about it. I’ve been to other fandoms before, I shipped pairings I either knew would never become canon or was iffed about when they did not. However, that then leaves me with the sometimes hard but productive task of going back over my earlier theories and see where I went wrong, perhaps, in my analyses to draw the wrong conclusions, where I may have led my shipper goggles distort the source material too much. That can be a kind of painful experience, but it can also be greatly rewarding as it can help me sharpen my views for future analyses of other source materials I may come to enjoy. However, even if we stick to the in-canon expectations here. JB have made love to each other, more than once. They had a beautiful journey together and unless Bran sets it all back in time and we start over somewhere else, no one can take that away from us ever again. And that is amazing.

2) A more hopeful scenario: Jaime still stays dead but either through Tyrion or Bran we at least get the in-canon acknowledgement that Jaime *was* in love with Brienne and also went off to King’s Landing to protect her. Imagine, for instance, a scenario whereby he was being told that Brienne bears his child now. Jaime may have felt like he was a danger to that child (considering the Bronn situation) and/or may have found himself unworthy of that kind of life and may have wished to remove himself from the equation. He may even have been pushed into it by Bran in a number of ways. That would at least give us some kind of closure. It may stil hurt as hell, but the one thing that lies in the air in the narrative at present is that neither Jaime nor Tyrion, in any fashion, addressed his relationship with Brienne. Tyrion didn’t even bring it up during their conversation in the tent, which I would have fully expected as the show bothered to have Tyrion in the know about Jaime’s relationship with Brienne. Why didn’t he ask him something along the lines of “Why do you want to die with Cersei now? You had something good there with Brienne, it made you happy. Why did you just leave that behind?” But no such conversaion took place. Why? I don’t know. I remain puzzled about it. And that is where I am curious to know whether there is something else to that other than “we didn’t have the time to address that” or “we forgot/didn’t bother” storytelling-wise.

3) Jaime may still die but he is not dead as per status of episode 5. He will die of the injuries, but not until Brienne held him in her arms (”to die in the arms of the woman I love” as opposed to holding his sister in what I truly found a way of him acting like a brother to her who was trying to console a hysteric woman who knew she was close to dying and became younger and younger inside her mind the deeper they went). Still all the more tragic, still would suck ass for Brienne as she would have the Renly scenario almost exactly as before, but she held Jaime before he died. They made love before that. So this may at least be the acknowledgement that by the end of the day, Jaime and she had something true, but that circumstances kept them apart and that Jaime would have liked to stay with her in another life, if only life hadn’t made him make certain choices that led down this road.

Now we dig into the really more hopeful scenarios that suggest he is not dead. There are reasons that support this thesis (I don’t call authority to them as, per Occam’s razor, the simplest solutions are ofentimes those that hold the greatest truth). So again, I am not holding my breath for any of those options, all that is to say is that the options *exist*. That is not to fall into hopeful hyping, only to be disappointed if it does not come around, but plainly pointing out arguments that support the thesis.

Reasons that may be used in support of the hypothesis:

a) the show’s really outdone itself to stick a letter to Jaime’s back reading “dead man walking”: Brienne assumed he’d ride to KL to die with his sister, Tyrion said he’d die, Jaime said he’d die, Euron said he’s the one who killed Jaime Lannister, Cersei saw his wounds and kind of implied “you ded”, and then bricks ex machina. Like. Say it one time, foreshadowing, perhaps. Say it two times to make sure. But 4 fuckin’ times is like beating us with a stick.

b) This show has had characters survive despite greater injuries, and now I am not even pointing to Jonesus or Daenerys being fireproof in the show. Remember how Arya got stabbed repeatedly, fell into the water and bled out fast and still she did fine and later on did parkour with the Waif and killed her? Good times. Jon, even after the Julius Caesar stabbination, had it a lot of times when he he should have been dead of injuries and/or pneumonia (see Suicide Squad Beyond the Wall). Arya had buildings drop on her and fire spew at her the whole episode and she got the pale horse showing he the way out (I still hope the horse is Jaqen H’ghar). Tyrion had a ship’s mast drop on him and he did not die. List goes on and on and on. Also, Euron brought a long ice pick to a sword fight. Dude may have missed some major arteries, is all I’m saying.

c) Speaking of injuries, what was the point of having him gravely injured, for what looked and sounded like at least 1 collapsed lung and his kidneys likely looking like a pincushion? The guy still made it all the way up to the map room and then all the way down again without breaking down just once. While Cersei had a sudden unexpected surge of caring for the dude she sent an assassin after not long ago (seriously, let’s never forget that tidbit), the blood on his shirt was not as much as I would have expected from the injuries he’s received. But more to the point: Why have him so gravely injured if the upshot was, all along, he gets there, they get trapped, and then they die together. Why go through the lengths of having Jaime so greatly injured if there is no pay off for him dying of those injuries? Why is it then death by bricks? Why the overkill? I find it odd, is all.

d) There was no single verbal or otherwise recognition by either Jaime or Tyrion about the JB relationship. There was no “tell her I am sorry” or “Could you send her a raven on my behalf?” Nothing. They didn’t even mention her.

e) Jaime seemed awfully jumpy with his reasoning for being there. First he says the odds are even and Cersei may win, implying that he’d want to support Cersei against Daenerys in some way, or rather, keep damage at a minimum by trying to ensure his sister doesn’t pull anything that puts the people in danger. Then Tyrion goes on about how Daenerys will win and Cersei will die. Jaime switches back to Tyrion’s (and Brienne’s) suggestion of him wanting to die by Cersei’s side, which is contrary to his first statement. Then Tyrion points to the people. He says he doesn’t care. Which directly contradicts what he did to save the people of King’s Landing when he slew Aerys. For the sake of that argument, let’s just never forget that Jaime Lannister is one of those characters who builds on “say one thing, mean the other” many, many times. Why am I to assume that there is no hint of that in this cryptic converstaion he’s having with his brother?

f) Why does Tyrion try to get a promise out of Jaime to get Cersei and himself out of KL with the boat? Why does he make him swear? Shouldn’t pointing out the opportunity be enough to convince Jaime to go with it?

g) Others have theorized about it before, I also came back to it. There still is the BATB trope that JB have been following *a lot*. And by that I mean their trajectories were largely reliant on it. Now of course, just because characters are inspired by a trope doesn’t mean the author/writer is obligated to continue it till the very end, but it’s odd how we’ve been following almost all beats, only to stop at what would now be the fakeout death of Beast for Beast to be reborn.

h) Outside of what’s going on within the show’s narrative - NCW’s been all kinds of excited about his arc in season 8, and he’s expressed frustration before, which nearly always related to Jaime staying with his sister for longer than is necessary. This scenario, as it stands right now… does that sound like something NCW would be totally hyped about? I don’t really know. Also, the guy’s been seemingly gagged by HBO in some basement full of free T-shirts since there are no goodbye interviews as we have seen them for Conleth, Pilou and Lena. We only got a couple of instagram posts, but other than that? Am I the only one getting the “Jon Snow is totally dead, guys!” vibes? Perhaps to throw us off, but again, it is something that would support the hypothesis.

i) While we now got a MUCH darker Daenerys *ahem*, and it may well be that she will be wiped off the slate next episode, but that’s another topic… isn’t it AWFULLY neat how that basically removed “all the bad guys” from the narrative? Gregor dead, Euron dead, Qyburn dead, Cersei dead (furthermore, look at all the other baddies we put in the ground, and even those with redemption like Theon are now biting the dust). And then we have Jaime. A character who’s been hated by most for what he did to Bran and for the incesting, a character who continued to be hated by many parts of the viewership based on that, no matter the deeds he did thereafter. The point being, it seems awfully convenient if all the “good guys” lived and all the “bad guys” of varying degrees were to die. GRRM aimed for that bit of dramatic fantasy realism where we have morally gray characters, some grayer than others. Odd enough that this would leave much of the so-perceived morally more or less sound members of the clan right where they are. If I were writing such a thing, I’d keep some of those ambivalent characters, if only to show that the good vs. bad dichotomy does not hold in the real world and that in the real world, sometimes, do not only good guys die but also not-always-good-guys live.

j) What was Jaime’s plan? While he came back to “I am the stupidest Lannister”, Jaime is… not. He outsmarted Tyrion in terms of battle tactics. He is a gifted commander. He certainly is not as dumb as Cersei claimed him to be as she herself was not always the brightest pebble with an evil T’Pol haircut. He’s covered his hand with the glove when he rode away from King’s Landing at the end of season 7. He covered it again until he came back into King’s Landing and then took it off, for what it seems in the hope to use it as a VIP card to get the soldiers’ attention and thus entry into the Red Keep. That means he was in possession of the glove by the time he was captured by Daenerys’s forces. Why would he not wear it, then? Did he want to be caught? Why would he? Was he told by someone with the power of foresight that he needed to be there, that he needed to learn what signal was to be given (the bells) in order to give order to have them ring? We don’t know if he gave the order, but it’s not unlikely. Did he have a plan he didn’t let on even in front of his brother? Was there information Jaime protected and was that the reason why he seemed somewhat off? Who knows. Only the next episode will tell.

k) We are still due some kind of a reaction from Brienne.

l) Where the fuck is Widow’s Wail?

m) Why did the show bother giving us JB making love and playing house if the entire idea was to have him run back to his sister and just die by bricks? Why wait with this till the very last episode, to make it, for all it seems, the literal FINAL big bang of the series?

n) There is something to be said about how realism is not just “everyone dies and all is terrible”. Right now… everything is. We are in worst case scenario land for basically everyone. Jon became complicit in a mass murder, he could not prevent what Jaime did when he slew Aerys before he could nuke the city. Daenerys… committed a mass murder (she lost everyone safe for angry Greyworm and and is now a Queen of the Ashes). Cersei was cast down. Jaime coudln’t make his happiness with Brienne, for all it seems. Varys, for now, it seems, is proven right in that he hoped to be proven wrong and that shit would not go down like it did. Tormund won’t ever get his Emobear back. Bran is an emotional vegetable. Arya just had houses drop on her. Sandor died in fire, aka his worst enemy. Sansa may just have helped put Jon and/or Arya in danger if Daenerys continues to be crazypants. Hundreds and thousands of people got burned, injured, raped, murdered, kabloomed. Tyrion may just have lost his entire family, may still face the wrath of his Queen and continues to be kind of a stupid idiot. This is not some balanced kind of scenario of good and bad, this is just… bad.

o) If we only consider POV characters from the books, there are only three pairings where they are both major POV characters, the three Jays: JC, JD, and JB. And of those two… two are varying degrees of incest, as Varys would otherwise point out to you, and the other barely left the ground before bricks came raining from the sky. The point being… am I to believe that no single 2-POV-romance has any kind of a future? I find it odd.

The list could probably be longer but I am getting tired here. Suffice to say there are a number of reasons that *support* such a hypothesis.

Back on target of scenarios that give me hope - the Jaime lives somehow edition:

4) We may still be in for a Branception. He may pull back time and try to right things (he may also turn out the ultimate villain whose only goal, from the beginning, was to obtain the IT for all we know). He may have seen the worst case scenario unfold as we saw it now, and we may go back to him trying to make it right this time. But those are scenarios that involve a kind of mojo that continues to leave me far too baffled to dive into further. Suffice to say, he may have his hands in that somehow. 

5) Suppose both of them survive somehow. Further imagine a scene of someone waking up on a boat, blinded for a moment, only to come around and look at a very scowling Brienne of Tarth, only to realize that yup, we are seeing things through Jaime’s eyes. And as he turns around he sees a dishevelled but alive sister in the boat, and a very pissed off sellsword turned assassin who complains about how he did not sign up for nearly getting buried alive in those tunnels if not for that warrior woman forcing him to wait out there and pull Jaime and Cersei to safety in the skulls or whatever else when it mattered. Evidently, this would have to be followed by some kind of trial for Cersei as she remains a shitshow of a person who held a city hostage, kabloomed a sept because she could and smirkily drank wine while doing so and gettting helluva murderboners over this. AKA her ending with Jaime still sounds to me as far too nice for a woman who’s done so much horrible when there was no need for it and did nothing really other than supposedly being pregnant with a child (will continue to believe that it is/was a tumor until I’m proven otherwise… even then I will stick to it because history parallels are awesome!) to deserve a “nice” and somewhat comforting exit with her brother by her side, without a single sign of acknowledgement of her being a shitshow of a person. Anyway, that leads too far astray. The point remains on the idea that I wouldn’t even exclude Cersei living at least for a longer while (end of episode 6), but ultimately proving that Jiame will outlive her (as was kind of hinted at by the book’s weirwood dream).

6) Since we have Davos and Tyrion in place as well as a body that conveniently is deposited near the Red Keep now and maches in height and so and such, and since Daenerys would not want to see Jaime Lannister alive right now… how about the good old switch game? Demolish Euron’s dead face a bit more, cut off a hand, stick the golden one on, maybe crispy him a bit more and present that to Daenerys. Would she ask questions beyond that? The point being, I can perfectly see a scenario whereby Jaime will emerge from the rubble (either by sheer luck or by having dived or been pulled into one of the dragon skulls) or will be pulled ou of it, and everyone has to be quick to get rid of him to hide him from Daenerys’s wrath. Off into a boat and let him be brought somewhere to heal and live a silent life where nobody knows what became of him. Tarth is supposed to be beautiful around the season, hm? 

7) Brienne pulls Jaime from the rubble. He explains himself to her, believing he is about to die, just that he isn’t. Maybe he will ogle at her, going on about how Bran even told him how he was destined to die and how there was no future beyond (for him). Only for Brienne to drop it on him that there is, if he decides to live at last because sure as hell she won’t be taking care of a kid they both made and have responsibility to. Perhaps Jaime recognizing that Bran hinted at that the baby he was referring to was not Cersei’s (if there is) but Brienne’s. And that all that needed to happen so he could be reborn.

8) Jaime being the one to ring the bells becoming some kind of unsung hero alongside Brienne if she has any part in getting rid of the current usurper. Imagine Brienne badass-single-handedly getting rid of the living nuke aka dragon.

9) In a scneario whereby Jon offs Daenerys or Daenerys offs off to Essos and Jon does not push the claim… and if we hopefully overlook Gendry because the guy should not be assigned manager jobs he does no have the expertise for (*eye roll*) - I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Gendry but he is by no means a politician or anything close to it… just briefly imagine of the reborn Jaime Lannister, the former Kingslayer, suddenly being confronted with the reality that he is heir to the Iron Throne. Just for funsies. Hm?

10) All ends with Jaime waking up next to Brienne, dozing in bed with their ten kids sleeping in the other rooms of Evenfall Hall, going like “Brienne, honey, I just had the shittiest dream ever.” And then the two cuddle.

Yeah no, for real now though. I can spin myself more scenarios than that, all of which bear hope in some capacity, both within the canon as well as how I have set up my shipping habits. Which means I basically feel invincible right now. The worst that can happen is that I am dissatisfied with how their arcs will conclude, in which case I still have my community and fanfic to fix it. If it ends tragically but at least with recognition of feelings for one another, I will be sad but satisfied. If Jaime survives at least long enough to see Brienne one more time, I will cry like a baby but I will be okay because it will make clear where his heart was at last. and how it will always be hers. If it’s one of the more and most positive scenarios, I will be a happy customer and may gloat more than I should.

My most basic hope is that we get coherence where I currently find myself confused as to where the narrative is heading. There are things I don’t understand or can’t currently, based on the limited information we have, make sense of. I would hope for the show to clear up that much.

My more elaborate hope is that we get the confirmation of their mutual feelings for one another. That can go a multitude of ways, as outlined above, but that’s something I would really want/need to feel like their arcs came full circle, even if Jaime winds up dead.

My HYPE hopes are of course the rebirth scenarios. I don’ find them unlikely, but I don’t hold my breath for them to happen. If they do, I am happy. If they don’t, I won’t be disappointed enough to be sadder than I ought to be. I will try my best to use it as inspiration for fanart, fanfic, and editing.

So yeah… how can I go wrong? How can I be anything but hopeful? I hope for the best, accept the worst if it comes, and simply go on with my fandom life because that is the important aspect about it for me personally. I have amazing friends in this fandom and I can look back on years of one of the best shipping rides I ever undertook. We are canon in every sense of the term and that can’t be taken away from us (as someone once said so elegantly: you can’t unfuck someone). So my hopes are that I simply get to go on enjoying my fandom life in this fandom, then waiting for the books and taking the liberty to dissect the narrative in the light of its full context instead of only ever theorizing based on limited information. My hope is to continue to have awesome, inspiring, and productive discussions and theories and headcanons.

Those are my hopes, and I don’t see how they will ever be disappointed, no matter what may happen in the show next week, or in the infinity and beyond it will take for GRRM to finish those books. And I think that’s not just wishful thinking because the power to remain hopeful actually lies with me. I am the master of my shipping experience, of my fandom life, and as such, I can have all the positivity no matter the canon outcomes.

So yeah, I am a happy Wacky right now and I will continue to be.

And I do hope that some of that positivity will reach you, anon, and anyone else currently feeling like… a bunch of bricks are raining down on them. Sorry, I have to cut back on those puns, I know.

Anyway. To close now.

I am hopeful because I put my hope in my fandom experience, and in that way I cannot possibly lose - and anyone who decides to follow down the same path, you can’t lose either! So how about we continue to win together? I’d very much like that.

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x04 (part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – freaky old mansion library. Darius is sitting on a couch having a gin and reading what seems to be a really old book, the door opens… Matt enters.

DARIUS: Sheriff Donovan, I’ve been expecting you…

MATT: I know… (hands him an engraved wooden black box, then walks away).

 Cut to – Whitmore College, Elena’s dorm, early morning. 

Elena wakes up with a terrible hang-over. Bonnie hands her 2 aspirins and a glass of water.

BONNIE: Here, take these.

ELENA: Thank you, Bon… Listen, I’m really sorry about last night, I was way out of line… a royal bitch, really… I’m sorry.

BONNIE: Don’t sweat it, it happens sometimes… what’s important is that you figure out what you want and go for it… O.K.?

CAROLINE: And maybe stay away from shots for a while… (they laugh)

ELENA: I love you guys so much… Sure you can’t stay a bit longer?

CAROLINE: We’d love to, but we need to head back. We’ll see each other at our Halloween/reunion party, right? You better come!! And bring Sam!

ELENA: I wouldn’t miss it; and yes, I’ll bring Sam but only if you promise not to tease him the entire night!

CAROLINE: I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.

BONNIE: Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Care… (Caroline winks, they hug and say their goodbyes).

Cut to - Salvatore mansion, later that morning. Damon comes into Stefan’s room. 

DAMON: I hate to say I told you so… but I told you so! Bitch is gone and took my car! My car, Stefan!

STEFAN: (Still snoozed, lying in bed) Wait, what? No… she wouldn’t…

DAMON: Did becoming a human, dying and resurrecting give you brain damage? I can’t believe I let you do this! I knew this was gonna happen and yet I chose to give you the benefit of the doubt… Now, zombie Kat is out there somewhere, driving my car! My car Stefan! I and only I can drive my car!!

STEFAN: (Mocking) Bonnie can drive your car…

DAMON: Shut up…

Katherine walks in with a bag of bagels.

 KATHERINE: Bagels, anyone? Got them fresh from the store… 

Oh, Damon (throws him his car keys), I hope you don’t mind, I took your car… (winks). By the way, it’s a piece of crap… 

Anyway, I’ll leave them in the kitchen, but don’t take too long; I swear, this coming back to life thing makes me so freaking hungry! (Walks out).

STEFAN: (To Damon) You were saying?... Now, please leave, I need more shut-eye.  

DAMON: (As he is walking out) Maybe not today Stefan but trust me, it will happen.

STEFAN: Shot the door on your way out! (Damon leaves it open to spite him; minutes later, Stefan hears Caroline yelling).

CAROLINE: Oh, no, are you freaking kidding me! Who the hell unleashed the stray cat!!!!!

STEFAN: (To himself) Oh, no… (gets out of bed, Caroline vamps her way into the room).

CAROLINE: Care to explain to me why the psycho bitch devil is calmly eating bagels in my kitchen?  

STEFAN: (Trying to be funny) She was hungry?

CAROLINE: Stefan! What’s going on?! Talk, now!

STEFAN: Care, I know it’s a risk, but she can help and right now we need all the hands we can get to pull this off…

CAROLINE: I know we do, but we can’t trust her! It’s too risky.

STEFAN: It’s just as risky as trusting Klaus…

CAROLINE: That’s a low blow…

STEFAN: Listen, Care, do you trust me?

CAROLINE: You know I do, so what’s your point?

STEFAN: I promise to make sure she doesn’t pull a Katherine… but we can use her help; plus, we might be surprised, maybe she is capable of changing, right the wrongs… we’ve all done some pretty horrible stuff and we found it within ourselves to be better…

CAROLINE: Well, you do make a good point. Fine, I will accept as long as you make sure she doesn’t make any trouble! I swear, I will break her neck at the first sign of deviation.

STEFAN: Deal! (They kiss).

CAROLINE: Let me talk to Bonnie before she takes care of Katherine on her own terms. Oh, and start getting ready for the memorial.

STEFAN: Sure… what about the twins, did you talk to them?

CAROLINE: We did, they can’t wait to see you. (Kisses him, then leaves).

Cut to – Damon and Bonnie talking in the living room.

 DAMON: He’s crazy, am I right?

BONNIE: He is. But I get where he’s coming from.

DAMON: Bon-Bon, this is Katherine we are talking about, the badest bitch of all!

BONNIE: I know but people can change, Damon; I mean, you did… so, there might be some hope…

DAMON: Well, can’t argue with that but I’m still not trusting her.

BONNIE: Oh, hell no; it’s one thing to be hopeful, another to be stupid.

DAMON: Anyway, how did it go with Elena, is she on board?

BONNIE: No, we had to abort mission, she’s going through an existential phase so we thought it would be best to leave her out of this one.

DAMON: But this is a huge one Bon, we can use as much help as we can get.

BONNIE: I know, but she needs a time out.

DAMON: Ok. Listen, Bon, I talked to Alaric about what we saw in that book… he thinks it has something to do with this crazy-ass cult called The Liberatus, Radka is helping him decipher an ancient scripture that might just hold the key to what we are looking for…

BONNIE: The Liberatus? I’ve heard that name before… or read it somewhere? Yes… I think I saw something about them in one of the Bennion’s grimoires… not sure.

DAMON: You probably did, Bon. The source… the link…  the Bennion coven… this freak cult… Darius… you… it’s all connected, we just need to figure out how…

BONNIE: Maybe Klaus’s house guest can tell us more?

DAMON: I’m sure she can… Batman & Robin team-up?

BONNIE: (Gives him a smirk) Oh, for sure!…

(After they finish their drink, she gets up) Well, come on Robin, let’s go fight some crime (mocking him).

DAMON: Robin? Oh, no, no, no…

I’m Batman! I’m Batman, Bon! Bats are associated with vampires and pretty birds with witches…

BONNIE: Pretty birds with witches, really? Ah…no. I’m Batman, and I get to drive the “batmobile”, so… (signals him to give her the car keys)

DAMON: (Rolls his eyes with resignation, give her his keys) Fine, but I get dibs on the music!

BONNIE: (Mocking) I’m pretty sure they don’t play Boyz II Men on the radio anymore…

DAMON: That was Stefan’s!

BONNIE: (Still mocking) Yeah, sure… (laughs, they leave).

Cut to - Matt and Khuyana’s house. Ty and Khuyana are talking in the kitchen, Matt walks in.

 KHUYANA: Hey, sleepy head. Didn’t hear you come in last night. Want some breakfast? More like late lunch…

MATT: Sorry, I got home really late, the Mayor needed my help with some things.

TYLER: I see exploitation is still a thing…

MATT: You know it. Listen, I have to go to the office, probably gonna be an all-nighter again. You two heading to the memorial?

KHUYANA: We are, aren’t you coming?

MATT: Sorry, I can’t, please tell Caroline and Radka I’m sorry…

KHUYANA: But you were the one that arranged everything… don’t you think it’s important you attend?

MATT: I do, but I really can’t (kisses her). I’m sorry, the Mayor needs me… and I need to pay the bills, you know?

KHUYANA: Fine, but they won’t be happy… and, we are supposed to team back afterward, grand plan and all, remember?

MATT: I do, please don’t make me feel worse than I already do… I’m working on my part of the plan, trust me.

TYLER: Sorry to change the subject, but you guys really don’t mind me staying here?

MATT: Ty, are you insane?! This is your house! If anything, we are the ones that should be looking for another place.

TYLER: No, this is now your house, I left it to you, Matt. I’ll find something else.

KHUYANA: Nonsense! You are staying here with us! This house is huge.

MATT: Yes Ty, you ain't going anywhere… this is our house.

TYLER: O.K., but if it gets awkward, let me know…

KHUYANA:  It won’t.

MATT: Great, so it’s settled then. I need to head out (kisses Khuyana, bro hugs Ty).

Cut to – Mikaelson mansion, Bonnie and Damon ring the doorbell, Klaus opens.

 KLAUS: I thought we were meeting later today, after the memorial? Did I miss something?

BONNIE: We need to talk to Danae, Aelish, or whatever her name is…

KLAUS: I’m afraid that won’t be possible, she is feeling under the weather.

DAMON: We really don’t care how she feels, get her, now.

KLAUS: Do you think just because you are some sort of vamperstain I feel threatened by you? (Lashes out at him) Know who you are talking to, Damon.

BONNIE: I suggest you do the same… (Displays her powers, brings him to the ground)

KLAUS: Bonnie… stop!

BONNIE: Get her down here, right now! (Attacks harder).

KLAUS: Stop! Bonnie… you’re killing me! She stops).

BONNIE: If I wanted you dead, you would be.

KLAUS: (As he recovers) Careful Bonnie, remember what we talked about… You seemed to have enjoyed that a bit too much… I will go get her.

DAMON: Bon, you O.K.? Gotta say that was pretty scary…

BONNIE: To be honest, I have no idea where that came from (looking concerned) … worst part is, I did enjoy it… feeling all that power… Damon, I’m worried…

DAMON: We’ll figure this out, Bon, I promise. Whatever is happening to you, we’ll find a way, we always do.

BONNIE: I really hope so cause I’m beginning to think Klaus maybe right… what if I can’t control it?

DAMON: You are much stronger than he thinks, you can do this, Bon. And, whatever happens, I’ll be with you every step of the way... I’m the Robin to your Batman, remember?... We got this. (Hugs her).

KLAUS: Oh, lovely (mocking); I figured you had better taste, Bonnie. A woman like you deserves a real man, not a child… Anyway, you may come in now, she is waiting in the living room… (Damon and Bonnie walk in).

DANAE: (To Bonnie) So, you are the precious “link”, I presume? You have no idea how long they have been searching for you… God damn the day you came into existence…

DAMON: Hey!

BONNIE: Listen, I’m just trying to figure out what all of this means…  I didn’t ask for any of it.

DANAE: Guess that’s true… I’m sorry, I just never thought this moment would actually come… that they would get away with it.

BONNIE: Who is, they?

DANAE: The Liberatus…

DAMON: So, they are real…

DANAE: Very much so; have been around for thousands of years. Generation after generation, they have been the puppet masters behind every single power structure, and responsible for the most heinous crimes humanity has ever seen. Rumor has it that Hitler was a Liberatus… they are obsessed with “cleansing” the world.

BONNIE: How come nobody knows about them?

DANAE: They have power over everything, never get their hands dirty, always have others do the dirty work for them and leave no traces that can connect back to them; that’s how they have managed to remain incognito this whole time.

BONNIE: And how are they involved with your coven?

DANAE: My ex coven, I don’t associate with psychopaths. (With disdain) That family was one of the founding members of the Liberatus…  

DAMON: One of? Who are the others?

DANAE: I don’t know. All I know is that the Liberatus are, beyond a doubt, lords and masters of the world… Absolutely everything is a chess piece in their board.

BONNIE: How can we stop them?

DANAE: (Laughs) Oh Bonnie, is that a serious question? You can’t.

BONNIE: I have all this new power, I’m pretty sure I can.

DANAE: You do, but this is not about that kind of power… you are a weapon to them, a very dangerous one, yes, but still just a weapon, which they can arm and disarm at their will.

BONNIE: I might be struggling to control this source thing, but I will not bend to their will.

DANAE: You won’t have a choice. You see, Bonnie, as supernatural beings we think we have power over humans because we have special powers that make us stronger, but we underestimate the human mind and what it’s capable of accomplishing… There are many highly intelligent humans with better tactics and strategy than most of us. They also have power, money, and therefore, access to very sophisticated and advanced technologies. And, let’s not forget, that they can be as ruthless, if not more, than any supernatural being.

DAMON: We don’t need a sermon on us vs. them, if you actually have any useful information, spit it out.

DANAE: As I said, that is all I know… But, Bonnie, you really need to be careful, that kind of power can make anyone go mad… Oh, and one other thing… don’t block your psychic powers because of your ethics, they can be very useful if you are attempting to fight them…

BONNIE: (Sarcastically) I’ll take that under consideration, thanks. (To Damon) Well, seems like that’s all the info we are going to get, so let’s go.

DANAE: As a closing note, some insight on my dear brother; you and Darius are the only psychic witches ever to exist, and it’s no coincidence you met. Trust that the bond you share will confuse you, and when the moment comes you might not be able to deliver the final blow…

BONNIE: Oh, I’ll deliver, don’t worry about that, but, thanks for the tip.

DANAE: You may be more powerful than him, but make no mistake, he is the master of illusion, and persuasion...

BONNIE: He’ s very good, no doubt. But I’m prepared this time.

DANAE: You better be... (Damon and Bonnie leave).

KLAUS: You didn’t tell them everything…

DANAE: I told them what they needed to know.

Cut to the Mayor’s office, Matt walks in.

 EDWARD: Sheriff, I trust you delivered my package?

MATT: It’s done.

EDWARD: Excellent, believe me, it’s for the best; keep your enemies, closer and all…

MATT: I don’t understand, we know where he is, why not just take him down right now?

EDWARD: Patience Sheriff, this is like a chess game, doesn’t matter how long it takes as long as it’s checkmate.

MATT: What about the rest of them?

EDWARD: Bring one down, bring all of them down.

MATT: Listen, I have to go back to the station, I still need to go through those documents…

EDWARD: Yes, please do, and let me know if you find what we are looking for. (As Matt is walking out) Sheriff, do you like clowns?

MATT: What?

EDWARD: Clowns… do you like them?

MATT: When I was little, I guess. Why?

EDWARD: Just curious... (Matt leaves).

 Cut to – Salvatore school, student’s memorial. The twins see Stefan and run to hug him.

 LIZ & JOSIE: Uncle Stefan!!!!

STEFAN: Girls!! I’m so happy to see you!!!

LIZZY: I can’t believe you are alive! Are you alive? (pinches him to make sure).

STEFAN: Ouch! (Laughs) Yes, yes, I am.

JOSIE: Please don’t leave us again!

STEFAN: I won’t, I promise. (they keep hugging).

KLAUS: Ah, isn’t this sweet? (To the girls) Hello ladies, delighted to see you.

LIZ & JOSIE: Uncle Klaus! (They hug him).

STEFAN: (To himself) Uncle Klaus?

KLAUS: What have my favorite twins been up to?

JOSIE: Learning some really cool magic stuff from Aunt Bonnie!

KLAUS: I’m glad, she is one, if not the best, so pay attention.

JOSIE: We always do.

KLAUS: Good for you.

LIZZY: Josie, come, let’s go get dad! (They leave).

STEFAN: Klaus, what are you doing here? We are supposed to be meeting later.

KLAUS: I came to pay my respects.

STEFAN: You didn’t even know them.

KLAUS: Well, neither did you… but this is important to Caroline so, here I am. (Caroline approaches them).

CAROLINE: Klaus, you came… Thank you.

KLAUS: Of course I did, you ask, I come… Plus, I would not miss an opportunity to see you in a black dress, love. (Stefan rolls his eyes).

CAROLINE: Come on you two, it’s about to start. Where the heck is Bonnie and Damon? They were supposed to be here over an hour ago!

KLAUS: They are not here yet? They left my house more than an hour ago…

STEFAN: They were at your house? Why?

KLAUS: Wanted, or rather demanded, to talk to my friend Danae.

CAROLINE: And? What happened?

KLAUS: Nothing, they talked, they left.

CAROLINE: (Calls Bonnie’s cell) Come on Bonnie, pick up (Damon and Bonnie arrive) Nevermind… (hangs up). Bonnie! Where were you?!

BONNIE: Sorry we’re late… we’ll talk later, O.K.?

CAROLINE: (Looks at Damon and Bonnie suspiciously) Oh, you bet we will! Everyone take a seat; the ceremony is about to start.

 The memorial is held, filled with kind words, tears and laughter.

 Cut to – Police Station, Matt in his office looking at some documents, a Police Officer knocks on his door.

 POLICE OFFICER: Sheriff, something came for you, can I come in?

MATT: Yes, come in. (Police Officer comes in).

POLICE OFFICER: Here (hands him an envelope).

MATT: Who sent this?

POLICE OFFICER: I don’t know, got delivered by mail. There is no name or forwarding address… (Matt takes the envelope).

MATT: Thank you Officer (the Officer leaves. Matt opens the envelope, it has an antique key engraved with the letter L and a hand-written scripted note with a date - October 31st, a time - 24:00 and some coordinates).

TO BE CONTINUED...

TVD 9x04 (part 2) coming soon! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

[proxylynn]

UNDERFELL: FILE NAME NOT EDGY ENOUGH part #6

Chapter 6: Door

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

It's been a week since the incident with Toriel. I have trained nonstop, practiced my magic, sat through Toriel's teachings, and even took some personal time to meditate on the chaos of my mind. I have done enough work to go up another stat level. I am now at HP 32, ATK 19, and DEF 13. Flowey tells me the next time my stats increase, I should get a point for more defense. I have done so much over so long...And yet after all that...All the things I've been distracting myself with...I've found myself standing at the fated door she fears. I know she says it leads to doom but I sense no danger about it. It just seems to be a normal exit. I'm just staring at it contemplating the idea of opening it over not bothering to. Why? Why am I compelled to be here so damn much? Why do I keep doing this? I could be doing something else, anything else for that matter. I could be reading, sleeping, thinking up new food plans, or even help Toriel with her snail hunts. So why...What's so god damn special about this fucking door?!

"Are you going to stare at it all day or open it?"

I don't even flinch at Flowey's voice, mostly because I'm the one that let him loose down here.

"I'm contemplating a Schrödinger's cat scenario."

"A what?"

"Schrödinger's cat is a thought experiment, sometimes described as a paradox. The scenario presents a cat that may be simultaneously both alive and dead, a state known as a quantum superposition, as a result of being linked to a random subatomic event that may or may not occur."

"Uh..."

"Let's say this...A cat, a flask of poison, and a radioactive source are placed in a sealed box. If an internal monitor, such as a Geiger counter, detects radioactivity, such as a single atom decaying, the flask is shattered and releases the poison, which kills the cat. The Copenhagen interpretation of quantum mechanics implies that after a while, the cat is simultaneously alive and dead. Yet, when one looks in the box, one sees the cat either alive or dead not both alive and dead. This poses the question of when exactly quantum superposition ends and reality collapses into one possibility or the other. It's at that point the whole multiverse theory of things happen wherein one universe's timeline I open the door and in another I don't. Basically, this would be a hypothetical group of multiple separate universes. Together, these universes comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy, the physical laws and the constants that describe them. The different universes within the multiverse are called the 'parallel universes', 'other universes' or 'alternative universes'. But that's another barrel of fish I don't want to waste my bullets on shooting."

I look at Flowey and confusion paints his face. I can literally see the gears in his head trying to turn but are stuck from the info dump I took on him.

"In essence, I have at this moment both opened and not opened the door. Only when I make a choice does the timeline split. Thus creating universes that are similar up to the point the choice was made but differ on the path that reflects what I did. If I open it, that world doesn't. If I don't open it, that world does. That make sense?"

"...What the hell is Toriel teaching you?!"

"Oh, none of that. This is the sort of thing I'd look up for fun or out of boredom when I was on the surface."

"Wait, hold up...So you're telling me that you are actually smart?"

"Never said I wasn't. What gave you any indication that I was missing brain cells?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the lack of listening to reason and the idea of hugging the homicidal monsters that try to kill you! That ring any crazy bells for you?"

"To be fair, there is a fine line between genius and madness because they share the same places in the mind. Psychologists have discovered that creative people have a gene in common which is also linked to psychosis and depression. So who knows? Genius and madness have something in common. Both live in a world that is different from that which exists for everyone else. So maybe I am nuts. Or maybe I'm just seeing things others can't. There's a fine line between brilliance and insanity, my flower friend. And I have erased this line from my life in my own subtle way. Hehehe..."

"The creepy giggle tells me different."

I sigh through my nose and turn on my heels.

"I guess this is a world where I..."

[You hear a faint clicking sound.]

I pause and listen.

"Well?"

"Shhh..."

[You hear it again.]

"Looks like the cat lives!"

I spin around and kick the door hard, parting it open.

"Geez! You know you could've pushed it open, right?"

"Now where's the fun in that?"

[knock, knock]

"Sounds like an opportunity. Best not keep it waiting too long."

"You are so corny sometimes."

I smirk, letting my curiosity get to me and follow the sound. With the door open, the dark path before us is cast in enough light so we can see. I bet Toriel uses her fire to see down here. Flowey dives into the ground and I wander down an extremely long corridor. And I do mean very long. Light no longer reaches the point where I am so I feel along the wall for guidance.

"Yo, flower-boy, you out there?"

"Just a bit further...You should be able to see me soon."

"Why's that?"

"There's a small hole in the ceiling that light shines in from."

"...For real?"

I get distracted and slam my face into a brick entry frame.

"Son of a bitch!"

"You okay?"

"I don't know...hoping my nose isn't broken."

I crawl into the room and meet up with Flowey who has sprouted on a small patch of grass growing in the sunlight that managed to pierce the mountain.

"Here, let me see the damage."

"Is it bad?"

He puts his leafs on my nose and wiggles it a litter, earning a little wince from me.

"Hmmm...I don't think it's broken. But no guarantees about getting black eyes."

"Great. Like that'll help these raccoon eyes."

[knock, knock]

Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Flowey held my full attention so much so that I didn't hear the knocks coming from the exit door across from us. This door, it's archway holding the Delta Rune like the last door.

"Do you know who is doing that?"

Flowey shakes his head.

"I know a lot of things, but that one I don't. I learned not to go beyond that door the first time I tried."

"Oh...Well, here's hoping curiosity doesn't kill this cat."

He groans as I move over to the door that's a good 20 or 30 feet away.

[knock, knock]

"Who's there?"

There's silence.

"I said...Who's there?"

"...doughnut."

No...Did I really just get set up for a joke? Fuck it. Might as well play along.

"Doughnut who?"

"i doughnut recognize your voice. ya must be new."

Clever. Very clever. Not very funny, but clever. Okay mystery monster, two can play at this game.

[Knock, knock]

"...who's there?"

"Avenue."

"avenue who?"

"Avenue ever knocked on this door before?"

It's both a joke and a real question. First, there's snickering, but it doesn't last long and they sigh as composure is regained.

"heh...yeah, i do knock here often. but normally the old lady is the one who responds. where is she?"

Why do I feel like being a jerk right now?

"You mean Toriel? Oh, I killed her..."

"you what?!"

"With kindness. And if you're not careful, I just might slay you with sweetness too, buddy."

There's silence on his end.

"Oh come on. It was a joke. Like I'd really hurt the lady that took me in and calls me daughter. That would be the biggest bitch move in history."

"...that wasn't funny."

"Yeah...It left a bad taste in my mouth."

"best wash your mouth out with soap."

I sigh and lean my back against the door.

"So you chat with mom often?"

"we talk sometimes. she's mentioned you a little bit."

"Anything interesting?"

"nothing much...just...the two of ya got into a fight not too long ago."

I rub my face.

"Of course she'd bust that out to someone she'd figure I'd never meet."

"can i ask why?"

"Why what?"

"why'd ya fight?"

"She thought I was leaving her."

"...were you?"

"*scoff* No! Why would I leave? I have her, fucking mom of the millennium. What moron walks out on someone that gives a shit over someone so pathetic? The humans that fell before me were dumb shits to want to leave."

I kick the dirt in annoyance.

"You okay over there?"

"I'm fine, Flowey! Thanks for asking!"

He's paying attention to me only because it's what Toriel wants. He's sort of became her little spy.

"flowey? the fuck is flowey?"

"Talking flower that's been my buddy since I fell down here. He watches out for me. Teaches me how this world works and junk. Not a bad dude for someone with a weak sense of humor."

"ya fell down here, huh? so you really are a human."

"Last I check, yes."

"that's funny."

"Why?"

"i'm actually supposed to be on the watch for humans right now."

"You don't say."

"but...y'know...i don't really care about capturing anybody."

"Good to know."

"capturing is too much work. it's way easier just to kill ya."

I tense up a little bit.

"And this went south real quick."

"relax. i'm only fucking with ya."

"Tell that to the other monsters that try to kill me."

"they must suck at doing so, as by law, you should be dead right now."

"Good luck on that happening."

"why ya say that?"

"Because of all the crap I've been through, I can honestly say I can't die. I get hurt, yeah, and pretty damn close to good Sir Death, but never do we meet. Only pass by one another like old friends saying hello before continuing on. *sigh into a groan* The fuck am I saying? Probably creeping you out by getting all deep and shit. Forget I said anything."

There's silence again.

"Yep. Scared you away. Go figure. Great job, Lynsie, ya idiot. No more than two minutes into a conversation and you say stupid crap."

I drop to sit on the floor. I belong in the dirt anyway.

"...wow, kid. that was...heh, ya sound nothing like what the king said you humans were like."

Part of me is glad he didn't leave. The other part is embarrassed because of the shit I said.

"While I can't say I'm like other humans, I'm glad to not be lumped in with such a dumb bunch."

"from what the old lady told me, you've been showing mercy to each and every monster ya come across. that true?"

"You sound as confused by this as everyone else."

"that's because it's not how things work down here."

"I know. Almost every day, someone reminds me that this is a kill or be killed world. But I don't see why. Why is it like that? I don't have to go around killing to become stronger. Nor do I want to end someone's life. Monsters are cool. And while I'm down here, in a place the world doesn't remember, I'd rather make a home than a tomb."

"you actually like it down here?"

"Better than being up there."

"man, how fucked up was your life before if people trying to kill you makes it better by comparison?"

Now is my turn for silence.

"kid? ya still there?"

"...I don't talk about personal shit to people I don't know properly yet."

"fair enough. the name is sans. sans the skeleton."

"Sans? Like Comic Sans the font?"

"you got a problem with my name?"

"Nah, dude, it's cool. I like that font."

"oh..."

"Your name is cooler than mine."

"what's your name?"

"Lynsie. It's an old name that comes from the United Kingdom. There are many different ways of spelling it or pronouncing it. One way is the old Scottish habitational name from Lindsey in Lincolnshire, England. This is first found in the form Lindissi, apparently a derivative of the British name of Lincoln. This was later added to the Old English element 'island' as a reference to the Isle of Linden Trees since the place was virtually cut off by the surrounding fenlands. The surname was taken to Scotland at an early date and is the name of an important and powerful Scottish family. The Irish later adopted it as an equivalent of various Gaelic names."

"damn! ya know a lot about your name."

"That's not the lame part yet."

"huh?"

"Before the mid-twentieth century, it was solely a male's name."

It's quiet for a moment before I hear laughter.

"hahaha...ya got a guy's name!"

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. It's my name and I have to live with it. So enjoy your fun, ya cheeky ass."

"heh...i'm a skeleton, dummy. i don't have an ass."

Hearing that makes me grin evilly.

"Oh really? Huh...Well, that's rather disappointing."

There's a sound like he choked on air and I laugh loudly.

"Oh my god...I so wish I could see your face right now!"

"fuck you!"

"I bet you would, but you probably don't have a dick for that either!"

"*snarls* you cocky lil' shit!"

"*snickering* Sorry...I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself when the joke was presented before me."

"can ya speak up? i can't hear you over the sound of my shattered pride."

"Ah man...Don't be that way. Tell ya what...Take a free shot at me. I promise not to counter it."

He gets quiet in thought and I wait for what punches he'll throw my way.

"how old are ya?"

"Huh?"

"i said, how old are ya? i wanna know so i don't weird out some kid and piss off mommy."

"Smart move. I'm twenty-eight."

He goes quiet and for some reason, it feels unsettling.

"okay...i think i got something."

"Hit me with your best shot, bone-boy."

"alright...are you an archaeologist?"

"Why do you ask?"

"heh, because i've got a bone for you to examine."

I bite my tongue and he laughs.

"hehehe...yeah, that's what i thought. my jokes are too powerful for ya. try to remember that before ya step up to me again, kid."

I smirk to myself.

"Is that a challenge?"

He snorts.

"ya really want to pick a fight with me?"

"A fight, no. I'd rather pick your bones. Starting with your funny bone. I hear that one can be rather humerus."

There's a pause that becomes a chuckle.

"girl's got jokes...i like that about a woman."

"This explains where Nanny gets her jokes from. But it seems you hold out on her when it comes to the hard stuff."

"is that a good or bad thing?"

"A good thing. I find her humor cute when she does it right. You, however, are on a whole other level. I'd say god tier of jokes."

"flattery will get ya nowhere, kid. still nice to hear it though. it's also nice to hear someone else that likes sans-ational jokes."

"Heh...There might be a door between us, but you're the adorable one here, buddy."

He pauses for a moment.

"not sure you'd be saying that if ya ever saw me."

"Why?"

"well...i'm a skeleton."

"...So?"

"...ya do realize it kinda sounds like you're flirting with me, right?"

"Really? I thought I was just being cute."

Was I really flirting? It didn't feel like it. Wouldn't I know if I was? One man's flirt is another girl's compliment I guess.

"are all humans as weird as you?"

"I like to think I'm one of a kind. But being realistic, there are probably others like me out there. The universe is a pretty infinite place. Who's to say such things such as multiple 'me's wouldn't be a thing?"

"getting nerdy on me now?"

"I'll be nerdy if you geek out with me, bone-boy. That is...If you can get on my level."

"kid, ya got no idea what you're asking for."

"I don't know about that. We seem to have some great chemistry going on here."

"don't say i didn't warn ya."

"You didn't."

"...okay, now i won't feel bad about this."

"Bring it on!"

"fine...since ya brought up the whole infinite universe thing, then i take it ya know about multiverse theory."

"Funny enough, I was just talking about it earlier."

"then you understand the possibilities don't just extend to two worlds being made by a single choice, correct? any and every possibility that can or could happen makes a world. so there's this world where we're having this conversation, but another world where we aren't. a world where you didn't fall down here and someone else did. a world where you fell but died. a world where ya got killed by the first monster you met. even a world where you kill every monster ya see. anything, any little change or subtle difference here and there, makes up a whole other world. so if you think about it, one universe can have thousands upon millions of alternate timelines made up of varying changes."

"Dude...And here I thought I was the deep one."

"s-shut up!

"You're right though. All of that is a possibility. Like a hair with split ends, each branching path is different but still part of that same universe it originated from. It's fascinating to think of the crazy things that could be. Like, can you imagine a world where this was reversed? Where humans were forced underground and monsters ruled the surface?"

"hmmm...sounds nice."

"Or a world where humans and monsters switched race."

"me as a human? i bet i'd be hot as fuck."

"Or a world where this was all just a story someone made up for a video game or fanfiction."

"oh my god, could you imagine the shit that would make? random weirdos shipping people left and right regardless of lore, relationship status, or even blood. what a bunch of freaks."

"Dude...You guys know what shipping is down here?"

"uh...let's just say a lot of human trash ends up down here. some of it may or may not be things called anime and manga."

"...Got a favorite?"

"...maybe?"

"*snickers* Nice. Oh! Or a world where we swap roles with relatives/spouses."

"nah. screw that one. i like being the older brother."

"You have a brother?"

"just one. and you?"

"Human or monster?"

"um...both?"

"On the surface, I got an older bro and a younger sis. Down here, I consider Flowey like a bro. Not sure how old he is. Oh! Do ghosts count? 'Cause I got this spooky little kid that talks to me sometimes too."

"uh...what?"

"Eh, but enough about me. I've been prattling on for too long as it is. I wanna hear about you. This bro of yours got a name or am I digging too deep for my own good down here?"

"heh, i don't mind. a guy as epic as my bro needs his reputation to precede him."

"He's that cool?"

"the coolest."

"Nice."

"his name is papyrus..."

"Like the font?"

"it's a skeleton thing. tradition if you wanna call it that."

"It's cute."

"*gruff* anyway...my brother, papyrus...he's a human-hunting FANATIC."

"Sounds like I'm in trouble if he sees me."

"damn right. he isn't second in command of the royal guard for nothing."

"Most impressive. You must be proud."

"hell yeah, i'm proud. my bro is the best. no one messes with him unless they're looking to die."

"Awesome. That must mean as the older bro, you're a badass too."

There's a pause.

"y-yeah...i...i'm a real tough customer."

"You don't sound like you really buy what you're selling."

"i don't want to talk about it."

"Very well. I'll only say this...If the world beyond this door is as dark a place as everyone tells me, then I must admit to being envious of your ability to not only survive in such a world but to be able to share life with a sibling no less...That alone tells me you are far stronger than you know."

There is no sound for a long time after that. I want to think this skeleton named Sans is thinking over my words. In a world where people kill to gain strength, sometimes a little pep talk goes a long way.

[knock, knock]

Guessing we're back to this. That's fine. We can joke if you want us to.

"Who's there?"

"sans."

"Sans who?"

"are ya freaking kidding me? how did you forget me so fast?"

"*giggles* Never, bone-boy. I'd never forget someone so punny."

"heh. glad to hear that, kid. if ya really like my jokes, then be ready for more. i've got a skele-ton of them."

I smile to myself, finding peace in this moment.

"Sans..."

"yeah?"

"This is nice."

"eh, not a bad way to kill time on my end either."

"If it's okay with you...I wouldn't mind this being a thing. Not trying to make this weird or anything. I just...I feel comfortable talking with you."

"ya know...you seem rather trusting of monsters you don't know."

"I like to think showing some kindness can be a nice way to open more doors than being a huge cunt."

"are you sure that's a smart idea? being nice around here isn't a good thing. it's seen as a weakness. and weakness is seen as a big ass target for others to off ya. like, you could literally open your front door and witness a monster get killed because it was justified on the grounds of the dead one being 'too weak'. and that's something ya gotta live with. knowing that everyone's always watching ya. wanting ya dead and waiting, just waiting, for the first sign of weakness so they can kill ya."

"I know. But it's just how I want to be."

"so you know that one of these days, your 'kindness' is going to get ya killed."

"Heh...I have no doubt that you're right. But...I think I'd be okay with that."

Where the heck is this coming from? Why am I opening up like this?

"I'm being weird again, aren't I?"

"just a little."

"Sorry about that. But if you think I don't have my guard up, then you're the one that's too relaxed right now. I'm on my toes each time I leave the house. I've had to convince many monsters in here that I'm not worth the EXP. So many encounters, so many repeated actions and words. But it's not like I'm not learning from all this."

"what does that mean?"

"For a while now, Nanny's been teaching me how to do soul magic. I know only a few basics, mostly because humans can't do magic like we used to. Yet one of these tricks is to sense or see souls and reading its feelings."

I close my eyes, concentrate, then open them slowly. Looking at the door, I see a faint upside down heart come into view, a bit blurry due to being on the other side of these huge doors, but there all the same.

"I can see you, bone-boy. Your soul feels confused, much like anyone else down here that I've met so far. So, I can't really say you're a good guy or a bad guy. You're like on this strange middle level I can't pinpoint. This is why it seems like I'm not on my guard. I don't see you as dangerous...for now anyway."

"you can see me huh? then what am i doing right now?"

"I see your soul, not your body. There's still a door in the way, dingus, and I don't have x-ray vision. But if I had to guess, you probably just flipped me off. Am I right?"

"clever bitch...but x-ray vision would be a pretty cool power to have. though you wouldn't need it when it comes to me or my bro."

"Why? You boys naked or something?"

I hear what sounds like a scuffle then pounding on the door. That must have got him pretty good.

"no, we're not naked! why would ya even ask that? are ya some kind of freak?"

"Been called that most my life. So, maybe?"

"look, i'm just...nah. ya know what? forget it. i ain't gonna spoil it for you."

"Oh? You make it sound like we'll be seeing each other soon."

"maybe we will, maybe we won't. but that's up to you really. the doors to the ruins can't be opened from the outside."

"Dumb design flaw."

"so if ya do decide to show yourself out here, i guess that means you'll have to fight the old lady again."

"I doubt that. There might be some yelling or other shit like that, but we learned from what happened last time. That isn't happening again. I am not fighting her. I barely made it as is."

"oh yeah? what's your LV level? had to be pretty high to withstand her attacks."

"One."

I hear what sounds like a spit-take. Guess he was drinking something.

"one?! you're only a level one and you survived a fight with the old lady?!"

"Yep."

"how?!"

"The power of plot armor."

"no, seriously! how did you not die?!"

"I told you. Friendship. They say it's magic."

"you...you have to be bullshitting me. no one gets in a fight here and both people get out alive. at the very least, someone's badly hurt and forced into submission. but..."

"Hmmm?"

"but...the old lady...she told me what you did."

"And that was?"

"ya tried to talk to her...ya tried to be nice...she said at one point...you snapped..."

I feel my heart falter and not start up again after a couple seconds.

"ya tried to kill her...didn't ya? was that a lie?"

I pull my legs up to my chest.

"...Something happened at that moment. I don't know what it was. I felt...I felt this deeply seeded despair suddenly raise from the depths with such force and it consumed me. I was blinded by this feeling. I was in so much pain...I wanted her to feel it...Feel the hurt that I was experiencing...But I stopped myself before I did something I'd regret. That's not me. I'm not a killer. It's not who I am."

"but for a moment...it was."

I hold my breath.

"even if it was a moment of weakness...the intent was there. you were going to kill her."

"...Stop it."

"don't think of it as a bad thing. ya wanted her to listen to ya and she wasn't. what better way to get her attention than to come at her with a knife?"

"Stop it!"

"oh, i'm so sorry. am i hurting your feelings? is the big bad human gonna cry? or are ya gonna try to kill me too?"

"I҉ ̶Ş̨A̛̛I̡D̀ ̡̀͜S̛T̕͜O̷҉P̸͟!͜"

I hear gasping, both from him and Flowey, as I try to keep myself in control.

"Stop it! I'm not a killer! I don't want to hurt anyone! Stop saying I'm bad! I'm not like that! I'm not! I'm not! I'm not...*whimpering* I'm not a bad girl...Please...Just...Stop..."

My chest hurts.

"h-hey...settle down. look, i shouldn't have said that shit. just...don't go getting all teary-eyed over it."

It feels like there's a vice on my soul. Shit, this is bad.

"Fuck...Getting worse...Flowey! Go get Toriel!"

"What? Why?"

"J̶u̷st ̸d͡o̵ it̷!̕"

Flowey dives into the ground and I slam my head back against the door.

"A̕rg҉h!"

"human? what's going on? hey! talk to me, damn it!"

I grip my chest in one hand and claw the ground in the other. The pain is breaking past my tolerance.

"kid? ya there? what's happening? say something!"

"*roar* M͏҉a̴m̵a̛͞!"

The loud thunder of Toriel's running stampede can be felt before I actually hear it. I'm a wincing mess by the time she comes into view. Her expression is one I was expecting, overprotective concern.

"Child? What is happening?"

I don't think I can talk without making noises of pain, so I opt for a different way of communication. I show to tell. Meaning, I pop my soul out and now we both can see the damage. The small green heart is dulling to faint swirls of black that are creeping in.

"*gasp* Oh no...Not again...Do not fear, my child. I shall help you however I can."

"M̡ak͠e̷ įt͟ s̸t͞o͠p...M͝ake i͞t̶ st͘o̵p͟ ̴be͟f̛ore ͜I ̢d͘o͢ so̴m̴et͜h͠i͢ng͞ ͞b҉àd..͠.I̶ d̶on̕'t ̵w͠a͝n̨t̛ t͘o̡ do ͝a̴nýt̴hi̛ng̶ ͢ba̡d͢.͡.."

She terrified. I can see it in her eyes. She has no clue what to do. But I can tell there's an idea in her head and she scared from it. Now I'm the one that's worried. I'm worried because...I'm wanting her to do the idea she has. I want her to do something, anything if it'll keep this darkness from spreading out and taking over again. Forgive me Toriel...I trust you...But I'm scared too...So don't hate me.

"W̡h͢a̷t͝ ̡arȩ ͜y̶o͡u̡ doinģ? ͡H̴e͢l͝p̶ me̕.̀.̨.Do͡n'̷t͟ just͞ ͟s̡tar͡e at̕ m͟e li̢ke ̡I̛'͟m som̴é ̨s͢ìde͟sh̕ow͏ ̸fre̡àk..͘.Do̕ so̴m͢ęthi̧ng b̷e͟fòre I d͞o!̵"

The darkness is gathering more, removing color from the soul. Knowing what happened last time, when that black soul formed, she reacts in desperation.

"Forgive me, my child!"

Her hands go around my throat and start squeezing. Naturally, instinct has me trying to stop this. My fingers claw for her hands, my legs kick out, my body overall thrashes in its desperate need to breathe so it can live. All this made even harder against the door. Most likely scaring the shit out of Sans. If he's still there that is.

"Shhhhh...Hush child...It will be okay. Do not fight this. I am helping you as you wanted me to. Now settle down and go to sleep. All will be better when you wake up. You will see. I promise. Things will be better. *crying* So just do as I say and sleep!"

I can normally hold my breath for around three and a half minutes underwater, with that only being about two minutes on land. This is minute four and my lungs are burning with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns! Air isn't the only thing cut off in this choke. The blood supply to my brain is also being cut off. I...I can't move...Getting hared to form thoughts...Sight fading...Please stop at making me pass out and not strangle me to death or break my neck...okay mom?

"*weak* T҉hank̡ ̛yo͞u̴.̨...nanny...."

My limbs fall motionless and my head lolls back like a rag doll. The last thing I see before everything disappears when my eyes go looking at the back of my skull is her sad face and all those tears.

Toriel on her end gives it a few more seconds before releasing the human's throat from her grip. There is no life in the body now and the soul flickers faintly as the black ebbs from it before slowly sinking back into its host.

"*whimper* What have I done? How could I..."

"holy shit! did ya just kill the human?!"

Sans's sudden voice startles her.

"Sans?! W-What are you...How long have you...?"

"been here quite a while really. been chatting with your 'daughter'. is she...ya know...dead?"

Good question. Toriel wasn't trying to kill but as a Boss Monster, her strength can be immense even when controlled. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she reached out and felt the human's neck. It took a bit of searching, the small beating was very hard to find, but it was there none the less...a pulse. Toriel heaved a heavy sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness...She is still alive."

"geez...well, that's some good news."

"Are you not a sentry that hunts humans?"

"yeah?"

"Would it not please you knowing of her death?"

"and have to do my job? fuck that. it's too much crap and paperwork. not like anyone will believe me if i show up with a human soul. fuckers will think pap did it and i'm just the errand boy making his delivery. believe me, i like it better when no humans fall. that way, i can just nap the day away."

That made her smile. Sans had been a friend of sorts over the years. They met by random timing when she was walking around and he knocked on the door. One thing leads to another and a small bond was made over bad jokes. Sometimes he'd bring her books and read them to her, or play silly word games. But she enjoyed the company that he was, even if it was short lived. He can't be at this door 24/7. He has a home and a brother to tend to. A family...Much like the human had now become to her.

"so...mind if i ask what happened?"

She pulled the unconscious human into her arms.

"Her soul...It does something I have never seen before."

"like what?"

"It changes color."

"...really?"

"And moments ago, it tried to become another color. The bad one I told you of before."

"ya mean the black soul?"

"Correct."

"never heard of a black soul before. i don't even think it's in the official books."

"I have not seen one either till this child. Only in rumors during the war did whispers of black souls reach my ears. Relentless humans of power that were like the berserkers of myth. This child...I have been caring for her a long time now...She is not like those beasts I heard of."

"but her soul turns black, right? that's when she...snaps?"

"I do not understand why or what makes her flip like that. There is so much she does not tell me about her past. So much pain she keeps hidden to herself. I...I think it comes from her suffering."

"...then...what are ya gonna do?"

Her hold on the human tightens.

"I will do my best to quell the demons of her past and keep her soul pure. She is not a violent human by nature. It is not in her to do harm."

"but what if she does? what if one day, ya can't fix her and she goes nuts? do ya really think ya got it in ya to kill another kid? and one ya call family no less?"

She goes quiet.

"tori? you okay?"

"Sans...If the human ever comes through this door...Could you please, please promise me something?"

"...tori, ya know how i feel about making promises."

"Please!"

She trembles, clutching the human in her motherly embrace.

"Please...*sniffling* Please...As long as she remains the good girl that she is...Do not harm her or turn her into the Royal Guard...Show her the mercy that she has shown others."

"you're asking me to keep a very big promise."

"I'm not finished..."

She bites her lip in knowing of the next words to leave her.

"But...But if she changes...If her LV ever increases or she loses herself to the darkness of the Black Soul...I need you to spare her from becoming that which is feared...Please...If she ever stops being my child...Do not let her remain in such misery. Can you do that for me, Sans? Can you be strong for me?"

"tori..."

"I beg of you as a friend and not order you as your Queen. I...I cannot bring myself to do harm to humans anymore. I cannot allow my husband to collect another soul and bring about more pain. I just...I cannot do this for much longer if I know nothing is going to change. This child...She is the first ray of light to come to this hellish world in so long...If her light goes out, then I cannot see myself going any further..."

"hey! don't say shit like that! ya can't throw in the towel over some stupid human!"

"This human is my daughter! My only living child! She is all I have left in this world of the family I have lost! And I will not live with knowing I was still too weak to save even a single life that I hold dear!"

There's silence for some time as she calms down.

"Forgive me...I am not as strong as I once was. I should not have to burden others with my problems."

She stands up and turns away from the door.

"tori..."

She pauses.

"i...*sigh* i promise."

"You...You will?"

"i ain't gonna like it. but i can try to keep a socket on her if she ever does leave the ruins. it is my job, after all, to look out for humans."

She smiles softly.

"Thank you, Sans."

"don't thank me, tori. i ain't doing this because ya want to put your hopes and dreams into the kid. i'm doing it because i don't want ya to beat yourself up over some stupid shit and end up dusting yourself. we monsters died enough in the war and die enough now that it's over. don't go hurting yourself over a human or i'm gonna bust in there and beat the crap out of the both of ya! ya got that, old lady?!"

She can't help the giggle that escapes her.

"You are a good friend, Sans. I hope you can be as good a friend to her as you are with me."

"*scoff* whatever. i gotta get going anyway. papyrus will be stopping by my station soon and i don't feel like being yelled at for the next hour or two. so...chat with ya later, tori."

"Take care, Sans."

She listens as he leaves, the crunching of snow fading in the distance.

"Are you still down here, little flower?"

Flowey peeks from the grassy patch.

"Is it safe? Is she okay?"

"For now, she rests. You were with her when this happened, yes?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Tell me, do you know what caused her to shift?"

"I...I couldn't hear everything. I was here and she was at the door, talking to him. It looked like they were having a good time. Then...She...It looked like she was getting sad. Then she was shouting that she wasn't bad and refused to kill. It looked like she was fighting the change but wasn't sure she could. So she had me get you."

"Hmmm..."

She thinks as she begins to head back to the house stairs.

"Come, little flower. We must make sure she is well before she wakes."

Flowey nods and sinks into the ground to return to his pot at the base of the stairs. Toriel soon follows, picking up his pot while heading upstairs and bring them to the child bedroom. Here is where the three remain. Toriel and Flowey monitor the human, making sure she's okay until she wakes up. Although for Toriel, the waiting wasn't the hardest part. In fact, waiting made it worst. The more time passed, the more her neck began to show the bruising of her hands. The guilt weighed heavily in her stomach.

~~~~~~

The world is dark again, cast into the shadows of an unending emptiness. I must be about to dream of that voice again, the jerk. How many times have I had this dream already? Eight? Nine? Maybe ten times now? Who the friggidy fraggle knows. But something feels a bit off. The cold isn't so bone-chilling as it normally is. This is different. I can move. I can see my body. I am more than able to experience this place in thought alone. This world isn't just all nothingness. There is a single gray door.

Curiosity compels me to open this door without even thinking. It was like the odd call to go down to Toriel's basement. A strange force pulls me inside, causing the door to shut and disappear as though it never was. There's a sudden flash that blinds me for a moment and when my sight returns, I find myself in a gray room...but not alone.

There's a much taller than me figure at the back of the room facing a wall with its back to me. Its body is shrouded in black with the only color I can see being the bleach white of its head. Vaguely the faintest hint of red around collarbone of its neck, a sweater maybe? I know better than to alert this figure to my presence. I concentrate and try to read its soul, but I can't find it. There's a spot where it should be yet no heart appears in my vision. Is it damaged or something? What the hell is this thing?

Suddenly it perks up, turning its head to look my way. Yep, called it on the red being part of a turtleneck sweater, but that's the only part there is as everything else is coated in blackness. It gives me a twisted smile and its eyes light up red, all of which is even freakier looking due to the cracks on its eye sockets, one going down from his left eye the other going up from his right eye.

Nope! So much nope right now! Fuck this! Fuck this dream! Fuck this guy! Fuck my life! Fuck everything!

I attempt to move, only to discover I can't. The familiar chills of death run down my spine as this thing turns completely to face me.

"💧⚐ 🕈☜ ☞✋☠✌☹☹✡ 💣☜☜❄ ☞✌👍☜ ❄⚐ ☞✌👍☜📪 ☹✋❄❄☹☜ ⚐☠☜📬" (SO WE FINALLY MEET FACE TO FACE, LITTLE ONE.)

Don't show any weakness to this fucker. All he does is mess with you. Send all power reserves to the deflector shields! God, I'm a nerd even when I'm giving myself a pep-talk!

"☟💣💣💣📬📬📬❄☟✌❄ ☜✠🏱☼☜💧💧✋⚐☠📬📬📬❄☟✌❄🕯💧 ❄☟☜ ☞✌👍☜ ⚐☞ 💧⚐💣☜⚐☠☜ ❄☼✡✋☠☝ ☠⚐❄ ❄⚐ 💧☟⚐🕈 ✌☠✡ ☞☜✌☼📬" (HMMM...THAT EXPRESSION...THAT'S THE FACE OF SOMEONE TRYING NOT TO SHOW ANY FEAR.)

God dingus damn it!

"❄⚐ 🏱🕆❄ ✡⚐🕆 ✌❄ ☜✌💧☜📪 ✌☹☹⚐🕈 💣☜ ❄⚐ 👍☹✌☼✋☞✡ ❄☟✌❄📪 ✋☠👎☜☜👎📪 ✡⚐🕆 💧⚐🕆☠👎 👌☜ ✌☞☼✌✋👎📬 👌☜ ✞☜☼✡ ✌☞☼✌✋👎📬" (TO PUT YOU AT EASE, ALLOW ME TO CLARIFY THAT, INDEED, YOU SOUND BE AFRAID. BE VERY AFRAID.)

Don't ask stupid questions! For the love of God, resist the urge to ask...

"Why? And how is that suppose to put me at ease?"

You fucking idiot!

"⚐☟📪 👎✋👎 ✋ 💧✌✡ 🏱🕆❄ ✡⚐🕆 ✌❄ ☜✌💧☜✍ 💧✋☹☹✡ 💣☜📪 ❄⚐ ☟✌✞☜ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌ 💧☹✋🏱 ⚐☞ ❄☟☜ ❄⚐🕆☠☝☜ ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✌❄📬 ☟☜☟📬📬📬🕈☟✌❄ ✋ 💣☜✌☠❄ ❄⚐ 💧✌✡ 🕈✌💧📬📬📬" (OH, DID I SAY PUT YOU AT EASE? SILLY ME, TO HAVE SUCH A SLIP OF THE TOUNGE LIKE THAT. HEH...WHAT I MEANT TO SAY WAS...)

He rushes at me so fast I'm not even sure I saw actual movement. All I know is now I'm pinned to a wall that he's holding me to.

"✋ ✌💣 ☝⚐✋☠☝ ❄⚐ 🏱🕆☹☹ ✡⚐🕆 ✌🏱✌☼❄ ✋☠❄⚐ ☠⚐❄☟✋☠☝ 💣⚐☼☜ ❄☟✌☠ 🏱✋☜👍☜💧 💧⚐ 👌☼⚐😐☜☠ ❄☟✌❄ ☠⚐ ⚐☠☜ 🕈✋☹☹ ☜✞☜☼ 👌☜ ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ 🏱🕆❄ 👌✌👍😐 ❄⚐☝☜❄☟☜☼✏" (I AM GOING TO PULL YOU APART INTO NOTHING MORE THAN PIECES SO BROKEN THAT NO ONE WILL EVER BE ABLE TO PUT BACK TOGETHER!)

HOLY FUCKING ASS CRACKERS!!

"🖂💧❄✋☞☹☜👎 💧☠✋👍😐☜☼✋☠☝🖂" (*STIFLED SNICKERING*)

Wait...Did he just...

"☟☜☟☜☟☜📬📬📬☞⚐☼☝✋✞☜ 💣☜📬 ✋❄ ☟✌💧 👌☜☜☠ 💧🕆👍☟ ✌ ☹⚐☠☝ ❄✋💣☜ 💧✋☠👍☜ ✋ 🕈✌💧 ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ✋☠❄☜☼✌👍❄ 🕈✋❄☟ 💧⚐💣☜⚐☠☜📬 ✋ 👍⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ ☼☜💧✋💧❄ 👌☜✋☠☝ ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ 💧👍✌☼☜ ✡⚐🕆 💧☜☠💧☜☹☜💧💧📬" (HEHEHE...FORGIVE ME. IT HAS BEEN SUCH A LONG TIME SINCE I WAS ABLE TO INTERACT WITH SOMEONE. I COULDN'T RESIST BEING ABLE TO SCARE YOU SENSELESS.)

He puts me down and my knees give out much to his interest.

"💧☜☜💣💧 ✋ 💣✌✡ ☟✌✞☜ ⚐✞☜☼ 👎✋👎 💣✡💧☜☹☞📬 🕈✌💧 ❄☟✌❄ ❄⚐⚐ 💣🕆👍☟ ☞⚐☼ ✡⚐🕆✍" (SEEMS I MAY HAVE OVER DID MYSELF. WAS THAT TOO MUCH FOR YOU?)

"I think I just shit out my heart..."

"☟💣💣💣📬📬📬💧🕆👌☺☜👍❄ ✋💧 ☜✠❄☼☜💣☜☹✡ 💧🕆👌👎🕆☜👎 🕈☟☜☠ 🕆☠👎☜☼ ✋☠❄☜☠💧☜ 👎🕆☼☜💧💧📬 ✋🕯☹☹ 💣✌😐☜ ✌ 💣☜☠❄✌☹ ☠⚐❄☜ ⚐☞ ❄☟✌❄ ❄⚐ 🏱☼☜✞☜☠❄ ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ✋☠👍✋👎☜☠❄💧 ✋☠ ⚐🕆☼ ☞🕆❄🕆☼☜ ☜☠👍⚐🕆☠❄☜☼💧📬" (HMMM...SUBJECT IS EXTREMELY SUBDUED WHEN UNDER INTENSE DURESS. I'LL MAKE A MENTAL NOTE OF THAT TO PREVENT FURTHER INCIDENTS IN OUR FUTURE ENCOUNTERS.)

He offers me his hand while I get my breathing back under control. Dear lord, he fucking almost scared me to death. He went from zero to Satan in nothing flat. I better keep my cool around him for the sake of my health and sanity. When I'm able to stop shaking, I cautiously give him my hand and I notice something odd about him. Well, more than usual I guess. The parts of him that are white appear to be like bone yet different. There are also holes in the palms of both hands like something's missing or was taken out. He jerks me off the floor with ease. The guy is strong for looking like a stiff.

"☜✞☜☼ ❄☟☜ ⚐👌💧☜☼✞✌☠❄ ⚐☠☜📪 ✌☼☜☠🕯❄ ✡⚐🕆✍ ☜✡☜💧 ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 ⚐☠ 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝📬 ❄☟✌❄🕯💧 ☝⚐⚐👎📬 ✋❄ 💣☜✌☠💧 ✡⚐🕆☼ 💣✋☠👎 ✋💧 ✌☹🕈✌✡💧 ✌👍❄✋✞☜📬 ✋❄ 💧🏱☜✌😐💧 ❄⚐ ✡⚐🕆☼ ✋☠❄☜☹☹✋☝☜☠👍☜📬 ✋ ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✌❄📬 ✋ 👍✌☠🕯❄ 💧❄✌☠👎 ❄✌☹😐✋☠☝ 🕈✋❄☟ ❄☟☜ ✋☝☠⚐☼✌☠❄ 🕆☠👎☜☼👎☜✞☜☹⚐🏱☜👎 💧👍🕆💣📬" (EVER THE OBSERVANT ONE, AREN'T YOU? EYES ALWAYS ON SOMETHING. THAT'S GOOD. IT MEANS YOUR MIND IS ALWAYS ACTIVE. IT SPEAKS TO YOUR INTELLIGENCE. I LIKE THAT. I CAN'T STAND TALKING WITH THE IGNORANT UNDERDEVELOPED SCUM.)

"Thanks, I guess? Not really sure what's going on here. But quick question...Are you...?"

"✌ 💧😐☜☹☜❄⚐☠✍ ✡☜💧📬 ✋ 🕈✌💧 👌☜☝✋☠☠✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ❄☟✋☠😐 ✡⚐🕆 🕈☜☼☜☠🕯❄ ☝⚐✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ✌💧😐📬" (A SKELETON? YES. I WAS BEGINNING TO THINK YOU WEREN'T GOING TO ASK.)

"How do you figure that?"

"✋ 👍✌☠ 💧☜☜ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ ☞✋✠✌❄✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☝✌☪☜ ⚐☠ 🏱✌☼❄💧 ⚐☞ 💣✡ 💧😐🕆☹☹ 🕈☟✋☹☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☟✌☠👎📪 🕈☟✋👍☟ ✋💧 💧❄✋☹☹ ✋☠ 💣✋☠☜ 👌✡ ❄☟☜ 🕈✌✡📪 ✋💧 ☞☜☜☹✋☠☝ ✌☼⚐🕆☠👎 ❄☟☜ 👌⚐☠☜ ✈🕆✋❄☜ ✋☠❄☜☠❄☹✡📬" (I CAN SEE YOU ARE FIXATING YOUR GAZE ON PARTS OF MY SKULL WHILE YOUR HAND, WHICH IS STILL IN MINE BY THE WAY, IS FEELING AROUND THE BONE QUITE INTENTLY.)

I blush and yank my hand back, which makes him smirk.

"💧🕆👍☟ ✌ ☠✌🕆☝☟❄✡ ☝✋☼☹ ❄⚐ ☞☜☜☹ 💣☜ ☹✋😐☜ ❄☟✌❄📬 ✌☠👎 ✋🕯💣 ✌ 💧❄☼✌☠☝☜☼ ☠⚐ ☹☜💧💧📬 🕈☟✡📬📬📬🕈☟✌❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ✡⚐🕆☼ 💣⚐❄☟☜☼ 💧✌✡ ✋☞ 💧☟☜ 😐☠☜🕈✍" (SUCH A NAUGHTY GIRL TO FEEL ME LIKE THAT. AND I'M A STRANGER NO LESS. WHY...WHAT WOULD YOUR MOTHER SAY IF SHE KNEW?)

I'm getting too flustered for this shit.

"Buddy, I am so close to slapping you that it ain't even funny."

"☠⚐ ☠☜☜👎 ☞⚐☼ 💧🕆👍☟ ☼☜❄✌☹✋✌❄✋⚐☠📬 ☠⚐❄ ☹✋😐☜ ✡⚐🕆🕯👎 ☟✌☼💣 💣☜ ☜✞☜☠ ✋☞ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☼✋☜👎📬" (NO NEED FOR SUCH RETALIATION. NOT LIKE YOU'D HARM ME EVEN IF YOU TRIED.)

"Are you implying that I'm weak?"

"☠⚐❄ ☜✞☜☠ 👍☹⚐💧☜📬 ❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ❄☟☜ ✞⚐✋👎📬 ✌ 🏱☹✌👍☜ 👌☜❄🕈☜☜☠ ❄✋💣☜ ✌☠👎 💧🏱✌👍☜📬 ❄☟✋☠☝💧 ☹✋😐☜ 💧❄☼☜☠☝❄☟ 👎⚐ ☠⚐❄ 💣✌❄❄☜☼ ☟☜☼☜📬 ☠⚐❄☟✋☠☝ 💣✌❄❄☜☼💧 ☟☜☼☜📬" (NOT EVEN CLOSE. THIS IS THE VOID. A PLACE BETWEEN TIME AND SPACE. THINGS LIKE STRENGTH DO NOT MATTER HERE. NOTHING MATTERS HERE.)

Joke detected. Proceed with being a dork.

"You're wrong."

"☟💣💣💣✍" (HMMM?)

"Everything is matter!"

I laugh nervously as he blinks at me a few times. Wow...My lameness has hit new lows. This is around the time Flowey or Chara would mock me for it. I sigh in defeat, only to perk up when I hear him slap a hand over his mouth. He's trying not to chuckle but the hole in his hand doesn't really help.

"❄☟✌❄📬📬📬❄☟✌❄ 🕈✌💧 ✌🕈☞🕆☹📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠📬" (THAT...THAT WAS AWFUL, HUMAN.)

"Then why are you laughing, sir?"

"✋❄🕯💧 ✌ 🏱✋❄✡ ☹✌🕆☝☟📬" (IT'S A PITY LAUGH.)

"Heh. If you say so. Figured all skeletons had easily tickled funny bones. At least, that's the impression I got from Sans anyway."

He flinches upon hearing that name.

"Judging by that reaction, I seem to have struck a nerve. Rather interesting considering, as a skeleton, you don't have the guts for such things."

A small amount of red dusts his cheekbones and he groans at my increasingly bad puns.

"❄☟✌❄ 👌⚐☠☜☟☜✌👎📬📬📬✌☹☹ ✋❄ ❄⚐⚐😐 🕈✌💧 ⚐☠☜ ✋☠❄☜☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ✌☠👎 ☟☜ 👍⚐☼☼🕆🏱❄☜👎 ✡⚐🕆 🕈✋❄☟ ☟✋💧 ❄☜☼☼✋👌☹☜ 💧☜☠💧☜ ⚐☞ ☟🕆💣⚐☼📬" (THAT BONEHEAD...ALL IT TOOK WAS ONE INTERACTION AND HE CORRUPTED YOU WITH HIS TERRIBLE SENSE OF HUMOR.)

"So you do know him? Cool. Does he randomly get pulled into weird doors in his dreams too?"

"☠⚐📬 ✡⚐🕆 🕈✋☹☹ ☠⚐❄ 👌☜ 💧☜☜✋☠☝ 💧✌☠💧 ☟☜☼☜📬 ❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 ✌ 🏱☹✌👍☜ 🕈☟☜☼☜ ⚐☠☹✡ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☠👎 ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ 👍⚐☠✞☜☼☝☜ ❄⚐ 💣☜☜❄📬" (NO. YOU WILL NOT BE SEEING SANS HERE. THIS IS A PLACE WHERE ONLY YOU AND I WILL CONVERGE TO MEET.)

"So...This is going to be a thing with us then? Me randomly popping in and saying hi?"

"✌ ❄☟⚐🕆💧✌☠👎 🏱✌☼👎⚐☠💧 ✋☞ ✋🕯💣 ☠⚐❄ 💣☜☜❄✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☟✋☝☟ 💧❄✌☠👎✌☼👎💧 ☞⚐☼ 👍⚐💣🏱✌☠✡📬" (A THOUSAND PARDONS IF I'M NOT MEETING YOUR HIGH STANDARDS FOR COMPANY.)

"That's not what I meant. Don't take it the wrong way, I'm just confused by this...whatever this is. I recall each of these moments. Each time we chat. I'm not even sure these are dreams anymore based on I'm able to vividly remember all this. So finally meeting the owner of the voice that comes into my head is throwing me off a little. I'm not very good at making the best first impressions."

"✋ 😐☠⚐🕈📬 ✡⚐🕆 👍✌☹☹☜👎 💣☜ ✌ ☼✌👍✋💧❄ ☞🕆👍😐📪 ☼☜💣☜💣👌☜☼✍" (I KNOW. YOU CALLED ME A RACIST FUCK, REMEMBER?)

"*nervous giggles* Oh yeah...heh...I...I forgot about that. My bad?"

He sneers a little before regaining composure.

"❄⚐ 👌☜ ☞✌✋☼📪 ✋ 🕈✌💧 ☹☜💧💧 ❄☟✌☠ 🏱☹☜✌💧✌☠❄ ✋☠ ❄☟✌❄ ✋☠❄☜☼✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ✌💧 🕈☜☹☹📬 💧⚐ ✋🕯💣 🕈✋☹☹✋☠☝ ❄⚐ ⚐✞☜☼☹⚐⚐😐 ❄☟✌❄ 💣⚐💣☜☠❄ ✌☠👎 👍✌☹☹ 🕆💧 ☜✞☜☠📬 👌🕆❄ 💣✌✡👌☜ ✡⚐🕆 💣✌😐☜ ✌ 🏱⚐✋☠❄ ✌👌⚐🕆❄ ☞✋☼💧❄ ✋💣🏱☼☜💧💧✋⚐☠💧📬 💧👍✌☼✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆 ☟✌☹☞ ❄⚐ 👎☜✌❄☟📪 🕈☟✋☹☜ ☜☠❄☜☼❄✌✋☠✋☠☝📪 ✋💧☠🕯❄ ❄☟☜ 👌☜💧❄ 🕈✌✡ ⚐☞ ☝☼☜☜❄✋☠☝ ✌ ☠☜🕈 ☞✌👍☜📬" (TO BE FAIR, I WAS LESS THAN PLEASANT IN THAT INTERACTION AS WELL. SO I'M WILLING TO OVERLOOK THAT MOMENT AND CALL US EVEN. BUT MAYBE YOU MAKE A POINT ABOUT FIRST IMPRESSIONS. SCARING YOU HALF TO DEATH, WHILE ENTERTAINING, ISN'T THE BEST WAY OF GREETING A NEW FACE.)

I guess if he's willing to forgive and forget, I can be a big girl about this too.

"Then allow me to introduce myself. Greetings good sir, I am Lynsie. Might I be so bold as to ask who you might be? Since this will be a reoccurring and continuing thing."

"✋ 😐☠⚐🕈 ✞☜☼✡ 🕈☜☹☹ 🕈☟⚐ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜📪 ☟🕆💣✌☠📬 ✋🕯✞☜ 👌☜☜☠ 💣⚐☠✋❄⚐☼✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆 💧✋☠👍☜ ✡⚐🕆 ☞☜☹☹📬 🕈☟✋👍☟📪 ✈🕆✋❄☜ ☞☼✌☠😐☹✡ ✋ ☟✌✞☜ ❄⚐ 💧✌✡📪 ✋🕯💣 ✌ ☹✋❄❄☹☜ 👎✋💧✌🏱🏱⚐✋☠❄☜👎📬" (I KNOW VERY WELL WHO YOU ARE, HUMAN. I'VE BEEN MONITORING YOU SINCE YOU FELL. WHICH, QUITE FRANKLY I HAVE TO SAY, I'M A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED.)

"You've been watching me? Wait...I'm disappointing? What? How? Why?"

"✡⚐🕆🕯☼☜ 😐✋☠👎 ⚐☞ 👌⚐☼✋☠☝📬" (YOU'RE KIND OF BORING.)

"I'm boring? How the hell am I boring? Did you not see any of the crap I've been through?! Did you not see Toriel need to strangle me?! How the fuck is that boring?!"

A cheeky smirk plays on his face...that cocky son of a bone!

"☟☜☟📬 ✋ ☟✌👎 ✌ ☞☜☜☹✋☠☝ ❄☟✌❄ 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 👎☼✌☝ ✌☠ ✌💣🕆💧✋☠☝ ☼☜✌👍❄✋⚐☠ ⚐🕆❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆📬" (HEH. I HAD A FEELING THAT WOULD DRAG AN AMUSING REACTION OUT OF YOU.)

My eye twitches.

"I'm just a toy to you, aren't I?"

His expression changes to a more serious one.

"☞✌☼ ☞☼⚐💣 ✋❄📬 ✌☹☹ ☟🕆💣⚐☼ ✌💧✋👎☜📪 ✋ ☞✋☠👎 ✡⚐🕆 ☼✌❄☟☜☼ ✋☠❄☜☼☜💧❄✋☠☝📬 ❄☟✋💧 ☼⚐⚐💣 ✋💧 💧☜🏱✌☼✌❄☜ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟☜ 🕈⚐☼☹👎 ✡⚐🕆 😐☠⚐🕈 🕈☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 ✌☼☜ 👍⚐☠💧👍✋⚐🕆💧📬 ☠⚐ ⚐☠☜ ✌☠👎 ☠⚐ ❄☟✋☠☝ ☟✌💧 ☜✞☜☼ 👌☜☜☠ ✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ☼☜✌👍☟ ☟☜☼☜ ☠✌❄🕆☼✌☹☹✡📬📬📬❄☟✌❄ ✋💧📪 ⚐☞ 👍⚐🕆☼💧☜📪 🕆☠❄✋☹ ✡⚐🕆 ☞☜☹☹📬" (FAR FROM IT. ALL HUMOR ASIDE, I FIND YOU RATHER INTERESTING. THIS ROOM IS SEPARATE FROM THE WORLD YOU KNOW WHEN YOU ARE CONSCIOUS. NO ONE AND NO THING HAS EVER BEEN ABLE TO REACH HERE NATURALLY...THAT IS, OF COURSE, UNTIL YOU FELL.)

"You're suggesting that this place is a dimensional rift or pocket dimension that solely consists of this room and only this room."

The grin he gets is creepy.

"✋ 😐☠☜🕈 ✡⚐🕆 🕈☜☼☜ 👍☹☜✞☜☼📬 ✡⚐🕆☼ 🕆☠👎☜☼💧❄✌☠👎✋☠☝ ⚐☞ 💣🕆☹❄✋✞☜☼💧☜ ❄☟☜⚐☼✡ 🕈✌💧 ✞☜☼✡ ☜☠☹✋☝☟❄☜☠✋☠☝📬" (I KNEW YOU WERE CLEVER. YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF MULTIVERSE THEORY WAS VERY ENLIGHTENING.)

"I have a basic understanding in most scientific studies. It's amazing the kind of stuff I end up looking up when I'm bored. My most recent studies being string theory and multiverse theory."

"❄☟☜☠ ✡⚐🕆 👍✌☠ ☝☼✌💧🏱 ☟⚐🕈 ❄☟✋💧 ✋💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬 ❄☟✋💧 ☼⚐⚐💣 💧❄✋☹☹ ☜✠✋💧❄ ⚐☠ ❄☟☜ 💧✌💣☜ 🏱⚐✋☠❄ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ 💣✌✋☠ 👎✋💣☜☠💧✋⚐☠ 🏱☹✌☠☜📪 👌🕆❄ ✋💧 ☠⚐❄ ✈🕆✋☜❄ ⚐☠ ❄☟☜ 💧✌💣☜ ☹☜✞☜☹📬" (THEN YOU CAN GRASP HOW THIS IS POSSIBLE. THIS ROOM STILL EXIST ON THE SAME POINT AS THE MAIN DIMENSION PLANE, BUT IS NOT QUIET ON THE SAME LEVEL.)

"Hmmm...Like a weak rip in the fabric of the blanket of time. This room is still connected by the loose threads but isn't fully patched in, if you mind such phrasing."

"☜✠✌👍❄☹✡📬 ✞☜☼✡ ☠✋👍☜ ✌☠✌☹⚐☝✡ 👌✡ ❄☟☜ 🕈✌✡📬 💧✋💣🏱☹☜ ✌☠👎 ☜☞☞☜👍❄✋✞☜📬" (EXACTLY. VERY NICE ANALOGY BY THE WAY. SIMPLE AND EFFECTIVE.)

"I try. But I do believe we are missing a very important part of this equation."

"✌☠👎 🕈☟✌❄ 💣✋☝☟❄ ❄☟✌❄ 👌☜✍" (AND WHAT MIGHT THAT BE?)

"How the heck am I here? I'm just a mere human with the weakest amount of magic you can possibly imagine. How could I possibly be capable of inter-dimensional travel?"

An inquisitive look falls to him, his pinprick eyes close in thought. It's not a bad look on him. Kind of charming actually. Very natural looking. Did I stump you, mystery man?

"✌ 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜ ☜✠🏱☹✌☠✌❄✋⚐☠ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 👌☜ ✌💧❄☼✌☹ 🏱☼⚐☺☜👍❄✋⚐☠📬 ❄☟☜ ☞✌☹☹ 👍⚐🕆☹👎 ☟✌✞☜ ❄☼✋☝☝☜☼☜👎 ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹ ❄⚐ ❄☼✡ 🏱☼⚐❄☜👍❄✋☠☝ ✡⚐🕆📬 ✌❄ ❄☟☜ ☼✋💧😐 ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ 👌⚐👎✡ ☹✋😐☜☹✡ 👌☜✋☠☝ ☼☜☠👎☜☼☜👎 🕆💧☜☹☜💧💧📪 ✡⚐🕆☼ 💧⚐🕆☹ 💣✋☝☟❄ ☟✌✞☜ ❄☼✋☜👎 ❄⚐ 💧✌✞☜ ✡⚐🕆☼ ☜💧💧☜☠👍☜ ☞⚐☼ ☼☜💧☜❄❄✋☠☝ 🏱🕆☼🏱⚐💧☜💧📬" (A POSSIBLE EXPLANATION COULD BE ASTRAL PROJECTION. THE FALL COULD HAVE TRIGGERED YOUR SOUL TO TRY PROTECTING YOU. AT THE RISK OF YOUR BODY LIKELY BEING RENDERED USELESS, YOUR SOUL MIGHT HAVE TRIED TO SAVE YOUR ESSENCE FOR RESETTING PURPOSES.)

Now I'm the one confused.

"What do you mean by that?"

"✡⚐🕆 🕈✋☹☹ ☞✋☠👎 ❄☟✌❄ ⚐🕆❄ ✋☠ 👎🕆☜ ❄✋💣☜📬 ✋🕯💣 💧🕆☼☜ ✌ 👍🕆☼✋⚐🕆💧 💣✋☠👎📪 💧🕆👍☟ ✌💧 ✡⚐🕆☼💧☜☹☞📪 🕈⚐🕆☹👎 ☜☠☺⚐✡ 👎✋💧👍⚐✞☜☼✋☠☝ 💧🕆👍☟ 🕈⚐☠👎☜☼💧 ⚐☠ ✡⚐🕆☼ ⚐🕈☠📬" (YOU WILL FIND THAT OUT IN DUE TIME. I'M SURE A CURIOUS MIND, SUCH AS YOURSELF, WOULD ENJOY DISCOVERING SUCH WONDERS ON YOUR OWN.)

Wait, what does he mean by this? The why is he speaking in like some vague character in a game?

"I...I'm not sure I follow what you're saying. Can you be a tad more specific?"

"✌💧 ✋ 💧✌✋👎📪 ✡⚐🕆 🕈✋☹☹ ✋☠ ❄✋💣☜📬 👌🕆❄ ☞⚐☼ ☠⚐🕈📪 ⚐🕆☼ ❄✋💣☜ ✋💧 ☠☜✌☼✋☠☝ ✋❄🕯💧 ☜☠👎📬 ⚐🕆☼ 💣☜☜❄✋☠☝💧 ☠☜✞☜☼ 💧☜☜💣 ❄⚐ ☹✌💧❄ ☹⚐☠☝ ☜☠⚐🕆☝☟ ☞⚐☼ 👎☜👍☜☠❄ 👍⚐☠✞☜☼💧✌❄✋⚐☠📬 ✌❄ ☹☜✌💧❄📪 ☞⚐☼ ☠⚐🕈 ✌☠✡🕈✌✡📬" (AS I SAID, YOU WILL IN TIME. BUT FOR NOW, OUR TIME IS NEARING IT'S END. OUR MEETINGS NEVER SEEM TO LAST LONG ENOUGH FOR DECENT CONVERSATION. AT LEAST, FOR NOW ANYWAY.)

I can feel it happening. I'm regaining consciousness.

"Wait! You never told me who you are and why you're here? I have so many questions!"

He gives me a crooked smile and pats my head like an elder sibling would.

"❄☟✌❄📪 ☹✋❄❄☹☜ ⚐☠☜📪 ✋💧 ✌ ❄✌☹☜ ☞⚐☼ ✌☠⚐❄☟☜☼ ❄✋💣☜📬 👌🕆❄ ✋ 🕈✋☹☹ ✌☠💧🕈☜☼ ⚐☠☜ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆☼ ✈🕆☜💧❄✋⚐☠💧📬" (THAT, LITTLE ONE, IS A TALE FOR ANOTHER TIME. BUT I WILL ANSWER ONE OF YOUR QUESTIONS.)

He leans down and we lock eyes, my heart stops in mid-beat as I forget how to breathe.

"✡⚐🕆 💣✌✡ 👍✌☹☹ 💣☜📬📬📬☝✌💧❄☜☼📬" (YOU MAY CALL ME...GASTER.)

His eyes flash and I'm consumed in the light.

[msfcatlover]

My on-going AU problem

Featuring: My take on “Midoriya Izuku gets/inherits/is the son of All for One.”

Look, I had the idea last night, and I need to throw it out there somehow.

So, Inko was seeing All for One at one point, but after finding out who/what he was and then learning she was pregnant, she ran as far and fast as she could; she’s actually like eighty layers deep in whatever witness/victim protection program exists in HeroAca’s Japan. Since nobody knows how deep AfO’s influence might run, most of her pregnancy was spent shuffling from agency to agency, changing identities, and sometimes even hopping borders in order to obscure her trail as much as possible.

Her hair is naturally powder-blue, but she started dying it for each new identity, and dark green just happened to be what she wound up on when she became Midoriya Inko. Among other things she had to reinvent about herself:

·         Learning to enjoy cooking, or at least finding dishes she could enjoy making enough to pass for it.

·         Stop knitting (which she used to do constantly,) and start sewing (which she used to bemoan whenever she found a rip in her clothes.)

·         Learn to lie badly.

·         A preference for dresses and skirts over jeans.

·         Stop remembering dates (basically, teach herself to seem absentminded.)

·         Change the pitch of her quirk; she says it’s much weaker than it is (she can lift things up to her own weight,) added the little waving gesture (completely unnecessary, but helps with the image,) and if asked to explain the science of it, she says she sort-of magnetizes the items to her hands (it’s full-on telekinesis.)

“Midoriya Hisashi” is, legally, her husband, and the source of their income, but he’s actually her contact at the protection program; he still doesn’t know the whole story behind her, but he’s been vetted enough times that she knows she can trust him if she ever needs to reach out. She’s never had to call him, and hopes she’ll never have to, but he’s on speed-dial just in case.

So. Izuku is born a little after she settles into being Inko, and she is so, so happy. He’s a bright point of sunshine in her life, and if she’s very lucky, he’ll never know who his father actually is, and he’ll grow up safe and peaceful and happy. And, yeah, he has his father’s dark pink curls, but that’s what baby-safe dyes are for, right? Right. As far as the neighbors are concerned, Izuku has his mother’s eyes, his mother’s hair, and his mother’s smile.

(She never tells them that she has Izuku’s smile; that she never used to be able to be this bright, this open, before her baby boy came into her life. Izuku will grow up with his mother telling and showing him that it’s okay to cry, never knowing he taught her that first.)

  And then his quirk comes in.

It’s not All for One proper. A child can, after all, manifest either of their parents’ quirks… or a combination of the two. AfO needs to place his hands on someone to steal their quirk, and when he does he absorbs it automatically; Izuku can just hold out his hands and pull, and this little twinkling light jumps out of them to hover above his hands, where he can harmlessly hold it for as long as he wants to. If he closes his hand around the light, he can utilize the quirk, but the original owner can get it back just by grabbing hold of it and reabsorbing the light into their body.

Inko calls Hisashi. She says her son’s quirk seems like a dead give-away as to who his father is, and she doesn’t know what to do. Hisashi hums and considers, and then tells her to have a conversation with the boy about keeping aspects of it a secret, the same way that she does, and to only register as much as they decide to tell people.

  They register it as a cancellation quirk. Izuku grows up knowing he shouldn’t show off the part of his quirk that lets him borrow other people’s powers, the same way he only washes his hair with the shampoo with the hair dye mixed in, the same way he doesn’t talk about his dad, ever. (He honestly stopped showing off his power almost entirely after Tsubasa wanted to know if Izuku could cancel a mutation-type quirk; the main thing he remembers from that incident was the pain of alien wings trying to rip through his skin, and the way that the other boy would not stop screaming. And Izuku gave it back, he gave it right back, he apologized a thousand times, but Tsubasa wouldn’t go near him afterwards, and Izuku couldn’t blame him. He swore never to use his quirk on anyone with a mutation-type quirk ever again.)

(Later, Inko will explain some of the possible medical repercussions of taking someone’s quirk, and Izuku almost swears never to use it again at all, before she wipes away his tears and tells him, voice just as shaky as his, eyes just as wet, no. “You just have to be careful, sweetheart,” she tells him, “that’s all. Your quirk is just another part of you, and there is no part of you you ought to be ashamed of. Don’t talk that way about my favorite person, hmmm? You’ll make me cry… even harder than I already am.”)

(That night he washes his hair with the green shampoo, and wonders for the first time why.)

  The only place Izuku uses his quirk fully is at home, where Inko lets him borrow hers whenever he asks, but for the rest of the world it’s just a cancellation quirk with some weird side-effects (like the time he took an ice quirk and frost formed across his hands.) Cancellation quirks aren’t flashy, they aren’t impressive, and some people don’t like the idea of someone depriving them of their inborn abilities, so his childhood isn’t all that different. (A little gentler than it might have been, a little more sheltered and protected, but while Izuku might be able to steal the fire from Bakugou’s fists, there’s not much he can do about the fists themselves or the sharp words that accompany them, and Bakugou is still a force of personality and a literal child prodigy, and he’s still going to lead the pack however he might choose.)

  When Izuku asks his mother, much later than in canon, if she thinks he could be a hero, Inko has images flash by in her head (heroes hurt by villains, heroes targeted, injuries, and ambulances, and faces plastered all over the media, the broken shells the used to be people that her ex tried to hide from her,) and she thinks of how Izuku has his father’s curls, his father’s ears, how he may even grow into his father’s build some day, and the tears well up before she can stop them. This isn’t what she meant when she’d hoped he could do whatever he wanted; a software designer, an artist, an engineer, a martial artist, a quirk scientist, a doctor, anything that didn’t have his face on the front page and his quirk on full display. But he’s looking at her with those big, watery eyes (her eyes,) and that bright, hopeful smile (Izuku’s smile, no one but his,) and she forces herself to smile back. “Well, that’s a scary thought!” she says, trying to laugh, “My baby, out on the front lines? I might just have a heart attack!” His smile gets tighter, more strained, and Inko scrambles to push forwards. “But, I think… I think. I think you’d be a great hero, sweetheart, if that’s what you really wanted to be.”

(His smile widens and the tears spill over, and he blubbers his way through saying how much that means to him, and Inko swallows the lump in her throat and tells herself that every kid wants to be a hero. Even she wanted to be a hero at one point, and it’s just a phase which he’ll grow out of and get over, and he’ll find something else and stay normal, anonymous, and safe.)

(He doesn’t grow out of it.)

  His encounter with the sludge villain is disastrous. When Izuku starts to panic, when his lungs burn and he realizes he might die, he remembers how his mother said it was alright to use his quirk against people if they were trying to hurt him. He reaches out, and he pulls. A sickly green-brown light jumps into his hands, and the villain is screaming (just like Tsubasa did, and oh no, this is a mutant-type isn’t it?) and then Izuku is kneeling in a puddle of sewage and hacking up slime and the villain…

When All Might arrives, he finds a boy covered in goo, trying to push the slime into a pile with one hand, the other clutched against his chest, while he cries harder than almost anyone the hero had ever seen.

“I didn’t mean to!” Izuku says, or tries to, over and over and over again, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I never meant…” He looks up at All Might, and in the moment he doesn’t recognize him yet. “I tried to put it back, I swear, I tried! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just wanted him to stop—”

And All Might looks at the goo all over the ground, and he thinks, Oh.

He thinks, I’m too late.

And he doesn’t have time, he has maybe fifteen minutes left, but this poor boy can’t even recognize the number one hero standing in front of him he’s so distressed, and Yagi was too late, and a child had to kill the villain he’d been trying to chase down, so he wipes the slime off Izuku’s face, off his shoulders, makes an attempt to get it out of his hair, and gently tells the boy that they’re going to walk away. They’re going to walk out of this underpass and into the sun, and that this will get reported later, but first we’re going to step into the sun, and maybe you could tell me what you did, my boy?

Izuku doesn’t look at him straight on, but he wipes his eyes (it does nothing,) and lets his hero walk him out to a bench where they sit, and he attempts to recount what happened. How the villain came out of the sewer, how he tried to run and wasn’t fast enough, how it wanted to wear him, how it tried to drown him… “And I didn’t…” he hiccups, choking on his words.

“You didn’t want to die.” Izuku nods. All Might sighs. “Perfectly understandable, my boy.”

“So I took his quirk,” Izuku whispers, and All Might’s blood runs cold. “But he’s a mutant, wasn’t he? His quirk held his body together, he couldn’t survive without it, and I… I…” The tears return, just as hard as before. “I tried to put it back! I didn’t mean to k-k-k-”  He’s unintelligible again for a little while after that, but eventually, Izuku holds out his still-clenched fist, white-knuckled and shaking, and asks, “And what do I do with it now?”

Yagi has never seen the metaphysical representation of a quirk before, but he knows what he’s looking at the moment the boy opens his hand. It hovers above his palm like a particularly sickly star, still shining despite its proper owner’s death, and neither of them has any idea what to do.

(He winds up taking Izuku to the police station to report it, and Naomasa has the oddest look on his face when he gets a good look at the kid. People with proper training and emotional-regulation quirks talk Izuku through it, and but he keeps looking at that star and asking them what he’s supposed to do. Eventually it’s suggested he find a way to store it, since Izuku says he does have a way, but it’s not pleasant, and he thought the police might want it for evidence. They remind him that no one else can touch it, no container can hold it, and Naomasa takes down his contact info and promises they’ll call him in to bring it out again if they need it.)

(And then, in front of everyone, Izuku swallows the star.)

(He’s done it before, at home, with his mother’s quirk when he needed his hands free for whatever reason, and he knows what happens next. He rolls up his sleeve to show them the small glassy bubble that forms in his skin, the same putrid green as the slime, and says he can get it out again, but it hurts a little when he does that. He finishes answering any other questions and leaves with one of the therapists, who promises to walk him home and keep him from breaking down again.)

(Toshi asks Naomasa why he looks like he’s seen a ghost. Naomasa tells him the boy reminded him of someone he met long ago, and also that he needs to go swear the entire precinct to secrecy probably; just quiet enough that it’s clearly not meant to be heard, Nao adds, “I really hope I’m wrong about this.” He refuses to elaborate when asked.)

---

Beyond that, I have little ideas for certain events, like how the entrance exam, Aizawa’s test, and the Sports Festival might go down. I know exactly how the fight with Stain would happen. And I’m probably never gonna write this proper, but if anyone wants to hear me gush while I avoid the stuff I’m actually supposed to be doing, y’all know where to find me.