#after the leaks asks i just had no energy to reply to anything haha

[timelessbibliophile]

I feel like they purposely brought rina back to make ej overcome his fear of losing his gf to Ricky , and I can guarantee u that clip has no flirting in it , it’s def not Ricky intentions to be a home wrecker or Gina intention to “cheat” on ej, they just needed closure

Agreed, even if Rina did develop as a romance this season (which might or might not happen), I don't think either of them would go about it with an intention to hurt EJ. People are really bugging me when they say Gina's a "cheater" or Ricky's a "home wrecker" because saying that about them means they don't know the characters at all. But that's beside the point.

That's true, they need closure, even I who don't ship Rina found it a little abrupt to not have almost no Rina interactions in 2B. It would be best for Portwell and Ricky to just get that out of the way (and by that I mean just clear the air and be friends again).

[thdorkmagnet]

Heyo everyone!! Happy National Hug Day!! Haha, so when I heard the news that today was all about one of the greatest forms of affection that exists, I of course had to take advantage of it and write a Starco short to celebrate! Haha I mean hugs are like 90% what that ship is. Maybe 91? I don’t know I’m too tired to do math XD So anyways I hope you all enjoy and I hope you all have someone in your life who you can celebrate today with a hug of your own. But if not, then please settle for my internet hugs.... *HUGS~~!!!* 

Oh and just so everyone knows this takes place in my Light of the Sun and Stars AU. Okay thanks, enjoy. 

Today had felt like it would never end. 

Star couldn't remember the last time she had been this exhausted from royal duties. When she had been filling in for her parents the days had been long and hard but she had thought those days were behind her. Now she had plenty of friends to help her and lend her a hand. Except today.

Today had been a disaster the moment she woke up. Between helping plan renovations on poor Monsters homes as part of her Wellness Act and judging some art contest or whatever for her parents, Star already had a full day of work. But on top of that the MHC had decided again to have another 'emergency meeting' and throw off her whole schedule. The 'emergency' was nothing more than a few rumors circulating about Monsters trying to overthrow the Mewmans. It had taken everything Star had in her not to roll her eyes. Did these guys seriously believe everything they heard on the Mirror Web? She managed to disprove all of the accusations but that had taken hours and she had been forced to endure so, so many lectures on why treating Monsters equally was a bad idea.

By the time she finally got back to Mewni she was ready to explode with anger. And she still had a few hours of work ahead of her. 

Finally, Star’s endlessly long day drew to a close, the blonde royal never happier in her life to see the sun set on the horizon even if she sadly missed the chance to watch it with Marco. By the time she was finished with all her work stars had begun blinking into view in the inky black sky above. But Star didn’t care about any of that, all she wanted to do was get to her room and rest, maybe sleep for the next hundred years or until Marco gave her a kiss to wake her, whichever came first.

The girl’s whole body was slumped forward as she trudged through the halls to her room, moving at a pace that would make a snail look like a track star. Her feet ached, her eyelids felt so heavy it was a constant fight to keep them open, and her hair was a tangled, frizzy mess. But none of that mattered right now because with every step she was getting closer and closer to her bed. The very thought of being enveloped in her warm sheets made her sigh in longing. 

She managed to get into her room without falling asleep on the floor and she closed the door leaning heavily against it. She smiled at her brightly lit room, thinking to herself, it’s good to be home. But before she could crawl over to her bed, she heard a familiar voice call her name. Star turned to be greeted by a smiling face and bright, brown eyes, which hovered mere inches away from her, hopping up and down in excitement. The splash of red that covered the top half of his body seemed to express his exuberant mood perfectly and his spinning suns were almost hypnotizing with their glow.

“Hey Marco,” Star greeted as cheerfully as she could, though she lacked the energy for enthusiasm.

Marco didn’t seem to notice his girlfriend’s tired state as he continued hopping around the room. “I’m so glad you're back! I could barely wait for you to get back!”

Star grinned tiredly at her boyfriend, rubbing at her eye numbly. “Oh why? Is there something going on?” 

Marco giggled as if she had just said the funniest thing he had ever heard. “Did you forget what today was?” 

She tried not to gaze longingly at her bed and forced her eyes to remain focused on Marco, wanting to give him the full attention he deserved, even if she didn’t feel up for it right now. She blinked, taking way too long for her brain to register his question and struggled to form any coherent thought to answer him but nothing came to her lethargic mind. “Is it someone’s birthday?” she guessed, massaging her eyes with her palms.

“No, silly. It’s Thursday and you know what that means…” the boy began, before giving her a sly grin to see if she caught on or not.

Realization hit Star like a train and she gasped. “Date night.”

“Exactly!” Marco exclaimed, pumping his fists into the air, overjoyed his girlfriend had finally remembered. “And you said the other day that for tonight’s date we could go see Ol’ Youthful. It’s said it only goes off once every 37 years and tonight is that night! If we don’t go see it today we won’t be able to again until we’re old!” The boy was again hopping around the room, his excitement too much for him to bare, needing to express his enthusiasm through movement. 

Star took a moment to let all of this sink in, before she bit her lip nervously. “Oh right? That?” she muttered, burying her face in her hands. She had forgotten all about her promise and had instead used up all her energy on dumb stuff like running Mewni instead of the things that mattered, like Marco. The weight of her bad decision pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She didn’t want to disappoint Marco, not for anything. She would rather die than see the smile fall from his face and she could tell just how much he was looking forward to this. 

But while her heart said one thing, her body disagreed. All her aches and pains over the day’s long, strenuous activities making themselves known, aggressively arguing her desire to please her bestie. She couldn’t physically hold up traveling all the way to Earth, there was just no way. She felt a few disheartened tears leak out of her eyes and drip onto her palms and she wiped them away ferociously with the little energy she had left. 

Then she looked solemnly over to Marco, watching with a heavy heart as he continued bouncing around her room and regrettably opened her mouth to speak. “Uhh, Marco.” She paused, waiting until the hooded teen met her eye and the hope and joy in his expression made her feel like the lowest creature in any dimension. “About date night…” Star didn’t have the heart to finish the sentence, a hand rubbing nervously up and down her arm as she struggled to speak. 

Marco cocked his head to the side and finally took a good, long look at his girlfriend since she entered her room. He noticed the thick bags that hung heavily under her eyes, her shaking legs as if they were struggling to keep her upright, and her slouched form. She looked exhausted and half-dead and all thoughts of date night flew from his head, now solely focused on helping his blonde bestie. “Are you okay, Star?” he asked worriedly, stepping over to her to give her a more thorough examination. Or catch her in case she collapsed.

Star shook her head. “I had a really long day. Like seriously, realllly long. Like all-I-want-to-do-is-lay-down-and-not-move-for-the-next-24-hours long. And I just don’t think I have it in me to go see that young thing you were talking about.”

“Ol’ Youthful?”

“Yeah,” Star said with a nod of her head. She hung her head in shame before muttering sadly, “I’m sorry, Marco. I hate to disappoint you.”

Marco stared at his girlfriend in shock for a moment, before it softened into a loving grin. Without a word he pulled Star into a tight hug, holding her close to his chest and wrapping his arms around her. Star blushed, not expecting the sudden hug and found herself leaning heavily into her boyfriend’s body. Even though Marco wasn’t exactly known as the strongest Mewman alive, far from it, his hold on her was unwavering, holding her upright through sheer force of will, even though Star could feel her legs going out on her, surprising her more than the actual hug had. 

“M-Marco.” she whispered, feeling her heart cheekmarks thumping in time to her heartbeat. 

“It’s okay, Star,” the boy finally said, giving her body a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to feel bad for anything. We don’t have to go see Ol’ Youthful. We can just stay here and rest.”

Star bit her lip, feeling her stomach churn with guilt. “Are you sure? I know you really wanted to see it.”

Marco nodded, still not breaking off the hug. “Yeah, it’s fine. Your health is way more important to me than some geyser.”

“You don’t have to miss it!” Star supplied, pulling out of the hug so she could fix him with a supportive grin, wanting to find some way to make it up to her boyfriend. “I mean just cause I don’t feel like it doesn’t mean you can’t go! I bet Jackie and Janna would want to see it! Heck, I bet if you asked, Tom, Ponyhead, and Kelly would all take you, too!”

Marco stared deep into his girlfriend’s eyes, seeing her burning need to please him and her own lingering guilt buried deep in her stunning pupils. A small, flicker of emotion washed over him, like a tiny, dull heartbeat, whispering to him Star’s true thoughts thanks to their bond. And because of this Marco didn’t even hesitate as he shook his head firmly no, much to his royal friend’s surprise. “No. I won’t go without you, Star. It just wouldn’t be the same. If we can’t both go, then I don’t wanna go at all.”

Star’s gaze softened, unable to hide the flicker of joy that flashed across her face. “Really? Are you sure?”

Marco nodded with no regrets. “Positive. I don’t care what we do, so long as I can do it with you.” 

Star couldn’t hold back the coo as her eyes shined with love and joy. “Awww, Marco!”

Marco gave her a bright grin as he added, “Besides, we can always see the next eruption in 37 years.”

Star giggled, before gently kissing his cheek. “It’s a date,” she replied tenderly.

After that, Marco made a pile of pillows and blankets for the two of them to lay in and rest, while Star fought back against the narrow grip of exhaustion, pushing it back so she could stay awake and be with her favorite person for a bit. Marco lay back on the cumfy cushiony mountain he had crafted, before Star lay down on his chest, the boy holding her close in a warm hug. Star snuggled deep into the soft embrace as her consciousness slowly faded. The seconds ticked by at a slow speed, while the two Mewmans cuddled each other on the floor, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful. 

“Marco?” Star whispered, after a while, her voice sluggish as the last of her mind fought against the exhaustion, needing to know one more thing before she could sleep in peace.

“Hmm?” Marco muttered, his voice ringing with the same life and energy as before but his body still and relaxed. 

“Are you sure you don’t regret this?” Star asked, feeling stupid for asking.

Marco shook his head lazily, before whispering, “Actually, Star. There is no place I’d rather be.” 

And Star knew he meant it.

Star smiled. There was something about Marco’s hold that made Star feel safe and warm. Like she could melt into him and become a part of him, just existing blissfully inside his heart where she no doubt belonged. There were so many uncertain things in Star’s hectic world but as long as her Marco was holding her nothing could touch them, no darkness could enter into the world that existed in their arms. And so, she gave in, sighing happily and snuggling deeper into his hoodie, loving the way the soft fabric tickled her skin before falling into a long, blissful sleep. 

[zestycompress]

Ultimate Duo! CH. 2

Forgot to post it here.. oops

anyway chapter three is gonna come out.. probably today or tomorrow. i’m on a roadtrip with my family so i probably have more time to write now

AO3 Link

The car malfunctioned, giving the Japanese tourist some time to catch up with Giorno. Coincidence? Probably. Looks like he needs to get a new car. At least he was able to use Gold Experience and turn his luggage into a frog, he didn’t want to leave empty-handed. Too bad he lost money to the security by paying them to keep quiet. Of course, he could always get it back by pickpocketing some unlucky people.

The blond teen turned around to see a man dragging a shovel. One of his eyes was watery, and at that moment, he knew who that was.

“You’re Giorno Giovanna, right?”

So he knows his name.

Giorno nodded. The man turned around, gesturing to a bench with his head and walked towards it. “We haven’t met before, have we? Giorno, you have any clue who I am?”

“Leaky-Eye Luca. You were in a dispute a while back and when it turned ugly, you took a knife to the face but kept fighting and swinging despite your wound,” He replied. “The complications from that little scrap left you with a perpetually leaking eye, hence your moniker.”

Luca sat down while Giorno stood in front of him. “Here, take a load off and make yourself comfortable.”

The half-Japanese teen stared in silence.

“What’s the holdup? Pop a squat. Looking up at you is hurting my eyes.” He said, Giorno moved over and sat next to him.

“So, how old are you?”

“Fifteen and change.”

“What, really?! Haha! You’re a baby,” Luca grinned and laughed, but his face quickly changed. “Here’s the thing, Giorno, any true friendship has to be built on the firm foundation of the three T’s. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you?” He wiped his eye as he spoke while Giorno stared ahead. “In case you’re drawing a blank, the first one is truth, the second one is tolerance, last but not least you have the third T, tribute, and voila the three T’s of true friendship.”

Giorno turned his head to the older man and asked, “Was there something you needed?”

Luca quickly grabbed his shovel and pushed it right against the teenager’s cheek. “I wasn’t finished showing you the ropes so shut your face hole! Nobody said you could ask questions, as for what I needed, I hear you started a hustle at the airport, huh? Surely you can see how this would be confusing, after all, I don’t remember receiving any tribute from you-” Giorno could really use a distraction right about now. “-and without tribute, how could we remain true friends? Now hand over your wallet.”

“Signore, you’ve got it wrong. I’ve already paid your tribute. I don’t have any money,” Giorno said, only making Luca angrier.

“You talking about that guard?! You have to be a special kind of stupid to think I’m working with that old- huh?” He stared at the bizarre image in Giorno’s wallet of the one and only Dio Brando, but he didn’t know that.. “What the hell is this, a family photo?” He brushed it off and continued to shout. “I know you’re holding out on me, so fork over the cash right now blondie!”

“Signore Luca, I really hate having to repeat myself and as I’ve already said, I don’t owe you anything.”

“Huh?”

“Now please don’t make me say it a third time-”

Luca swung his shovel at Giorno, almost hitting him. A frog - the one that used to be that certain Japanese tourist’s luggage - appeared and was next to his foot. It then hopped onto his leg.

“Time out, kid. What the hell is that?” It’s… a frog… isn’t it obvious?

It continued to hop upwards on Giorno. “So he came back…”

“Flick it off!” The man shouted.

“No, the frog has nothing to do with this. Please don’t ask me to do that.” He responded.

Luca raised his shovel and pointed at the innocent creature. “That wasn’t a freakin’ suggestion, amico, and you still haven’t paid the taxes you owe! Are you seriously going to refuse both of my orders?! You’ve got some brass balls, kid! (more like steel balls haha am i right sbr fans) No one says no to Leaky-Eye Luca twice!”

“This frog is a living creature with the will of his own,” Uh, yeah, we know that. “He thinks and acts for himself. Let’s go our separate ways.” Giorno really wanted to go back to his place, even if that meant sitting in awkward silence with Kars. This guy was holding him up.

Luca swung his shovel at the frog despite Giorno’s warnings. The small green creature slipped out from underneath the tool. Unfortunately for Leaky-Eye Luca, he was dead, all because he tried hitting a frog. Should’ve listened, now the back of his head was caved in. The frog transformed back into luggage and Giorno walked away.

~~~

Kars tried on the clothes Giorno bought for them. To be honest, they weren’t that bad. Obviously, they could be better, the white collared shirt was too plain for Kars. He pulled out some other clothes that could be fitting. He examined a thin turtleneck sweater which was a wine purple color, similar to his hair color.

Good enough.

He already completed reading every book Giorno owned and he wasn’t planning on rereading them. Kars practically memorized every word written on the pages. Staying inside Giorno’s room isn’t something he’s going to do. If the blond teen returns before he does, he better be prepared for waking up in the middle of the night to see Kars entering his room by compressing his body to go underneath the door.

Obviously, it’s not going to be a pleasant sight, especially when you’re only half-awake.

As he walked through the streets of Italy, he received many stares from random humans. Kars either saw admiration or envy in their eyes and sometimes fear, he couldn’t blame them. After all, he was the perfect being. And he was pretty tall too, he towered over everyone else. Not only that, but the Pillar Man was also pretty intimidating, not that much of a surprise.

People scurried out of his way with their head down to avoid eye contact with Kars. If they looked up at him, he would send a cold glare and force them to quickly turn away. But not everybody was scared off. A few people politely waved and smiled, maybe even wink at Kars. Some humans were bold enough to ask him to dinner. Of course, he harshly declined their offer. It wasn’t the first time a human requested to have a meal with him. Kars is fully aware of how attractive he is compared to others.

Soon, the Pillar Man found himself near a beach, it was mostly empty. There was just one single person standing on the dock holding a fishing rod. Kars would’ve ignored them and continued walking, but a part of him wanted to go towards the person. He tried convincing himself that he only wanted to go near them because of their bizarre lime-green hair. Honestly, he wasn’t a big fan of it.

When Kars got closer, he felt the same kind of energy as Giorno’s Stand, Gold Experience. It caught him a bit off guard. This person had their Stand out… while they were fishing? Now he was confused, why would he need a Stand to fish? Did it help? Kars needed answers.

“You.”

The person shrieked loudly, dropping their fishing rod, turning around with a fearful expression and wide eyes.

“You’re a coward, aren’t you?” Kars sighed. “I can tell just by looking at you. Now, tell me your name.”

The person stumbled over their words a few times before blurting out “Pesci!”

By their appearance and the sound of their voice, Kars concluded that this human was indeed male. He stared at him for a while before asking another question. “Where’s your Stand?”

Pesci panicked, looking around to see if Prosciutto was nearby. He just left to go smoke, knowing full well that Pesci hates the smell. He probably needed to go buy more cigarettes and was now coming back.

...The blond man was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey! Answer me!”

“I-I, um, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” The only option he had was to play dumb. It wasn’t working.

“What kind of fool do you take me for? I can feel its energy, tell me, what are you using your Stand for?”

Pesci couldn’t take it, the man was just too intimidating! Hopefully, he’s not from another gang, a rival one to be exact, the whole team would get angry at him for revealing information. Even if it was about his Stand, weaknesses would be exposed and he would get taken out.

“My Stand is Beach Boy, it's the fishing rod! I’m only using it to fish, don’t hurt me!” He shut his eyes and tensed up, unable to bear staring into the tall man’s eyes.

Kars blinked. The damn fishing rod was a Stand? Did Giorno seriously lie about how only Stand users could see Stands? He picked up the dark blue fishing rod and examined it. It certainly was pretty odd.

“I thought only Stand users could see Stands, was I wrong?” He hummed, poking the skull on Beach Boy.

“...Well, that is true but… only for most Stands… there are some exceptions I guess…” Pesci replied, wincing when Kars turned his head to him.

“Is that so?” A smirk appeared on his face. Looks like he learned something new.

Before Kars could ask any more questions, the sound of footsteps alerted him. A blond man with a dark-colored suit stood there, frowning. The Pillar Man returned the same look. Pesci felt relieved that Prosciutto finally came back, he was probably going to get scolded and punished but that’s better than answering any more questions about his Stand.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Prosciutto stepped closer, glaring into Kars’s eyes without a hint of fear. Despite the man being a foot taller than him, he wasn’t intimidated, or at least he didn’t appear to be. That’s something Pesci admired him for. The intense staring continued and Pesci started to get uncomfortable.

“Leave,” Prosciutto commanded. “Now.”

“Or what? What are you going to do?” He laughed. “You’re just a pitiful human. There’s nothing you could do that can hurt me.”

“Is that what you think?” The blond man hissed. “Fine, I’m sure The Grateful Dead will change your mind!”

Kars felt something grabbing onto his legs but didn’t look. He knew it was just his Stand, so why panic? He found amusement in Prosciutto’s bewildered expression. The Grateful Dead wasn’t working. Even though the Stand’s making contact with Kars, he isn’t aging. Was there some kind of Stand ability that canceled the effect? Prosciutto glared at his Stand as if doing that would start the aging process. Nothing happened.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Kars hummed, his smug grin grew wider which made the Italian man more frustrated.

“Impossible! You should be getting older, more weaker!” He growled, his Stand’s grip became tighter. “Pesci, do something!”

“O-Oh! Right!” He was about to summon his Stand before he foolishly realized that Kars already had it in his hand. What was he supposed to do, reach out and grab the damn thing?! The Pillar Man looked down at him, sending shivers down the young man’s spine.

...Surprisingly, he returned Beach Boy. Prosciutto eyed him suspiciously. Pesci hesitated, then quickly snatched his Stand back. He stared at Kars, trying to figure out if there was a hidden motive, but he wasn’t sure.

“Demonstrate your Stand’s abilities, I’d like to see how it works. Don’t keep me waiting, I can wait all day but I’d prefer not to.” He said.

The hook and fishing line was now inside Kars, he can feel it traveling up his arm. It was a strange sensation. However, he couldn’t see it moving. There was no outline of the hook and line in his skin. The hook found its way to Kars’s heart, but Pesci became hesitant. Was this all a trap? He glanced at Prosciutto, the man was silently encouraging him to use Beach Boy. Something was off about Kars. Instead of finishing off the two Stand users, he instead waited for their Stands to do something. Waiting for your foe to display their abilities can help with figuring out their weakness, but it can also put yourself in danger. Kars did not seem to care about that, he just seemed curious about their Stands. Prosciutto kept his guard up, you can never be too careful.

Pesci used Beach Boy’s hook to tear apart the beating heart, but again, Kars seemed to be unaffected.

...Or perhaps it just didn’t work.

There was simply no way to kill Kars. The sun was no longer his enemy, Stands were useless, even lava couldn’t do it. He was the perfect, undefeatable being.

Kars felt the hook desperately tugging on his heart as Pesci became more visibly anxious. Prosciutto was also getting quite upset. The Pillar Man has never been so entertained before. Chuckling, he walked away from the duo.

“That’s enough, I supposed. Pesci, your Stand has potential, you know that, right? However,” He glanced at Prosciutto with a bit of a frown. “What’s the point of yours? It doesn’t seem like it can do anything interesting.”

As he left, Prosciutto muttered curses and insults, not knowing that Kars could hear what he said. Pesci thought the compliment was rather nice, even though the man was strange.

If only he knew his name.

~~~

He ran into that Japanese tourist again, this time he found out he was no ordinary being. And he didn’t have to get a new car after all! Well, maybe someone took it after he ran away. But that didn’t matter, the tourist was a Stand user. He was the reason his car came to a stop. Luckily, Giorno got away again. The stranger didn’t seem so bad though. He had a good soul and Giorno felt a bit of pity for robbing him.

He opened up the window in the funicular and stared at the passing buildings. Before he could think about what he’ll do next, he heard a coin drop. A man wearing a white suit with oddly shaped black dots appeared and picked it up.

“This yours?” He asked Giorno.

[billdenbrough]

so, a while ago, @audraphillipps tagged this post with a tag saying that bichie were on ron/harry levels, and like... i have literally not stopped thinking about it since? i was talking to @neibolttrio when nat’s reblog popped up on my dash and i went completely feral (ara can confirm, and also was right there with me) bc there’s just like. so much there!!

i know i said in the neville/eddie ask that i tend to think mapping characters onto each other is reductive, and i stand by that (there’s a difference between loose parallels and trying to make them fit neatly, you know? and sometimes equating the characters isn’t the most effective way to express that), and it’s not even what nat was saying, but like. there are parallels

just to get the basics down: bill/harry, richie/ron

(which is interesting bc @benverlesbians and i were having a discussion (well, in tags) where i posited stan as logos and eddie as pathos, and bc jem is galaxy brain, she carried it home to position richie as ethos, and i stand by our choices, but for the golden trio, i’d put harry as ethos and ron as pathos and hermione as logos (like i think there’s other combinations that fit too, but i think this fits best for me), which is interesting. not bc i think the parallels need to map perfectly, but it’s just really fucking fascinating to me how people can shift in different contexts, like new dynamics lead to new positionings... [siken vc: what can you know about a person? they shift in the light. you can’t light up all sides at once] anyway tangent over)

like on the most basic of levels, bill leads his friendship group, and richie is his Loyal Best Friend who follows him everywhere, even places he doesn’t want to go (ron LITERALLY invokes the idea of following. “follow the spiders,” he says, twelve and terrified and going anyway, because harry’s going, because hermione’s hurt and needs them, because hagrid’s been accused, because ron loves his friends)

i think something we don’t talk about super often (at least recently, i don’t want to presume about earlier content i missed) is how anger plays its part in bill’s story, in terms of the degree to which it motivates his quest to kill It. like at one point in the book he even frames it as “using his friends, risking their lives — to settle the score for his dead brother”, which i think is indicative of the anger/desire for revenge that drives it (and that’s not all that motivates him, but it’s definitely a major component)—-that sense of revenge isn’t present as much in the films, mostly because bill is desperate to try hold onto the idea that georgie is still alive (haha, harry after sirius goes through the veil, anyone?), but it’s still there, i think, mostly in the moments bill charges off (even when all his friends are shouting at him to wait or not go) bc he’s so determined that It won’t get away, not this fucking time. and that’s something true of harry too, the way his anger can consume him. we see it throughout the whole series, but order of the phoenix is the most relevant part rn, with how enraged he is after sirius’ death. how gasping and jagged and burning with fury he is. he tries to hurt bellatrix, wants to hurt her in ways we’ve never seen from him, and it’s desperate furious grief leading him to chase her from the room with the veil. and there’s a line, a little later, that always hits me in the chest: when harry is shouting I DON’T CARE and destroying dumbledore’s office, the reply is “you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it”. which honestly is just generally applicable to the losers, given how much heart they have and how much trauma they endure, but i look at baby book bill, with his revenge-seeking, and i look at jaeden’s bill, with his trembling voice but resolute expression as he gives the “walking into this house is easier than walking into my own” speech, and this quote hits me in the chest

(wrt the bill quote abt risking their lives: it’s important, i think, bc it’s incredibly cognisant of what he’s asking, which is illuminating. but ig to balance it against some things losers say, so that it’s... like he leads them there, absolutely, but they all follow him, and that’s important too. they do choose to, and their choice matters, it’s not just on him. anyway something eddie says, while looking at bill (and it’s not like. in the context of dying for bill’s quest, but it’s got the love and hero worship mention that suggests it applies to more than just the moment), “some stuff has to be done even if there is a risk. that’s the first important thing i ever found out i didn’t find out from my mother”. also, when the werewolf has bill, he’s shouting for richie to go, to get out, and richie stays and tries to save him instead. and i think both their choices there matter)

richie, as much as he Jokes, is one of the more pragmatic and resourceful losers, and really fucking smart, and so often underestimated. (hello, master strategist ron weasley. hello, prefect who literally nobody expected. hello, insecurity) like... we all know how richie is brainy, but also, like. when he’s not clouded by his own fears, he sees things with clarity so sharp it could cut you. (“It’s a monster,” Richie said flatly. “Some kind of monster. Some kind of monster right here in Derry. And it’s killing kids.”) there’s a line, bill says it when talking abt richie and eddie in fights, and it’s about how richie simply can’t keep his mouth shut, like he has to insult bowers, even when he’s got his hands on him. which is actually pretty harry energy, but ron’s the closest thing amongst any of the hp characters to a trashmouth, ron’s the one who doesn’t hesitate to be rude on behalf of his friends (harry tends to be worked up when he says these things; ron’s just naturally got that energy. “light reading? that’s light reading?” is the same energy as “can only virgins see this? is that why i’m not seeing this shit?” don’t @ me), ron’s the one who drags harry for filth when he’s being an idiot. ron follows harry, even when he’s mad about it. and boy oh boy. richie is ambitious, richie is always practicing his Voices because he wants them to be worth a damn one day, richie is constantly trying. and ron’s erised is based in simply wanting to stand out in a family full of people he thinks are more interesting or valued than him, amongst best friends who are more incredible, which is a different motivation, sure, but look at his dreams. look at how high he rises when he lets himself want it. richie’s always doing Voices because it’s easier to Pretend to be someone else than be himself, and ron is constantly scrabbling for purchase in a world where he thinks he’ll never be worthy

(there’s room for discussion about how ron’s fears are primarily creature based—spiders, werewolves, the grim; how sirius hurt him, even unintentionally, how he was betrayed by peter, how his father was attacked by a snake, how his brother was attacked by a werewolf—and how richie has his famous werewolf, but that’s more abstract of an analysis than i’m doing here, i’m just thinking about the parallels, so this is more throwing a thought out.)

and, boy oh boy. my favourite part of this. i mean, we get ron and harry always together (consider: neibolt house (in the book, when bill and richie go there; in the film, when they’re confronting the doors, separated from eddie) as their chamber of secrets), them being best friends, ron having harry’s back even against his own family (ron angrily tearing up percy’s letter and calling him a git, esp after harry doesn’t know how to react in a way that doesn’t show how much it upsets him, has my entire fucking heart), harry having ron as “what [he’ll] sorely miss”... but. but but but. we also have the goblet of fire fight. even more crucially, we have the blow up in deathly hallows. they fight, they fight, and it’s bad. harry and bill you could compare a little with their focus, ig, but the crucial part is ron and richie. ron throws harry’s parents in his face when he’s terrified for his family (and under the influence of a horcrux); richie says georgie’s dead and for the first time all film, doesn’t take it back, not when eddie’s gone and stanley’s terrified and ben’s leaking blood and richie doesn’t want to die, doesn’t want his friends to die. it’s best friends fighting viciously, with something too sharp to hold—-it’s words that cut like knives, fists in the middle of the street and leaving when they’ve always followed you.

but. it’s also coming back. when harry needs him, ron is there. they haven’t had a chance to talk about anything, but ron is saving him. when bev goes missing, when bill goes to richie, even though thing are still fractured, still angry, richie comes back. richie follows. even when they haven’t talked about anything as far as we can tell, even when there’s no resolution to their fight, richie’s the one who stands up and makes the choice that mobilises the losers, the one who tells bill everything bad that’s happened from following him but follows him yet again, doesn’t leave him behind, stays and saves him. it’s about the coming back, the saving, the i’d follow you anywhere of it all. like god but georgie/bill is the dynamic that informs chapter one & richie/bill is the dynamic that drives it // lily/harry is the dynamic that informs the hp series but ron/harry is the one that bookends it—-the first person he ever chooses, who ever chooses him in return, and he’s right there at the end, when all is well. billrichie ronharry best friend RIGHTS

not really part of this but other things that make me scream: bill and richie on silver when richie’s catatonic/harry and ron when ron’s out of it bc of the brains (and also, now that i think abt it, injured from sirius’ bite). ron clinging to harry’s side in the forbidden forest w aragog/“i’m stickin’ with you, big bill”. ron imitating harry’s parseltongue to get to the chamber of secrets, taking hermione down the path they took/richie remembering confronting the doors with bill, trying to take eddie down the path they took.

[sanchoyo]

sksksk coffee shop au + roommate au for shigaraki and spinner bc i know u lov them

WHY WAS REPLACING THEIR HATRED FOR HEROES TO A HATRED FOR CUSTOMERS SO EASY. ilu thank you I do lov them

                                                  _________________

     Shuichi was so goddamn tired of his backwater town, full of small-minded people, so when he realized he’d finally saved enough to move to the city, the relief was so overwhelming he started crying.

The City! Full of opportunities, and no one- or at least, not as many people, would look twice at him! He’d saved enough for two months of rent, plus utilities and food! 

…For the small town rates. In his excitement, he might have forgotten how much pricier The City was; shattered were his dreams of lofty penthouses. But..he could look for roommates! The idea made him nervous, but this was The City! He could reinvent himself as someone who liked to be social! 

…And his money was running lower every day he squatted at the shitty motel, and every day his mom called, and he still didn’t have an answer to soothe her endless worries. He wasn’t going back home, he was too damn stubborn.

But by the weeks end, his hope had nearly gone out. As he got more desperate, shitty places started looking better- he could ignore a little mold! A terrible draft, leaking roof and no heat? Well, better than rats! 

There was a wanted ad on craigslist (yes, shady drug deal craigslist- he’d gotten some cheap, cool stuff (like swords!) in the past though, so don’t knock it!) for a roommate. The listing showed a nice apartment- it was no penthouse, but..it didn’t have mold, or visible cracks in the wall. It was short and to the point:

-Roommate wanted. No heroes, No cops. 20000 Yen / mo. Utilities included. Reply to set up interview.

…And why was it so cheap? The no cops and no heroes part threw him off for only a second; but he wasn’t exactly a fan of either, so no big deal. He replied, asking for the interview, and only got an address and date back, for tomorrow. Thank god. This was it! He was going to get a roommate, and get started in The City, and not get any organs harvested, probably! 

                                                       ——————-

He had the jitters; the potential roommate, (potential organ harvester), wanted to meet at an ungodly hour, so he decided to fill his day with caffeine. Because more jitters was what he needed, and it was cold out so it was totally justified, and looked like a more adult choice than an energy drink, even if that’s what he was craving. He needed something huge, with too much sugary shit on it.

“Uh..large..mocha..?”

The menu was practically hieroglyphic to him.

“A venti?” The man behind the counter asked. Shuichi floundered. He’d never been in a real coffee shop like this; he was a total fast food junkie, his old town only having a single McDonalds.

“Uh, is that the big one?”

The man was enjoying this. Where other people might have been helpful, he was just grinning, leaning on the counter. Shuichi was even more flustered when he got a good look, because powder blue hair tied up into a ponytail framed sharp red eyes: this wasn’t an average barista, this was a Hot Barista. And his gaze wasn’t letting up, not even a little.

“Yeah, it’s the big one. This is your first time ordering here, isn’t it?”

“You don’t have to be rude about it.” He fumbled. “Yeah, a venti.”

“Wasn’t trying to be rude. Actually, how about this. I throw in a few espresso shots for free.”

“Really?! Sure!” He had no idea what that meant, but the man’s sweet smile convinced him.

“Okay, what’s the name for that?” 

“Sh..Spinner!” It was a snap decision; Being in The City, he needed to totally reinvent himself! Shuichi Iguichi was a socially anxious mess, depressed from a small town’s small ideas; Spinner was a cool, brave, outgoing guy who wasn’t afraid to try new things in his coffee or talk to new people!

It only took a minute; at this hour, not a lot of people were waiting around.

                                                        ______

He was shaking so bad when he got to the apartment and couldn’t actually feel his sky-rocking heart anymore.

“Fuckin’ asshole poisoned me, stupid city-” His teeth were chattering, and he pulled his thin jacket around himself tighter. He’d downed the massive cup of coffee in one go because it tasted good! But something was definitely wrong, his heart had never raced this fast in his whole life. Even after several energy drinks on a serious gaming night! 

The place looked normal, maybe a sketchy neighborhood, but nothing too bad.

A single knock on the door was all it took before it nearly flung off it’s hinges.

“Omigosh hiii! You must be the new roommate!” A blonde girl was grinning up at him with fangs bared. “What’s your name? I’m Toga!”

“Uh- I haven’t- I’m not really a roommate yet, I just g-”

“Toga, give the guy some space! I’m Jin, don’t even think about coming in my room or I’ll kill you! Haha, but actually come in whenever you want, don’t listen to me!”

“Uh-” 

“Honestly, you’re both crowding him. Give the boy some space.” A..magician..? Said. Yes. A Magician. Right.

The City was wild. More people kept popping out of rooms…

“Hey.” A man sitting on the couch waved. “Dabi.”

A woman beside him waved a hand too, grinning behind stylish glasses. “Magne, but everybody calls me big sis, so don’t be formal~”

“Uh. Sh..Spinner. Am I at the right place?”

“Rents cheap ‘cause we all live here! Pretty cushy, right?” Toga spun her arms, as if to show him the living room. It..was nice enough, but for this many people? “Not that all of us hafta pay, but it’s good for people in need! Tomura’s so nice like that-”

“Kurogiri does the renting out for the landlord because he’s usually busy.” The magician informed him. “But he’s out this evening running errands, so you’ll have to talk to Tomura.”

“S-Sure. Where-”

“Over at the end of the hall.” Magne informed him. Everyone had gone oddly quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos earlier.

“Good luck, Spinner!” Jin saluted. “We won’t forget you!”

“He isn’t dead yet.” Dabi deadpanned. He wanted to think they were joking; but could he be sure? 

He knocked on the door labeled ‘KEEP OUT’, and slowly twisted the knob. The room was pitch black except a game pause screen from a computer, illuminating crushed soda cans and powder blue hair.

No fucking way.

“You’re the coffee guy!”

“How are you still standing?” Gone was the clean uniform with too many buttons and the messy cute ponytail; the guy was in black pajamas and looked like he’d slammed hard drugs or something; his eyebags looked pretty serious in this lighting. 

“Do you get off on trying to give customers heart attacks?! Seriously-”

“I gave you a free product, why are you complaining?”

“Dude!” 

The guy, Tomura? Had enough decency to look a little embarrassed.

“…I thought you were a newbie hero or something.”

“What?! So you spiked my coffee?” He remembered the ‘no hero’ bit from the ad; this guy clearly wasn’t a fan. But… “Why would you think that?”

“…” He idly scratched his neck, and his eyes drifted to Shuichi’s well-defined arms. “I dunno.”

“…Sure. So you work at a cafe during the day and rent out apartments by night. I, uh..wanted to ask about that- the apartment!”

“Yeah, so this is it. The landlord is a regional manager for all the AFOffee’s Coffees around here; pretty much everyone here works at one- Toga doesn’t because she’s still in school, Mr. C adopted her so they live here…you can live here if you have a criminal record or whatever, bad credit, the landlord isn’t strict, but he’s got two rules.”

“Uh-no heroes or cops, right?”

“That’s one of them. The other is that if you’re able to work, you have to work at one of his shops. He’s gotta pretty fierce competition with All Might’s Express Marts. The pay’s good.”

A place to live and a job? He’d never heard of such a law- was it even legal to force your tenants to work for you? He didn’t know enough about the laws to know, and the place was shady, so were the people; but..but he’d come this far! He’d already decided he could handle shady! If he had to throw away his morals to make it here, so be it! He’d work for them!

“O-Okay! Yeah, let’s do it!”

“Okay, ‘Spinner’. I’m Tomura. Shigaraki.” He shuffled some papers around; they were crumpled up under the cans of soda, something spilt and stained on them. “Just fill it out. Also, if you quit the job before you move out, the manager will kill you.”

He laughed, and Spinner hoped he was joking.

But he kinda doubted it.

                                                              ——–

So the first day was rough- by the end of the week he was ready to give up and die. He’d entered a pseudo-coffee-cult living situation. When Tomura had said the ‘manager’, he’d meant himself. His landlord- (who, apparently adopted him? Toga and Jin told him in late-night gossip-y talks that it was ‘complicated’ and that Kurogiri, who lived in the apartment above theirs basically raised Tomura for the landlord. The man seemed like the only one who ever brought food over that wasn’t junk.) Anyway, the landlord? Was also the district manager of all the AFOffee’s- and the founder, so kinda also the CEO- and Shigaraki was in line to inherit the whole business, so he got an easy ride into managerial status at a young age. 

And he for sure did get off on fucking up orders, putting way too much sugar or caffeine in them and watching people try the vile concoctions. He was a sadist for sure. Maybe even the devil. Spinner had watched him down a cup that was half espresso shots and half ‘LOV energy drink XTREME ENERGY’ topped with whipped cream without flinching.

Also, that might have been the moment Spinner decided he felt strongly towards him; which way was debatable,it was always rapidly oscillating between a serious crush and seriously wanting to crush him. Because he got the absolute ass jobs, like scrubbing toilets and cleaning stuff around the bar instead of doing anything important or cool!

…As cool as you could get in a cafe, like, doing those cool patterns in coffee cream! 

So he’d hit his limit, and stormed up to Shigaraki, crossing his arms and trying to look stern.

“Oi, Shigaraki! Why do you keep giving me the worst jobs?”

Red eyes blinked slowly at him, like Shuichi was stupid. Which made him more mad. 

“Seriously! I want to be up here making the stuff!”

“…Sure, if you feel so strongly about it, I’ll train you up here.” He was surprised by how easily that was resolved, and almost felt bad for being so snappy.

“Uh. Okay! Thanks!”

“Yeah. So let’s start with sizes, since I know you don’t know them.” 

It dawned on him, sometime later, that Shigaraki had been giving him the easy jobs, one hundred percent, absolutely. Customer service was a huge bitch, customers were all evil, and he was seriously considering doing some very mean, villainous things to them. He was only human! It wasn’t his fault if he wasn’t going as fast as they wanted, or if he messed up sometimes! 

(Also, the coffee machine itself was distracting. It had googly eyes, and Tomura called it ‘Noumu’ affectionately. And he was totally distracted and spilling shit all the time because of that, not because of how cute his boss slash housemate was- yeah.)

                                                     __________

“I hate people,” He seethed. Shigaraki nodded. They were in the break room, about to open. “How do you even deal with that?”

“I hate them too. I deal with it because I’m the manager.” It was a shockingly mature answer. “Also, I get to tell them ‘no’ and tell them how stupid they are without being fired.”

Ah.

“But if they give you too much of a hard time, let me know.”

“Sure,” He said, noncommittally, because he didn’t really feel too comfortable relying on his boss too much; even if they lived together and kinda had gaming nights and stuff, it was like Shigaraki had a ‘day’ and ‘night’ mode; by night he was the kinda creepy, but fun gaming buddy roommate among several in their weird, kind of sweet clique, but during the day he put on a brave face and marched into the warzone that was fronting as a quaint coffee shop on the corner. It was admirable; Spinner really liked that about the guy. 

No matter what, he never bullshitted either. Which was why Spinner was so conflicted about telling him how he’d been feeling, because while Shigaraki seemed to carefully consider how all of them felt, what if he was so honest that he’d laugh in his face? He could barely imagine it, but what if? The thought killed him, so he pushed it back.

                                                              ——-

Opening the door was like opening the gates of hell; a businessman marched up to the counter, toting a Very Important Business Briefcase, and sunglasses indoors- but of course still made time to glare at Spinner with a tilt of his head.

“Two tall, iced, sugar-free, vanilla latte with half whole and half soy milk. And one non-fat frappuccino, tall, with two pumps vanilla.”

It was Friday, opening hour, and there was already a line, and this jerkoff wanted some really extra shit. 

“Sure, can I get a name?” He got the name, and even made the drinks perfectly in record time! Not only were they perfect, but they were pretty as hell, and his handwriting had gotten a lot less shaky since starting this job.

He’d been so pleased when handing the drinks over that he had held them a little too tightly and one of his claws slipped into the plastic, making it go everywhere on the counter.

“Oh- I’m so sorry!” He gasped, pulling it back. Luckily, it hadn’t gotten on the guy, and it was iced, not hot, so- “I’ll make you another-”

“This is unbelievable. I’m going to be late to a meeting with the CEO- do you have any idea who I am? I’m about to be a business partner with this company you work for- I can get you fired over this.”

“What? I can make you another-” He gritted his teeth. “There’s no need to-”

“I want to speak to the manager, now,” The man had the audacity to snap his gloved fingers. Spinner was reaching his breaking point. 

Then, deathly calm, Tomura cleared his throat from behind Spinner.

“I’m the manager.”

The man looked far too smug, and Tomura looked composed, but there was something wild in his eyes. Spinner took a step back unconsciously to get distance from the shitshow that was about to go down.

“Your employee spilled my drink everywhere. I think I should get something for that, and I think you should discipline him for that. If my subordinates messed up that badly, there’d be worse than a firing.”

“Is that so? What would you have me give you?”

“Upgrade my drink for free- no, the whole order free, make it a grande. That seems fair for my time.”

“A grande is smaller than a venti, dipshit.” He actually reached across the counter and ripped the man forward by his tie, halfway across the counter. Other customers yelped and flinched back, but Spinner just stared, wide-eyed in awe. “You have some nerve, coming in here asking my employee if he knows who you are when you don’t know who I am. He’s worth a hundred of you, and I’m going to call right now and make sure that you don’t only never get that business deal, but that you never step foot in an AFOffee again.”

“You can��t do that- I’m- I’m in the yakuza, I’ll-”

Tomrua slammed his head on the table so hard he made the man black out.

“Dude,” Spinner whispered. “That was so badass. Where-”

“The landlord used to be into crime, but decided to open up chain restaurants instead. Turns out ruling through capitalism is easier than villainy, but I picked up some tricks in the transition.”

“Uh,” Spinner’s mouth felt like cotton. That..explained a lot, actually. “Cool.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have to close for the day and clean this up; we can’t have anyone putting this on social media. Maybe I was too hasty?” He scratched his neck. “When I saw him berating you like that I got angry.”

So Spinner was certain those strong feelings were admiration, and kinda love? Because he’d never had someone fuck a guy up like that for him, and something about that was so…

So violently sweet.

                                                —————–

“How do you do it?” He found himself asking while they were sweeping up; Kurogiri had stopped by and portalled the concussed yakuza away a while ago, and only the two of them were left in the shop. “Don’t you get fed up with that all the time?”

“Of course I do. I feel like I have so much pressure on me all the time, being next in line for this. I want to crush everything; I want to make those damn customers feel the despair they try to put on us.”

“I do too!” spinner gripped his broom tighter. “I want to see you destroy them all! So-!”

“Spinner.” Tomura interrupted him. “Kurogiri wants to reno one of the rooms into an activity room since there’s so many of us now.”

“What?” His heart practically stopped beating. He had been in the middle of a confession here!

“So..move into my room.” 

“…There’s one bed.”

“And?” Tomura shrugged. “Kurogiri and Compress sleep together. I think Dabi and Magne-”

“I- What the hell. Of course I want to sleep with you, you don’t need to ask in such a roundabout way!” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he could feel his cheeks burning. “There’s so much I like about you, but you’re the most frustrating guy ever! Seriously, you-”

“Jeez, I wasn’t being roundabout, stop yelling-” Tomura had gotten up in his face, but instead of squabbling more, he brushed his lips against Spinner’s briefly, effectively shutting down all of his major brain functions. “-Oh, and relationships with employees is against the rules, so you’re fired.”

“What?!”

                                                    ————-

“Those two seem cozy.” Magne commented.

“Please, we’re all a little cozy with each other. How long have we been living together?” Jin waved a hand. “They’re basically married!”

“I heard Tomura fired Spinner! Like, fired him!” Toga pouted. “He made up some weird rule that we had to work for him or something to spend time with him at work ‘cause he thought he was all pretty, but then cut it short! I don’t get it!”

“Ah, isn’t it obvious? It’s young love,” Compress sipped his tea. “They were making eyes since Spinner came in here, and then they were coworkers, and now…”

“And they were roommates.” Dabi said, smirking.

“Oh my god!” Toga shrieked with laughter. “They were roommates!”  

[boat-full-of-lotus-pods]

MDZS Chapter 102. “A Hatred for Life” Part 5

I’m sorry, I broke my promise

Although he had been stabbed through the chest, the wound wasn’t enough for Jiang Cheng to lose his life. It only meant that he could no longer move around as he pleased, and would be in no position to channel his spiritual energy anytime soon. As someone who hated being supported, Jiang Cheng turned to Jin Ling, who was supporting him, and spat, “Get lost.”

Jin Ling knew that his uncle was still mad at him for running away. Knowing that he was in the wrong, Jin Ling didn’t dare to talk back. From a distance, the barks of his dark-furred spiritual dog could be heard. Suddenly, the barks turned into whines, and Jin Ling was startled. Remembering Jin GuangYao’s earlier words, he shouted, “Run away, Fairy! Quickly! They’re going to kill you!”

Shortly after, Su She ran back into the temple, drenched in rain and fuming with fury. Jin GuangYao asked, “You didn’t kill it?”

Su She replied with a savage expression, “I couldn’t. This dog has not a sliver of true courage. When it has allies, it becomes more ferocious than anyone else, but the moment it realizes it can’t win, it runs away faster than anyone else!”

Jin GuangYao shook his head and said, “I’m worried that it will lead more people here. We need to finish our business here fast.”

Su She snarled, “These imbeciles! I’ll go make them work faster.”

Relieved, Jin Ling exhaled a breath of air. Seeing that Jiang Cheng was sitting on the ground, face ashen, Jin Ling hesitated a moment before turning to Lan WangJi. “HanGuang-Jun, are there any more cushions?”

Lan WangJi was the one who had collected the four round cushions that everyone was sitting on, but they were all that the temple had. After a moment of silence, Lan WangJi stood up and pushed over his own cushion. Jin Ling hurriedly said, “Thank you! But no, I should just give my own……”

Lan WangJi replied, “No need.”

He then proceeded to sit next to Wei WuXian. Sitting properly, the two of them shared the same cushion quite naturally without feeling cramped. Seeing that a cushion had already been spared, Jin Ling scratched his head and then helped Jiang Cheng to sit down on it. Pressing the acupuncture points over his chest to stop the bleeding, Jiang Cheng sat down and threw a glance towards Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi. Just a moment later, he quickly dropped his gaze again, expression gloomy. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.

Just then, an ecstatic voice shouted from the back of the temple, “Sect Leader! We’ve reached it! We can see a corner now!”  

Jin GuangYao’s expression relaxed at once. Marching with quick strides to the back of the temple, he said, “Hurry faster! Be very careful. We don’t have much time left.”  

Outside, seven or eight pale streaks of lightning flashed across the lower horizon. Roars of thunder soon followed. Within the temple, Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi sat on one side, and Jiang Cheng sat at another. Dragging his own cushion over, Jin Ling joined his uncle. Other than the sound of the pouring rain, the temple was drenched in an awkward, dead silence. No one was saying a word.

But for some reason, Jin Ling seemed to really want the two sides to communicate. Looking between the two groups of people back and forth, he suddenly said, “Uncle, thank Heavens you stopped that qin string earlier. That could have been bad.”

Face darkening, Jiang Cheng spat, “Shut your mouth!”

If he hadn’t been so emotional as to give Jin GuangYao the opportunity for a sneak attack on this side of the room, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have fallen into the enemy’s hands in the first place. Furthermore, Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi could have probably easily avoided the incoming qin string on their own. Although Lan WangJi was without cultivation at the moment and Wei WuXian hadn’t had much to begin with, they were still adept fighters. Even if they couldn’t attack, they could’ve just dodged. So when Jin Ling had clumsily spoken up for his uncle, with very obvious and deliberate intent, it only made the situation even more awkward than it already was.

After receiving the scolding, Jin Ling sheepishly shut his mouth. Jiang Cheng sealed his lips and spoke not another word. Wei WuXian also had nothing to say.

Had this been in his previous life, Wei WuXian would have at least poked some fun at Jiang Cheng for being too easily riled up by a few words to the point of someone taking advantage of him. But after everything that Jin GuangYao had said, there was no room left for doubt.

Jiang Cheng already knew the truth.

Just then, Lan WangJi once again stroked his back twice. Wei WuXian looked up. Seeing that there was not a hint of astonishment in Lan WangJi, whose gaze could almost be described as gentle, Wei WuXian’s heart gave a jolt. He couldn’t help but ask in a quiet voice, “……You knew?”

Slowly, Lan WangJi nodded.

Wei WuXian exhaled weakly and muttered, “……Wen Ning.”

Suibian was supposed to be with Wen Ning. Now it had fallen into Jiang Cheng’s hands, yet Wen Ning hadn’t mentioned a single word about it since they had left the Lotus Pier.

Wei WuXian asked, “When did he tell you?”

Lan WangJi answered, “When you were unconscious.”

Wei WuXian asked, “Is this how we left the Lotus Pier?!”

If it wasn’t because Wen Ning still hadn’t come back to find them, Wei WuXian would already be glowering at him.

Lan WangJi said, “He feels very bad about it.”

Wei WuXian’s voice carried a hint of frustration as he said, “……I’ve told him so many times to never speak of it!”

Abruptly, Jiang Cheng spoke up. “To never what?”

Startled, Wei WuXian turned to look at him together with Lan WangJi. Clutching his wound with one hand, Jiang Cheng said in a chilling voice, “Wei WuXian. So selfless and magnanimous. Doing countless good things for others without letting them know. Shouldering all the responsibility, the humility, yourself. How touching. Should I kneel down and cry now to thank you?”

Hearing that his tone had not an ounce of courtesy but was instead laced with mockery, Lan WangJi’s expression turned cold. Noticing that his expression had turned unkind, Jin Ling immediately moved himself in front of Jiang Cheng. Terrified that Lan WangJi would strike his uncle dead, Jin Ling cried, “Uncle!”

Wei WuXian’s expression had also turned unpleasant.

Although he had never expected anything to be resolved between them the moment Jiang Cheng learned the truth, he also had not expected Jiang Cheng to say something this vile. He said, after a beat of silence, “I didn’t ask you to thank me.”

“Ha!” Jiang Cheng choked out a laugh then continued, “Of course. To deliver kindness without asking for anything in return, you’re on a whole other level. Unlike me, of course. No wonder father always used to say that you are the one who truly understands the Jiang Sect’s motto and carries the Jiang Sect’s true spirit.”

Wei WuXian couldn’t keep listening anymore. He interrupted, “Enough.”

Jiang Cheng continued, voice harsh, “Enough what? You think it’s enough just because you’ve said so? You know everything! You’re better than me in every way! Exceptionally gifted, a cultivation prodigy! With a pure heart and a luminous mind! You all know everything! I’m inferior—then what the hell am I?!?!”

Abruptly, he reached out as if intending to grip the lapels of Wei WuXian’s robes. Securing an arm around Wei WuXian, Lan WangJi pulled him behind himself. His other hand heavily flung Jiang Cheng’s hand aside as fury leaked from his eyes. Though the action was not spiritually charged, it still carried tremendous strength, knocking Jiang Cheng with such force that the wound over his chest reopened and blood gushed out again instantly. Jin Ling screamed, “Uncle, your wound! HanGuang-Jun, show some mercy[1]!”

Lan WangJi then replied coldly, “Jiang WanYin, show some decency[2]!”

Meanwhile, Lan XiChen shed his outer robe, laid it over the cold, shivering Nie HuaiSang and said, “Sect Leader Jiang. Please remain calm. The more you shout, the worse your condition will be.”

With a shove, Jiang Cheng pushed aside the panicking Jin Ling who was supporting his side. Though he was already losing blood, blood still rushed to his head in his anger, making his face cycle through shades of white and red. He spat, “What gives you the right? Wei WuXian, what gives you the fucking right?”

From behind Lan WangJI, Wei WuXian said stiffly, “What right?”

Jiang Cheng replied, “How much has my family given for you? I’m his son. I’m the heir of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. But all those years, I was never enough next to you. Their love, their dedication, even their life! The lives of my father, mother, older sister, and even Jin ZiXuan! Because of you, all that’s left now is an orphaned Jin Ling!”

With a terrible shudder, Jin Ling’s shoulders slumped. His expression waned as well. Wei WuXian’s lips moved but, ultimately, he couldn’t say a word. Lan WangJi turned to him and held his hand. Jiang Cheng, however, was still not finished. He scathed without holding back, “Wei WuXian, who’s the one who went back on his words? Who’s the one who betrayed our Jiang Sect? Who’s the one that told me that when I became the sect leader, you’d be my subordinate, you’d support me forever, that if the Gusu Lan Sect has Two Jades then the Yunmeng Jiang Sect would have Two Prides, that you wouldn’t ever betray the Jiang Sect?! You tell me—who said those words?! I’m asking you, who said those words?! Did you fucking swallow them all?!

“And then look what happened? You went to shelter some outsider, haha! From the Wen Sect, of all people. How many years did you eat their food and drink their water?! You betrayed us in an instant without any hesitation! What do you think my family is to you?! Endless good deeds, you’ve done them all, whilst every fuck-up was always because you had no choice! You ‘had no choice’! What difficulties can’t you explain?! What hardship must you hide?! Hardship?! You don’t tell me anything, you treat me like a moron!!!

“How much do you owe my family? Shouldn’t I hate you?! Couldn’t I hate you?! What gives you the right to suddenly make me feel like I should be the one that’s sorry?! What gives you the right to make me feel like some fucking clown after all these years?! What the hell am I?! Do I only deserve to be blinded by your glory, by your light?! Shouldn’t I hate you?!”

Lan WangJi abruptly stood up. Frightened, Jin Ling threw himself in front of Jiang Cheng. “HanGuang-Jun! My uncle is injured……”

Jiang Cheng batted Jin Ling so hard that he fell to the ground. “Let him come! Am I afraid of the Second Lan?!”

But after getting slapped to the ground, Jin Ling suddenly froze.

Not only him—Wei WuXian, Lan WangJi, Lan XiChen—they all stopped moving.

Jiang Cheng was crying.

As tears trailed down his face, he muttered through gritted teeth, “…… What gives you the right…… What gives you the right to not tell me!”

Jiang Cheng’s fist tightened as if wanting to hit someone; as if wanting to hit himself. Ultimately, it hit the ground.

He should have been able to hate Wei WuXian without hesitation or doubt. However, right here and now, the golden core cultivating within him, churning with spiritual energy, made the strength of his hatred helplessly dwindle.

Wei WuXian didn’t know how to answer.

Since the very beginning, it was precisely because he didn’t want to see Jiang Cheng like this that had made him decide to never tell him.

What he had promised Jiang FengMian and Madam Yu, he had always kept it in his heart: ‘Take care of Jiang Cheng. Protect him.’ Jiang Cheng was someone who would push himself to the extremes just to prove himself. He’d always cared so much about being better. If he were to know the truth, he would suffer for the rest of his life. Never again would he be able to look Wei WuXian in the eyes again. He would never find peace or release. He would always be painfully reminded of the fact that he would not be what he was today without relying on the sacrifice of another; that none of his success and accomplishments were ever truly his; that by winning, he had lost; and that he had long lost the right to ever prove himself better.

Later, because Jin ZiXuan and Jiang YanLi had died because of him, Wei WuXian had become too ashamed to ever bring it up again. If he were to tell Jiang Cheng the truth after that, it would only sound like an excuse, a way for him to alleviate himself of the responsibilities by bringing up an act of kindness in the worst time, as if saying, ‘Look, you can’t hate me, I’ve also made sacrifices for the Jiang Sect.’

Jiang Cheng cried soundlessly. His face, however, was already streaked in ceaseless tears.

Showing such an unsightly crying face in front of others was something that Jiang Cheng wouldn’t ever have done in the past. From here on, however, he would always be reminded of this feeling for as long as the golden core was still within him, for as long as it still churned with spiritual energy, every moment, every second of everyday.

Jiang Cheng choked between sobs, “……You said that when I became the Sect Leader, you’d be my subordinate, you’d support me forever and never betray the Yunmeng Jiang Sect…….You said those words yourself.”

“……”

A beat of silence later, Wei WuXian said, “I’m sorry. I broke my promise.”

Shaking his head, Jiang Cheng buried his face deep within his palm. A moment later, he suddenly laughed with a “pfft.”

He mocked in a muffled voice, “If I still let you say sorry to me now, then how delicate of a person would I be?”

-

Footnotes:

[1]: Show some mercy: the original phrase was 手下留情, “show some mercy, be lenient with your actions/hands.”

[2]: Show some decency: the original phrase was 口下留德, “show some decency/respect with your words/speech.”

[today-only-happens-once]

Fight or Flight

Title: Fight or Flight

Summary: “ROMAN!” The strangled cry rips violently up his throat. Or, Virgil accompanies Roman on a quest, and a nightmare lurks just around the corner. Prinxiety (Romantic or Platonic).

Warnings: violence, major injury (deep scratches), blood, a monster, brief mention of death, reckless actions and stubbornness, description of tight spaces at the beginning, arguing, panicking (not exactly a panic attack but perhaps could be triggering for one if that is a trigger, so please be careful!), and as always please let me know if I forgot anything!

A/N: So, @thepoolofthedead tossed an idea in an ask a while ago about Virgil basically getting super strong in moments of extreme crisis. I don’t know how well I represented that idea here, but since that was the idea that inspired this fic, I wanted to give credit where it is due. I hope it turned out okay! There’s actually quite a lot happening and I didn’t get to explain it all in this fic because of just how it ended up playing out. I may write a sequel piece that helps explain/address some things, but don’t hold me to it. Haha. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine. Always scary to post, hope you all enjoy it anyway. 

Tags: @creativenostalgiastuff, @helloisthisusernametaken, @ren-allen, @lizaelsparrow, @princelogical, @random-pianist, @ravenclawicecream, @erlenmeyertrash, @milomeepit, @at-least-seven-pretty-potatoes, @rileyfirstname, @pinkeasteregg, @vigilantvirgil, @generalfandomfabulousness, @lacrimosathedark, @sassy-in-glasses (I think that’s the right url but it doesn’t seem to want to work...), as always, just lemme know if you wanna be added to my list!

…

“Remind me again why I let you drag me along for this?”

“Relax, Forrest Grump,” Roman quips, his voice chipper as ever, “We’re almost there.”

Virgil casts a wide, anxious glance at the narrow stairwell around them. Roman—sword sheathed at his hip, a torch extended outwards in his hands as the only source of light—leads the way in front of him. The spiraling stairs are dark and never seem to end. The tall brick walls on either side don’t help the general feeling of claustrophobia. Virgil has his hood pulled up, his gaze flickering between the damp and slippery steps and the Prince’s back in front of him.

Virgil scowls, trying to ignore the way his shoulders coil tighter at the distant sound of water dripping into a puddle that somehow seems to echo in the too-narrow pathway. “Roman, I don’t like this.”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned that. You know, you didn’t have to come, Edward Sullen. I was under the impression that you had wanted to join me.”

It wasn’t exactly that simple. Roman had been preparing for this quest over the past week, and over the course of those seven days, the knot in Virgil’s stomach had steadily worsened. He had never been a big fan of Roman going on quests in general—the closer together everyone is, the easier for Virgil to make sure they’re all safe—but he’d seen the excited twinkle steadily grow in the Prince’s eyes as the date for his departure neared, and Virgil had bitten his tongue against the words of concern he so badly wanted to voice.

But then Roman expressed some hesitation himself the night before he was due to depart. He asked if any of the other Sides might want to accompany him; an offer he’d made time and again whenever he left, but Virgil saw the tightness in his jaw and the way the cocky smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and knew that Roman wasn’t just offering to be nice. He really wanted someone to come with him.

So Virgil—with a shrug of faux-indifference that contrasted with the ball of nerves sitting heavy in his chest—agreed. That had been five days ago.

Virgil clenches his jaw for a moment at Roman’s flippant disregard. “I did,” he replies. “But I just really—“

Roman stops suddenly and holds up a hand, causing Virgil to cut himself off. “Did you hear that?” the Creative Side asks in a whisper.

Virgil chews his lip but listens intently. Another few drops of water plop into a puddle. Roman’s soft breathing. Virgil is starting to think he can hear his own heartbeat.

Then he does hear what Roman is talking about. A quiet, distant growl. It’s low, guttural, but Virgil hears it. Something in his stomach squirms uncomfortably. Roman smiles faintly, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes.

“Roman,” Virgil says, “Listen to me. I don’t know about this.”

The Prince shakes his head adamantly. “Virgil, you are more than welcome to turn back now. I will not force you to continue on this journey with me. But I must press on.”

“Why?” Virgil demands suddenly, the word coming out harsher than he meant it to. He can’t place what is wrong, exactly, except that there was something sitting heavy in his chest that had only hardened and grown over the past five days with each step into this quest Virgil traveled. Being surrounded by so much raw, creative energy only led Virgil to think more and more about every possible thing that could go wrong, making it hard to think and increasingly harder to just breathe.

Roman looks taken aback for a moment before frustration covers the surprise at the outburst. “Because this is what I do, Virgil.”

“But why—,” His voice is drowned out by another growl. Louder, and closer. Virgil thinks—although he isn’t sure—that he hears a faint hissing as well.

Roman’s head snaps away from Virgil as his hand falls to his sword at his hip. “I’m going to find out what’s at the bottom of this stairwell,” he says steadily. It takes Virgil a second to realize that he’s talking to him. “I won’t blame you if you want to turn back.”

“No. I-I’m coming with you.” Virgil hates the way his voice wavers, faint traces of distortion beginning to leak through. Roman sets the torch in a nearby empty holder and unsheathes his sword. The metallic scrape grates against Virgil’s ears and forces the rest of the air from his lungs.

The two of them descend the stairs together. With each step, Virgil has to try a little harder to breathe.

When they reach the bottom a few moments later, the heavy wooden door is all that stands between them and whatever the source of the growls and hisses are. They are louder now. Virgil thinks—if he could just focus—he could maybe make out what they’re saying…

Roman casts one last look back at Virgil, but it’s too fast for the Anxious Side to read his expression before he grabs the handle of the door and uses his shoulder to shove. It ricochets open, the Prince stumbling ungracefully into the room. Virgil wastes no time in rushing in after him.

The ‘room’ is really more of a cavern. It is mostly cast in dark shadows, but light trickles in faintly from somewhere up above, breaking in through cracks in the jagged gray rocks. It sparkles on the surface of the stream of water that runs through the middle of cave. The ground—darkened with moisture—is made of the same rocky unevenness that covers the walls.

The door slams shut loudly behind them. Virgil whirls around, lunging for the door handle and yanking on it. It does not budge.

“Roman, I swear if you’re—“

“Virgil. Get behind me.”

“What?”

When Virgil turns back around, he sees that Roman has positioned himself in front of him, his sword extended outward. His other arm is stretched out to his side as if to bar Virgil from something. His gaze follows past Roman’s shoulder. Silhouetted against the faint light is a dark figure. The Anxious Side squints a little, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. The figure looks almost human.

Almost.

“Uh,” Virgil says. His voice sounds tight and shaky. “What is that?”

He sees Roman’s jaw jump. The flicker of the Prince’s gaze betrays the uncertainty he won’t say. Roman doesn’t know. Virgil’s breathing turns shallow. Roman had created this realm, hadn’t he? How could just not know what was in it?

There’s a beat of silence.

Then it lunges.

Virgil feels a weight slam into him, knocking him sideways. It—whatever it is—shrieks, it’s wail amplifying and echoing against the rocks loud enough to hurt Virgil’s ears. A second later, as he scrambles to his feet, Virgil realizes that the shove have come from Roman. Pushing him out of the way.

It’s got Roman by the throat, shoved up against the door that wouldn’t open. The Prince—eyes wide, panicked—slashes at it with his sword. It hisses and drops him. Roman collapses to his knees.

Virgil’s throat constricts as everything around him heightens. His vision sharpens slightly. His heart is pounding in his chest, but no longer does it drown out the other sounds around him. He can hear Roman’s gasps for air. The quiet, inhuman clicks that seem to be coming from it as it rights itself. It doesn’t seem to be injured.

It glides frictionless towards Roman again. Virgil tries to shout his name, but it catches and mangles in his lungs. Virgil looks around for something to use. Anything.

There’s nothing.

Roman’s surprised, terrified yell and the clatter of his sword as it is ripped from his grip grabs Virgil’s attention. The Creative Side flies through the air—it isn’t even touching him, how the—before hitting the ground hard and rolling.

“ROMAN!” The strangled cry rips violently up his throat. A few feet to the left lies Roman’s sword.

It descends on the Prince like a shadow. Roman growls, pinned to the ground on his back by it. He attempts to fight it off—throwing punches, elbows, wrestling with it to gain the upper hand again—but whatever it might be is strong and Roman simply doesn’t stand a chance.

Raw instinct takes over. Virgil lunges for the sword.

Roman releases an anguished, pained scream as it rakes sharp talons across his chest.

“NO!” The distortion—so saturated in his voice that it doesn’t even sound like his anymore--amplifies the volume and reverberates against the stone. Virgil launches himself at it, fueled by the raw fight-or-flight adrenaline that floods his veins. He throws his full weight into it. His arms wraps around it and he tears it off of Roman. It shrieks.

Even up close, grappling with it in a flail of limbs, Virgil can’t quite tell what it is. It’s a corporeal shadow: not quite human, not quite anything. Virgil tries, blindly and desperately, to slash at it with the sword. It wrenches his arm down, pinning it to the ground above his head as it scrambles to gain the upper hand.

Roman shouts something. Its snarl in Virgil’s ear keeps him from being able to make out what he says.

Its head—if it can even be called that—swivels over towards the Prince with renewed interest even as it struggles to pin Virgil to the ground just as it had with Roman.

“You want him?” Virgil grits out behind clenched teeth. “You’re gonna have to go through me.”

Roman yells something else, high and pained, but Virgil is too focused to pay attention to what it is. Protect him. It’s all Virgil can think.

The Anxious Side pushes with everything he has left against its grip on his arm. He throws it off of him with a strangled, choked cry. It hisses, almost as if in surprise.

Virgil wrestles it to the ground, the sword still in his hands.

He shoves the blade into it.

It dissipates in a swirl of black smoke. The cavern echoes with an abrupt, startling silence. For a moment, the only thing Virgil can hear are his own wheezing gasps as he struggles to catch his breath. His hands are trembling. His eyes are locked on where it had been only seconds ago. The sword slips through his fingers and falls to the ground.

“V-Virgil?”

Roman.

Virgil snaps out of it and frantically scrambles to his feet, rushing the few feet back to the Prince and nearly tripping over himself in the process. Roman’s usually pristine, white suit is dirtied and torn. The red sash is shredded, the same color as the blood stains across his chest that outline the tears in the fabric.

“Ro…” The name cuts off as his throat squeezes closed. Roman looks pale.

His eyes are dark and wide. For a brief moment, Virgil wants to describe it as awe. Or maybe it’s just fear. “You…” He coughs.

“Shut up,” Virgil says, harsher than he really means it to sound. His hands hover, unsure of where to touch or what to do. “You’re bleeding.” His voice sounds higher pitched than normal. “This is bad. This is bad. This is bad.” His breath hitches. He can’t breathe. He tries, and it rattles in his lungs.

“Virgil,” Roman says. He grimaces as he attempts to sit up, propping himself up with one arm. “I’ll be okay.”

“Roman.” The distortion is back in his voice. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me.”

The Prince swallows, but his soft gaze doesn’t leave Virgil’s. “Truly. I just have to get back to my room. I have some things there that can help.” Virgil can tell from the way he breathes that he’s attempting to stifle the gasps of pain.

Virgil squeezes his eyes shut for a moment as his thoughts race a mile a minute. It took them five days to get here. That was five days back, maybe three if they could push it but with the state that Roman was in… and even then, Virgil doubts that Roman has that long. Could Roman… die? Become nothing? What would that do to Thomas? To Patton, to Logan?

It would be his fault. All his fault. He should have kept Roman from going on this quest in the first place. Why would Roman construct something in the mindscape that could kill him? Why would he do that?

“Virge, open your eyes.”

“How do you expect us to get back to your room before—“

“Please.”

Frustrated—terrified—Virgil reluctantly opens his eyes. The rock floor beneath his knees has been replaced by hardwood. Roman’s large canopy bed sits with the headboard against one wall. The French doors on another wall are open and a soft breeze dances in the thin white curtains. They’re back in Roman’s bedroom.

“I—what?” Virgil says, even as the distortion fades from his voice. His light brown eyes flicker around the room before falling back on Roman, still in his half-sitting position on the floor beside him.

“I sunk us out,” Roman says. His voice is still tight with pain. He grimaces again. “Virgil, if could go to my bookshelf, there’s a purple bottle…”

The Anxious Side jumps to his feet and hurries to the tall fixture in the corner of the room. He finds it almost immediately—it’s a small vial, a cork stopper shoved into the top of it—and snatches it off the shelf. Accidentally, he knocks a different bottle and sends it crashing into the hardwood. Virgil jumps at the sound, a gray liquid pooling at his feet.

Before he can say anything, Logan and Patton both appear in the room. “You’re back!” Patton says excitedly.

Virgil whirls around to face him. “I—“

“Roman!” Logan says in alarm, as he looks at the tattered state of the Prince’s suit, at the blood soaking the front of his chest. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Virgil replies, rushing back to Roman with the vial in his hands. “So, uh, how does this work? Do you drink it?” Virgil pulls the stopper out. He realizes that the words are coming out all in a rush, but he doesn’t know how to slow down.

He doesn’t realize his hands are shaking until Roman covers them with his own. “It’s… topical. Just pour it over the injuries and let it do its thing.” He sounds unbelievably calm.

Virgil laughs—wet and shaky and humorless—because Roman is the one that is injured so why can’t he just keep it together. He swallows hard and nods. “Okay. Okay.” He drags in a tight, shallow breath, and then tips the vial over Roman’s chest, letting the dark violet liquid form a thin stream.

Virgil watches, a part of him amazed, as the liquid seems to disappear into Roman’s skin. The jagged, bloodied wounds across his chest glow faintly, the torn skin gradually fusing back together. The scratches disappear, with no sign they had ever been there save for slightly reddened skin.

When it has completed its job, Roman sags a little in relief and coughs.

“That’s… remarkable,” Logan breathes.

Roman throws the Logical Side an exhausted smile. “Concentrated Creativity. Potent stuff.” He coughs again. “Spending a significant amount of time here in my room would have the same effect, but this… speeds things along.”

“How do you feel, kiddo?” Patton asks, the worry ringing clear in his voice.

Roman lifts a shoulder. “Good as new, Padrè. Thanks to Virgil.”

Virgil is still staring at his chest. Had it really only been moments ago that he’d watched it slice through Roman’s skin and heard him scream? Before he can think, Virgil reaches a hand towards it, his fingertips lightly brushing the healed skin through the still-torn fabric. Roman goes very still.

Virgil’s breath catches faintly at feeling Roman real and solid and safe. His skin is warm and soft beneath his fingers.

“Virge?” The Prince’s quiet voice catches his attention. Virgil glances up.

Roman’s still got a dark bruise on his cheekbone. His usually pristine hair is disheveled and streaked with dirt, sweat, some dried blood. Stale tear tracks mark their way through the grime on his face. There is something soft in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Roman whispers.

Virgil’s vision blurs and he averts his gaze even as Roman’s fingers close around his own lingering on the Prince’s chest.

“Guys, what happened to you?” Logan asks.

Virgil makes a noise in the back of his throat as he tries to open his mouth to answer. The memory is still too fresh. Too raw. He feels arms grab for him and suddenly he’s against something warm and familiar and he can tell by the way the fabric feels against his cheek that he’s in Roman’s arms.

He feels Roman lean in his head on the top of his own. “You… saved me, Virgil.”

Virgil releases a sound that is somewhere between a sob and a laugh of relief. “Fight or flight, remember?”

He can feel the Prince’s chest move as he sucks in a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t… have done that to you. Your action should not have been necessary. I’m not… sure what happened, exactly, but I should have listened to you when you wanted to turn back.”

Patton’s voice softly speaks up. “What matters right now is that you are both safe. That’s enough, right?”

Virgil can still hear Roman’s anguished cry of pain reverberating in his head. He can’t help but feel that sound will haunt his nightmares for a while.

But as he listens to the thudding of Roman’s heart against his ear, the screams start to fade into the background. They give way to the steady, rhythmic reminder that Roman is, indeed, safe.

“Yeah,” Virgil agrees softly. “That’s enough.”

....

Liked it? Read the sequel here!

[dreamyarcana]

Injured!MC x Asra

THis hELL OF A PIECE TOOK ME FOREVER TO COMPLETE AROUND SCHOOL

if it were up to me, writing shitty fanfiction about my fictional husbands is what i would do for the rest of my life, sometimes. because high school sucks xD and the arcana and midnight cinderella (another fantastic dating sim!) are why im still existing and its been less than a month since school starts ._.

honestly, it think it’s actually one of my better works but hey XD

anywho, again, i do try to write from they/them nb perspective but sometimes it does come across as she/her perspective unintentionally.

If you see any mistakes or have suggestions for other fics, please do suggest :) I’m trying to learn to write for Julian, but I’m not sure I’m quite there yet. Maybe soon! Please enjoy haha

dedicated to @rosehardt​ for their sweet comment on my last Asra fic <3

Gasping, I stopped to rest in a dark alleyway. My heaving breaths were noisy despite my attempts to quiet them. I prayed that my pursuer will go away and leave me the hell alone. For the first time, I gingerly took a peek at the wound made by the hooded figure's knife. It was rather severe; blood was seeping all over, completely soaking my linen shirt. The captor had cut my just below my chest down to my waist. "How did I get here?" I moaned in frustration. But I knew perfectly how I had gotten here.

I had been taking a night stroll, thinking about my master, the Arcana, and his familiar. It was a fantastic night - the kind of night where you could see millions of stars wherever you went. My favorite shawl concealed my hair and to an extent, my face. The soft material looked like it could've been made from the same sky that blanketed the earth. The rest of my outfit was selected around it. Even at night, the marketplace was lively and bright. Venders offered me various goods from sweet fruits to homemade crafts. I shook my head politely before making my way past a mysterious black tent. Suddenly, someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me hard into the tent. I gasped and yelped in surprise but another hand covered my mouth. "So you're Asra’s famous apprentice everyone talks about?" sneered a low voice. "Maybe you've should've foreseen this happening to you." I attempted to get away, tried to pull away, but the grip just tightened on me. I could feel my shirt being lifted and resisted more, trying to yank myself out of the hand. Something sharp was being traced against my skin. Panic rose in my throat and I cried out in his hand. "Not so fast, young one." the figure admonished gently, as if I were a star pupil and my kidnapper was a kind teacher. I kicked and stomped on his feet as best as I could in the awkward position the person had me in. "Perhaps we should just get right into this." Anger was starting to leak into the voice. The knife pierced my skin swiftly and I couldn't do anything but struggle and cry out into the hand. In desperation, I tried to bit the hand as the kidnapper dug it in further. Swearing like a fiend, the hands released me and I shot out like a rocket, desperate to find the exit. I blasted it out of there and somehow ran behind an alleyway.

Wildly, I glanced around, trying to figure out the quickest way to my shop without being spotted by too many people. Slowly, but surely I forced myself to my home and released a sigh of relief as I locked the door behind me. I felt myself slide down to the ground while my vision grew out of focus fast. "(Y/N)?" Asra's soft, melodic voice called out. I couldn't summon any energy to answer as I sat there, panting and trying not to disturb my oozing wound. When I didn't respond, his light, graceful footsteps approached the door and although quiet, I heard his gasp of surprise. "You're hurt, oh no...please, no..." Asra muttered; this was the first time he sounded so distraught, but I could hardly focus on that. I tried to regain focus and blinked rapidly. "(Y/N), can you hear me?" Asra asked, worry in his voice. I nodded, or at least, I think I did. Gently, he helped me to my feet and lifted me bridal style in his arms. "Asra," I whispered, slightly dazed. "I'm here for you, (Y/N). You're safe now that I'm here to care for you." he reassured. I wrapped my arms around him and leaned in to smell his sweet scent. My eyes shut for a second from the throbbing that started to become prevalent. now that I was safe. 

Asra snatched a blanket on the way to the bed and placed me on it gently. Slowly, he peeled back the blood soaked shirt to reveal the mess of a wound. I watched his face anxiously, but he revealed nothing except concern. Without saying anything, he exited swiftly, probably to get something.

Soon after, he returned with some alcohol, bandages, and some kind of white kit. "Listen, (Y/N), this wound is extremely deep. I'm not much of a, well, doctor, but I do know some basics from previous... occasions." he told me softly, his eyes locking on to mine. "First, I have to clean the wound, which will hurt a lot, and then sew it up as best I can. The stitches won't hurt as much as the actually cleaning will. It’ll probably leave a scar." Asra frowned to himself and his inability to fix this problem. Meanwhile, his hand held mine and I squeezed weakly.

“Don’t worry about it,” I answered shakily, trying not to be a baby about the entire situation. Asra, likes always, could see through my mask and softened his gaze. 

“It’ll be okay.” He reached over and kissed my forehead, stroking my hair softly. “Can you drink some of this alcohol? It’ll numb some of the pain,” he added, looking at my shocked expression. I tried to sit up a bit to drink some and Asra lifted the small bottle to my lips. The taste was dry and stung my throat, but I drank anyways. 

“Do you think we could try to remove your shirt? It’ll be easier to work with the wound.” he explained after he set the bottle down. I blushed, despite the serious circumstances. 

“Uh, yeah, that’s fine.” I replied as casually as I could, breaking my gaze to him. Asra chuckled, which was a sweet sound to hear.

“You’re charming when you blush.” he murmured as he helped me get the blood soaked shirt off as well as the shawl wrapped around me still. I could feel the edges of my vision getting hazy.

“Okay, I’m going to clean it now. I’m sorry for the pain, but try to stay still. It’ll be over soon,” he promised when he returned out of nowhere with boiling water and a washcloth. My gaze drifted to his fluffy hair - it was like a sheep’s and I wanted nothing more to touch it. 

Suddenly, hot pain coursed through me and I cried out when it wouldn’t stop. Asra flinched when he heard my shouts and I tried to quiet myself to no avail.

“You’re doing great,” he reassured me with a calm voice. “Just a bit more.” More of the searing pain? I wasn’t sure if I could handle it a lot of it. 

It hit me again and I writhed around this time while Asra tried to keep me still.

“Please, I’m almost done, it’ll be okay, I’m sorry, (Y/N).” Asra’s voice had a note of panic in it and that caused me to hold still. I think we both sighed in relief when he said, “Okay, I’m finished cleaning, just relax for awhile.”

My mind dozed for a bit while Asra worked. I studied him while he worked on closing my wound up. His eyebrow was furrowed in concentration on what he was doing and his graceful hands worked calmly and steadily. Asra was right; I couldn’t feel any kind of pain or at least none that bothered me.

At some point, I reached out and awkwardly patted him because he took my hand and kissed it gently with his soft lips. I think I smiled.

Soon after he finished he put away the items and took away the blanket, which was now stained with my blood and he changed clothes to go to bed - or rather snuggle with me. I felt his warmth surrounding me cautiously and gently, and automatically nestled in his safe presence. It sounded like he was talking to me while I was half asleep, but also half talking to himself, for so many unknown reasons.

“(Y/N), your expression is peaceful and (beautiful/handsome) when resting. I hope you know how worried I was, you really scared me half to death when you first walked in... I can’t believe how much I’ve come to care for you, and part of me hopes to avenge whoever did this to you. I wish I could’ve protected you... I’m so sorry I had to cause you pain to make it better. Your screams were terrifying and I felt... horrible, like a monster for causing you such pain... Despite this, I still love you. I love you with all of my heart and I know that’ll never die. Sweet dreams, (Y/N).”

Sweet dreams, indeed, I would always have forever if I stayed in his arms.

[zzizzigom]

Family — Wonho AU | Part Three

A/N: ahhh I’m so sorry for how late this is. I was sick and then all these weird work schedules were taking up my time. But I wanted to get this out to you all before the weekend so here it is! Thank you all so much for the patience and your interest in this story~ I’m planning for maybe two more parts so please continue to look forward to it. Also I’m so sorry for mistakes and if this seemed rushed, especially the more emotional part, like I suck at mushy talk haha

Characters: Single Father Wonho, Reader, Female OC

Length: 4270 words

Parts: Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

It was a rare day off and you had promised to watch Mari after school while Wonho worked. The two of you were at the zoo enjoying a rare dare of sun. You let Mari do the leading, but as the afternoon wore on you were starting to regret it. You were still young but had nowhere near the same energy levels as the young girl.

As you were eating a snack you noticed her energy slowly dwindling and you knew it was time to head home. Gathering your things, you took her hand and started to lead her towards the exit.

“Y/N…” Mari trailed off. “I really like being with you.”

“I really like being with you too.”

“Please don’t leave.”

You stop and look down at her. “Mari, why would I leave?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want you to.”

With a soft sigh you continue to walk. “Listen to me, I won’t ever leave you. Besides who else am I going to buy sugar cereal for?”

Mari giggles and you know you’ve done the right thing in lightening the mood.

The drive towards Wonho’s place was quiet. You played Mari’s favorite radio station at a low level but when you didn’t hear much noise coming from her, you looked back at her and found her asleep. Turning off the radio, you continued the drive in silence. As you drove around the corner, you felt your car slow on its own. Frowning you look at the meters on the dashboard start to drop. You press your hazard lights and carefully pull over before shutting off the vehicle. Quickly, you peek behind you and find Mari still peacefully napping in the back. You quietly climb out of the car and walk to the hood. Propping it up you study the multiple parts and pipes and end up staring blankly at the engine.

Nothing is smoking and it doesn’t seem like anything is leaking. You had refilled the tank this morning so you knew it wasn’t that. Figuring it was the battery, you climb back into the car and sit for a moment to collect your thoughts. You weren’t too far from Wonho’s apartment, maybe two or three blocks, it would be an easy walk. Once you reached the place you could get him to drive over and give your car a jump.

With your plan all figure out, you tossed your keys into your purse and draped the strap across your torso. You made your way to Mari’s side of the car and once you had her door open you gently unfastened her seatbelt and hoisted her up onto your hip. When she was in a secure position, you grabbed her own little bag and then shut the door. With everything gathered, you dug your hand into your purse and hit the lock button on your keys.

The sky was slowly darkening and you did a quick time check before starting off in the direction of Wonho’s place.

The walk was easy, like you knew it would be. The hardest part was walking and not jostling awake the child on your hip. Mari’s extra weight on yours had you sweating slightly despite the chill in the air. When you reached the front door of the complex, you leaned to the side so Mari’s weight would lean into you. Using your hands, you dug the keys out of your purse and quickly sifted through them to find the front door key. Inside the building, you stopped and regathered yourself and shifted Mari’s weight higher onto your hip.

Opting for the elevator you patiently waited for the contraption to arrive. Inside the elevator, you were able to use the railing to alleviate some of Mari’s weight from your body and take some much needed breaths. When the doors opened again you came face to face with a worried looking Wonho. He stopped when he saw the two of you and then let out a frustrated yet relieved sigh.

“Here, I’ll take her,” he murmured, keeping his foot in the doorway so the doors wouldn’t shut. You carefully and gratefully passed Mari over. When his daughter was safely in his arms, Wonho motioned for you to come with them. You nodded and followed him down the hall to his apartment.

After Wonho let you into the apartment he promptly went off to put Mari to bed. You placed all your items on the kitchen table but kept on your sweater. You helped yourself to a glass of water and was still sipping from it when Wonho came back and joined you in the kitchen. He rested his hip on the counter and watched you quietly.

“What?” you ask, setting the glass down.

“Why didn’t you call me? Something could’ve happened to you.”

“I was just a few block away.” You shrug, not thinking much of it. As you pour yourself another glass of water you can feel Wonho’s gaze still on you. With an exasperated smile you turn to look at him. “What now?”

“You should stay here for the night.”

“I have work in the morning. Besides, there’s no clothes for me here.”

“You left some here for emergencies, remember?”

You hum around the sip of water. “I forgot. But that’s okay. If you could just give my car a jump that’d be great.”

“Y/N,” Wonho starts, moving closer to you. “You’re always there to help me and listen to me whine—“

“You don’t whine,” you cut him off. He gives you a pointed look at your interruption and you only shrug. “You don’t.”

“Anyway, just let me do something for you in exchange. Today you watched Mari so I’ll let you stay here for the night. Tomorrow I’ll give your car a jump and then we’ll get the battery changed.”

“That’s too much,” you continue to protest.

Wonho lets out a frustrated groan and looks at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at you. “Why won’t you accept my help?”

You study his face for a moment before looking away. If you were being honest, you didn’t know why you were rejecting his help. It’s not like you hadn’t slept over at his place before. But something in the soft look he was giving you made the butterflies in your stomach flutter and you couldn’t go through a full night of subtle pining after your best friend all while being in the same apartment as him.

“Y/N?”

Realizing you were taking too long to answer you turn and smile at him. “Really, it’s fine. You don’t have to make room for me here. I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re never a burden.” His reply was instant. “Please, Y/N it’s getting late, and what if you don’t make it all the way home?”

You breathe through your nose and nod. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay. But…can I have a ramen packet? I’m starving.”

Wonho lit up. “Of course! Any flavor you want!”

He immediately wandered over to the cupboard and pulled it open. “I have spicy chicken, chicken, beef, vegetable –“

“Chicken,” you interrupt quickly. You couldn’t sit through every flavor he was about to list. He nods happily, his mood taking a complete 180 since you agreed to stay. He pulls out two chicken flavored packs, one for each of you.

When you continued to stand there he clicked his tongue and shooed you away. “Go change.”

“I have clothes for tomorrow, not pajamas. I’m fine in this.”

“I have pajamas.” Wonho replied as if this statement solved all your problems. “Just borrow and old shirt and some sweats.”

You started to protest but stopped when he turned and gave you a mock glare over his shoulder. Shuffling away, you made your way to his bedroom and pulled open his pajama drawer. You pulled out the first articles of clothing you saw – an oversized blue shirt and sweat shorts – before changing into them. The waist on the shorts was too wide so you had to pull the drawstrings tight and knot them. You pulled your hair away from your face and quickly twisted it into a haphazard braid before folding your clothes and placing them on a chair in the corner of Wonho’s room.

Back in the kitchen you took a seat at the dining table and watched him pour the flavor packets into the noodles. He smiled at you and then carried over the pan and set it on the heat protecting pad before grabbing two pairs of chopsticks and sitting across from you.

You expected him to hand you a pair but instead he uses one set to dig in. You watch as he picks up a chunk of noodle, blows the steam away from it, and then holds it out to you.

“I can feed myself.” You scowl slightly. He only beckons with his hand for you to take the bite. Rolling your eyes, you lean in and bite into the noodles. You pull away and then grab the chopsticks from him. He laughs and then grabs his own pair and digs in.

Wonho huffs and you easily ignore it as you lay out blankets on the couch. You debate if you want to sleep on the fluffy one or use it as your main blanket and then decide to use it over you. When Wonho huffs again you rolls your eyes but continue to ignore him. You almost decide to start humming a song just to further annoy him but choose against it.

When you hear him inhale to huff once more you quickly turn and quirk a brow at him as you place your hands on your hips. “Sigh one more time and I’ll walk right out that door and sleep in my car.”

His eyes widen. “Don’t you dare! It’s just…it gets cold in the living room.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Wonho opened his mouth to protest once more but you point your finger at him. “Shin Hoseok, I swear! Just go to bed already.”

You turn away and plop down onto the couch and wrap the blankets around you. When Wonho continues to stand there you look at him and smile cheekily. “Can you hit the light for me?”

Wonho licks his lips and then nods. “Yes. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you called back. The living room went dark as he shut off the lights. You listened as his footsteps shuffled into his room. His door squeaked closed but you didn’t hear him close it all the way. Smiling to yourself you shifted a little to find a more comfortable position and then shut your eyes to sleep.

Your rest didn’t last long. Just as Wonho had said, it got cold. Very cold. You tried to cocoon your feet into the blanket but then your shoulders were uncovered and vice versa. But the couch was too narrow for you to curl into a ball. With a sigh you sat up and pulled the second blanket out from under you and threw over top with the other. However, that was also of no help. Whatever warmth you’d given to the blanket had seeped out quickly. A brief, fleeting thought at you crawling into bed with Wonho but you hastily pushed it aside and tried your best to make this work.

At the feeling of being lifted, your half-awake slumber was interrupted and you awoke fully with a start. Feeling you tense, the arms around you tightened gently. “Shh. It’s just me.”

“Put me down,” you groggily mutter.

“Y/N I could hear your teeth chattering all the way in my room.”

Wonho carried you to his bed and set you down gently before moving over to his side and crawling back under the covers.

“See, it’s much better. I’ll even turn my back to you so you don’t get too uncomfortable.” True to his word, Wonho spun around so his back was facing you. You turned your head and stared at his back. Feeling brave from your sleep induced mind you scooted a little closer and sighed contently when the heat form his back seeped into your side.

“You can turn around,” you whisper.

At first you don’t think he heard you, or maybe he’d fallen asleep. But slowly he turns around to face you and you’re grateful the darkness hides your blush.

“It’s weird,” he whispered. “We’ve been friends for so long but it feels like we haven’t actually talked for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“The other day I was thinking and I realized I don’t know what’s been going on in your life. In high school and college, we’d always talk about our problems and worries. We knew each other’s goals and dreams. But now I barely know what you’ve eaten for breakfast.”

“Cereal with half a bagel.” You answer is so immediate and tired Wonho can’t help but chuckle.

“I had toast and egg.” You nod as you shut your eyes, the weight of your lids too heavy to keep them open. But you smile encouragingly to let Wonho know you’re still listening if he wants to speak more. You jolt a little when you feel his hand reach up and trace a finger along your cheek. His finger moves along the lines of your face and then up to trace the bags under your eyes.

“You look so tired all the time now.”

“Work is hard.”

“Then lean on me.” You feel him scoot a little closer to you. “If the weight is too heavy, let me carry some for you. If you need a break, I’ll hold it all and wait for you.”

You purse your lips as he pulls his hand away and gain the will to open your tired eyes once more. “I feel the same towards you. But you’re too stubborn to let me in sometimes.”

Wonho smiles, a small tinge of sadness evident. “I like to try and figure things out on my own first.”

“I know,” you reply.

He stares off into the dark and you study his features. His eyes and face are swollen from sleep and he looks ready to pass out. You watch his eyes, knowing that if you’re to find out anything about what he’s feeling it’ll be seen there. Instead you feel your own fill up with tears. You mentally curse yourself, knowing the only reason you’re letting the tears well is because of how tired you are. If it were midday you’d have much better control.

You cover your face and turn away. Taking a deep breath, you try to stop it before it escalates but when Wonho murmurs your name you can’t help the stuttered sniffle that escapes you.

“Y/N…what’s wrong?” His voice raises slightly from the whisper. You can hear the worry and slight panic in his tone. “Are you uncomfortable? Did I say something wrong? I’ll go sleep on the couch if you want.”

He starts to crawl out of the bed but you reach out and gently grab his wrist. He stops his movements and lays back into the mattress, falling into silence. He adjusts your hold on him so that your fingers intertwine and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

When you finally regain yourself enough to speak, your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to erupt like that.”

“Talk to me, please.”

You lick your lips and use the sleeve your shirt to wipe at your eyes and nose. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Remember, in college, when Kihyun convinced me we were all going to be smurfs for Halloween, but you all were really going to be superheroes, so I had to go to the party in blue body paint while the rest of you looked amazing? That’s embarrassing. Nothing you tell me is going to make me think of you any differently, that’s a promise.”

You continue to sniffle behind your hand for another moment. Once you’ve taken a deep breath you speak but still refuse to move your hand from your face.

“I’m just worried you’ll never love me as much as I love you.”

When you were met with complete silence you knew you messed up. You shouldn’t have said anything. Or maybe you should’ve made up something about work being too hard. But you just knew you shouldn’t have told the truth. It was your turn to sit up and start to crawl out of bed.

“You’re not even going to give me time to respond?” Wonho’s voice stopped you at the edge of the bed. Your hands had since dropped from your face but you still refused to look at him. You sniffled again and then waited for him to continue.

The bed shifted as he moved around on it. You startled when his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you to lay back down. He snuggled into your side and you tensed at the sudden affection.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“It’s recent,” you lied. You don’t know why that answer came out of your mouth. But it was too late now to take it back.

“I do love you, Y/N.”

“Don’t…” You pull away slightly. He looks up at you in confusion. “I don’t want you to say things out of obligation. I know with Mari calling me Mom and everything, it may be confusing—“

“I’m not confused, and it’s not out of any ulterior feelings. Y/N I really do love you.”

You pause and try to study his face in the dark. He meets your gaze back squarely and gives a small hopeful smile. After you study his sincere expression you melt once more and return his embrace. He chuckles lightly as his arms tighten around you and pull you in.

You wanted to say more, but after crying you were mentally worn out. The last thing you felt before falling into slumber was Wonho pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

The next morning you woke up first. You smiled at Wonho’s sleeping face and pushed away the hair in front of his face before caressing his cheek. As last night’s events came back to your slowly awakening mind you blushed. Gently, you untangle yourself from his arms and climb off the mattress. You start towards the door but stop when you hear a small gasp and feet patter away in a rush.

With a grin you reach the door and open it just in time to see the door to Mari’s room shut. You walk over to the door and rasp your knuckles against the wood. At first when there’s no answer you contemplate opening the door yourself but the knob twists slowly before you can. Mari’s eyes peer through the crack and you see them crinkle in a sheepish smile.

“Whatcha doin’?” You asked.

“I’m just waking up,” she said breezily.

You nod your head pretending to believe her. “Well as long as you weren’t spying.”

She pulls away ever so slightly and the door shuts a little. “I’m sorry.”

With a smile you kneel down to eye level and gently push the door open. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it anymore.”

Mari nods and nibbles on her lip before asking, “Are you Daddy dating now?”

“I’m not entirely sure, squirt.”

“But you slept in the same bed.”

You blush and laugh awkwardly. “How about you get dressed for school and we’ll talk about this later.”

Mari pouts but nods and shuts her door to change. You stand back up and make your way to the kitchen. With the apartment still quiet, you set to work making coffee for two. As you wait for the coffee to brew you look through the cupboards for something to make for Mari’s lunch, as you’re low on cash to give her for hot lunch, but don’t find much.

In the fridge you spot some leftovers that are still good and decide it’s better than nothing. You also make a mental note of what to purchase for your next grocery run for Wonho. At the sound of a ringtone you startle from your thoughts and look around. You spot Wonho’s phone on the kitchen counter. Figuring he must’ve forgotten it there last night, you walk towards it and read the caller ID. You blink as you read the unsaved number, the digits familiar to you.

It suddenly hits you that this is the same number that called Wonho on Mari’s birthday. You pick up the phone and your other finger hovers over the answer button but you stop. Shaking your head, you put the phone back down and let the ringtone play out. You could never betray Wonho’s trust that way.

You finish the coffee and pour yourself a cup just as a half-asleep Wonho shuffles into the kitchen. He smiles groggily at you and comes to wrap his arms around your waist. You lift your brows at his affection but don’t say anything.

“Good morning,” he whispers against your shoulder.

“Good morning.” You set down your mug and return his embrace. He gives a little squeeze and then rocks the two of you side to side. You laugh and try to step away but he refuses to let go. “I gotta get dressed. And take Mari to school. You’re gonna have to let go.”

“Never.”

“Wonhoooo,” you whine as he chuckles.

“Mommy! My skirt has a stain.” Wonho steps away just in time for Mari to come around the corner. “Oh, Daddy! I didn’t know you were awake.”

“Hey, princess. You all ready for school?”

She nods and smiles excitedly. Wonho is only up for when he drops her off at school and those days are rare because of his late nights, so seeing her father in the morning is always fun for her. As the two of them talk you finish putting together Mari’s lunch and then go to get dressed.

When you see the clothes you’d left here, you scold your past self for only leaving summer and spring clothes. With a sigh you put on the pencil skirt and blue blouse using your sweater from yesterday. Back out front, Mari is waiting at the door for you. When she sees you she opens the door and steps into the hallway. You grab your purse and start to head out of the door but stop when Wonho’s hand catches your own. He slips on his shoes and starts with you out the door.

Mari sees you two holding hands and smiles brightly as the three of you walk to his car.

Wonho drives you the few blocks to your car and helps you place the correct prongs on the battery. When your car turns on with the help of his car, you smile at him through the windshield and then step out onto the street. He joins you in front of your car and reaches out his arms. He pulls you towards him and hesitantly presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Have a good day,” he smiles cheekily.

You grin and look away shyly. “You too.”

Back in the car Mari only giggles happily and you shoot her a fake glare.

After dropping off Mari you stopped at a convenience store and bought a travel tooth brush and a small tube of paste. At work you stopped at the restroom to brush your teeth before quickly making your way to your desk. You smile and greet your coworkers as they pass and they do the same to you.

The morning zooms by as you work. As your lunch break arrives you save all your documents and check your bank account to see if you can use your card to buy some lunch. When you decide you have enough to spare you grab your purse and stand up only to see the receptionist making her way over to you.

“Y/N before you go on break, there’s someone here to see you.”

You look at you blankly. “I’m not expecting anyone.”

The receptionist gives you a sheepish and slightly worried look. “She says she won’t leave until she sees you.”

She? You frown, having absolutely no idea who could be here to see you. You smile at the receptionist and nod. “Okay, I’ll check it out. Thank you.”

Making your way downstairs you run through a list in your head of who it could be. Sadly, you don’t have very many female friends, something you feel the impact of whenever you can’t go to the guys, so the list is short. You walk into the lobby and scan the area. There’s the usual hustle and bustle of employees trying to get where they’re going. Only one lady is standing still.

She’s by the window, staring out at the scenery. Her hair is long and loose, draping down her back. She’s wearing a casual outfit of jeans and a tan sweater.

Her back is to you, but as you make your way closer to her you can’t help but feel she’s familiar. As you step closer to her, she must’ve sensed you were behind her as she started to turn around.

When you caught sight of her profile you felt like the world was pausing. Memories of high school and college come rushing back to you in a whirlwind. She’s turned fully around and meets your wide eyed gaze squarely and confidently. As you stumble for something to say she smiles at you.

“Hi, Y/N. Long time no see.”

You take a deep breath and clear your throat. “Long time no see…Ahreum.”

[wanderingtycho]

Variantale: Snowfall Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is the first installment of an Undertale fan fiction story I've been working on for a few months now, it started out as a simple little prompt and quickly spiraled into something far more complex and involved than intended. I have the first three chapters already written, and am working on chapter 2 now, so I've decided to start posting them in an effort to gauge peoples interests.

Please enjoy and thank you for reading, let me now what you thought and if you'd like to see the story continue. :) <3

Next

-Tycho 

“How does it even snow down here, anyway?” Sans wondered aloud to himself, staring up into the bank of shadow that hung over the snow capped trees, watching as fleeting snowflakes tumbled downward unto the frosted earth.

The forest stretched on for miles before the skeleton, towering pines that creaked and muttered in their perpetual sleep, their dreams of the warm sun harshened by chilling winds. Those same winds swirled and lashed at Sans as he stood rooted in place, sandals sinking steadily into the permafrost, his dull blue jacket still stark against the all encompassing white glare. Silence prevailed over the winter landscape, the scene still and calm yet undercut with tension, as if in anxious anticipation. It was all so...serene, Sans thought wistfully, such a marked contrast to that fateful day. His left eye socket began to glower with a cobalt light as he remembered back, to when the entire order of things had changed, when the human made their mad rush to the castle.

He lifted his skeletal hands from their pockets, rasping the digits together slowly, the dry grating sound a soft echo across the vast expanse of snow. His skull lowered to stare directly into the treeline, piercing white eyes glaring past ice laden needles, hunting for any sign of movement. Years of searching for the slightest hint of activity had rendered Sans hyper vigilant, countless days spent sleeplessly combing the Underground for...for anything. Anything that would lead him to the human. It’s what drove the skeleton forward, his bones had grown numb to the ache of exhaustion that he had known so well in his youth. Now it was more akin to a dulled exhilaration, a subdued sort of excitement that characterized his decade long hunt. Sans was suddenly struck by a dark thought as he stood taut in his stance, a twisted contemplation that caused the skeleton to let out a harrowing laugh. He clasped his kneecaps tightly and hunched forward, his permanent grin stretched wider as the cackling shook his entire body. The laugh of a man pushed over the edge, forced to climb back up to the top...only to be shoved off again and again. “Ha..haha...heh...this...this must be what they felt like.” he muttered to himself, wiping a tear from his boney cheek, gripping his coat collar tightly as he came down from his fit.

Sans recalled his days of apathy and laziness, sitting idly by as the human carried out their depraved routine over and over again, even as everyone he cared for was murdered and terrorized. He raised a trembling hand and ran it slowly over his skull, his left eye smoldering as energy leaked out and seared the frigid air, the memories of death and destruction replaying with painful clarity. He had tried...he knew he must’ve tried, at least a few times to stop the human. After awhile, he realized defeating them was an exercise in futility, he could never combat their true power. Their ability to reset time itself, restore the entire world back to its original state, and start all over. For centuries it went on, countless timelines stripped of life and meaning by the human, and Sans was expected to fight his pointless fight unending. Eventually, he simply gave up, succumbing to his failures and hopelessness. It got to the point where he wouldn’t even bother watching it anymore, he’d just lay in bed and listen to the sounds of panic and dismay outside his window, only to be followed by those soft footfalls marching through the snow. It all started to seem like some sort of dream, a surreal nightmare that looped ceaselessly, and Sans knew that he would never wake up.

A bizarre hissing sound broke Sans’ disturbed reminiscing, a gout of blue flame had started to pour from his left eye and spill across the ground, the thick snow vaporized by the ethereal fire. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to dispel the searing magic, lashing a hand outwards to his side in order to drive it away. Sans opened his eyes and blinked, regarding the charred patch of earth beneath his feet, nursing a flicker of doubt deep in his mind. Remembering back to those days always seemed to trigger his abilities, regardless of whether or not he wanted to use them. Focusing on the more...unpleasant moments intensified his powers, but there was always a small worry that he might lose his concentration, leaving him trapped in his memories while the magic ran amok. It was part of why he left Snowdin in the first place, that and...monsters didn’t really seem to find Sans’ jokes funny anymore. He chuckled coldly to himself, taking a step forward and crunching over the singed dirt, making his way steadily towards the treeline. “Their loss.” he muttered under his breath, his march through the snow barely audible, moving amongst the towering trees along an aimless questing path. Sans had read about forests on the surface, poetic descriptions of birdsong and the chittering of small creatures, but in the Underground the forests were empty. Save for a nomadic band of monsters that had run away from their homes before the massacres...and, of course, his human quarry.

Sans trudged forward slowly, each seemingly innocuous step actually deliberate, carving a path that would be quite confusing to follow into the drifts of ice. He kept his head lowered slightly, appearing to focus only on the ground directly in front of him, while his eyes darted wildly and erratically. Scanning for the faintest impression that he wasn’t alone, the barest shred of evidence that he was on the trail of his target, the human couldn’t stay on the run without leaving a trace. Sans suspected that if he actually had a heart, it would be racing right now, hunting for a human like this was so much more intense than simply standing in front of the doors to the Ruins. Then again, this method didn’t involve re-calibrating any puzzles, he thought with a brief snicker. “Heheh...we woulda been much better off just ambushin’ ‘em. Me an’ Paps coulda…coulda………”

Sans stopped walking and stood dead in his tracks, his hands involuntarily falling from his pockets and hanging loosely at his sides, posture slouching as the desire to move was stomped out. He could feel tears welling in his sockets, and after a moment’s resistance, let them fall. Bright blue liquid ran down his jawline and dripped onto the snow, staining the flakes with an unnatural glow, a skeletons only way to express mourning. With a start, Sans realized just how long it had been since he last thought about...him. Papyrus. Just thinking the name flooded his mind with memories and clashing emotions, they were the only pleasant thoughts he had left, yet all they did was remind him of how much he had lost. Paps had been right by his side when they first showed up in Snowdin, completely oblivious to the suspicious and confused looks they were greeted with, overwhelmingly confident that he would win their adoration. Sans would never forget the day they both met Undyne…_____________________________________________________________ “COME ALONG, BROTHER! THE NICE MONSTERS COWERING BEHIND THAT WEIRD TREE COVERED IN TINSEL SAID THIS ‘CAPTAIN UNDYNE’ FELLOW WOULD BE MEETING US HERE!” Papyrus declared excitedly, beaming with exhilaration as he strutted towards the outskirts of Snowdin, clad in a bright orange shawl that contrasted his brothers dreary blue jacket. His legs and feet were left unadorned, skeletal toes leaving strange staggered tracks in the snow, but Papyrus had taken part of his cloak to wrap around his hands as makeshift gloves. Apparently, it had something to do with making properly shaped snowballs. Sans followed along a few feet behind, hands shoved deep into his pockets, in no particular hurry to match Papyrus’ energy.

“eh...actually bro...they said undyne would be showing up to kick our a-…” Sans started to say, cutting himself off abruptly just before forming an expletive, Papyrus turned around to look at his brother with a curious expression.

“WHAT WAS THAT, SANS? KICK OUR…” he asked, letting the sentence hang as he stared at Sans expectantly, the shorter skeleton chagrined and rubbing the back of his skull.

“uh...just...kick us outta town, paps...yeah.” Sans replied weakly, desperately hoping Papyrus wouldn’t inquire further into his choice of language, luckily for him Papyrus was distracted by the prospect his brother had just proposed.

“KICK US OUT? NONSENSE! I’M SURE ONCE WE EXPLAIN WHO WE ARE AND WHAT WE’RE DOING HERE, UNDYNE AND THE REST OF THE MONSTERS WILL TREAT US AS HONORED GUESTS!” he said confidently, bounding a few more steps forward before he suddenly stopped, setting his jaw in deep contemplation. He looked back at Sans, appearing confused as he rubbed his left arm slowly, as if trying to remember something vague and murky. “SPEAKING OF...UMMM...I’VE BEEN MEANING TO ASK...SANS...HAVE YOU HAD ANY LUCK REMEMBERING WHY WE’RE HERE?” Papyrus asked, looking at his brother sheepishly, while Sans kept his expression deliberately neutral.

He couldn’t recall much of what happened before they came to Snowdin, only that he and Papyrus had been wandering the wilderness for a long time...after...Sans’ left eye socket flared bright blue as disjointed images flashed through his mind. His fingers started to tremble slightly, the snow beneath his feet agitated by an unseen force, the already frigid wind growing even colder. Papyrus immediately rushed to his brother’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder comfortingly, his grin a strange combination of reassuring and nervous. “H-HEY! YOU KNOW WHAT? IT...IT ISN’T IMPORTANT WHY WE’RE HERE, OR HOW WE GOT HERE, OR...UHH...ANYWAY, WHAT MATTERS IS THAT WE’RE TOGETHER, RIGHT?” he asked cheerfully, his grin wide but his eye sockets showing evident concern as he stared at Sans, worry mounting as his brothers eye burned with that strange blue fire. Sans looked up at Papyrus slowly, wanting so badly to share with him the fragments of memories he kept seeing, tell him about the twisted things that haunted what little sleep he could get. As he stared back into his brother’s eyes, seeing the innocence and hopefulness within Papyrus...he just couldn’t bring himself to force that burden on him. Instead, he fought down the nightmarish visions and shrugged off Papyrus’ hand, giving him a sly grin.

“heh...yeah thats what really matters. after all, im the only one with a funnybone between us.” he said, snapping his fingers in comedic flare, to which Papyrus snorted derisively.

“PSSSH, HONESTLY SANS. I DO HOPE THOSE BAD JOKES DON’T TURN INTO A REGULA-” he started to say, only to be interrupted by the sound of massive footfalls crunching through the snow, growing closer and louder with each passing second. Papyrus clapped his hands together excitedly and stood, still facing Sans as he brushed snow away from the cloth that covered his leg bones, adjusting his posture and putting on a more winning smile. He spun around smartly, drawing a breath to deliver his usual over enthusiastic salutation, only to be dumbstruck by the sight that greeted him.

Standing only feet away was a towering figure clad in gleaming iron armor, thick plates of highly polished black metal imposingly stark against the snow covered ground, a massive spear of glowing energy clutched tightly in their left hand. Their helmet was an intimidating and ancient visage, the twinkling light of a single eye visible, a long plume of vibrantly crimson hair flowing cinematically behind them. They surveyed the skeletal siblings before them for a long moment before hefting the magical spear effortlessly, settling into a defensive stance.

“You there. Skeletons. Identify yourselves and your purpose in Snowdin Town at once, or face the wrath of King Asgore’s Royal Guard.” barked an aggressive, resonate voice from behind the jagged visor, a voice that carried easily and powerfully across the snow coated path. Sans gave the figure a cursory examination, deciding he could take them without too much hassle if it came down to it, provided their armor wasn’t somehow blaster-proof. Papyrus, on the other hand, was completely transfixed by the staggeringly dangerous opponent before him. He stood admiring them for seconds on end, wowed by the sheer aesthetics of their fierce black armor, blown away by the brilliant sheen of their wickedly pointed spear. The awkward silence built between the three figures for about a minute, to the point where the knight began to feel slightly unnerved by the taller skeletons...adoring gaze. The shorter one seemed thoroughly uninterested in the situation, but despite his apathetic demeanor, the knight suspected him of being more capable than he looked. Unbeknownst to any of the silent participants of this impromptu standoff, Papyrus’ lower jaw had been hanging agape, stretching wider and wider as the skeleton gawked. Just as the knight drew a breath to threaten their potential challengers, there were two loud pops in rapid succession, followed by a clattering as Papyrus’ jaw fell to the ice slickened ground.

Deafening silence prevailed as all three figures stared down at the fallen component of the taller skeletons skull, until Sans let out an extended snort of laughter he had been desperately trying to suppress, failing miserably as Papyrus shot him a scathing glare. The lanky skeleton knelt down carefully to pick up his jaw, only to scrabble for a grip and have it slide away on a patch of ice. In panic, Papyrus rushed forward to grab at the bone, only to lose his footing and kick it even further away. Sans collapsed to his knees, his composure finally shattering as he let out a howling stream of laughter, gasping for breath as he watched his brother continue to fumble for his elusive jaw. The knight stood in place watching the scene unfold, slowly lowering their spear to the ground, utterly perplexed by what they were witnessing. Papyrus’ misfortunes only continued to magnify as he poured more effort into catching the confoundingly agile length of bone, every desperate grab only extending the farcical scenario as the jaw skittered out of his reach. Meanwhile, Sans was reduced to lying on his back, kicking his feet wildly as his laughter grew more and more intense. This carried on for a solid minute before Papyrus’ frustration reached a fevered pitch, leaping up into the air and diving down towards the deceptively immobile jawbone, crashing into the ice and furiously grappling for it. His momentum carried him further than intended as he slid across the frozen path, a harsh screeching sound filling the air as his bones scraped against the ice, his absurd ordeal finally coming to a close as he crashed bodily into a snowdrift.

Sans rolled onto his stomach, barely able to breath as hysterical laughter wracked his body, the snow immediately surrounding him spattered blue as tears of pure hilarity poured down his face. After a few moments, he managed to restore some self control, shakily climbing to his feet and trying to stop himself from giggling. Papyrus’ skeletal feet stuck straight into the air, flailing and kicking as he attempted to crawl his way out of the pile of snow, his left hand punching through the frost to hold his jaw aloft triumphantly. Sans snickered and wiped the tears from his cheeks, casting a glance towards the knight, who hadn’t moved during the entire display. She had sheathed her spear and removed her gaunt helmet, revealing herself to be a...fish creature of sorts, her greenish blue scales and flexing gills fairly evident giveaways. A beaten eyepatch was stretched over her left eye, still leaving her with a quite intense stare, fixing her gaze on the snowdrift as Papyrus attempted to reattach his jaw. Sans carefully observed her expression as she watched the skeleton struggle, undaunted by his humiliating experience, a curt grin spreading briefly across her face… ________________________________________________________________ Sans blinked a few times as he returned to the present moment, a faded melancholy smile on his face, sighing deeply as he remembered his brothers irrepressible spirit. Anybody else would’ve given up hope of ever impressing someone after that, but Paps was undeterred as always, swearing fealty to the Royal Guard before Undyne was even finished explaining what it was. Sans could never fully understand how Papyrus did it, the way he was never discouraged, no matter how colossally his plans backfired. No matter how awkwardly monsters reacted to him, no matter how many times his ambitions were stunted...never once did his optimism falter. Not once.

Sans reached into his jacket and slowly pulled out a small figurine, a plastic statuette of a skeletal pirate, a curved sword clutched in its outstretched hand and a tricorner hat fixed on its skull. He stared down at it covetously, unaware of how much time was passing, not noticing as snow began to pile on top of his feet and gather on his coat collar. It was Papyrus’ favorite figure from his collection, the only memento Sans had taken into his self imposed exile...it’s what he would have spread Papyrus’ dust on if he could have. He raised the grinning pirate closer to his face, staring into the empty eye sockets dejectedly, barely registering that his own had been shedding tears uninhibited.

“Paps...bro, I...I should...I should’ve been there....I should’ve never...given up. Given up on...my friends...on m-myself.........on you.” Sans whispered quietly to the figurine, his voice strained on the verge of sobbing, the snow beneath him almost fluorescently blue. As he stood there, transfixed by his own grief, his thoughts suddenly shifted away from nostalgic memoriam. Fingers tightening around the plastic shape, causing the casing to creak audibly in his grasp, his flow of tears slowly altering into an excess of magic. Sans clenched his free hand into a fist, his mouth warped into a vengeful grin, both eye sockets aflame as he took a shuddering step forward. “...I swear...I’ll find them, brother...I’ll make them pay for every time they hurt you. Every. Single. Time.” he muttered bitterly, clutching the small figure close to his chest, his footsteps halting and scattered, bright blue flames beginning to spread down his coat. The air was filled with the sound of hissing as snow was flash melted against the wreaths of fire, Sans rested a hand against a nearby tree and leaned against it, his skeletal handprint branding itself into the frozen bark. “They won’t beat me again...no matter how hard they try...” Sans mumbled to himself, caught between a strange combination of tittering rage and hysteric amusement, digging his fingertips deeper into the charred wood. He shut his eyes tightly, his bones shivering beneath his clothing, magic seeping out from behind his ribcage billowing out unto the frozen ground. Sans clutched the sides of his skull and sank to the ground, trying to shut out the myriad of ghastly images whirling in his mind, drawing a breath to vent his anguish in ragged scream...

*SNAP*

  Sans’ eyes flew open, the magic torrent wrapped around his form immediately extinguished, the skeleton falling completely still and silent as his emotional breakdown was interrupted. He practically stopped breathing for a few seconds as he strained his hearing to the limit, desperate to convince himself that what he had heard was real, that it wasn’t just another hallucination...

*CRACK*

There it was again, no mistaking it this time, only a few dozen meters away. Sans carefully rose to his feet, his breathing shallow and terse, shuffling towards the direction of the noise as quietly as possible. He sidled up the trunk of a massive tree, leaning incrementally to peer around it, fingers digging into the bark unconsciously. Past his hiding spot was a small clearing in the forest, a field of snow dotted with clusters of puny sapling’s, shriveled diminutive trees robbed of growth by the harshening winter. One had already been stripped of its wispy branches, broken off roughly and quickly, piled together in a small bundle. Sans stared unblinkingly as a lone figure dropped another branch unto the pile, his bleak pupils following their every movement as they approached another sapling and began to tug at an ice coated limb.

They strained and struggled as the branch refused to yield easily, after a few moments they huffed in frustration, reaching a hand towards their waist and grabbing hold of something. Sans’ subdued breathing hitched unconsciously as he watched the figure draw a large kitchen knife from their belt, raising it high into the air for an overhead swing, the gleaming blade shimmering under weak reflected pseudo-starlight. They brought it down swiftly onto the base of the branch, carving through the stubborn wood like it had the resistance of paper, the length of kindling falling to the ground with barely a noise. The figure grunted in satisfaction, picking up the branch and turning around to face the treeline, totally unaware of their silent observer. Sans’ eyes changed as the figure turned towards him, piercingly white pupils vanishing instantly, leaving him with only hollow sockets to stare at...the human gathering firewood.

Sans’ world seemed to narrow incredibly as he continued to gaze emptily at the human, as if he could only perceive their movements and actions, committing every detail to his mind within an instant. That vibrantly striped shirt they had clearly outgrown years ago, that head of unkempt, shoulder length dirty brown hair...that flat, emotionless face. Eyes just as hollow as Sans’, like staring into the night sky itself, a window into true darkness. The skeleton stood against the tree for what seemed like hours to him, unable to move, unable to break his line of sight. Ten years he had spent imagining this moment, plotting out every conceivable way he could confront his target, each newly devised approach grislier than the last. Now...as the human went about their business mere feet away from him...he felt himself standing in front of the door to the Ruins... ________________________________________________________________ ...leaning against the bark of a tree, his eyelids slowly drooping as he felt a post-morning nap coming on...when the sound of soft footsteps interrupted his dozing. Sans blinked and yawned, looking through the treeline to see a diminutive figure marching through the snow, eye sockets widening as he realized the strange looking interloper could only be a human. “huh, lookit that. today was the day after all, guess i owe paps a weeks worth of dishes.” he thought aloud, a mixture of disbelief and suspicion in his voice, pondering to himself how he should approach the situation. On the one hand, he had been assisting Papyrus in his overly convoluted human “hunts” for years, and here was a sterling opportunity for Sans to help him realize his dream. Then again...Undyne wasn’t exactly the type to treat them kindly, and once they were brought to Asgore...it wouldn’t be pretty. As he debated whether to approach or apprehend the human, Sans heard the soft, plaintive voice of the strange woman who lived in the Ruins echo through his thoughts.

“Sans...I have something to ask of you...if...if a human were to ever walk through this door into the Underground...watch over them, please? Guide them along their journey, keep them safe, I know it is a lot to request but...please, Sans. As a favor for me, for a friend?”

The skeleton let out a resigned sigh, watching as the human slowly walked further down the path. “why am i such a sucker for older women?” he asked aloud to himself, shaking his head and taking a whoopie cushion out of his pocket, grinning as he bound it to his palm. “welp, better go introduce myself, can’t have paps scarin’ em’ outta their skin.” he said, chuckling at his own joke, leisurely making his way through the snow as the silhouetted shape reached the first gate… ________________________________________________________________ Sans snapped back to the present, suppressing the urge to clear his skull by shaking it, keeping himself stock still as to not risk spooking the human. His caution was relatively unnecessary, as his target had remained oblivious to his presence as they continued to hack away at another sapling. Their back was turned to Sans as he stared holes through their head, reaching a hand up pinch the bridge of his absent nose, trying to settle the memories vying for control of his faculties. His promise to Toriel was one of the most vivid, a reluctant promise he had made lifetimes ago, if only he could have appreciated the weight of those words when he’d spoken them.

With a start, Sans realized he was stilling holding the pirate figurine, greatly relieved that his magical episode hadn’t melted the plastic. He wrested his gaze away from the human and stared into the skeletal eye sockets of the statue, his nervous and desperate expression slowly fading, replaced by a chillingly wide grin as his eyes sparked back to life. He carefully placed the pirate into a coat pocket, slowly removing a dusty whoopie cushion in its place, wrapping it around his palm tightly and clenching his free hand in preparation. Sans returned his focus to the human mere feet away, the deja vu of his current position not lost on him, his massive grin growing a fraction as he felt the years of his long hunt granting him a familiar exhilaration.

“How could I pass up a chance like this?” he whispered to himself, focusing his energy and warping instantly across the short distance, materializing within inches of his unsuspecting quarry. He extended his hand outward and, as a bit of an afterthought, snuffed out his pupils to leave his sockets empty. For nostalgia’s sake.

“H u m a n...don’t you know...how to greet an old pal? Turn around...and shake...my...hand.”