#also figuring this is the start of them making the bet / dare before diving into the sabotage and falling in love part?

[selfsabotaqe]

*       ♡     ◞      open starter      ╱    open to all.

bitter taste of vodka burned in their throat, perfect match to his current mood. maybe it was spiteful but having been particularly unlucky in the realm of love, he despised the sight of his best friend’s recent instagram post. including their partner’s lips connected to their cheek as a huge rock shimmered on their ring finger.   “ it’s all such bullshit. there’s no way i haven’t yet run out of karma. what’s supposedly so bad about dating me? ”   nose scrunched almost instinctively as he mulled over the answer to his own question, quickly turning towards his companion,   “ don’t actually answer that. ”   he was quite sure they would gladly reiterate their long list of reasons to loathe him, and he did not care to hear it in this rare moment of vulnerability.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

The Simon fic with the prompt hit me like a brick.

It was SOO GOOD, i really bow before you, you’re very good at what you do. The Hotel was such a nice little unique detail, really feels like you’ve given Simon more depth which i appreciate. Overall it’s such a nice change of pace from what i normally see written for him. Thank you for “fixing him” <3

ohmygosh thank you so much 💗😭💗 like I said in the notes I have a lot of feelings about him, and when I was thinking up how to tie the prompt to his canon I was wondering how to get the reader close enough to him to say it when we don't really see a ton of him outside of his villain plot, and what we do see is everyone just beating him down the whole time because they think he sucks.

It's good for short things where you can make him into whoever you need him to be for your plot and use those brief moments to still keep him in character however you interpret him, but since the prompt is intimate that made it a little harder for me to work up to, so I decided to go a little deeper and add him to my Deep Dive List of Characters I Really Enjoy and Need to Fully Interpret My Way.

More under the cut, it's finally deep dive time and I ended up writing a ton, here we goooooo

Okay so to start, here's what we do know about him from on screen things and context clues, things mentioned in passing:

He really is good with building things. Obviously the bomb collars weren't bought online, his credit card statements mention 'electronic equipment' and they have to figure out on the fly how to disarm them, they're something they haven't seen before. He also owns a giant satellite so he more than likely figured out how to hook it up to his minicam system so he could get the feed no matter how far they travelled, as well as keep his stream from being properly locked onto. He was only training in the Academy so he never actually made the bomb squad before he was kicked out, and it all just tells me he's gotta be smart, handy, his memory must be damn good to remember what he learned before his removal, and he for sure knows how to work with tech well enough that he didn't blow himself up while building the things.

He has a temper. It's seen the most when Jeannie is saved, that entire end of the stream did him no favours with him broadcasting how she felt towards him while everyone was on her side. When he hears her call him creepy he looks hurt, but to have everyone agree switches it to anger, panic, how dare she do this to him when he was finally getting the attention he deserves. When she's saved it's just insult to injury, she gets to bring him down this time to his face pretty much, have 5000 people join in on that, and when she not only lives he becomes the target of their hate before leaving him. It's no surprise he breaks his screen after this, he's just been insulted to high hell, and he's just learned that the man who did it got a second chance after doing way worse things than he did. I believe his temper stems from other emotions first, like sadness and panic, he only gets mad after everyone leaves, when the cops show up to save Kennex and them being on site could mean his arrest or worse, and when he's already emotionally vulnerable about venting about his black marks. He's never mad right out the gate, annoyed or frustrated yes but never truly angry, so I'll bet a lot has to build up first before his temper turns vocal or physical. I don't doubt a bit of this showed itself during the loan meeting, which got him the title of unstable if he started getting overwhelmed and worked up when things started going south.

He's desperate for attention and getting it makes him emotional. This one doesn't fully show until the end, but the entire episode is nothing but him vying for attention and approval and even respect. He's been nothing but rejected leading up to this, 'unstable,' 'unqualified,' 'creepy,' 'gives a bad feeling,' he had a bad psych evaluation, so when he finally gets that approval when he tries his killing game something clicks, this is it, this is what he's been yearning for. No more doubt, the viewers love it, he gets to enjoy seeing the people who hurt him get hurt, and having those two things overlap fills him with actual joy to the point that it makes him cry. It genuinely makes me wonder just how lonely he had to be and how bad his mental health had gotten for it to build up to this point, get this bad all around, and I truly believe that having someone there for him while all the bad things were happening could've avoided his turn to villainy entirely.

He truly believes that this is justice. They hurt him, insulted him, they deserve to pay. He really is a villain here, there is no denying that, but I also think he's probably completely isolated outside of work, and all that loneliness and isolation and pain can convince you to do anything, that what you're doing is right, and this time it convinced him that revenge was the best medicine. He thinks that using them to get him the attention he believes he deserves will also help his pain, no more reminders of being rejected, it'll be cathartic, and when people start cheering him on it only solidifies that thought. This is what they want to see, now he can deliver and feel better at the same time, two birds with one stone, no more villains out there to hurt him and others while he's finally respected.

He might work from home. When he sees Kennex during the stream he appears to look him up immediately, so he might have access to the trashed data from home, or he's made it so he can access it away from work, which again ties into how smart he is. This one isn't as big, but working from home would only isolate him more and send his mental health straight into the garbage with how much I already doubt he gets out, which would make his desire for positive attention even stronger; this is something I can relate to since my only means of social interaction is through my family and work seeing as I don't have any local friends, I know how your mental health can tank when it's just you alone in your room for days with no one to talk to, think pandemic times only it never ends, so I just know if this one is true then this is probably why he latched on so hard to every other point.

He's 'creepy'. This one I cannot fathom, since we don't get to see him outside of villainy stuff, but I will also fully admit that my DD bias also doesn't believe he was creepy enough to ditch before the date even started, that is legitimately so cold. I mean, he brought roses and packed a picnic, he was clearly trying, and he did want to meet someone enough to make a dating profile, even left it up after he was dumped, although I do bet he abandoned it after that since oh my god my heart would be so broken if that happened to me, writing that part of the fic nearly made me cry. Since she did leave before the date started he must've said or done something to give her that vibe, but like in the fic I bet it was something probably along the lines of not knowing how to talk to people and having it come off wrong; maybe he was overly affectionate right away and asked for hugs or a cheek kiss that first meeting, gave off the impression of needy/clingy right away and like she'd have no choice but to leave early? Like if she said something he would put her in danger and/or not let her leave? If something like this had happened before there would probably be more warnings in the forums for people to stay away, not just hers, so my guess is that a bunch of things happened that made her too wary, and that mixed in with the callout that he may or may not have seen hurt him bad enough to make sure she was on his list. She was probably the first match he made on the site as well, or really was his first date, so finally feeling wanted and then getting burned so bad did not help his already bad mental health.

Despite his knack for tech, he wanted to open a bar. This one is so interesting to me because why of all things would he want to open a bar? He was training to be on the bomb squad, he works part-time in Data Waste Handling, and he's smart enough to build things and quite possibly code and/or hack, so why a bar? This is another thing I really had to think about while writing since it stands out to me so much, and I think I might've been onto something with his desire to connect with people; they could've given him any reason to want that loan, it could've been to help get a better place or at least expand his trailer (my aunt and uncle did that and goddamn it turned into such a beautiful two-story house, no joke you can't even tell unless you already know), it could've even been to start a different business entirely based around the previous things they built up for him, and instead he wants to open such a social thing in a future where tech is already super advanced. I truly believe he was really trying to connect with people via this desire, his attempts to date, but thanks to his black marks haunting him as well as his social and personality problems it only pushed him further into his isolation.

I don't think he ever realized that not everything was terrible because of his black marks. As mentioned above I think his isolation and poor mental health convinced him that hurting people was the right thing to do, but I also think that he genuinely could not see that not everything was because of that bad psych eval. I think that he started rationalizing things away, blamed everything on the eval, and refused to acknowledge when something was actually his fault, creating a terrible personality that did not help his cause at all. I don't think he knew how bad he himself had gotten, and as such saw no need to work on himself, since it all went back to that black mark, so all that rationalizing warped his personality and made him bitter, stubborn, and cruel.

He really did kill someone. I had forgotten about this since it's only shown on screen so you have to pause, this one will be talked about more below.

Now, here's some things that the reader's presence and I changed based on canon:

He has a second job. We don't know how long ago the loan was, but I'm guessing it had to be recent and stacked on top of the heartbreak, which was only a couple months ago according to Jeannie. I don't think he'd have been a pretty good bartender with that little social interaction, so having him work in another bar to learn the ropes and teach him first would've been very good for him while he saved up. In my fic I never had it mentioned on his dating profile since DWH seemed more professional, and since he didn't actually get the bartending job he wanted he might not have wanted to add in Waiter to that section to make himself look a little better.

He doesn't drive, or at least doesn't currently own a car. It's a small detail, and Jeannie does mention that she bailed when he went to the car to get the picnic basket, but I wanted to give the reader an excuse to drive him around. This one was a purely plot-related choice but it works so well with how much things aren't going for him. Maybe when he got evicted he lived in his car for a while, it's how he was able to keep his computer and remaining things safe, and when he was buying his trailer he had to sell it to get the money? I can see that, I should've written that in the fic itself OTL

Jeannie asked him out, not the other way around. Since the reader was there to tell him to wait, he didn't rush into things, which he might've in canon, but he still did ask her to meet him at the park. I also chose to go the tech route instead of clingy route for their date because yeah it's such a bad start to tell someone you know where they work within five minutes of meeting them. Still creepy, but in a consistent-with-my-narrative misunderstood way since the reader knows him and how that wasn't his intention, in fact he probably thought it was okay because he was blinded by excitement and the fact that the reader already gave him permission to look them up, so he figured it'd be fine to do it again in case he did want to surprise her. Dumb of ass and clueless, not malicious or dangerous.

He needed encouragement to go through with his canon choices. He still would've done them, but having the reader there to cheer him on has him go into both situations with hope and more confidence than he probably had in canon, which only makes the fact that he still had to fail hurt so much more. He also probably went in with less volatile reactions, especially with the loan, since my version of him has him actively talking with people and has his emotions more under control, so I wanted to blame his rejection entirely on the psych eval instead of what had to be a mix of both.

His self-worth is directly tied to his canon situations. It isn't mentioned at all straight out in either canon nor fic but I dialed this one down; in canon he believes that people should've respected him, which screams delusions of grandeur based on too many times getting rejected mixed in with being unable to see the problems in his own life caused by himself, and blatantly ignoring them while blaming them on his black marks. In my fic the highest it gets is him believe that he deserved basic human decency after he keeps getting shot down over and over due to misunderstandings. This isn't a man who's about to become a vigilante for the views, this is someone who just needs anybody to be there for him, tell him it's okay, help him work through where he went wrong and adjust what he did so he doesn't fail in the future. Maybe one canon presence in his life could've led to this path and the episode could've gone entirely different with someone else while he lived a normal life, but sadly it isn't which is the entire reason I'm doing this deep dive in the first place.

He was able to open the bar with the reader's help. This one is only implied, as well as the fact that he now lives with them, but I feel like if he did have someone like that on his side then he'd have had a better chance at getting that loan, and he would be so much happier and social and mentally well thanks to it. Running the place would take up a lot of his time but it would also get him outta his own head a lot more, and having so many other people around directly interacting with him as the boss instead of sometimes ordering him around as an employee would really help him fix any remaining personality issues all around as well since he'd be more aware of how he was acting and treating others.

He killed someone in self-defense, not to actually hurt them. This was a big one, since it happened before the episode and he obviously was released prior to this, and I feel like if this was an actual homicide he kinda would still be in prison, right? His mugshot looks recent (only because of filming which I get but I'm rolling with it), so it couldn't be too long ago, but it's more than likely closer to present in canon than the five years ago I timed his eviction around, since I think if that happened too close then he would just be a mess. I can't see him getting his DWH job immediately after either thing happened, going for a loan after either is so out of the question as well, and killing someone and then going on a date is just ridiculous. For canon, my guess is that an argument escalated and that temper of his as well as the unstableness and reasons for his bad psych eval all came out at once, or maybe this was a test to see if he actually could kill someone, and it either had to happen before or while he was in the Academy like in my fic, or it happened in the two months leading up to the episode, even though I can't for the life of me explain him getting out so soon if he did do it on purpose. And that's fine, it does make sense if either of those are close, they needed something dramatic to put on his rap sheet and make him terrible so he's not just randomly jumping straight to murder, but I personally like the idea of him being broken down so much that this is just the icing on the cake, another black mark on his life that'll follow him forever, and it's only through him being acquitted and a miracle that he gets his two jobs a year or two later.

Things I'd love to explore in future fics:

He might actually enjoy streaming. This one is obvious but I wanna do my own take on it! I don't know if he would be the type to stick to only games, but there is someone I watch who does whatever makes him happy now as well as games, and I think Simon might mesh with that a lot. He would obviously put a lot of weight on the numbers aspect of it (again, very me-coded, it doesn't matter how much I do things for myself, having that approval makes all the difference in the world and I know he's the same), but the reader would help him try and get over that in time. When he's able to hire more staff and spend more time at home I think he would do random weekend streams, and if he got AH's version of the youtube play buttons he would definitely cry and put it on display with pride. He would treasure all his viewers, and make his streams very personal because of that, learning frequent viewers' names, doing stuff like giveaways and shoutouts, give all the appreciation back to them.

He would need to realize he needs to work on himself, no more excuses. While he is miles better in my fic, he still very obviously has depression, emotional issues, and relies too much on what others think of him, so him working on that and finding happiness in what he does have will do him wonders. Of course having the reader there every step of the way will also help him heal that much faster as he goes through it all.

I think that's everything! I did not wake up this morning expecting to write my first deep dive on Simon of all people lol but I'm glad I did, I relate a lot to parts of him, this is how I personally see him and how I wrote my fic based around all this, and I mean no harm if any of my thoughts conflict with anyone else's who checks this out 💗

Also as a bonus, I said it in the tags but the Hotel is real :D it's an ooooold restaurant in my small town directly across from where I live, and back when I was either in or just out of highschool they rebranded from the Hotel to what it is now, had to shut down and everything as they changed everything up inside and added in a bunch of new décor to fit the theme. Everyone calls it by the new name of course, but my family never really started, so whenever we talk about ordering from there we'll say something like, 'wanna get Hotel tonight?' I too have to correct myself whenever I accidentally say it around people who don't know about the old name lol

I always add in stuff from my personal life into my fics in some way, and since Simon wanted to open the bar I thought it'd be sweet if he and the reader bonded over something food related like I did with Joshua, instead of say meeting up for drinks instead and just getting afternoon drunk every Friday since it directly went with him wanting to be a bartender.

Maybe in the future I can do a drabble about a bar date before he and the reader get together, tie in that he also started to take lessons in preparation for applying for the bar he works for at the start of the fic, something sweet like that as they get closer 🥰

[shoutogepi]

Entertainment

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 5.3k

[ ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+!) ] angst, smut

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : Much to your chagrin, you realize you have feelings for your explosive coworker with benefits... (continuation of FYIJM/Orange Lambo)

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : ahaha whaaa i bet you had thought this series was abandoned! well, surprise update. i realized the other day that i hadn’t updated this series in a year oops so... have this haha. for those of you who foresaw the angst... great job hehe. also please beware this is unedited... and for that i apologize~

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : once again, reader is meant to be a fellow pro hero working at the same agency as Bakugou! so Y/H/N is meant to be read as “your hero name”.

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   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄳ark shadows stretch along the tiled floor of the office, cast by the bright moon hanging high and proud in the sky. The fumes from the bustling city are strong challengers to the magnificent orb of light, but they only succeed in swallowing the stars twinkling across the planes of the sky— for the moon beams through them and illuminates the tears glittering down your cheeks.

Bakugou’s hand is firm around your throat as he presses your form against the glass of the floor-length window, your nipples dragging along the chilled surface. You sob in pleasure as his hips dig into your ass, his cock plunging into you. As soon as your mouth opens, his palm slides to cup around your cheek, shoving two thick fingers between your teeth and pressing down against the back of your tongue as far as they can reach. His movements are rough and ravenous, and flush with desire.

Just how you like it.

And he knows it.

Your teeth clamp around the digits and Bakugou releases an angry moan, hooking the fingers around your teeth and throwing your head to the side. “Fuckin brat,” he snarls, his other arm tightening around your stomach to press your back snug against his sturdy chest. “You’re gonna pay for bein’ bad, slut.”

His hips begin to slap mercilessly into you, his hard cock smashing deep into your core, again and again. Your disobedience withers as you’re overwhelmed with pleasure, body melting from his touch to curl into the curves of his instruction. Spine arching and feet sliding apart to welcome him even deeper inside, Bakugou grins at how easily you're broken, his hand leaving your waist to clap against your ass.

A moan decorates the glass with frosted white as you shuffle forward from the spank. Somehow his name tumbles from your lips in a winded cry, and his teeth sink into your neck as his growl vibrates across your heated skin. Your pussy clenches down on his thick length, and he moans even louder into your neck. His palm plants tiny explosions onto your ass as he slaps you another time, only prospering further as you clamp onto him again. “Fuck, you’re tight for a slut, y’know that?” He groans, tongue flicking along the fresh indents of his teeth on your throat.

“If anyone’s the slut here—“ you gasp as his fingers finally move out of your mouth to snag around your neck again. He squeezes the sides of your throat, daring you to finish your sentence. But you’ve already started your counter, and you aren’t backing down now. “— it’s you.”

Even if you had managed to snag a final breath as you finish talking, it’s stolen from you when a feral Bakugou roars behind you, ripping you from the glass and pivoting to shove you across the surface of his tidy desk. You whimper as his cock drags along your slick walls, his balls beginning to slap into your clit mercilessly and sending tingles through your skeleton. You swear and he laughs harshly, both hands gripping onto your hips as he hammers you into the desk. “I’m the slut?” He parrots, giving your non-reddened ass cheek a hard blow with his explosive palm. “When you’re the one who’s begging for me to fuck this sloppy little cunt? Look how wet you are,” he comments, a thumb trailing over your ass to touch the excess slick at the base of his cock. “Shit,” he grumbles as he moves the digit over your ass, dipping into your puckered hole easily with plethoric lubrication.

You whine at the stimulation, his thumb diving into you and rubbing inside. “Katsuki, a-ahh,” you gasp as his hips begin to pick up the pace again, an expletive falling from your lips after a moan.

“Y’like that, hah? See, you can’t even prove your case, Princess,” he chuckles, rolling his hips to grind against your sensitive walls. The action makes a purr of pleasure rumble from your throat, back bowing to offer your ass to him even further, meeting his circling hips. Your submission only spurs him on, his hands pushing your hips back into his in perfect synchronization. “Whose pussy is this?”

The question falls from his lips without thought, and his vermillion eyes widen as he realizes his mistake. Yet what horrifies him is that you don’t pause— you don’t even stray from your perfect speed to match his hips, not even a second out of line— you moan, and reply to him eagerly, “Yours, Katsuki— yours!”

And even though terror floods past the dam he’d so carefully constructed around his heart, his body crumbles at your answer, the spring in his stomach compressing as he nearly cums right there and then. He wants to choke out that he’s close, but somehow he croaks out a command instead. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock— fuck...”

In your haze of lust you don’t notice how soft his voice has become. You let yourself topple over the edge, pussy squeezing him tight as your orgasm washes over your body. It’s sinfully encaptivating; a tiny morsel of what you can only imagine heaven must feel like. Bliss crashes through you like heavy tides on a rocky sea wall, drenching you completely in sweet, refreshing euphoria.

Bakugou’s tempo is swift and hard, but he relents after a few seconds with the way you milk him like a vise. He gasps as he nearly cums inside you, pulling out at the very last second and painting your back white with his load. He groans as his fist jerks around his cock, head thrown back in ecstasy as he empties his balls onto the canvas of your moonlit skin.

It’s quiet, save for the cocktail of ragged breaths huffing from the pair of you— coming down from your highs and minds clearing of the lust that so easily had dominated you just moments ago. Bakugou falls back into his desk chair, free hand opening a drawer to grab a package of wet wipes. He snags a sheet from the container, hissing as the cool wipe slides along his aching cock. A second towelette glides down the expanse of your spine as he cleanses you of his release, and you hum as he drags the other side of the  cloth between your thighs with care.

Cautiously you crawl off his desk, legs twitching as tiny, lingering shocks from your orgasm zip along your limbs. As the lascivious fog begins to clear, the air in the room becoming still and laden with perspiration from your passionate session, your stomach begins to turn. Your brain begins to work again, your heart seizing in your chest as you watch Bakugou tug up his pants. No part of you wants to follow his actions, and yet your body moves on its own, fingertips dragging your leotard up your legs. It’s his office you’re in this time— and he clearly wants you to leave if he’s dressing this quickly.

Bakugou doesn’t say a word, red eyes flicking over your hurried figure. He frowns, though that’s not unusual for him, and swallows back the lump in his throat. Would you stay if he asked you to? The answer surely must be no, and he growls at the thought of fucking this up— whatever this is— by asking stupid questions. What you said was in the heat of the moment, prompted by him himself; certainly you were just desperate to cum, desperate for your high. And yet he can’t stop himself from calling out to you just as you’re about to slip around the corner of his office door.

Bakugou looks just as surprised as you when your name slips from his lips. You stand there in the middle of the doorway, frozen with your doe eyes glued to him expectantly. He doesn’t know what to do— what to say— but somehow he manages to speak. “Grab your stuff and meet me in the garage in five.”

He wants to slap himself. Did he really say that?

You’re stunned, frozen to the spot and blinking at him blankly. Your lips part to respond to him, and yet nothing comes out. All other words failing you, the only thing you can think to say is—

“Okay!”

You blurt out like a buffoon, turning on your heel and making your escape down the hallway, away from the intensity of his gaze. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you try with all your might to squash down the giddy butterflies bursting in your stomach. Logically, it would be sound to assume he’s just taking you to your apartment. It’s late, and the city is dark and filled with all kinds of characters— not like you’re a fellow pro-hero who can protect yourself of anything.

You try your hardest not to let your imagination wander as you’re packing away a few folders from the safety of your office, but you just can’t help the warmth that rises to your cheeks. Perhaps he’s taking you somewhere else? But then again, at this hour, the only other place he could really be taking you is… his place.

No. No way that could be possible. Just— no! You shake your head, smoothing down the skin-tight material of your hero suit before grabbing your bag, jacket thrown over your shoulder as you rush to the elevator.

Bakugou is already in the garage, leaning against his sleek, orange sports-car with something akin to a grimace marring his handsome face. At the sight of you exiting the elevator doors, he pushes himself upright, bulging biceps uncrossing as he makes his way toward the driver’s side of the vehicle. “You sure take your time, Princess,” he comments, vermillion eyes twinkling with snarkiness. “No wonder you’re always playing catch-up on the agency leaderboard.”

Just like that, he’s back to being Bakugou.

“Playing mean to cover up being decent for once?” You retort as you swing the passenger door open, slinging your bag onto the ground before your legs follow, ass meeting the expensive leather seat.

All he gives you is a classic tch, in true Bakugou fashion, before the engine roars to life. You give him your address before he can ask, and he responds with a grunt before he shifts the vehicle into drive. The noise echoes off the cement walls of the garage, and the car’s purring continues as it exits the building. The lacquer shines glossy in the moonlight— the very same moonlight that had kissed your lewd face just ten minutes ago as the man beside you had ravaged you. The recollection makes your eyes move away from the blonde, instead opting to focus on the very interesting interior of the door.

The drive is quick and void of sound, save for the howl of the wind pouring in from the cracked windows. There’s no music, and no conversation, but still, you can’t help the content blooming in your chest. This is the first time that Bakugou has offered to drive you home. Well, besides that one incident that happened a few weeks ago when he took you to that park and… took you for a ride, so to speak. And in this very vehicle. The memory makes your heart race, your teeth taking your bottom lip prisoner.

In no time, you’re pulling up in front of your apartment complex, and your breath hitches as the car comes to a stop. The air is heavy and full of tension, and you can’t help but steal a glance over at Bakugou. The blonde is sitting rigid in his seat, brow furrowed and frown evident on his lips. His hands are wound tight around the steering wheel, and it takes a moment for him to face you directly.

Before you can make a word— a sound, even— Bakugou’s hand cups your face. His touch is gentle, patient as he brings your face to his. When your lips meet, a whimper crawls from your throat. His mouth is warm, movements cautious as his lips brush against yours. The sweet, smoky, caramel-like smell of him twists around your senses, and you lean into his touch, enamored.

It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced with him...

And it’s over immediately.

Bakugou moves backwards, crimson eyes wide and watchful, wary of your every move. Your lips are still parted, and you blink at him as you take in his retreating face, dazed. There’s a pregnant pause as you take each other in, your fingers going to brush your lips in shock. His eyes trail over your lips before he looks at you again. Maybe you’re just imagining it, but there’s something in his gaze that looks a lot like longing.

“Goodnight, Princess.”

His deep voice rumbles in his throat, and goosebumps rise along your skin as his saccharine choice of words sinks in. Your brow furrows as you soak it in, lips parted but no sound coming out.

The look you give him is inquisitive.

But Bakugou only sees it as accusatory.

His demeanor hardens by the second— the brief softness that had just been exposed fleeting fast as his arms cross over his chest. “You gonna sit there all night, dumbass?” He hisses, beautiful red orbs turning into slits.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, reaching out to him. It’s the only thing that your body allows you to say, shellshocked at the vulnerability you’d just seen from him— a revelation as impressive as if you had discovered a new species.

Bakugou only glares at your outstretched fingers, jamming his finger into the side of the door to unlock your own. “Just get out,” he orders. And somehow seeing you flinch at his words, watching as the hurt flashes on your face for just a moment— it spurs him on. “I got someplace to be already.”

With a tight chest, you push your door open, grabbing your bag and casting one last, furtive glance at the explosive man. But his eyes are only on the steering wheel, so you sigh and pick up your jacket from the seat. “Goodnight, Boom-Boy,” you murmur as you retreat from the vehicle, allowing the door to shut.

Little do you know, his gaze follows you until your figure disappears through the heavy doors of the foyer, leaving him alone to the torments of his self-loathing and frustration.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Unsurprisingly, you don’t have a great night of sleep. You toss and turn in your sheets, rewinding and replaying every second of interaction in his outrageously-expensive car. Overthinking every word, every pause, every look. All he had wished you was an honest “goodnight”, so why did it feel like there was so much more?

This had been the first time you’d caught a glimpse of what lies beneath the hard, spiny exterior of the man, and yet, it had been but a speck of dust in the wind. You’d seen it for one second. One exhilarating, butterfly-inducing second, and then— it was gone. Vanished. By the time you’d gotten your bearings, it seemed like the man’s shell was even spikier— more abrasive than even his explosive locks, and far more capable of hurting you.

And perhaps you were a little hurt— you mean to say, you are. But that makes you question if you’re just picking up signals that he’s not even aware he’s sending. You’re second-guessing yourself in every sense at this point. All over one kiss, and one “goodnight”.

But it wasn’t just a “goodnight”. It was a “goodnight, princess”. As if that would make such a difference.

A part of you, probably the majority, to be honest, is being rational about this. The two of you haven’t really spoken much about your… relationship, if you even dare to call it that. One evening it had just sort of… happened, and since then, it’s been happening, without much pause. For months, this has been going on. And it was great, at first. The two of you were in exactly the same boat: pro hero, no time for a committed relationship— nor a want for a committed relationship, pent-up and needing some kind of release… and oh, there’s also that white-hot tension that pulls the two of you together every time you see each other. That intensity, that passion, rivalry, and desire— it’s no wonder the pair of you ended up in this seemingly-eternal rendezvous. It’s clear what you both want, what you need— it’s sex.

It’s just sex.

But of course, there’s this small part of you— well, maybe it’s larger than you’d like to admit— that hopes he feels something… more. That he could possibly want you, for more than your body. When you think about it like that, it sounds stupid, like you’re some lovesick preteen who fantasizes about the captain of the football team of something. Reality isn’t really that far though— instead, you’re a fool of an adult who fantasizes about snuggling with her sworn rival-slash-coworker.

Acknowledging it like that sounds rather pathetic, you know... yet you just don’t have the strength in you to squash that ember of hope burning bright in your heart. You don’t want to watch it extinguish, you don’t want to lose that— lose him.

Yet at the same time, you know you can’t keep doing this. Your despicable feelings for the hero only seem to be growing by the day, and you need to cut this thing off sooner rather than later if he’s not on the same page as you.

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

Somehow you find yourself at the door of his office, the bright sunlight of the early afternoon streaming in through the hallway windows and warming your skin. It’s shut, as usual, and it gives you the opportunity to take a deep breath before your fingers find courage to curl into a fist, and tap against the hardwood.

“Come in.” His tone is gruff and curt as always, and you quickly fix your hair before you turn the handle, slipping inside the room and letting the door shut with a quiet click.

Bakugou is sitting behind his desk, an open bento-box and a half-filled form on his tablet laying before his hulking frame. Slitted vermillion eyes land on you, quickly morphing into a curious, cautious gaze.

“Y/N,” he greets, a blonde brow rising to land higher than usual on the tan skin of his forehead. The mask of his hero suit sits limply in the corner of his desk, his handsome face on display for you to drink in.

Your eyes flicker all over him, gliding along his broad shoulders, tracing the lines of the firm muscles on his chest. You can’t help but check him out, knowing fully well what’s underneath that tight suit of his. Bakugou smirks at you, taking his time to inspect you just the same.

“I need to talk to you,” you say, the words spilling from you without much of a thought.

After a tense pause, the hero stands, capping his lunch and making his way around his desk to sit on the front of it. He motions for you to come to him, and your feet move instinctively forward, following his command as you’d done so many times before.

As soon as you’re within arm’s reach, he pulls you to him, and stands you between his legs. Even sitting perched on his desk, he’s still taller than you, and he leans his nose into your neck as his hands glide along your spine. “Yeah?” he purrs, fingers splaying to drag against your skin through your thin hero suit. “And what do we need to talk about, Princess?” His lips flutter on the flushed skin of your neck, taking the hem between his teeth and pulling it back to reveal the darkened evidence of your latest session. Seeing his mark on you excites him, and the heat from his palms bleeds through your suit into your skin.

You can’t help but lean into his caress. His sharp cologne mixes with the honeyed, sugary scent of his skin and envelops you whole, pulling you in like a riptide lurking beneath an innocuous wave. A fragment of a moan escapes you when his mouth lands on the skin at the base of your neck, sucking gently and laving his tongue along your flesh.

“S’a little early to be foolin’ around,” he admonishes teasingly, voice deep and like thunder in your ears, an omen of the approaching storm. But your body wants it— craves the heavy deluge and the fear of scorching lightning that might just strike along your skin. “You like the thought of gettin’ caught, hah?” Bakugou chuckles lowly, teeth grazing your jaw. “Dirty little girl…”

Your palms glide down his thick arms, lamely stiff as your mind is screaming at you to stop— that this isn’t what you came for. Yet his touch makes you woozy, your judgement clouded as you choke on a wanton moan. “N-No, Katsuki,” you whine, fingers curling into his shirt to steady yourself.

“No?” He moves back, an ash-blonde brow rising in mock. “You’re not a dirty girl? Hmm, my memory’s pretty good, Princess, and I’m recalling some pretty irrefutable evidence that’d suggest otherwise.”

His hands slide down to cup your ass, thick fingers crawling between your thighs and prying at your flesh. He fingers over your covered slit, grin widening as you stiffen in his hold, a moan lingering in your mouth.

“No, I meant… I mean, I actually want to talk,” you sigh as you step backwards, away from his muscular body. You move far back enough for his hands to drop from your figure, your arms crossing over your chest defensively as you look toward the ground.

Bakugou seems confused by your refusal, but he clears his throat and adjusts his pants before he shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Okay…” he sits up slightly, still half-sitting on the ledge of his desk.

There’s an awkward, heavy silence between the two of you as he waits for you to talk. You know he’s waiting, but with every second that passes, the pressure in the room intensifies and makes it more and more daunting for you to speak.

“Do you like me?”

Bakugou’s expression stays guarded, the only indication that he heard you being a raised, unimpressed brow. “Hah?”

You swallow, even though your throat is drier than ever. He’s really going to make this harder than it has to be, isn’t he? But you’ve already prepared to deal with him, in all respects, here and now. “I mean— what is this to you?”

He seems a little flustered now, his eyes darting away from you as his cheeks pinken just a shade. Letting out a scoff, he growls, “I don’t know what you mean by… this.”

His playing dumb doesn’t appease you— in fact, it infuriates you. How dare he act like there’s nothing to discuss between you two?! You’ve indulged this man with vigorous extra-curricular activities for months at this point, and he has the audacity to think he can give you the go-around?

“Fuck off Bakugou, you know what I mean.”

“Oi oi oi,” he moves his big hands, patting air toward you condescendingly. “Let’s not get all upset in the middle of the day. We can talk about this later.”

Bakugou can see immediately that he’s said the wrong thing. Your face screws up and your inquisitive gaze becomes a glare, squaring your stance and your arms sliding uncrossed so you can park your hands on your hips.

“No, fuck that, we’re talking about this now!”

Seeing you pissed off must’ve pissed him off too, because now he stands upright and his menacing gaze burns down on you. “What’s there to talk about? I thought the whole point of it all was to not have to talk about jack shit.”

“Well this isn’t just jack shit!” you snarl, frustration building at how thick of a skull this man has. God, you admire whatever hell of a woman pushed his fatass head out of the womb. “We need to establish what this thing is so we can act like adults for fucking once in our lives! We work together, for fuck’s sake, we need to be responsible about this!”

“Hah?” Bakugou seems more agitated than before, his lip curling as he brandishes his signature sneer. “We’re fucking around, shitty woman, isn’t that the most adult activity we can do?” As if he hasn’t lit your fuse enough, he throws up some patronizing finger quotes when he emphasizes the word.

“So that’s what we’re doing, Bakugou? For months, we’ve just been,” you squint at him, only serving to amplify your unrelenting glare as you throw some aggressive finger quotes back at the man in front of you, “fucking around? Making eyes at each other across the conference table, and spending our nights together, just ‘cuz?”

Bakugou growls in irritation, swiping a large hand over his face from top to bottom as he hisses out profanities. He mutters something under his breath, clearly not wanting to deal with the conversation you’re forcing on him right now.

After waiting for his response for a moment but only receiving radio silence, you continue. “I’m a person, Bakugou, and in case you haven’t noticed, so are you! You can’t just ignore your feelings and act like no one and nothing matters to you!”

“Feelings?!” he shouts with contempt burning in his scarlet eyes, as if some atrocious, vile flavor gushes onto his tongue merely from uttering the word. “Oi, the fuck do you get off talking about my feelings? You don’t know shit about me, Y/H/N.”

His use of your professional hero name makes you bristle in fury, anger flaring and rationality fleeting. Everything’s escalating too fast— this isn’t the way you wanted this conversation to go. Your heart leaping into your throat, you muster the courage to change the tides, to tell him how much you want him. “Fuck you Katsuki, I know you have feelings for me! Because I—”

“I don’t have fuckin’ feelings for you!”

An arrow to the heart— the first sign of damage appears on the thumping muscle in your chest. But still, you continue, too stubborn to back down at this point. “Oh really, Boom-Boy? Then why the fuck are you still here, stuck in this godforsaken tryst with me? What am I to you, huh?”

Your stupid nickname for him makes his fists clench, steam nearly visibly blowing from his ears. “I’m not fuckin’ stuck! You— You’re just—” he buffers, rage still broiling in his gaze as he tries to come up with the most fitting word. But he doesn’t have much time— you’re glaring him down with your hands on your hips, cornering him against his desk and he yells out the first word that comes to mind.

“— entertainment.”

…

The tension in the air thickens noticeably, and you put all your effort into forcing your face not to reveal the hurt that pours into your bones. So this is what it feels like to put your heart on your sleeve… it fucking sucks.

Bakugou seems just as surprised as you are, maybe even more— his jaw hangs open cartoonishly and those red eyes are fixed on you, no longer harsh slits but wide, round orbs.

No matter how hard you try not to show your true emotions, he can clearly see that his words have stung you. The silence that fills the growing void between you two is deafening, weighing down his body as if he’s drowning in his immediate regret. But he doesn’t say anything, he can’t— you’d poked and prodded the sleeping bear of his ego and what he’d said couldn’t just be brushed under the rug and overlooked.

Entertainment. You’re nothing more than that to him. Why did you ever think you could penetrate through the booby-trapped walls around this man’s heart? Of course he didn’t want you for anything other than your body. Of course he didn’t.

For that one moment, you let him see it. You don’t hide the pain that washes over you, and you look him straight in the eye.

Bakugou stifles, throat tightening as he examines your crushed expression. He feels like he’s trapped, a fly that’s landed on a sticky trap that he can’t escape, a sinking feeling weighing down his chest, screaming at him to do something— say something— anything to mitigate the wound he’d just blasted onto your heart. “Y/N…”

And just like that your defenses come back online. He watches as you square yourself off, the soft vulnerability you’d revealed disappearing as your eyes became vacant of emotion. If anything, it looks like understanding, and it squeezes Bakugou’s chest like you’ve pulled a string tight around his lungs.

“Okay,” you murmur, your voice calm and low.

Bakugou is frozen, body unwilling to suck it up and take back the word even though his heart is so desperately screaming at him to do so. But he just can’t, he can’t take it back because then he’d have to  admit it was a lie he only threw out in an attempt to save his own feelings from getting hurt. If only he knew that causing your pain would hurt a thousand times more.

You clear your throat awkwardly, taking a step back from him. Gaze dropping to the floor, your arms come out to cross atop your chest, a makeshift shield for your battered resolve. “I don’t think we should do this anymore,” you whisper, but Bakugou hears it clear as day. He can’t breathe— he’s stuck to his spot as if that damn Icyhot bastard had frozen him himself. “I just… I've worked too hard for my career to be derailed by... whatever this was…”

Somehow Bakugou nods, even though he doesn’t want to. His body moves on its own, on autopilot, as his own arms cross over his chest, and he sits back down on top of his desk. He’s still looking at you, chest heavy with bated breath.

“If the public were to find out about us fucking around, that would become my reputation as a hero, and… I just— I can’t, Katsuki.”

Your voice trembles as you whisper his name, and Bakugou’s heart feels like it’s being stabbed over and over again.

“From now on, we’re just Ground Zero and Y/H/N, okay? Back to normal…” you smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Not at all.

Bakugou finally gets some control of his body, lips parting as he desperately searches for the right words that could somehow reverse this mess. All that comes out is a rough “Fine.” He cringes, frustration with himself building now more than ever. What’s wrong with him? That’s the opposite of what he wants, why can’t he say anything?!

You avert your eyes once more, turning to leave. Halfway through the door, you look back at him and pause. “See you around, Boom-Boy,” you breathe, the click of the door following, and leaving Bakugou to sink into his own self-loathing and regret.

    ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

AWAA so reader and blasty have finally realized their feelings for one another... unfortunately this is a bakugou fic so of course he sucks at communication. i’m sorry if he’s ooc, as i said in my notes i havent written for him in a year lmao RIP. anyways i intend to make a fourth and final part with the resolution sooo i hope that i will have enough motivation to make that happen soon! 

as always please let me know if you enjoyed! <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[cinnaminsvga]

🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: RIP Jungkook... When will he catch a break, I wonder? Who is Hoseok to him anyway? Much to think about... Also I’m just gonna say this, but Jungkook is literally the most unreliable narrator I’ve ever had to write, so take that in mind when you read this. Enjoy! || W.C. 2K

prev // part 14 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

It takes another 10 minutes or so until the maintenance guy manages to rescue both Jungkook and Namjoon out of the elevator. Luckily, the elevator didn’t stop midway between floors so they didn’t have to crawl or climb out, so getting out is a quick and easy ordeal once the doors are opened. Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief, but that moment of calm is short-lived when he hears Namjoon clear his throat behind him.

“Umm… Jungkook-ssi, right?” Namjoon addresses him by his name for the first time. Jungkook jumps up in surprise, though he should have known that you would have ratted him out when you found out he was intentionally ignoring the taller boy.

“I… Yeah. And you’re Namjoon,” Jungkook doesn’t even bother tacking on the question mark at the end, too worn out mentally to bother pretending like he’d only suddenly realized. He rubs the back of his neck, thankful that he’s turned away from Namjoon so that he doesn’t see the flash of annoyance across his face.

Without another word, Jungkook begins climbing the last two flights of stairs to reach your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to see if Namjoon follows, though he does hear the extra pair of footsteps close by.

When they file into your shared home, the awkward tension magnifies tenfold. While Namjoon and Jungkook had been gone, it seems that Hoseok has already made himself comfortable, laughing jovially at something you said as he helps you bring the last remaining pairs of cutlery to the table. Jungkook looks over at the new visitor from the corner of his eye and notices the way Hoseok has his gaze locked fervently on you as you fussed over everyone’s seating arrangements.

“Oh, Jungkook! Namjoon!” You shove Yoongi’s plate towards him the moment you hear the door open, sprinting over to the two of them. Your hair is in complete disarray, slightly frizzy in places even after you had painstakingly taken an hour this morning trying to look presentable. Even so, Jungkook can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster when you envelop him in a tight hug, as you’ve always looked cute to him no matter what. When he wraps his arms around you to return the embrace, he feels you lower your lips near his ears. “You’re in big fucking trouble, mister. We’re talking after all of this is over,” you whisper darkly. He gulps audibly when you separate, the smile on your face is eerily present.

Thankfully, you don’t hug Namjoon as well, though an apology is out of your mouth before Jungkook can distract you. “Namjoon, I’m so sorry again. I wish I had warned you about the elevator sooner,” you pout, but Namjoon is quick to waive your concerns.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He smiles warmly, his dimples on full display. You clear your throat, staring wide-eyed at him, no doubt dumbstruck by his handsome features. Jungkook tries to relax the tick in his jaw, but to no avail. Instead, he marches past the two blushing fools, eager to get away.

Since your apartment is quite small, you set most of the food onto the coffee table, with everyone either sitting on the floor or on the couch. Jungkook is quick to take a seat next to you on the couch, but that also forces him to have Seokjin on his other side. The elder winks salaciously at him, which Jungkook pointedly ignores.

Namjoon and Hoseok take a tentative seat on the other side of the coffee table. Namjoon’s gangly legs make it difficult for him to fold himself in properly, so you offer to switch places with him instead, much to Jungkook’s dread. Namjoon glances at him for a moment before hesitantly accepting your offer, squishing himself on Jungkook’s right side on their small, sunken couch. He can feel rather than hear Seokjin’s attempts to mask his nefarious giggles.

You seat yourself beside Hoseok, who smiles widely back at you. “Sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Y/N! I’ve heard all about you from Namjoon.”

“Really? Well, I hope it’s only been good things,” he says. “To be honest, I don’t think I’d see you again after that time in––“

“I’m going to fucking start eating now!” Jungkook interrupts, stabbing his chopsticks into the mountain of pork that you had prepared. Somewhere in Busan, he’s sure his mother is cringing at his terrible manners.

For a moment, you seem startled by his sudden proclamation, but you’re quick to shake it off. “Alright everyone! Please dig in,” you say, clapping your hands with a large grin on your face. Jimin is the first to dive into the food, popping a piece of kimbap into his mouth and moaning loudly in satisfaction.

“Y/N, I don’t know what type of crack you put into your food, but MAN this is delicious,” he says, already piling up his plate with anything he can get his hands on. Yoongi is slightly more reserved when he takes a prawn and chews it softly, nodding in agreement with Jimin’s statement.

“Thank you for this meal, Y/N. You must have worked really hard,” Namjoon says, reaching over for some food as well. Jungkook watches as he nearly bumps the plate of ssam off the edge of the table. “Oh, whoops.”

Hoseok laughs loudly, the sudden noise surprising everyone around him. He doesn’t look all that embarrassed, however. “I’ll have to apologize for Joon in advance. He’s a bit of a clumsy guy.” He smiles kindly at Y/N. “You’re gonna have to get used to that eventually, I suppose.”

Jungkook notices the soft blush rising up your neck. His grip on his chopsticks tightens as he takes a particularly rough bite out of his food. “I, um, suppose I will,” you laugh shyly, rubbing the back of your neck while keeping your gaze off Namjoon. You accidentally make eye contact with Jungkook instead, who didn’t have enough time to erase the annoyance out of his expression. You flinch slightly, before softening your voice in that tone you use whenever Jungkook felt a little stressed out. “Jungkook? Are you okay? Is the meat too tough or something?”

Seokjin snorts beside him, nearly choking as he was in the middle of taking a big swig of water. Jungkook hates that he knows that the bastard is enjoying this way too much. Jungkook’s frustration is easy for anyone to see, with only you being left unaware as to why he was so agitated. Your cluelessness only adds to his bubbling anger. “Yeah, Jungkook. Are you alright? Bet you wished there were less people at the table, huh?”

Jungkook is quick to stomp on his foot, causing the prick to yelp in pain. He’s too busy pinching Seokjin in the tit that he misses the way Namjoon’s face falls, dejectedly looking at his food with a deep furrow in his brow.

“Oh? Are you becoming self-aware? Maybe you should take a page out of your book and leave before I kick you out myself,” you huff, scowling at Seokjin. You must have misinterpreted his little side comment, though Jungkook isn’t sure if he should be thankful for that or not. You turn to Taehyung, who has been mysteriously quiet this entire time. “And you. I know I said you could bring a friend over, but I didn’t expect you to bring this soggy testicle!”

Taehyung just shrugs, his attention focused on his phone. “What?” He doesn’t look up, his fingers furiously occupied with something else. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. Won’t do it again.” When he finishes his text, Seokjin’s phone dings soon right after. Jungkook’s eyes narrow suspiciously at the two, but neither of them seems to care.

You’re beginning to look flustered, mouth opening and closing as you figure out a way to salvage this mess of a dinner. If Jungkook had been slightly less preoccupied with his own swirling thoughts, he might have thought to comfort you or say something to alleviate the tension. Instead, he has his head bowed in shame, the bitter taste in his mouth unwilling to leave until the boy to his right decides to leave first.

“Anyway,” Yoongi clears his throat, causing Jimin to jump beside him. Normally, Yoongi never spoke all that often when they got together, usually content with eating and listening to the younger ones joke around. He isn’t looking at Jungkook, but he knows that Yoongi must have read his mind. He waves his chopsticks around vaguely at Namjoon. “You. You like woodworking, right?”

Startled from being directly addressed, Namjoon’s posture straightens slightly at the mention of his favorite activity. “Y-yes. It’s a bit of a side hobby that I do when I’m not busy with school or work. I’m… not very good. Just a novice, really.” He laughs, nervously propping his glasses up his nose until they’re nearly up to his forehead.

“Oh, hush! Namjoon is fantastic! I got him to make little wooden figurines to decorate the cafe over the summer, isn’t that right?” Seokjin interjects, reaching over Jungkook to slap Namjoon on the back.

“That’s right! Namjoon, I’ve seen your photos on Instagram! You’re definitely good at what you do,” you say, eyes sparkling with amazement. Namjoon coughs shyly into his hand, but it doesn’t hide the blush painting his cheeks.

Jungkook feels his blood pressure boiling, but he grits his teeth instead. “Interesting stuff,” he murmurs sarcastically, soft enough that only you wouldn’t hear. He senses Namjoon sagging back into his seat, but he doesn’t even feel remotely guilty that he had heard him. Even without looking up, he knows that Yoongi is sending him a warning look in response.

“Namjoon, that’s really cool. I’m an interior design major, so I’d love to see what you might think about the wood pieces I’m thinking of purchasing for an upcoming exhibit,” Yoongi says, trying to salvage the situation. Jungkook glares at him, but the elder doesn’t back down. Instead, he quirks a brow up, as if challenging him to say something.

Jimin gasps, a few bits of rice falling out of his mouth and into the plate of ssamjang. “That’s right! Yoongi, didn’t you say you needed something interesting as a center piece for the dining table? Maybe Namjoon can help you with that!”

Namjoon flushes, waving his hands and shaking his head fervently. “Ah, no! I don’t think I can help you with that. I’m sure you can ask plenty of other professionals who are more capable than I am.”

“No, Namjoon. You should help them,” Hoseok quips. He’s got a pout on his face, causing his cheeks to bunch up cutely. Like a fucked up squirrel, Jungkook thinks petulantly, hating how childish he was being but unable to stop. He steals a look at you to see that you’re staring at Hoseok, too. Hoseok pumps his fist up, “Namjoon’s great! He’s just being humble, that’s all.”

“I’ll be sure to ask you for help then, Namjoon.” Yoongi smiles wide, his pink gums appearing for the first time that night. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel good, like being praised without words. Emboldened by Yoongi’s kindness, Namjoon smiles back, his previously dejection slowly washing away.

Jungkook feels betrayed. He can’t stand sitting in this room anymore, not when all his friends, most especially you, were being so buddy-buddy with this new unwelcome addition to your party. He puts down his chopsticks onto his dish, standing up and making his way over to the kitchen sink.

“Kook? What’s wrong?” You stand up as well, walking towards him. When you reach out to touch his shoulder, he accidentally slaps your hand away on instinct, head fuzzy with too many thoughts. You gasp, cradling your hand to your chest even though he hadn’t hit you that hard. You were mostly shocked, not used to seeing Jungkook so… touchy, and for seemingly no apparent reason. If only you knew, he thinks to himself.

“I have to go. Stomach ache,” is all he says before he’s grabbing his coat from the rack and shoving on his boots. He grabs his car keys, unwilling to turn around to see the expressions on all your faces. “I’m heading to the pharmacy. See you.” He slams the door shut behind him, leaving you more confused and hurt than ever before.

“Well, this sucks, huh?” Seokjin nudges Taehyung with his foot. Taehyung, to his credit, jabs Seokjin straight in the balls.

“Back to the drawing board,” he sighs to himself, rubbing his temples as the elder groans obscenities back at him. This is going to be harder than he thought.

[kotsuvi]

hq at the outdoor pool [hc]

a/n: i did this instead of posting “a month of sundays” and honestly i’m not even mad about it.

karasuno:

- asahi: definitely wears a speedo. that’s all.

- daichi: wears bright orange boardshorts. slathers on sunscreen before, during, and after being in the pool. literally will make suga throw him the bottle while he’s in the water. like this man does not want to burn. occasionally yells at hinata, kageyama and bokuto for being too loud but then goes and does a  cannonball into a group of kids. 

- suga: totally the type to hang around the shallow end and splash around with the kids. he’d just wade around and get a kick out of them and all of the mom’s would fall for him within the first twenty minutes. probably brings neatly sliced carrots for a snack. wears a hat to avoid burning his scalp. 

- nishinoya: the kid that pretends to drown in hopes of getting the hot lifeguard to give him CPR. the first time it actually worked, but it totally backfired the second time. some rando old man “saved” him instead but noya got right out of there before things escalated. he didn’t go back to the pool for the rest of the summer after that. threw up in the pool once too. they had to drain it and it was closed for a week. 

- tanaka: always screaming. slips on the pool deck and gets yelled at for running. this man will literally dive into the water from anywhere. once he nearly decapitated a kid because he dove in the deep end without looking. he’s about one more annoying shriek away being banned from the place. 

- tsukishima: mans DEFO brings goggles to every pool. definitely. absolutely. hinata thought they were a joke and laughed at him for a solid twenty seconds before tsukki threatened to drown him. he does laps around the perimeter of the pool. purposely splashes water in little kids faces. yells at tadashi for swimming too close.

- tadashi: follow tsukki around the whole time. honestly not a very strong swimmer. literally almost drowned once but he doesn’t like to bring it up. he’s got checkered swim shorts. wears one of those white swim shirts that kinda looks like a wetsuit. kid always has goosebumps too, even if the sun is blazing. like teeth chattering. he does NOT like the water but has serious FOMO so he goes in anyways. 

- hinata: dear god. him and kageyama hold competitions for who can make the biggest splash. they jump in front the diving board, the slide, the side of the deck; anything to try and create some waves. really tried to get asahi to throw him into the air. he thought it would be super sick and create this mega splash but he just ended up looking like a toddler being tossed by a middle-aged man. it was extremely embarrassing. boy probably wears neon boardshorts and has matching flip-flops. 

- kageyama: he almost always wins biggest splash. he also threatens to throw small children off the diving board if they don’t jump fast enough. mans has zero patience with other people, but when it’s his turn he chickens out and then makes some excuse as to why he couldn’t do it. “oh, i got a headache”, “there were too many people in the line, it would’ve taken forever”. he also steals things from the lost and found outside the change rooms; mostly water bottles. 

aobajoshai:

- oikawa: comes extremely prepared. like very. towels and sunscreen and snacks and lots of drinks. only for himself tho; sharing is not caring. he just dips his toes in the water, maybe stands on the steps that lead into the pool, then he gets out and tans for the rest of the time. has boardshorts with flamingos on them. will occasionally splash water on his chest because he thinks it’s ~hot~. it kinda is.

- iwaizumi: he says he doesn’t even like the pool, but this man goes HARD in diving competitions. yanno those little toys that you throw in the deep end and they sink and then you have to go and get them? well yeah, he’s addicted to those. he’s so competitive about it too. made a kid cry once. when he’s not in the water he’s helping tendou fill up bottles to dump on kuroo and oikawa. he says there’s nothing to do at the pool, but he literally is busy the whole time. barks at you to shut up if you comment on the fact. 

- kindaichi: brings a giant green floaty and just drifts around the pool. literally had a nap on it once and burnt his body so bad that he couldn’t sit down for a week without excruciating pain. 

- kyoutani: tries to hold his breath for way longer than humanly possible. passed out once. starts a fight in the change rooms over who gets to use the last shower. threw shampoo in oikawa’s eyes once and temporarily blinded him. pretty sure all the staff is scared of him, and honestly they should be. this man will literally kill you. 

nekoma:

- kuroo: isn’t just acting like the lifeguard, he literally is the lifeguard. kidding, but he wishes he was. literally tests the chlorine levels of the water every time he goes there. him and kenma mostly just hang around the edge and talk. he tells off bokuto and tanaka for nearly beheading kids, but thinks it’s funny. he won’t want to get his hair wet, but tendou will absolutely take every opportunity that he can to dunk that man. 

- kenma: get a feeling that this boy does not like the pool. it’s too loud for him, and the screaming kids (+ tanaka) get on his nerves. he just sits with kuroo and prays that noya will throw up in the water again and then it’ll be drained. he only went because hinata pleaded him to, but the boy ditched him for kags halfway through. 

- yaku: literally spends the whole time bullying lev. told tall boy™ that if he went under the water for too long it would absorb through his ears and his lungs would fill up and he would drown. to everyone else he’s very caring. literally saved a kid from drowning once. stopped a fight between a jackass and a girl that was insecure about her braces. literally soft but not when it comes to lev

- lev: TERRIFIED. thanks to yaku he’s literally scared to go in the water for more than five minutes. mans sits on the edge and dangles his feet over the side. hates when his fingers and toes go all pruny. he likes to go on the pool slide though. constantly slips in the change rooms when showering and confuses the shampoo with soap. 

fukurodani:

-bokuto: this man goes WILD. literally lives at the pool when it’s hot. the king of doing tricks off the diving board. seriously. never ever leaves that board. he’ll push kids over to get to the top first. literally never ever stops shouting. he’s gotten so good at tricks that people will literally pay him to try new things. the lifeguards like to bet on whether or not he’ll make it. ALWAYS has a different pair of boardshorts??? this man has so many clothes for some reason. he also brings a different towel every time. oikawa is jealous but he won’t admit it.

- akaashi: DOES NOT SWIM. can do it but chooses not to. mans would rather just sit in the shade and read a good book. bokuto forces him to film shit and post it all over his socials. the kind of guy that looks mysterious and causes girls to giggle and admire from afar because they think he’s a heartbreaker. 

shiratorizawa:

- ushijima: wears shorts that are way too fucking tight for him. snatches the hot lifeguard away from noya without even knowing it. this man will literally just sit at the bottom of the pool for as long as he can. like takes a huge breath and then sinks to the bottom. he’ll just sit there. like you’ll be swimming and look down and oh! there he is, just sitting criss-cross at the bottom of the fucking swimming pool. tanaka dared hinata to lay beside him, but hinata almost drowned before he even got seated cuz the poor boy couldn’t figure out how to stop floating up to the surface. 

- tendou: he swims with his eyes open like DRILLING into you underwater. tsukki was doing his laps once and tendou was just there like watching. he’s the kinda guy to pull the filters out of the side of the pool and examine what’s inside (literally just bugs and leaves and some plastic cap). drinks the pool water. runs on the deck as well. like sprints. spends most of his time bothering everyone else and freaking out other swimmers. doesn’t shower before getting in the water and doesn’t shower afterwards. probably doesn’t shower period.

- goshiki: always doing tricks. handstands?? you got it. a cartwheel into the water? yep. tried to backflip off of bokuto’s shoulders and got screamed at by the staff? yes yes yes. did a flip off the diving board and bellyflopped so bad that his entire body was red for two weeks? mhm. he always needs an audience though, even if it’s just a few 10 year old kids. his trunks fell down once when he was getting out of the water.

other:

- aone: kids are scared of him. he always looks like he wants to drown somebody, and there was a rumour that he actually did. of course he didn’t. mans doesn’t even really know how to swim. he just paddles around in the shallow end. wishes he was wearing water wings.

- terushima: goes to the pool for the snacks and drinks??? “don’t know, the food just hits different here,” is always his answer. he brings his own speaker and literally starts a disco between the lawn chairs. the staff don’t like him at all, but he buys so much fucking food that literally all their income is from that man. he rarely actually goes in the water. stole someone’s flip-flops once and ended up getting warts.

- atsumu: pulls some random girl up on his shoulders for a chicken fight. went through two phones in three weeks because he takes it in the water with him??? literally like on his phone while swimming. idk, mans just gotta stay updated on the twitter tea. 100% pees in the pool and blames it on kageyama.

- sakusa: does not go to the public pool. ever.

[wolf-555-writer]

Heating Up Part 3

Still owed you guys this one. Sorry it took, like, a little while. Hope you enjoy though! :) 

Read part 1; part 2

Caitlin Snow/Killer Frost x Meta Reader

Summary: Reader gets captured. Will you be able to survive and free yourself? While also searching for the others and trying to escape?

Word Count: 2,717

It's cold all around. Curled up, eyes pinched shut and arms covering your head defensively. You prepare yourself for impact. The impact of sharp, icy air, so cold it instantly freezes everything it touches. Generated by one Killer Frost. Normally, it wouldn't be such a problem. But you're not able to control your 'heat’ powers right now. Is it due to all the adrenaline making you shaky? Or because you're frightened as hell? Or because you let your guard down around KF, thinking you noticed something blossoming between you two?

You don't know. It doesn't matter what the exact reason is anyway, considering in a couple of seconds it will all be over...

Yet... Nothing happens. Did she miss?

“What the hell are you doing?! Let's go!”, you perceive, slowly opening your eyelids and removing your arms away from your face. Frost has grabbed you and pulls you with her. Still able to peak over your shoulder, you notice a guy knocked out cold on the dirty ground. A nasty scar on his face and one fake eye. So, she didn't aim at you but at that guy? 

“Wait- What just happened?! Who was that?”, you exclaim in total confusion as KF drags you with her, sensing her cold hand on your arm through your jacket. I’ve never been so unfocused before. You didn't even hear the guy approaching, having absolutely no clue what just went down. 

Moving towards a better lit hallway, Frost starts to explain that they (Caitlin and herself) started to work for someone real shady after leaving Central City. “It got out of hand and Caitlin reached out to ask for help. I told her I could handle it on my own, but Caitlin wouldn’t listen. And now look where it got us…”. She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Barry and Cisco both captured by our employer. Idiots”. You look at her hand and back to her. “Um… Frost, you're still, like, holding me”.

She scoffs, “I know that!”, and quickly lets go. She continues: “First we have to free Barry and Cisco. Unfortunately. Got it?”

“Yes, loud and clear”. This is not the Killer Frost you briefly met in the cold, misty woods months ago. The Killer Frost that had attacked her ‘friends’ with real rage and aggression. Angry at them and angry at the entire world around her.

She has changed.  

“And what was that thing Caitlin wanted to ask me?”, you remember, returning to the unanswered question from before the sudden ice blast. Maybe there’s a reason Caitlin didn’t ask for my help earlier at STAR Labs. Clearly made visible by the event that had just happened. You’d only be a burden. Besides, why would she choose you over The Flash anyway?

“Oh, that. She first wanted to ask for your help only. But Caity was embarrassed about the shit mess we got ourselves into”. These words make you feel happy but also slightly disappointed. She obviously could have asked you. Out of everybody, you were the last person to judge her.

“You should know, she kind of likes y-”, Frost interrupts herself. “Shhh, quiet”, she snaps at you. But… you weren't even talking? 

Both hide behind a large crate now that two suspicious men are approaching. “Can you use your powers?”, KF whispers at you, observing the guys. “No, not from this distance. But I can still fight them you know”. “I bet you can”, she answers while scanning your figure briefly.

Having decided each would take out one, Frost dives from behind the crates and attacks. You do the same and swiftly jump on the other. Creating enough momentum, you throw him over your shoulder and finish up with a high-speed elbow in his face, sending him to sleep for a nice couple of hours. Standing up again, you see KF nod at you with a grin on her face. “Impressive, (Y/N)”

Other thugs follow from the middle entrance. But this time with guns. Killer Frost pushes you away in time, both her hands placed on your chest firmly. The bullets are fired at the spot you were standing seconds when Frost harshly pins you to the wall. Her cold body is pressed against your warm one due the force she used. Warmer than usual… You heat up as her blue lips are close to your red ones. Noticing a teasing look starting to appear on KF's face when she bites her lip. Both staring into each other's eyes and Frost slowly leans in. Then you snap out of it. She has already pulled back and is currently attacking the men with weapons that are not freeze-proof, just as the men. Lucky for Killer Frost.

She knocks them out with a powerful cold blast. Too easy. And finishes by sending a daring wink your way. Impressed by the work she just delivered, Frost gives herself an imaginary pat on the back while eyeing that cute firefighter who’s with her. Who’s actually looking back at her with a rather strange expression...

“Watch out!”, you yell, sprinting towards a distracted Killer Frost, “Behind you!”. But you’re too late. Someone ambushed her. KF is now on the ground and you throw yourself in front of the guy. Anger fueling your body, you knock him out with a combo of three powerful punches and his body hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Rushing towards Frost and you take her in your arms. Her hair slowly turns into hazel brown, lips from blue to red, yet her eyes remain closed. She’s turning back into Caitlin. Set in motion by you. 

“No… Not now…”, you grunt. Your powers are unwillingly emerging again. Great timing. 

Suddenly an electrifying pain shoots through your body, originating from the back of your head. You instantly lose consciousness and black out, still holding Caitlin tight.

///

Waking up with a pounding in your head as if a hammer is hitting the inside of your skull. You cautiously open your eyes and vaguely see the silhouette of a woman. Caitlin. Her beautiful brown eyes staring at you... with a pretty concerned look. Why?

“Can you sit upright?”, she asks with an anxious voice. Carefully doing what Caitlin says, you notice that she’s wearing power dampening cuffs. Yet, you are not. They don't know your powers? Gotta admit you're not as obvious as Barry or Cisco. Perks of not having a superhero-suit, you guess. Your hands are tied though. Turning your head around to take in the surroundings that is an old, dark holding-cell. A hundred percent certain you’re still in the same building as earlier, because the smell is definitely the same.

“How are you feeling?”, Caitlin continues, now next to you with one hand on your shoulder. “I-I don’t know, maybe... a little light-headed?”. Wait- you remember. You got struck from behind with an awfully hard object. Probably got a head wound or something, hence the killer headache. You try to reach the back of your head with bound hands to inspect the injury. Man… your head is really pounding like crazy. Not surprised when you view your hands only to discover they’ve turned red. Blood.

Great. This really is the last thing you need above all the other mistakes of today...

Sensing you’re slipping away, you hear Caitlin again. “(Y/N)! Stay awake, we have to get out of here!”, she says, slightly panicking. 

“I-I… yeah, well, what do you want me to do?”, you return a bit slurring, staring into Caitlins worrisome eyes.

“Come on, let me help you up”. Weakly, you put your tied arms around Caitlin so she can support you. Both hobble toward the metal bars that confine you from leaving.

“I was thinking, maybe you could heat up the metal, so that it becomes deformable?”, she suggests with a thoughtful, calm tone.

“I-I can try”. You hesitate. Are you able to use your powers? Especially now that you’re wounded? It’s already hard to fully concentrate on a task, let alone melting a rigid material like metal. You slowly grab the bars, clenching them tight, trying to focus. Eyes closed, you can feel the iron in the palms of your hands. Heat up. 

Just heat up!

Nothing happens. The metal remains cold and inflexible. Not even remotely able to bend it in the current state. It’s not working. You open your eyes and turn to Caitlin. “It- it’s… nothing…”, stuttering as you lose all hope. You already messed everything else up today, so why did you expect this would even work? It’s useless. You’re useless. Now I understand why Caitlin didn’t ask for my help…

“No, don’t give up”. A warm hand is placed on your shoulder, squeezing you lightly. “You can do this (Y/N). I know you can”, words spoken with the most tender voice you’ve ever heard. “I believe in you”, Caitlin eases, “I trust you”. You nod slightly, feeling every word she just said when an intense warmth ripples through your body. You close your eyes once again. Inhaling deeply and focusing on the rusted metal in front of you. Exhale. Concentrating on the infinitely many iron molecules packed inside the rods. Inhale again. Blocking everything else around. And exhale. You sense the structure changing. Slowly. Softening. Shifting. And moving.  

The metal is heating up, finally, and bent into a shape just wide enough for a person to fit through. But it cost a lot of effort, considering you're badly wounded. You almost fainted, but Caitlin managed to catch you before you dropped down. Quickly escaping, you don’t even notice you’re moving and start to slip away again. Feeling a wave of nauseousness hitting you, probably also having a concussion caused by the forceful blow on your head. But you have to keep holding on, as Caitlin keeps repeating.

With blurry sight you make out a person in the distance who’s wearing a bright red suit. And wearing power dampening cuffs. It’s Barry, with next to him Cisco, also cuffed. 

“Caitlin!”, you hear them shout in unison, now feeling loss of contact with the woman supporting you. Carefully placing you in front of the cell where Barry and Cisco are held captive, she kneels down in front of you. You sense her soft hand touching your cheek.

“Try to keep your eyes open for me”, she whispers at you, “okay?”. Skin feeling cold again now that she let go. In fact, your whole body starts to feel cold. You hear Cisco instructing Caitlin to grab something, but his exact words remain a mystery to you. Maybe he knows how to take off the high-tech cuffs. Or at least you’re hoping he knows how to unlock those, because you’re in no state of freeing them too, which leaves the team trapped inside this building still. Or worse... 

“We have to get out of here! Stay with me (Y/N)”. You faintly perceive Caitlin’s words, along with the sound of several heavy footsteps approaching. But you’re slipping away again and your eyelids become heavy. Maybe... just close my eyes for a few secon-

Losing consciousness, you’re not able to hear the angry cursing and shouting along with the distressed voices of your friends anymore.

///

A headache. The worst you have ever had. Ugh, my head feels as if it's been used as a basketball... Hold on, you have to wake up. Now. You’re still in danger, as are Barry, Cisco and Caitlin. You open your eyes but shut them again, caused by the way too intense light inside… Wait-

STAR Labs?

Opening your eyes with more caution now, you catch the silhouette of Caitlin, back turned towards you, busy with some medical equipment on a steel table placed against the wall. You want to sit upright, yet all that happens is an agonizing groan escaping your mouth.

“Easy, easy”. Alerted by the discomforting sound behind her, Caitlin promptly moves to the bedside to stop you. “You have a bad concussion”. You anxiously reach for your head and feel it's bandaged up. “Relax, (Y/N). We’re safe now, alright?”, Caitlin eases. As a reaction to your disoriented state, she takes your hands in a soft grip to put them down again. “And I also took care of the wound on the back of your head. You’re gonna be fine”

“Thanks”, you say with a husky voice. Suddenly feeling guilty about passing out before the danger had passed. Before everyone was safe. Much help you provided there.

“No, thank you. You saved us”. She smiles sheepishly and glances at the floor. “You saved me. Again”

“No problem, really”, you answer right away and lock eyes with her, “I said I would always be there to help if you needed any. And I meant it”. Her smile turns into a brighter one, making her brown eyes glint in the still too intense light.

“Um, Caitlin…”, you motion with your eyes down, “you’re still, like, holding my hand”. She blushes a little and replies, “I know”. 

By now the others of team Flash have noticed you’re awake and quickly join around the bed. Iris asks how you’re feeling, glad that she called you in to help, but was also concerned when she saw your gaping head-wound when The Flash carried you into The Cortex. Cisco thanks you, and is already discussing potential suit designs with functions you probably won’t be needing. Barry just gives a curt nod, probably pissed he got captured in the first place. Then they all turn to Caitlin because Cisco has asked the question of which they’re all dying to know the answer to. Has she decided what to do now?

“Well…”, Caitlin begins with a thoughtful look, “I think I’ll stay for now. I’ve missed you guys. Missed my family”, she says while looking at the team. But does that include you? Where do I fit in?

As if Iris can read thoughts, she suddenly interrupts. “I think (Y/N) needs some rest first”, she says with raised eyebrows aimed at you. Is there some secret communication going on you’re unaware of? “So we’ll leave you to it, right guys”, Iris continues and takes Cisco and Barry with her, basically dragging the naive boys far enough away. 

Caitlin is the last to leave. She stands up and wants to let go of your hand which she was still holding. Yet, you don’t let her. “Wait, Caitlin-”

“Yes?”, she returns expectantly. Perhaps you did pick up on what Iris was trying to tell you after all.  

“Is Team Flash the only reason you decided to stay?”, you ask carefully. She stares at you for a second and answers, “Well, yes”.

“Oh...”, you mutter and avert your gaze to the floor, more than disappointed. 

However, Caitlin wasn’t done and speaks again, “Because apparently there’s this new member on the team”. You glance back at her.

“Maybe I’d like to get to know this person better”, she suggests. Is that so, you think, staying quiet and patiently waiting for the rest. “A firefighter, with heating powers”.

“Sounds like a good match”, you say with a suggestive tone, “Heat and Cold. Completing one another”.

Before you know it you’ve asked the question that has been occupying your mind for a while now, under the heavy frustration of Iris.

“You wanna grab a coffee at Jitters sometime?”. “Sounds like a date”, she answers with a soft smile, “But first you need to rest”.

Imitating a voice as if following an order, you say, “Yes, I shall rest, Dr. Snow”, when she places a soft kiss on the back of your hand before slowly letting go. Her warm touch imprinted on your skin, you watch her leave until she is out of sight.

Now all alone, you suddenly feel yourself heating up. You close your eyes and immediately fall asleep because you’re so exhausted by everything that has happened today. A warmth ripples through your body, exhausted, yes, but also happy. Drifting away in a peaceful, dreamy sleep...

The smell of fresh coffee beans and the sound of soft chatter from people enjoying a cup or two fills the cozy place. Waiting for a special someone, you’re seated on a couch way too large for one person and gaze at the entrance when the door swings open...

[amethystshipper]

I was scrolling through my dash, as one does, and saw .gifs of the scene where the juniors are defending WWX to Sect leader Yao, and I was just smiling and thinking “ah, the kids are all right this time, it will be better”. And then I realized that ... the kids were all right the previous generation, too? And it would have been so easy to see them band together, especially after everything?

Hear me out. In essence, there’s no difference between the juniors and the ... OG juniors. (We need a name for them. Is there a name for that generation??? Cause we have the parents, and we have the juniors, what are WWX&co named??? Whatever, I’m sticking with OG juniors.) Each of these groups went through shitty situations, the OGs arguably through worse with the war and all. But before the war, we have 2 major bonding moments: the Cloud Recesses classes, and the Wen indoctrination. What if they actually bonded together, and their relationships were more flushed out? (Keep in mind I only saw the live-action drama, so that’s what I’m basing everything on.)

So, Cloud Recesses. You have the Jiangs, and then NSH, LWJ, WN and WQ added to the group, more or less willingly. JZX is still being a little bitch, but whatever, he’s there too, along with MianMian, who is arguably his biggest contribution. I will admit, there are ... levels ... of closeness. But you have the three gremlins getting together, and LWJ pulled in (again, levels), you have star-struck WN and tough WQ (who, need I remind you, took care of JYL at least once, which I bet the latter will not forget). You have LQR spitting blood because the boy is definitely his mother’s son, but LXC smiling indulgently, seeing his little brother finally make friends. (And LQR will remember that CSR was mischief made human form, and her son definitely follows in her footsteps, but both of them wanted always to help and not destroy, so there is definitely something wrong with the accusations that WWX wants to take over the world. And LXC will remember the Wen boy who stayed behind to save one of their own, and the Wei boy who dived in to help them both, and will not believe the grim tales of the fierce Ghost General and the Yiling Patriarch.)

After CR, WWX/LWJ/JC/NHS have their little murder adventure, with a WQ cameo.  LWJ is added to the gremlin dynamic and sure, he might not feel like he fits in at first, but WWX cannot seem to stay away from him, and he suffers in silence with JC while WWX is being an idiot and risking his life, omg, stop that, get down you demented cat, and then finds that there’s a certain bond little brothers with big brothers larger-than-life have, and maybe having two more friends is. Acceptable. They’re all supposed to be 15-16 at this point, teenage boys that started this adventure fully confident, at least on the outside. And then Xue Yang happens. And this is, I think, one of the biggest turning point for these four. Because, to a certain degree, all of them rely on rules. Their own, if nothing else. And here is a guy who just ... wants to see the world burn. He kills with no remorse, admits it gleefully, and is just awful in so many ways. This is their first brush with how brutal the outside world is, when they start to doubt themselves and their convictions. But then! XXC and SL appear, and it’s a breath of fresh air! Because there are terrible people and worse situations, but as long as they hold fast in their beliefs and work together and trust eachother, they can beat them!

So they go to the Unclean Realm, and they meet Daddy NMJ. And he’s been watching them approach, and he sees his little brother laughing with the boy in black, he sees him cackling while the one in purple is swinging his fists around; he sees him share a smile with Xichen’s little brother while the other two are laughing so hard they’re bent over so far they’re almost falling to the ground. And he doesn’t show it, because the Red Blade Master is gruff, and tough, and mighty, but in his heart he’s already adopted these kids who include his baby brother in their circle with so much ease, it’s hard to imagine him on the outside. (And in the future, when people are yelling about WWX’s darkness, this is the image he will have in his head: four boys being innocent and happy and his, how dare you try to touch them?!)

Cloud Recesses burns. LXC is nowhere. And then. The biggest paradigm shift - the indoctrination. Everyone arrives in Nightless City. The three OG gremlins watch LWJ back to his jade statue default, they lose their swords, they are on the same side with JZX and WWX/JC don’t know which one of these frustrates them more. It should be the looming war. It’s probably the JZX part. Now, I assume they spend at least a few weeks there, I don’t remember if it’s mentioned. But WWX always tried to get in front, to catch WC’s attention. (Because he’s the disposable one, right? High enough in status that WC is satisfied when he gets to punish him, but not a sect heir, not someone who will bring down a whole sect if he dies. Little does he know.) So don’t tell me that the others don’t rally around him. (Discreetly of course. They learn fast that he just gets more protective if others are hurt because of him.) There’s nothing stronger than a common enemy, and the Wens and WC, specifically, are definitely that. So they watch, and they remember WWX being beaten, whipped, humiliated, all so that others will not be. Not to mention that one night that he doesn’t tell even JC about, because it would crush his little brother to know he couldn’t keep his promise. They remember him staying behind so that they have a chance to escape the murder turtle. (And after the war, when the adults will try to damn WWX for being too arrogant and too prideful, the OG juniors will remember the kid who stood up to the Wen clan and has the scars to prove it, and all to protect them. Where was Jin Guangshan? Where was Sect leader Yao?)

Lotus pier burns. WWX disappears. JC and LWJ look for him for 3 months. And then. And then he comes back. And he burns the Sun to the ground, using dark cultivation and corpses and no sword, and everything that they were taught not to do, ever. And he succeeds where everyone else fails.

Afterwards, when the dust settles but not really, when life comes back to normal but not quite, when things become too boring apparently, the young ones see their elders muttering. And gossip. And look a bit too much at WWX, too closely. But this was a generation forged in the fires of war. They were not like their parents, who had time to figure out their shit and then go to battle, no. They were kids when it all started. There are no more kids amongst them now.

So when the minor sect leaders, subtly encouraged by JGS and JGY, talk about the “young” LC being a leader at such a young age with honeyed words that hide rot, NMJ and LXC rise to his defense. Both of them became sect leaders at young ages, both of them know how hard it is. LQR rises as well and the older ones expect him to be on their side, but they forget LQR got entrusted with a clan and 2 children that he was not supposed to have, so he will never demean another who was in an even worse position, but rose to the occasion despite everything that happened. The Lans promote knowledge and learning above all, and many people can learn a lot from Sandu Shengshou, wouldn’t you agree Sect leader Yao?

When the Jin sect complains about the Stygian Tiger Seal, rumors begin to spread from behind hand painted fans that they are after the artifacts of other sects. After all, does WWX not belong to YungmengJiang? Therefore, do his creations not belong to the sect as well? Who’s to say they won’t go after the treasures of the other sects next?

When JYL destroys Jin Zixun at Phoenix Mountain, JZX steps up to the plate and stands behind his fiancee. WWX is obviously her little brother that she cares deeply about, he will be his future brother-in-law, and honestly Zixun where were you even during the war?? You have demands now because?? Go shoot some arrows and chill. (JC is just standing there with crossed arms, looking at Jin Zixun without blinking, keeping a tight grip over Zidian who is the definition of  “lemme at him!!!” Jiejie doesn’t like it when he slices and dices people, although she’s not leaving much for him to chew on. It’s the most fun he’s had in years.)

When JGY sweetly suggest that there might be a viper poised to strike them in the back, NHS innocently asks “but San-Ge, didn’t your blow to WRH’s back help us win the war?” (NMJ has never loved his brother more than when he roasts JGY. Really, he could cry with pride. Here, A-Sang, there’s that fan you wanted. I ordered new birdcages to be build back home, you can have all the birds you want. Training is ... postponed.)

When news about the labor camps and the slaughtered Wens are revealed, many stay silent. A few of them cheer. But there are also a few that remember a boy willing to save someone from drowning, willing to risk his life to save the dead bodies of two parents. They remember the best doctor of their generation helping them heal, and rest, and save their loved ones. They remember that they are not the only children who were taken by this war, that they were not the only ones forced to make awful choices that haunt their dreams. They remember that it’s easy to stand back, but yet there was always one who stood up for the others, who would stand up for them, so how can they not stand with him now when he most need it?

WWX is not alone. The YungmengJiang clan is not alone. These kids went through hell and back in the past couple of years, and they will be damned if they will let another rise in WRH’s place. This ends now.

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 7

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 7!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Roman’s right, Remus. That’s not a frog. It is a moss slime.” Logan stated.

“It’s hideous.”

“Hey! How dare you be so mean to poor little mossy.” Remus said, holding the slime to his chest.

Warning/s: food mention, nightmare.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

7 | School Holidays

“Eye spy with my little eye something green.”

“A tree?”

“Yep!”

“Remus, you can’t just keep picking trees.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. It’s too predictable.”

“I spy an idiot.”

“Why you--!”

“Can someone put me out of my misery?” Virgil asked over the twin’s bickering.

Everyone was feeling exhausted, despite riding in a carriage all morning. But they had been stuck in the carriage all morning. They were beginning to regret winning that vacation, or at least the travelling part. It had of course been exciting when they first found out, but now they were all cranky and wondering if Remy’s surprises were all meant to torture them in some small way.

“How about we play a game that isn’t eye spy?” Everleigh suggested.

Roman nodded vigorously. “Please.”

“How about charades?”

“There are eight of us packed in here, Pat, we don’t have much room for charades,” Janus pointed out.

Patton frowned and thought harder. “Broken telephone?”

“I think we’re all too close for that,” Roman said.

“Yeah, plus Willow has an unfair advantage,” Remus pointed out.

“And you don’t, Miss Elf?”

“Touche.”

“Yeah, so, that won’t work. What about word-chain?” Roman suggested.

“What’s word-chain?” Logan asked.

“Basically, we each take turns saying a word one after the other to form a sentence. I’ll start! Once.”

“Upon?”

“A.”

“Time.”

“There.”

“Was.”

“A.”

“Butt!”

“Remus!”

“What? It’s not against the rules.”

“Can’t you use a different word?”

“Fine… Once upon a time, there was a posterior~”

“You little-- oof.” Roman -and the others- lurched forwards as the carriage stopped. “What was that?”

Before anyone could do anything, Remy opened the carriage door. “Okay kids, we’re here!”

“Why did we stop so abruptly?” Janus asked.

“We’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

Virgil gave him a flat look. “You couldn’t figure out how to slow down, could you?”

“You’re wasting your vacation time people!”

Everyone got out of the carriage and looked around to see that their surprise vacation destination was what looked like a lovely rustic little cabin in the middle of the woods, beside a gorgeous lake.

Patton gasped with delight. “Can we go swimming there?!”

“Sure, buddy, but let’s take our stuff inside first,” Emile said as he got down from the carriage.

“We really get to stay here?” Willow asked.

“Yup.” Remy nodded. “Courtesy of Mr Picani.”

“Wait, really?” Roman asked. “You guys own this place?”

Logan nodded. “My grandfather built it long ago, but dad wanted to be a baker so we couldn’t live all the way out here.”

“No offence Mr Picani, but this is way cooler than your bakery.” Remus declared.

Emile laughed. “I have to agree with you, Remus. This place is better than anywhere else.”

Everyone followed Emile inside of the cabin, which was quite clean, apart from some dust here and there. The cabin was one long room, with a living, dining room, and kitchen all together open plan style. There were also two nice sized lofts on either end of the cabin, that could be used as bedrooms.

Remy and Emile were each going to have their own room while the kids slept all together sleepover style in the living area downstairs. Once the kids had taken out their sleeping bags and claimed themselves a section of floor, they headed over to the lake. Patton was racing ahead of everyone and ran straight into it until his entire body was submerged. When he resurfaced again, he began splashing around and giggling like a little kid.

Remus laughed. “How’s the water, Pat?”

“Incredible! You guys have got to get in.”

“Last one in, is a rotten egg!” Roman shouted as he ran to join Patton.

Janus ran too and tripped him up, but then Roman grabbed his ankle so he fell too. Remus jumped over both of them and then basically dove into the water. Willow ran around Roman and Janus as they wrestled to be the first one up and into the water. Everleigh laughed at both of them as she ran by, while Virgil and Logan only smiled.

“Are you two going to get in or what?” Remus asked.

“I bet you five silver they wrestle their way into the lake,” Virgil said.

“Ten silver that they continue to wrestle after they get to the water,” Willow replied.

“Deal.”

Logan found himself suddenly splashed. “Hey!”

Everleigh just giggled manically at his angry glare.

“Oh, it’s on!” He splashed her back, and she shrieked, diving out of the way so the water instead hit Remus.

Instead of getting mad though, Remus grinned from ear to ear and yelled, “Water fight!”

Then all hell broke loose; metaphorically of course. Everyone began splashing and using water spells to soak each other, laughing loudly all the while. Later, after they’d expended most of their energy, they all went to the shore and Remy and Emile brought them some lunch.

---

“--and then you do this and, viola, a perfect flower crown!” Willow said, holding up their creation.

“Ooh, these are all so pretty.” Patton squealed.

Everleigh held hers up with a frown. “I think I did something wrong with mine…”

“That’s alright. My first flower crown completely fell apart when it held it up from my lap,” Willow reminisced. “Here, you can have this one.”

“Really, oh! Thank you so much!” Everleigh said, accepting the crown. “How do I look?”

“Like a true summer queen,” Willow answered.

“Hey guys, look I found a frog!” Remus declared.

Roman shrieked and jumped into Janus’s arms. “Oof-- hey!”

“That is not a frog!”

“Yeah, it is! Look.” Remus held the green creature up to Roman’s face, causing him to lean closer to Janus and make them both fall over.

“Roman’s right, Remus. That’s not a frog. It is a moss slime.” Logan stated.

“It’s hideous.”

“Hey! How dare you be so mean to poor little mossy.” Remus said, holding the slime to his chest.

“Uh, Logan, are those slimes at all dangerous?” Patton inquired.

“No. In fact, they play a key role in the ecosystem.”

“Which means you should put it back where you found it, Remus.” Roman declared.

“And you should get off me before I burn you to a crisp, Roman.” Janus snapped.

“I can’t take them back, they’re family.”

“You just found it.” Virgil pointed out.

“Exactly. How could I abandon them after only just meeting!”

“I don’t think Remy or Mr Picani will let you keep, Mossy, Ree,” Willow said.

“But they’re so cute. Who could say no to this face!”

“Anyone with half a brain.” Roman huffed.

Remus just stuck her tongue out at him childishly.

It took a while to convince him, but eventually, Remus was persuaded that Mossy would be happier staying at the lake.

---

The teens were all sleeping peacefully in the lounge area. They all had their own little sleeping bags and were curled up nice and warm, with only the soft glow of dying embers from the fireplace, illuminating the room. Everything was quiet, apart from Roman’s gentle snores, and the distant sound of croaking frogs.

Then a blood-curdling scream tore through the peaceful atmosphere and woke even the adults in their respective lofts. Willow jumped to her feet and stood in a fighting stance, Janus grabbed a log from beside the fireplace and lit it like a torch, Roman reached for his katana, Virgil jumped straight up and was now hanging from the bannister of one of the lofts, Logan and Everleigh were standing back to back with their firsts up, and Patton was beside Remus trying to shake her awake.

After a moment, everyone realised that it was Remus who was screaming so unsettlingly. He stopped with a gasp when Patton finally managed to wake him up. She looked around the room with wide eyes and began to cry as she realised it had only been a dream.

“...It didn’t happen… It didn’t happen…” he muttered between sobs.

Patton rubbed her back soothingly. “Remus...?”

“Thank the Gods… it’s not real.”

Roman paled. “What’s not real?”

“I- it- it was terrible,” Remus choked out. “A greedy soul betrays the heart, the world you know shall fall apart. Your only hope is to find the miracle that time left behind.”

Janus squinted. “What?”

“That’s what they said. Over and over again, while she…” Remus froze, a sob rising in his thought.

“What did you see, Remus?” Patton asked gently.

Remus took a deep wobbly breath. “A woman... She looked beautiful, yet old. Her eyes were dark and held what looked like centuries of wisdom... She was wilting before me, like a rose. Dying in front of me and I couldn’t reach her... None of us could.”

“We were all there?” Willow asked.

Remus nodded. “...But it wasn’t enough.”

“It was probably just a bad dream,” Remy said. “A really bad dream.”

“Perhaps you’re nervous about school.” Emile offered.

“How does that work?” Remus inquired.

“The woman could be representing magic, something old and beautiful. All of you are learning magic and maybe you’re nervous about getting enough knowledge to pass the second test.” Emile said.

Remus’s breath began to even out. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Whatever caused this, I think the best idea, for now, is to just calm down. How about some hot chocolate to help ease everyone’s nerves?” Emile offered.

Everyone nodded and sat down to relax. Janus took the wood he’d set alight and remade the fire in the fireplace, significantly brightening the room, while Emile got some hot chocolate made for everyone.

“I thought you’d grown out of those nightmares,” Roman commented.

Remus smiled weakly. “I’m still young at heart.”

“This has happened before?” Willow inquired.

“Well, I’ve had scary dreams, yeah. Woke nearly everyone in the castle when it happened as a kid. They haven’t been that frequent or… clear, lately.”

“Perhaps it’s the stress of being in an unfamiliar place,” Logan said. “Something that might help to keep you from getting worked up again, would be doing something you’re familiar with. Something that you’ve used to comfort yourself before.”

“My mom used to sing us back to sleep with lullabies,” Roman remembered. “But I can’t remember the words…”

“Do you know the name of the song?” Janus inquired.

“Uh… no… does anyone else know any lullabies?”

Everleigh frowned. “I’m not much of a music person.”

Patton shook his head. “I only know a handful of sea shanties.”

Logan and Virgil also shook their heads no.

“Well, Janus knows one,” Willow said.

“Why are you pulling me into this?”

“Because I can. The song is an older one that lots of people from Evergreen Valley would know, but I’m not sure if it’s well known elsewhere,” Willow explained.

“You’re talking about Running Wild, right?” Janus asked.

Willow nodded affirmatively.

Remus cocked his head to the side. “Running Wild?”

“It is a special song. A lullaby of sorts that has been passed down many generations.” Janus explained.

“Can you sing it?” Everleigh asked.

Janus bit their lip. “It’s meant to be accompanied by violin-”

“We have a violin.” Emile interrupted. “It belonged to my father. It’s a touch old, but should work.”

“Perfect. I can play it while you sing, Jan,” Willow said with a grin.

Janus glared at her a moment then sighed in defeat. “Fine…”

Emile got out the violin and handed it to Willow, who tuned it for while Janus got in position to sing. Everyone gathered in a semi-circle, like a proper audience, and waited patiently for the show. Then Willow began to play...

“Running wild in the sweet, long grass

Running wild where my heart is free at last

Running through the trees evergreen

Running to where my heart is keen

“I’m running, running without end

I’m running, running adventure round every bend

I’m running, running forever more

I’m running, running to see what’s in store

“Running though this world so wild

Running like a joyful child

Running here in the gold sunshine

Running in the cool rain divine

“Hmm~ Hmm~ Hmm…”

After that, no one had any nightmares, in fact, all that the kids dreamed about were peaceful forests and running wolves.

---

Logan woke to the sound of laughter and joyful voices, accompanied by the smell of fresh bread and fried bacon. He opened his eyes and scanned the living area to see who was awake. The twins were still knocked out, along with Willow and Virgil. In fact, it looked like the sun was only just rising outside, so whoever was up, had to be among the morning people of the group. Logan sat up and looked to the kitchen area, where he saw Janus, Everleigh and Patton were preparing breakfast.

"Morning sleepyhead!" Everleigh chirped when she saw Logan was awake.

“Good morning,” Logan replied, getting up properly from his bedroll. “I didn't know you all could cook.”

"We couldn't, but we woke up early, and your dad offered to teach us," Patton answered. "He and Remy went to get water from the creek for us quickly."

"Janus wasn't going to join us, but then they got to punch bread dough and we tricked them into joining us," Everleigh chuckled.

"I don't think you could trick Janus into doing anything he didn't want to," Logan commented.

Janus shook their head. "Why are you and Will always exposing me?"

Logan laughed. "What are friends for?"

"Did someone call me?" Willow asked, sitting up and rubbing their eye sleepily.

Everleigh gasped. "Oh my gosh, you look so cute."

Willow blinked her eyes open and cocked her head to the side. "Hmm?"

"I, uh- you look lovely in the morning," Everleigh said with a dark blush covering her cheeks.

Willow smiled. "Thank you, you look pretty too."

Everleigh somehow blushed even harder at that.

"You can get some more sleep if you want, Will," Janus said.

"Hmm, sleep." Willow looked at their pillow and laid back down. "Goodnight…"

Some soft snores a few moments later, indicated she was fast asleep again. Logan raised an eyebrow and looked over to Janus.

"What was that?"

"If she's still sleepy when she wakes up, then it's almost like she's drunk. Which is why they weren't nervous to tell Everleigh she's pretty." Janus explained.

"Why would she be nervous about that?" Everleigh asked.

"For the same reason you're still blushing," Janus smirked.

"I- I am not."

"Ev, we can all clearly see your blush," Logan said.

"That doesn't mean I have a crush on Willow."

"No one said you did'" Patton pointed out. "That's so sweet though."

"Shhhh, they're right there," Everleigh whisper shouted.

Janus shrugged. "She obviously reciprocates, so I don't see any issues with her hearing."

"Well, how would you like it if I exposed your crush on Roman?"

Janus's eyes went wide and then they looked away. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Patton gasped. "Double cute! Both of you would make cute couples with your crushes."

"I don't have a crush on Roman," Janus said.

"Geez, you're bad at lying about this," Logan commented.

"Well, when are you going to finally confess your feelings for Virgil?" Janus asked.

"Considering I have none, never."

"Liar~," Everleigh said in a sing-song voice.

Patton gasped again. "That's four fabulous couples! Oh, we should all do a group date sometime."

"I almost forgot you're dating Remus," Janus said. "How did that happen anyway?"

“Honestly I have no idea, but I love him very much.”

After that, the conversation focused on Patton and Remus instead of the others, much to Logan’s relief. He really didn’t need to have that conversation about his feelings again.

---

The group had decided to build a bonfire and collected every single stick they could find for it. They piled everything on the shore by the lake, to make sure they didn’t accidentally set fire to something else, and as the sun was setting over the mountains Janus lit it with their fire breathing. No one had seen them breathe fire yet, apart from Willow, and they were all very impressed, especially Roman.

“Hey, bro, don’t look now, but you gay is showing.”

“What?! Gah! Remus!”

The twins ran around for a while, Remus cackling the whole time like a mad person. The others began roasting kebabs and marshmallows over the fire.

“This is the perfect atmosphere for telling stories,” Everleigh commented.

“Do you have any?” Virgil asked.

“As far as I know, she has an infinite supply, with how many she tells,” Logan said teasingly.

Everleigh flashed him a glare but was fighting a smile at the same time, so she wasn’t too intimidating.

“What kinds of stories do you know?” Willow inquired.

“All kinds. Tales of adventurous knights, daring heroes, brave travellers, cheerful bards, sorrowful poets, tragic romances, haunting horrors-”

“Did you say horrors?” Remus asked, skidding to a halt and causing Roman to crash into him suddenly.

“Yeah, I love scary stories. There’s nothing like a mild horror to get your blood pumping.”

“Tell us one then.” Virgil urged.

“Uh, are you guys sure you want to go straight to horror stories?” Patton asked timidly.

“Don’t worry, Patty-cakes, you can hold my hand and I’ll keep you safe from your fears,” Remus declared.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Alright then, let’s hear it,” Janus said, motioning for Everleigh to start.

“Once there were two brothers, Jack and John. They were very normal little boys who loved to play hide and seek. One day, while visiting their grandmother’s house, they decided to play their favourite game. Jack went off to hide and John was seeking him. He looked for a very long time, before he came to a spare room, where he thought he saw something moving in the closet.

“John lept forward and grabbed what he believed to be Jack’s wrist, saying, ‘I finally found you! I found you.’

“John struggled to pull on the wrist, as the person in the closet pulled back definitely. After a few moments, John heard a voice behind him.

“‘I give up. You took too long.’ There in the doorway was little Jack. looking very bored and definitely not in the closet.

“John was so surprised, that he let go of the wrist and fell back, flat onto his butt. He looked up at the closet with wide eyes, then back to Jack, then back to the closet, before getting up and slowly backing up out of the room. After that day, John never went back into the spare room, and he made Jack promise to never play hide and seek ever again.”

“Did Jack see what was in the closet when he let go?” Patton asked.

Everleigh shrugged. “If he did. He never said anything about it.”

“It was probably a bat or something,” Remus declared.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “What makes you believe it was a bat?”

“They love hiding in dark places and could definitely freak out a small child.”

“John thought he was holding his brother’s wrist,” Virgil pointed out. “How big of a bat do you think was in there?”

“Well, bats can get pretty big,” Remus shrugged. “Then again, maybe it was just a murderer hiding out.”

Patton squeaked in fear and pulled his knees into his chest. “You guys don’t think there’s any murders hiding out here, do you?”

“Of course not, Patton. The scariest person here is Remus.” Roman answered.

Remus grinned. “Why, thank you, dear brother.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“It was to me!”

“Tell us another story, Ev,” Willow requested.

“Perhaps something a bit more lighthearted this time?” Patton added.

Everleigh nodded. “Okay, sure. How about the legend of the Miracle?”

Virgil perked up. “I haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“I’ve never heard that one. What is the Miracle?” Remus inquired.

“A creature almost forgotten by time. A legend true enough that it was once known to every elder and child in realms. No one knew truly where it came from and where it went is an even bigger mystery, but what it did changed the course of history forever.

“Three thousand years ago, the miracle lived openly in this very kingdom. It met with nobles and peasants alike, using its unparalleled healing abilities to make even those at death’s doorstep return to their healthy, happy selves. People came from near and far for help with not only their ailments but also other dilemmas. The Miracle was wise from many years of life and could easily council them. Not forever though.

“One day a king came to ask the Miracle to heal his daughter, but the Miracle refused. The king was so upset that he had the Miracle arrested and held captive in the dungeons. The Miracle used its unknown magic to break out, however, killing several soldiers and the king as it went.

“After that, no one dared to go near the Miracle and so it left the kingdom. At least, everyone assumed it did. It seemed to vanish off the face of the earth. Never seen again since its escape...”

“Why wouldn’t the Miracle heal the king’s daughter?” Patton wondered.

Everleigh shrugged. “That’s never been explained in any version I read.”

“Perhaps it couldn’t?” Willow suggested.

“It’s skills were greater than any sorcerer ever known. It could have easily cured anything.” Virgil stated. “From what I know, the princess died shortly after her father, and her younger brother took the throne instead.”

“The poor girl,” Patton said, wistfully looking off into the distance. He quickly perked up again though when something caught his eye. “Fireflies! They look so pretty!”

“Let’s catch them,” Remus suggested.

“Let’s see who can get the most!” Willow added on.

Nearly everyone jumped to the challenge and chased after the lighting bugs. In fact, only Virgil and Logan were left at the bonfire. Logan looked over at the taller teen curiously.

“Not joining them?”

“I don’t feel much like running,” Virgil confessed. “You?”

“Likewise… Do you know the story about how the stars came to be?”

“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve heard of it. Didn’t they just poof into existence alongside everything else the gods made?”

“Actually, the gods didn’t make them at all.”

“Who did then? Wait, tell me the story properly.”

“Alright then. When the world was still young there were only two lights who occupied the sky. The Sun and the Moon. They stood watch over humanity for the gods, each taking turns every few hours to be sure that they didn’t get too tired. The humans had decided to label these watches; day for Sun and night for Moon. During Sun’s watch, they would work, play, and do all sorts of things outside in the bright light. While during Moon’s watch, they stayed safe in their homes, hiding from the shadows, and sleeping until Sun returned.

“Moon would never say anything about it, but Sun saw how dejected they would look after their watch. Sometimes Moon would even accompany Sun during their watch and look down longingly at the happy humans enjoying Sun’s light. Sun’s light was much stronger than Moon’s, so of course, they did a better job of casting aside the shadows. Moon envied that ability. But they would never say so.

“Because of humanity’s hiding away, Moon’s watch was a lonely one. Sun wanted to accompany Moon, the way they sometimes accompanied them, but then people decided it was day since Sun so easily outshone Moon. Sun felt mournful for Moon. Moon was just as good a protector, if not better than them. But the human’s only knew that Moon’s light was lesser. Nothing else really mattered.

“One night, however, Sun came up with a plan. A brilliant plan to give Moon the company they longed for. They took from themselves a bit of light and scattered it across the night sky. These pieces came to life and were known collectively as the stars. Moon loved them dearly and finally found joy in taking up their watch. They were no longer so lonely.”

“That’s... beautiful,” Virgil whispered.

Logan had been staring at the stars as he told the story, so now when he looked at Virgil, he realised how close they were. He could see through his long dark bangs the faint glow of firelight and shimmer of stars in his stormy grey eyes. It was a captivating sight, so much so that he couldn’t bear to look away.

“Yeah,” Logan found himself whispering. “Beautiful…”

Twice, Janus had questioned his feelings towards Virgil, but this was the first time Logan found himself questioning what he felt. He couldn’t exactly describe it. Or perhaps he didn’t want to. For once, he wanted no answers, he only wanted to feel whatever this was. To just exist in this moment for the rest of eternity.

Shrieks of laughter from their classmates, however, broke whatever spell had been keeping the pair looking at each other, and the moment was over as quickly as it had begun.

Logan would later look back on that week as being full of wonderful memories. But that moment would forever stand out...

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales Reviews: Escape from the Impossibin! or A Dark Night of the Soul

It’s a long dark night of the soul for everyone’s favorite family of ducks as our beloved family grapples with the revelations of last episodes. While Scrooge clearly smarts from the betrayal he pits his latest security system against Della and Louie, given the title it naturally goes wrong and forces all three to try to escape. Meanwhile Beakly sics Webby on Huey and Dewey, and Dewey gets a cool new sword he can’t use while Huey has a slow burn mental breakdown.. again. Someone get my poor boy some therapy.  Suprises, Also an exaustingly deep dive into the life of Bentina Beakly. Disguises but sadly not pies of all sizes insue under the cut.

Well.. this one was fantastic. Obviously i’ll explain why as we go but holy shit I was not expecting a master class of an episode just one week after the already great Let’s Get Dangerous. And yes I had my complaints there but none of them, especially on the second watch, really detracted from what was honesty an amazing episode. And after slogging through “Catch as Cash Can” over the past few days, this was a welcome return to the version of the duck family I love best and a crisp reminder of why this series is so frigging amazing. I may criticize, i’m a critic comes with the territory, but I genuinely and wholly love this show, and this episode is encapsulates why. So enough lollygagging, let’s dew it to it!

We open with one of those scenes where two characters give a similar speech and it flashes back between both as they finish each other’s sentences. It’s a storytelling choice I never realized I always loved as it’s always a good way to amp up tension or comedy. It’s a good way to start. At the Mansion, Beakly is lecturing Donald, Huey and Dewey, because both families likely talked Launchpad into just sharing different days with each of them after the first inevitable sleep driving car crash so he’s with his boyfriend and child right now. It’s also really nice to both have almost the entire main cast given something to do for an episode AND have the one missing member have a thoroughly valid reason for not being there that was set up last week.  It’s also really nice to see Donald and Della again. While it’s only been two weeks, both have only featured in one episode this block so far, and Della’s been kind of pushed to the side this season.. not unfairly mind as she was the focus for two solo episodes and a ton of episodes last season for obvious reasons but it dosen’t mean I can’t miss my disaster twins when they aren’t around.  So anyways back on the episode, Beakly is naturally assuming theirs more traitors in their midst, and she and webby have narrowed it down.. this dosen’t really come up aside for a gag in a second for the rest of the episode, but is both funny and two of them are clearly setup for later. Have a look

My thoughts in order: 

Little Bulb: He probably IS plotting to betray them, but for entirely unrelated reasons.  Donald: .........................................................................................................

Look I get it on some level, as he was away from the family a long time, hated Scrooge, and had every reason to betray him. BUT, and it’s a bit but, besides the obvious of Bradford and his goons being the reason they gave up looking for his sister, if for good reason, Donald would’ve TOLD them all about that by now if he’d been spying, or if he’d had any dealings with the man. The man loves his family, uncle included, more than anyone and even at their lowest point I doubt he’d sell the man out for the boys sake unless FOWL threatened them. Donald is principaled, hardworking, loving, and has both dove directly into a nest of shadows and sent himself hurtling to earth in a possibly lethal rocket to protect this family, so even if this is a funny gag, it does bother me Beakly and ESPECIALLY Webby, his surrogate niece, would even consider this. That being said while I felt the need to rant because he’s my boy and I feel protective of him, it was damn funy as Donald naturally tries to wipe it off because.. yeah everything above, only to get caught in the flipping board and ending up as above with Beakly forced to admit it’s probably not him. Plus yeah.. he’s also way too clumsy and anger prone for wetwork so there’s also that. 

Fenton: I’m TEMPTED to use the trunks picture twice in a row but besides that being obnoxious.. I get it MORE here. Donald has no motive anymore, would’ve told them by now if he had when he did, and has broken his back for all of them at one time or another. Probably literally in some cases. Fenton is sweet, loyal and another one of my boys.. but his obviousness has left him open to deception in three different episodes, not counting the tolkyolk one since that wasn’t BOYD”S choice: But he put blueprints out online for a mcduck industries project, got his armor taken by beaks luring him in to work for him, and had Gandra working for Beaks snuck into his lab.. and probably in the process also got any info on it Bradford couldn’t get through company files. He’s a good man, a kind man but he could easily be a leak without realizing it and also has a mother at home and could be threatened into doing stuff for them for her saftey.. and yes I know she can take care of herself but we’re talking a regular cop against secret agents who aren’t above murdering one. He  might panic even if rationally he knows she’s fine.. or they could do the inverse and use her to get secrets from him since she’s a mother and Gandra could probably easily hack fenton’s armor, since Bradford probably has the full blueprints at this point. The point is while I don’t see him betraying them WILLINGLY, I get him being a possible leak. Donald could be, but again is too obvious and likely reguarly checked for bugs anyway long before fowl, as is Launchpad I assume. 

Bluescreen Beagle: I don’t know this dude, but I’m betting he’ll be important soon enough since they brought him up at all and he is a beagle working for Scrooge so that alone is interesting. 

Louie: Yeah unlike my boys I have no excuses for him here. While Louie is family, and has proven his own loyalty plenty... he’s also selfish, greedy and shortsighted so like Fenton he could be an easy accidental pawn at best or turn on them for money or an adventure free life at worst. I don’t think he would mind, i’m just more understanding of this given just last episode his response to a clearly suspicious thing making machine was to ignore any suspicion entirely and whine about it while Huey looking into it ended up saving the universe. He also nearly killed them all last season, so fair enough.   

So yeah Beakly is going to train them to 

WHich the boys are all for while Donald gets all spinny eyed ont he floor. Cue credits... though obviously we have to cover the scrooge side of things too... 

Meanwhile at the bin, Scrooge has brought Louie and Della there because there the sharpest mind he knows, and their seeing all the angles means their the perfect test subjects for his new post-deeply cutting betrayal security system. He also obviously goes off on an alteration filled rant at Bradford that has to be cut before he can get to calling him shiteating. And given he’s a buzzard that’s probably not inaccurate. Point is they are genuinely the best ones for the job and both agree.. Louie’s not really enthuastic about any of this but hey it’s their money this is guarding so why not. So with that done since we have two full plots to deal with and they don’t intersect until the last few minutes, like with Forbidden Fountain of the Foreverglades, i’m going to be splitting this one and covering each bit separately since it’s also easier for me to recall and recap that way. 

Beakly, Brah, Making Kids (and herself) Cry, Brah!: 

A can of coke to whoever figures out that reference first. Or a free review comisson shipping Coke is expensive you know? But yeah as you can tell this bit is not going to go well for any of the kids, or the beakly or my heart. So this plot continues at breakfast, where Huey is meticulously going over both his guidebook and Finch’s Journal to see if there’s ANY signs of F.O.W.L. their connection anything.. it’s also very clear he’s panicking. Given his enitre life is built on logic and he’s now facing a threat he probably feels he SHOULD have seen coming.. I mean they clearly have access to the Missing Mysteries, there must be SOME tie to them SOMEHOW. He, in my opinon at least, feels blindsighted and scared, going up against a group using his own love of logic that blindsighted all of them INCLUDING Scrooge, the most clever and daring adventuerer of all time and Beakly, who was likely responsible for seemingly wiping out F.O.W.L. in the first place. If THEY can be blindsighted, what hope does he have? So he’s searching for it in his comfort texts, kind of like I did at his age: when theirs a crisis trying desperatley to solve it even if you really can’t, which he cannot, at leats not alone.  Dewey of course being Dewey, has decided the solution is to get a massive sword he can’t lift and hit people with it and mock Huey for his reading. Huey gets what’s clearly the start of his episode long emotional breakdown, the worst he’s had of SEVERAL this series and over the biggest stakes thus far, seriously get this boy some therapy, while Dewey just thinks the key to beating their worst menace yet is a giant sword to hit things with. He does break a pot with it in an accidental spin attack in a later scene though so I do apricate that reference. 

But when opening the serving tray they find an attacking Webby instead with Beakly explaining why she’s doing this to her surrogate brothers: Beakly is testing them by having Webby sneak attack them at some point and the’ll never know when, while Beakly herself works with Donald to secure the house.. sadly we don’t get to see any of that latter part, as it’s probably full of hilarious slapstick, but it’d also clash heavily with the rest of this plot which, while not lacking in jokes, is meant to be uncomfortable and have us on edge like the boys, so fair enough. Webby “Bringer of Death” hugs htem saying this is going to be fun. 

Naturally it really REALLY isn’t as Huey is still very shaken by this. And it cleverly ties into what’s been shown from day one and especially this season to be his greatest weakness, and very likely the crux of his character arc: Huey can’t improvise. It’s a nice contrast to Louie last season: Louie’s very talent is thinking on his feet, seeing every angle and making them bend the way he wants. I’ts how he schemes as well as he does, how he fits into the family and what makes him himself. What he needed was to think of others and think through the consequences of his actions. That’s what he gained from his arc last season: perspective, the ablility to improvise while also not shooting himself in the foot for later and to have empathy for people.  Huey is the oppoisite: Instead his ablility to think IS his skill. He’s a genuis, able to understand super science on the level of fully grown adult genuises, able to puzzle through confounding mysteries, to solve any problem. He and huey both are gifted with anyalsis, but Louie sees the small picture, the people, the moving parts at the moment, while Huey sees the big picture and how everything connects to lead to one thing and loves learning more and more. I REALLY relate to him that way. But this season has brillinatly drilled in where he needs to improve: He’s not ready for suprises or deviations from his plans or all the things that could go wrong. He can’t improvise, he just panics. It’s something again I relate to and something that each of his episodes has set up leading to this moment hammering it home and me realizing what his arc was:

Challenge of the Senior-Junior Woodchucks had Huey utterly lost without his Guide Book for a while and unprepared for a sudden challenge in Violet. Quack Pack had him unravel when he couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the world, yet he was perfectly fine once he knew what was going on, Astro B.O.Y.D. was entirely about his intellgence and need for structure leaves him bullied and alone a lot of the time even among in his element with the woodchucks and how he finds friendship in someone like himself who gets him. Rumble for Ragnarok showed that while he can comment find for sports like golf where there’s rigid structure, rules and history, he fails as bad as Launchpad at calling wrestling because wrestling is just as much about sponteaniety as planning, with run ins, reff discrations and other chaos being part and parcel and even in real life matches often have to be changed on the fly due to injuries or someone simply coming up with a better finish at the last minute. At the same time the season’s shown how it is vital to him, as the next two, The trickening and forbidden fountain showed WHY his structure works and that it can in the right format, and that he usually has reason for it. And the final one showed that too, with him being the one to find out what Bulba’s up to simply by research, and while he didn’t stop it, his pulling at the threads of why Bradford was there and his hate of them forced FOWL out into the open which, while now putting him on edge, forced their enmies into the open where while their more dangerous, they can now at least strike back.  Huey’s arc is , hopefully if i’m right about this, about him having to learn to use his strengths with his weakneses, much like Louie last season: To adpat, to grow while not forgetting who he is and that not everything can be put in a box, as the creators put their interpretation of him. Not everything can be quanitfied or planned for and sometimes you just have to try and hope for hte best. It’s a damn compelling arc, my relating to it helps of course but it paints Huey as a fascinating character and tying it heavily into the main plot fixes how Louie was largely removed from the moonlander plot aside from one episode, as was glomgold’s quest. While the season has three main plots: A focus on Huey, the missing mysteries and FOWL, all three intertwine perfectly and are interconnected. The creators learned well from where they slipped up last time and the result is phenomenal, and they’ve clearly proven this is Huey’s season afterall: Even when he’s not been the a-plot who huey is, how he functions and being forced to grapple with the downsides of it are front and center and I am here for it. 

But yeah he’s breaking down, not helped by trying to go to beakly only to find out about the hidden bin and Dewey tries to help him calm down.. only for Dewey to walk in and unsuprsingly the one who can actually offer deep encouraging support was Webby who threatens this isn’t the attack. Nor is her dummy she leaves for them. The boys are left terrified hoping they won’t be attacked and holding Dewey’s sword, but Huey ends up convinced it’s just a test and that it’s the classic paranoia gambit: by telling them something will attack, the real lesson is to be prepared.  But Nerp, Webby attacks them with arrows and easily snares Dewey while Huey has a panic attack that’s genuinely hard to watch as he ends up running into the wall and breaking his ankle. This very real pain along with his clear trauma when he flinches at her genuinely trying to help him snap Webby out of it: She realizes she’s gone way too far and utterly terrified her own brothers, sending one into a full on mental breakdown, just to prepare them. Up till now it was probably normal for Webby: Beakly trained her rigorously, if understandably, kept her from the world, probably did this to her, and Webby just thought it was normal and it made her what she is. But it also came at the cost of any normalcy. To me Webby’s always been like a lighter, since she can at least speak, has toys and Beakly you know treats her like a human being rather than a weapon, of the second Batgirl, Cassandra Cain. Cassandra was raised from birth as an experiment to make the ultimate weapon, someone who rather than speak spoke in phsyical motion and could kill effortlessly.. but actually doing so shocked her and she escaped and Bruce took her in. Cass is as badass as Batman at a fraction of the age but dosen’t understand simple life things and can’t speak. Hence the parallel: While Beakly isn’t a monster like David Cain, she still took a small child and turned them into a weapon strugging to adapt to society, and only isn’t a monster because as said she clearly cares about webby and dosen’t want to loose her like she lost her child and in-law to whatever presumibly fowl related nightmare took them from her and left Webby an Orphan.  What i’m getting at with this is this feels like Webby realizing while this is her normal.. the boys can’t take it with Dewey terrified and again, Huey nearly broken by all of this and whimpering in a corner. This isn’t bonding between master and student, grandmother and granddaughter, partners in fighting.. this is just .. wrong. So when Beakly, not noticing how badly she’s damaged either boy, demands Webby continue attacking them, Webby refuses, stands firm.. and prepares to take on the person she loves most in the world, yes more than Lena she’s only 12 for christ’s sake, and Beakly gladly accepts. Webby’s training is in session.  When we next see them the fight is in full force, and it is awesome to see. After 3 seasons we not only see Beakly’s darkest aspects come out we see her granddaughter in the path. Though at first it seems like what their training sessions normally are, a friendly if lively and full force spar between two trusting combatants. But it becomes clear over the fight from Webby’s reaction that Beakly is going harder than usual, and doesn’t stop when asked. Thankfully her kind gesture paid off as Huey and Dewey whisk her up to the attic. Webby is genuinely SCARED, never having seen her like this but also worried for her: Acting like a monster or not.. Beakly is still her granny and it’s clear FOWL coming back has rattled her. The fist through the attick doors, barred with the sword proves that.  The kids head up to the roof with Beakly in persuit like some sort of slasher villian, again fist through a door, determined to still fight while Webby clearly just wants this to stop and so does the audience. This hurts.. intentionally so but I haven’t been cut this deep by two family members literally coming to blows since Amethyst fought Pearl in the first season of steven universe. It’s tough to watch but in a very good way. The boys break up the tension for half a second by  rushing her and she just tosses them aside... where their caught by Donald, who didn’t realize ANY of this was going on and is rigthfully pissed.. though dosen’t do the angry dance thing because then he’d kill his children but he’s sure thinking it loud enough. 

As Webby reluctantly readies for round 2, Donald calls at her to fucking stop already. While she counters with they have to be ready, which is true... Donald shuts her down. “Not like this”. She’s broken Huey and Webby and Dewey.. is traumatized but fine but this episode really isn’t about him.  What it is about is Bentina Beakly and her Dark Night of the soul. I brought up the term for dumb reasons admitely: Because it sounded neat and because Douglas Adams had spoofed it with the dirk gently novel “Dark Tea-Time of the Soul” a title that’s stuck with me and a book I own and still need to read. But I looked it up to make sure I wasn’t badly misusing it and it turned out to fit this episode: A Dark Night of the Soul, as defined by spirtual guru and thankfuly not scumbag Eckheart Tolle whose article explained the old expression better than wikipedia could. While he naturally pitches his book there, it was still helpful so thanks man for your spirtual advice helping me analyize ducks. I owe you one. 

The Dark Night of the Soul is essentially a person coming to their lowest point after having lost themselves or feeling lost, rattled by one event and awakening with a new sense of spirtual purpose and a new direction and a sense of self again after it. Having everything you know upended and coming out the other side with a new self, usually in a religious sense. And it works here because really that’s what Huey, Beakly, Scrooge and to a Degree webby face here. Louie, Della, Dewey and Donald are all fine in the face of FOWl and it makes sense: Louie and Donald are often outside the adventure bubble in terms of enjoying it, seeing it’s dangers to them and in Donald’s case his kids, Webby included, and how much chaos it is. Both have accepted it as part of their lives so while this escalates things, both just see it as just more of the peril and chaos that’s a daily part of their lives. Dewey and Della being thrillseekers and loving a good challenge simply see this as taking on an epic challenge: fighting the worst villians of the world off and having a daring story to tell. Webby similarly isn’t that effected at first because she sees it the same way likely and only starts to get bothered by it when it starts tearing her family, the thing most precious to her, apart over it. 

But for the other three it makes sense. Obviously we’ll come back to Scrooge during his part of the episode. But for Huey as we’ve seen this upends his world. There was a massive deadly secret just beneath him, an unknown beyond all unknowns, and it rattled him.. and having his own sister constantly terrorize him just made it worse. For Huey without consitencey his life falls apart as those prevoius episodes highlhted.l He can prepare for anything.. but he has to know it’s coming and having a villian group who strikes from the shadows is his worst fears manifest and preparing for that naturally breaks the poor boy. He gets through it though, as once it’s on someone else, his fear falls away and as we saw his focus is entirely on helping webby: Not on himself, not on the risk but on protecting his sister. It shows that Huey has the potenital for instinct, as seen with the woodchuck and wrestling episodes too, he just needs to get out of his own head and let it work with his gut instead of trying desperately to use only his head. 

For Beakly though it’s far worse... and really gets to the core of who she is in this series. She was, and probably still is, a Secret Agent, who fought long and hard to utterly destroy FOWL, at the cost of everything else, constnatly having to keep her guard up with spies all around her and with Scrooge apparently being the only friend from those days who lasted the whole time. SHe probably lost countless partners in both sense of the word, time and youth she’ll never get back and everything she had to stop them. She gave S.H.U.S.H. everything as far as I can tell.  And then she got her reward. FOWL was gone, she had a child, and possibly had a loving partner, provided they didn’t either leave her pregannt and alone or just grow apart from her eventually we don’t know at this point and i’m just spitballing. Point is she had a child, she had a happy ending.. except clearly.. she did not. According to the website, and it’s probably still accurate, Beakly was living in seclusion following her retirement, likely to keep anyone from harming her child.. but also because with her partner possibly gone, she had almost NOTHING left. A child that either kept her at arms length or she kept at arms length to keep their family safe, an old friend who was busy as is, and a safe world.. that’s all she had. Just her and alone. And that’s been clearly shown as Beakly’s biggest issue as we see: She has trouble letting others, even webby at times given how she lied at her, in and given all she’s lost it’s hard not to see why. After a life time of probably watching cold blooded killers kill people she loved and having people betray her and loosing the father of her child possibly, again it’s vauge, no wonder she is the way she is.  And then it somehow gets worse and better: She looses her child, one of the three people she has left in the world.. yet she finds herself in charge of Webby. And with that.. she has a purpose again, to protect this child. This baby girl who needed her more than anything. So she did.. a little too well as discussed. To quote the excellent song “Dark, Sad, Lonely, Knight” from the musical “Holy Musical B@tman!” which yes really exists: 

“I remember that horrible night that night you were split in two, and I swore I’d protect you. So I built a wall all around you, but the wall was too tall, it blocked out all the birds and the sun. I tried to raise you right! I tried to raise you proper! I tried to be a mentor and a friend and a mother and a brother too! I’d insulate you from any outside source of fright... i’d make bloody certain, you’d never see another, dark, sad, lonely night. “ 

And yes as you can imagine that was sung by Alfred.. but it fits perfectly. That’s how Beakly raised Webby, guarding her from the world, trying to protect her from the world the way she’d always guarded herself from it. She did hurt webby’s development.. but you can see WHY. She lost everything, she had two people left in her life at that point: One had given her home and the other had given her her soul back. She couldn’t loose Webby so she made sure she couldn’t and held her as tight as she could. It’s why she pushed Scrooge to let his young nephews into his life. She saw over her time with him he was doing what she did, pushing everyone out. She wanted him to avoid being alone like she was before Webby. And it worked.. and showed her Webby clearly wanted to see the world and that Bentina didn’t have to be afraid to show it to her anymore, and could let Scrooge share in doing so. She let her be free and opened up for the first time in likely a decade since she got a two year old dropped on her lap.  And soon wither she’d admit it or not she found herself part of the family. She found herself the voice of reason, sometimes sharing it with Donald, and the one to put both Scrooge and the rest of the family in their place when they nearly tore apart again, helping Donald realize that for all scrooge hurt him.. Scrooge hurt from loosing della too, and helping the boys realize Scrooge, much like herself, tends to lash out at people. She prevented them from getting distance from their family, knowing from experince you may never get them back or mend that wound. She was part of the family and for the first time in her life even if again, given her emotoinal distance she wasn’t really close to any of the duck family but Scrooge and her newly inducted Grandaughter, she still clearly cares and looks after them and even her harsh treatment of Della was well meaning and understandable.  And that’s why the F.O.W.L. revelation tears her apart to her very core, her very SOUL: Because not only is the enemy she thought dead, or may of known wasn’t dead we don’t know but this episode leans towards the former alive, not only is her worst enemy, one who nearly killed her grandaughter part of them once again, but their head was one of Scrooge’s most trusted advisors and associates, the man he trusted more than himself at times to do what the company needed and the only one who knew his deepest secrets besides Beakly herself. They now faced not only her worst nightmare reborn, but with vital info about them and everyone around them. And for all we Know F.O.W.L. took her family from her in the first place and now they easily could again and she NEVER saw it coming. It’s why she drives everyone including Webby so hard, because she can’t take loosing everyone she cares about again so they will be ready, they will be prepared even if it destroys them on the inside because she cannot take it again.. she can’t fail them AGAIN. I feel she puts a lot of the blame on herself because in this family it’s her job to be the suspicious one, to see things coming, to be ready, to be the one who knows EVERYTHING even more than scrooge.. and this apparently rattled her as much as he did and suprised her just as much. She failed and she can’t again even if Webby hates her for it.  But in trying to continue the fight.. she slips, Webby dodges and she falls off the roof.. and everyone helps her up. Even if they all have EVERY REASON to be mad at her they help. And Webby points out this can’t go on. They won’t get stronger tearing themselves apart.. their a family. They don’t need to do it like fowl, they need to be themselves and work TOGETHER. The one thing they have, the one thing they can trust is each other. Beakly is touched like this and realizes their right.. their not the enemy.. and there the one people,, for once in her life she can fully and completely trust. She tries apologizing to webby, they hug..and then gets an alert. What’s all that about? Well to get that that we kinda have to finish the other story.. which I would’ve put first had I realized this was going to be as long as it was but hey. 

Escape from the Impossibin 

Thankfully this won’t be as long or as emotionally complex.. entirely. So back at this plot about 20 minutes ago, Scrooge breaks down the challenge and the risk as it was made by the most devious and deranged minds he knows: Gyro and Quackfaster with Louie getting a good laugh out of me by pointing out “Why are the most devious minds in Duckberg friends of ours” to which I say because only Scrooge let’s them go all out, and on the friend part, at least for you, Louie...

I mean maybe Quackfaster, but you stole from Gyro multiple times now. And he hated Fenton for far dumber and more petty reasons why wouldn’t you assume he hates you too.. I mean he did help with Louie’s Eleven but there was also a good chance your head would explode there so I don’t really count it. 

Anyways Scrooge offers lunch if they make it, which Louie notes means he must REALLY not think they will. And the first test proves his overconfdience correct as we enter the most dangerous, devious and deadly trap Gyro could manage.. which given who we’re dealing with, i’d be very afraid. The ultra violent ultra violet trap seems at first to just be a bunch of purple, if really cool buzzsaws and sawblades, your standard super villian death course.. but Gyro being beyond your average super villian, I mean the only reason he’s not is he has a steady job that lets him build a clone army with company resources so why would he give that up, jazzed it up with an ultraviolet bit of bulbtech.. and due to the violet light it hides the traps ,meaning their invisible. And while Louie and Della try navigating them, they cannot get through as Louie runs out of PEP to spray them with and Della using her metal leg as a guide, which itself is awesome for her as she clearly and wisely made the thing nigh indestructible and we haven’t seen it tear or get destroyed once all series so good going, really should market that to other people in need of prostetics della and Scrooge. Scrooge is of course delighted as that’s the entire point even if his child and grandchild are understandably not as happy about it.  But naturally, as I hinted at in the teaser, it goes wrong as Scrooge’s password dosen’t work and he tries it too many times, been there, sucks. Granted Louie asks hilariously “Your the oldest man in the world why isn’t your password just 1234″.. and though the why is obvious, it’s still a good line. Point is their locked out and now have to escape it for real! Weirdly Scrooge dosen’t catch onto the fact of whose behind it, but we’ll get to that. He does have more pressing matters. Luckily Louie figures it out after an insult at the Bulbtech causes it to flash read, like most Bulbs do.. but since this Bulb’s entire purpose is to flash Purple, that means pissing it off makes the blades visable and while Scrooge is understandably sore that his 3 million dollar security system has such a big flaw in it, they escape. Though I get Scrooge’s frustration: Their going up against someone who knows how Gyro’s tech’s works, if Louie can figure it out so can Bradford and he wouldnt send FOWL in without a full briefing on Scrooge. 

We don’t see the next one as it’s a time loop room, it’s a time loop room, it’s a time loop room okay i’ll stop and so does Dell after Louie well meaningly smacks his mom. Next puzzle’s quackfaster and I like scrooge pulling a Dumbledore and having some of his most trusted advisors devise the traps for him. I may hate JK Rowling for good reason but I did always love that bit of the Sorcerer’s (Or phillosphers in the uk because the publisher’s weren’t as stupid) Stone. Death of the author and all that. Point is I like it here too even if i’ts truncated for time. But Emily’s trap is a bunch of tiles that fuck with gravity because apparently she’s magical now... who knew. I’m not questioning it though: She runs a giant library full of dangerous, and probably magical in some cases, literature.. if she didn’t know spells she probably woudn’t be able to sort some of them. It’s a new fact out of nowhere but it makes perfect sense. 

Point is they have to figure it out though Louie once again succeeds with some books and, in a really cool bit, using scrooge as a platform with the two walking in time and della grabbing on as they hit the master rune to shut them all off. It’s a damn cool sequence even if Scrooge is agrviated.  We then come, after they apparently fought a Squid Monster off screen, because Quackfaster can also apparently summon demons.. or gyro made a tentacle monster which dosen’t suprise me at all. Either way it’s the final challenge in the main room leading ot the bin and in the way of deactivating security: A Scrooge Robot! Because as we all know by video game logic, the Robot Version is always stronger. Of course Louie’s annoyed both at the spending of his inhertince and at Scrooge’s egotisim but he has a good point there and the thing looks hilarious clunky with 8-bit eyes.. till it morphs, to scrooge’s delight, into a giant purple robot with a cane and scrooge’s face on the front j jonah jameson style. I never see that spider-slayer refrenced but i’mg lad this one did. Granted it could be to arim zola or something but I feel the Spider-Slayer refrence fits here.. take a look if your curious. 

See? Anyways a fight insues with Scrooge, in a great bit, riling up Della when she fishes for him to admit she would’ve’ been a better base by bringing up Donald first instead. The trio get their asses kicked, and a pep can drops out, as naturally Louie was lying but it’s a rare flavor so I get it. I do. Thankfully his lies do save them however as the Cherry PEP he fires at the machine stuns it while Scrooge USES THE POGO CANE MOVE ON IT. Hell.. fucking yes. It’s about time we saw that again and in fully glory here too. I really want that game on the switch by the way.. where’s my disney afternoon collection.. WHERE CAPCOM WHERE.  But yeah they won.. and Scrooge is upset. Because this was SUPPOSED to keep FOWL out but if his family can beat it so can they. And now we get to Scrooge’s far less horrifying dark night of the soul as we get a sense of just how much this whole ordeal has rattled him: As he mentioned at the top of hte episode he TRUSTED  Bradford. It was clear he never liked him as a person, but Scrooge is a paranoid guy, he hardly trusts anyone and for someone to earn that it had to take a lot.. and it naturally stings. We see that while he may of been a necessary evil, SCrooge still liked the guy on some level and to have someone he trusts and respects betray him naturally shook Scrooge. He trusted someone.. and they knifed him in the back going against all he stands for. Instead of earning money, Bradford stole what Scrooge and others worked for while working to destroy him as soon as he feasably could and take his legacy for himself. To Scrooge, Bradford was revealed to be the worst kind of parasite and one that leeched off him for probably decades.  But what’s worse is the risk that creates: Bradford was one of his top guys and the only other one running the company: He knows EVERYTHING about Scrooge, every secret, every investment, where every treasure is stored, and everywhere he’s been. He knows about his friends, family, some of his darkest and most guarded for a reason secrets, secrets he’d never give away freely.. and can now use ALL of it to destroy his family and everyone they care about. That sheer level of betryal would rock anyone but someone like Scrooge, who BARELY trusts anyone and can even be paranoid of his own family from time to time? LIke beakly it’s easy to see why he spiraled and why he put so much into this: Because like Beakly, he was blindsided, and his buisness, his crown jewel, the thing he put his heart and soul into and worked hard to build up and CONTINUES to work hard on to this day.. was being slowly corrupted and he has no idea what parts or where or just what all Bradford did with his money and resources and what nasty suprises he has hidden in them. The one thing he could trust as almost entirely his is tainted, his sense of security tainted.. and his sense of self tainted. If Scrooge freaking mcduck can get blindsighted like this, just how powerful is his former friend? 

And we soon see Scrooge’s own fears manifest as Bradford hyjacks the robot, revealing this was, naturally him.. as of COURSE it was the guy who was revealed to be an evil mastermind who hates your guts. And because Scrooge didn’t change his password, which cleverly is the sum total of his money hence why it was a mass of numbers, which.. really dude? I don’t like doing it either and don’t change mine up if I can help it but even I did when someone tried hyjacking my spotify account. Yes that happened, I thought it was just a wifi thing, it was not. So yeah turns out Bradford was STILL one step ahead, and thus knew about the defenses and thus trapped Scrooge in them for reasons that will dramatically be revealed at the end of the episode. He also naturally attacks because just like JJ, he’s a crotchety old man whose yelling at our loveable rascals to in a sense, get off his lawn. Granted unlike JJ he’s clearly never came around, but the parallels are there. Point is it’s time for another fight this time using the gravity runes, with Scrooge hitting his despiar event horizon as if FOWL can outhink him on this what hope does he have. But like the rest of his family sans launchpad did for Beakly, Louie helps him through the other side and points out there are things they have they don’t.. and demonstrates as naturally the bulb tech used for the robot is just as irate so Louie tricks it into going after him then does a bin dive, with the massive amount of money destroying the thing and Bradford unable to get Gandra to stop it, so our heroes win... oh and Bradford left the company.. for some reason, because as his investors Scrooge can’t really remove him and I was curious how they’d get him out.. then again Scrooge probably, even as cheap as he is, had security cameras showing Bradford’s little talk with Bulba or any of his various rants as evidence. I mean Scrooge is stingy but he’s not STUPIDLY stingy. it’s the best I got, point is he’s to the wind now and our heroes have one! Except yeah.. the ending of the last segment. 

Lost the Battle, Time to Win the War

In an utterly amazing swerve we find out just what kind of alert Beakly got as the rest of this episodes cast have arrived at the bin and Beakly asks why Scrooge hasn’t answered his phone.. and when Scrooge does Bradford’s plan comes into view: Turns out he locked scrooge in as a DISTRACTION, keeping him in the one place no one could reach him. It also explains why he attacked Scrooge: Besides having the perfect weapon for it and getting to gloat, someone needed to keep him busy while the rest of his operatives finished his master stroke.  Turns out EVERYONE involved with one of the missing mysteries called: Goldie called to gripe about the fountain being gone and Scrooge taking it before she could, the Mervanans called to tell him the harp was swindelded by some eggheads and their good vibes did nothing to save her, we also get to see the pink one in full view which is nice but unimportant, and we get Drake back for a cameo! 

But sadly it’s because he just met Steelbeak for the first time.. again, and Beaky clearly beat the every loving shit out of him as he’s heavily bruised, and took the papers on Solgelo’s Circuit with him

And Gene called to tell them he was being kidnapped as the Blot, now with a fully functioning gauntlet got to him. So to sum it up F.O.W.L. in one night, took all the missing mysteries they’d gathered or found, beat one of their most trusted allies and made their new security system worthless. 

It was an utterly masterful story move: Firmly tying both plots together and confirming FOWL has SOMETHING bigger they want out of them. Some bigger plan, and as the last two weeks proved already knew where they were. Now it’s open war F.O.W.L.’s taken the first shot and hit hard. 

But Scrooge, now with his confidence restored thanks to Louie, instead of backing down, is galvanized: They’ve lost the mysteries they have but if F.O.W.L. wants the rest, their going to have to beat the greatest family of adventurers the world, and probably the multiverse if we’re being honest and yes that includes other versions of this family, has ever known to them first. Sneaking in the shadows, attacking them from behind, striking them while they were at their most vunerable? FOWL was in their element and won this round because of it. But now adventuring, traveling the world, finding rare artifacts lost to time? Now their in the ducks wheelhouse. As Beakly, finally accepting her place in the family and that she’s not alone, proudly states their not ready for them. And so we close on one badass group shot as Dewey tries to lift the sword again only for his siblings to help, minus Louie naturally who still looks on determined. Our heroes have been through their dark night of the soul, they’ve lost a lot and the villians are miles ahead.. but they’ve also come out of it together, determined, their doubts behind them for now, and FOWL firmly in their sights. They won the battle.. but the war’s far from over. Game on. 

Final Thoughts. 

God this was a good one, as you could probably tell from the way I went on and on about it but this was one of the series best.. and while I say that a lot, mostly because Season 3 has consistently been about them topping themselves again and again, this time it’s etched in stone. I thought this would be a good one but forgetable.. instead it’s easily one of the best dives into the cast, and one of the best bottle episodes i’ve seen, limiting the cast to just our heroes, a handful of cameos and our big bad and letting our heroes be their own worst enemies for most of it. IT’s a great character piece, with plenty of great fluid action set pieces, absolutely heartbreaking character stuff, and a hell of an ending that sets the tone for the final half of the season and possibly the series.  It also shut my mouth about the pacing, because as I hoped, much like season 2 it was slow on purpose: The first half, while also providing vital setup here and there, was also about telling stories they really COULDN’T once the FOWL plot kicked into gear for act 2. Getting trapped in a sitcom, a casual breakin of a gala where Donald meets the love of his life, a trip to tokyolk.. none of this would’ve really worked with Fowl at their heels. By taking their time they simply had more time to set the stage so when things kicked up with this act, things could stay intense.. minus the christmas episode but that takes place before these episodes so I don’t really count it. Point is the tone is firmly set, the stakes are high and things are at a level they’ve never been. This is one of the show’s finest and I expect i’ts only going to go higher and higher from here.  Also one last note Bradford, bud.. why did you out Gandra as an agent? You had to have known about the whole Fenton thing, you seem to know everything and a break in to Gyro’s lab would’ve been something Scrooge had to tell you about or you could learn about yourself. They didn’t know she was still evil or working for you or that she was even on their radar. Also related while Steelbeak and Blot’s missions were obvious it was easy to figure out who went where besides them: Heron went under the sea both because she was the odd one out and because Bradford was presumably still mad about the helicopter thing, while Rockerduck obviously took the fountain since he’d been there and knew where it was now it was properly restored.  Next Week: Kidcentric episode and the sabrewing sisters are back! Also while I don’t hate it, Lena’s blueform is simply a super mode.. phew. I mean I don’t dislike it but i’ts not a walk around in public thing. Point is kids teaming up for shenanigans, a mystic sword in the middle of x of swords AND the return of my two faviorite fowl agents. I’m pumped. 

Until then if you like this review there’s more reviews on the pages on my blog including a just finished this weekend review of the original Ducktales 4-parter, Catch as Cash Can. It was a trip. You can find that collected  into a handy series of links HEREEEEEEEEEE. Or if you prefer this series, as I do, you can find last week’s review of Let’s Get Dangerous HERE. If you like this review and want to here my thoughts on say an episode from the first two seasons (which I mostly haven’t covered yet), or another disney show, you can pm me on this very blog to comission an episode, just like one of my fans commissioned me to review catch as cash can. Or you can follow me on my patreon HERE.  Until next week stay safe, vote if your old enough and check your house for Gary Busey! 

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My Heartbeat Shows the Fear (1/4) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: A canon divergent story: Patrick gets into a car accident and it brings the Brewers to town sooner.

Notes: This fic will be posted in 4 chapters, every other day. There is some description of injuries, but nothing too graphic or life-threatening.

The title is from "Overkill" by Colin Hay, which thanks to the show Scrubs puts me in mind of hospitals.

Thank you to Amanita_Fierce for putting so much time and thought into betaing this fic - you made it so, so much better. And thanks also to @high-seas-swan for some helpful suggestions, particularly on that one scene that I tore apart and rewrote.

Rated Teen, this chapter 5278 words. (ao3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1

Patrick drifted into wakefulness like rising from a deep dive to the surface of the water. He became aware first, before even opening his eyes, of David’s arm over his chest and his hand curled protectively around the side of his ribcage. The sheets were soft against his skin and the duvet was a comforting weight over his body and he never wanted to move from this spot. Patrick lifted his own hand and dropped it clumsily over David’s, calloused fingertips tracing gently over David’s knuckles.

“Good morning,” David said in a surprisingly coherent voice for first thing in the morning.

Opening his eyes to see David watching him was an unusual experience. As he blinked sleep out of his eyes, Patrick tried to remember if David had ever woken up before him, and the only occasion he could summon to mind was New Year’s Day, after a night when Patrick had gotten much drunker than David had.

“Why are you awake so early?” Patrick yawned.

David shrugged. “It’s almost eight o’clock; you’re just sleeping later than usual.”

Groaning, Patrick started to sit up. The very energetic sex they’d indulged in last night must’ve really worn him out. “We’ve gotta get up and get started on those vendor pickups.” It was Monday and the store was closed, but they had so many pickups to do this week that they’d grudgingly agreed to do them on their day off, splitting the list in half.

“Mmm, five more minutes,” David said, holding Patrick down with the arm across his chest and shifting closer, their naked bodies coming into closer contact. Patrick closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate that David hadn’t gotten up to put on pajamas last night, his usual routine even now that Patrick had his own apartment. Patrick was starting to suspect that he could read David’s lack of clothes the next morning as a particularly positive review on his performance in bed the night before.

“What are you smiling about?” David asked.

“Last night,” Patrick responded without opening his eyes. They really needed to get up, he thought, but lazing around in bed with David was very tempting.

David made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah, that was, um…” He nuzzled against Patrick’s shoulder. “If that’s what happens after you go on a date with someone else, I’m almost inclined to tell you to do it again.”

Patrick bristled at that. “That’s not funny.”

“Sorry,” David whispered, pressing a supplicating kiss against Patrick’s arm.

“Besides, I bailed partway through the date,” Patrick said.

“Mm. Poor Ken,” David said. “He has no idea what he’s missing out on.”

Patrick frowned, turning onto his side and dislodging David from his chest. “You didn’t expect me to sleep with Ken, did you?”

David opened and closed his mouth. “Not sleep with, no.”

The same queasiness that Patrick had felt last night as he drove to meet Ken rose up in his stomach. “Then, what? A quick handjob in my car?”

David shot him a guilty look. “No,” he said, but then bit his lip. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe something like that. Something that you’ve only experienced with me that you might be… curious about experiencing with another man.”

Patrick sighed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not particularly curious about experiencing stuff like that with other men.”

“Yeah, you said—”

“And if I do become curious, or… or want to … explore with another guy in the future, you and I are going to have to be a lot clearer with each other about what is and isn’t going to happen.”

“Ground rules,” David grumbled.

“Yeah, I guess.” Patrick leaned over and kissed him. “But, David.” He kissed him again. “It’s so good with you. I sort of can’t imagine anyone else not being a huge step down in quality.”

He watched David’s face go on a journey before settling on pleased. “That’s very flattering. But sometimes the point is that it’s a stranger. Or at least, someone you aren’t going to see again.”

Patrick pulled back. “Is that something you want?”

David rolled his eyes, dismissing that idea with a flap of his hand as he looked up at the ceiling. “God no. I had a lifetime’s worth of casual sex.”

Reaching out, Patrick put his hand on David’s cheek, turning his head so that they were looking at each other again. David’s face softened, his eyes gazing into Patrick’s in the way that always made his stomach swoop. Made Patrick want to sink into David’s arms and never let go. “And if that ever changes, will you tell me?”

There was a pause, and then David nodded. “Of course. Will you tell me? If you change your mind?”

Patrick nodded. “I promise.” And then he pulled David closer, kissing him deeper and with more tongue than was probably warranted given their morning breath. For once, David didn’t complain.

After a minute, Patrick had to wrench his mouth away and force himself to sit up. “Okay, if we don’t get up now, I’m going to end up fucking you again.”

David smirked. “What’s so wrong with that?” And then he wiggled his hips and his expression became more thoughtful. “Although I’m still feeling what you did to me last night.”

Patrick winced. They had gone at it pretty hard, he remembered with a mixture of desire and guilt. “Sorry.”

“No, no,” David said. “It was perfect and don’t you dare apologize. Just not sure if I can get fucked again right at this precise moment.”

Patrick whipped the covers off and stood up, ignoring his own visible arousal. “You aren’t going to be. You’re gonna get ready to do the pickups west of town.”

David whined and stuck his bottom lip out. Patrick turned away from him and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor before he was tempted to bite David’s lip, because that way did not lead toward getting their vendor pickups done. “Can you make us some breakfast while I shower?” Patrick called over his shoulder. David’s “ugh fine” reached his ears just as he was closing the bathroom door.

Once he had showered and shaved, Patrick emerged back into the apartment, a towel around his waist. David had pulled on a sweatshirt and drawstring shorts and was in the kitchen making Patrick’s tea. The domesticity of it made something tender and fragile swell in his chest. He loved having David here in his apartment, and he felt a wild desire to just ask David to move in, his resolution to take his time with that step in their relationship be damned. In moments like this, his original idea that he wanted to spend some time living on his own seemed silly. As he pulled on underwear and jeans (glancing over his shoulder to catch David checking out his ass), a t-shirt and a v-neck sweater, he imagined it — David’s clothes in his closet (well, some of them), David’s shoes by the door, his journal on the nightstand, his products finding a permanent home in Patrick’s bathroom rather than lugged back and forth between the motel and the apartment in David’s bag.

“Your mom is texting.”

Startled, Patrick looked over to David, who was pointing at Patrick’s phone on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna shower,” David continued, unaware of the track of Patrick’s thoughts. “Here’s your tea and some toast.”

Patrick walked over and picked up his phone in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.

Mom: Can you call when you get a chance?

Oh yeah, the other reason he wasn’t ready to ask David to move in yet, he thought with a surge of shame. His parents.

Figuring David would be in the bathroom for a while yet, Patrick unlocked his phone and placed the requested call.

“Hi, sweetheart!” his mother said in a chipper voice.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, we were just having breakfast and realizing that we hadn’t heard from you in a while. How are things with you?”

Patrick looked at the closed bathroom door, and then moved over to the other side of the apartment. “Things are good. I’ve got vendor pickups to do today.”

“You work so hard, dear. I hope you are taking some time for yourself too.”

“I am.” He thought about dates with David, or curling up on the bed and watching movies with David, none of which he was ready to talk to his mother about. He knew it was time. It was way past time, but he could never get the words to come out when he was on the phone with his parents. “I went two for four in my last game,” he said. Baseball was always a safe topic.

“That’s great!” his mother said, the enthusiasm she’d always shown for his athletic activities obvious in her voice. “I bet they’re glad to have you on the team.”

“Uh huh. It’s a fun team.” He thought about how easy it was to be out of the closet around them — mentioning his boyfriend as the team drank beers together at the Wobbly Elm after practice, or kissing David after games when he came to watch. It was nice. He wanted that same ease with his family, to be able to mention David in passing as more than just his business partner. He ran a finger along the top of the framed picture on his desk, of him and David on Christmas Eve last year, arms around each other at the Roses’ party. Patrick had a hard time taking his eyes off of David in that photo sometimes, radiant in a silver sweater under the warm Christmas lights.

“Well,” she said, like she was hoping for him to say something else. After a pause in which he didn’t, his mother continued, “I should let you get on with your day.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, guilt churning in his stomach yet again at the fact that he couldn’t just be fucking honest with this mother. That the life he shared with his parents was more gaps than substance. “I’ll call again when I have more time to talk.”

“Okay,” she said, the happiness gone from her voice. He’d done that with his evasiveness, Patrick thought. He’d made his mother sad. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

~*~

David pulled up in front of the store in the Lincoln and pushed on the heavy driver’s door with a grunt. He stood up, his sweatshirt sticking to the small of his back with sweat. The vinyl seats were one of things he hated most about that car, and he hated a lot of things about it. He wasn’t that fond of Patrick’s car either, but at least it had slightly more comfortable seats. In any case, their divided errands had made borrowing Patrick’s car impossible, so he was stuck with the Lincoln.

He unlocked the door to the store and ducked his head in. “Patrick?” he called. Patrick’s car wasn’t out front, but it was possible he’d pulled around to the back to unload. When no one answered, David pulled out his phone and sent off a text: How close are you to getting back? There was no answer, so David assumed Patrick was driving. He opened his text chain with Stevie and texted, Can you come help me at the store for a minute?

Stevie: I’m busy working.

David: You’re not that busy if you’re texting me back.

She didn’t answer. “Fuck,” David whined to no one, resigning himself to having to unload the entire car by himself. This was why splitting up the vendor pickups had been a terrible idea, he thought as he muscled a crate of honey out of the trunk. Now here he was, all alone with very heavy things to carry.

By the time he had all of the new merchandise stacked in the back room, he was drenched with sweat and there was still no sign of Patrick. Well, just for that, he wasn’t going to wait around, David thought churlishly as he locked up and got back in the car. He was going to go take a shower at the motel and Patrick could unload by himself too.

He briefly considered going to Patrick’s apartment to shower; his water pressure was better and David had a couple of changes of clothes there. Plus, he had a key, and Patrick had said that he was welcome to come and go as he pleased. But he also knew that living alone was something that Patrick wanted — it was something he’d never had before, he’d admitted to David on the day he’d signed the lease. He’d gone from his parents’ house to a dorm to apartments with a series of roommates to living with Rachel to rooming with Ray. He’d never had his own place. David understood that and he wanted Patrick to have what he needed, not have David unexpectedly underfoot when he perhaps wasn’t welcome. Still, it didn’t stop his heart from aching a little bit. He wanted to live with Patrick, he’d realized. He had been ready to take that step and Patrick hadn’t been. It stung.

Alexis was doing something on the laptop computer at her little desk when David walked into their shared room, and she looked up at him and wrinkled her nose.

“Ugh, David, what happened to you?” she asked.

Narrowing his eyes, he dropped his bag on the bed. “I was working. What are you talking about?”

“You’re all gross and sweaty,” she replied.

“It’s hot out today, and I had to do a bunch of vendor pickups in that boat of a car and then unload everything into the store by myself because Patrick’s not back yet,” he complained. He collected a change of clothes and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him to punctuate how tough his day had been. Okay, he’d been able to sample some of the new butter cookies that Mrs. Franklin sold through their store, and maybe she’d also given him a glass of lemonade, but still.

After a shower, David felt worlds better, although there was still no reply from Patrick to his text.

“What is taking him so long to get back?” David muttered as he dug through his cedar chest. The sweater he was looking for didn’t appear to be in there, another annoyance in a day of annoyances.

“What’s the matter?” Alexis asked.

David waved at her, his hand flapping at the end of his wrist. “Patrick’s just taking forever to finish his vendor pickups,” he said, trying to ignore the worry beginning to gnaw in his stomach. “It’s fine.”

“I hope you had a talk last night, David,” Alexis said, her eyes not coming up from her laptop. “No more fooling around with anyone outside the relationship until you’ve established some ground rules.”

David whipped around and glared at her. “Can you let that go, please? We’re fine.”

“No thanks to you,” she said.

He suppressed a squawk. “We had a healthy talk about it this morning. We’re fine.”

“Good,” Alexis said.

“Also the sex last night was very hot—”

“David, ew.” She stuck her tongue out. “Don’t tell me that.” But then she sort of half-smiled at him. “I’m glad you guys are okay.”

David smiled back. He was glad too. “He makes me…” David started to say, then thought better of being so vulnerable in front of his sister. But what the hell; she’d been there for him last night when he needed someone. He moved over to his bed and sat down to put on his shoes. “He makes me feel safe. No one’s ever… I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel safe before.”

Alexis, to her credit, didn’t make fun of him, although the squinty smile she gave him made him recoil, grimacing.

“Kids!” his dad called as he barged into the room. “We’re headed over to the café for dinner. Do you want to join us?”

Alexis shook her head. “I’m going over to Ted’s for dinner.”

David picked up his phone and sent another text to Patrick. Are you still not back yet? And then he stared at the screen, waiting to see dots to indicate Patrick was texting back, or at least to see a read receipt. The ball of worry in his stomach grew a little bit bigger.

“David, do you want to come with your mother and me?” Johnny asked.

“I was supposed to eat at Patrick’s,” he said. “But maybe. I don’t know.” He switched apps and called Patrick’s phone, holding it to his ear and listening to it ring and ring and ring. With every ring, he felt his breathing rate tick up.

“Well, we’re going now, so I need you to decide,” Johnny said irritably.

David slapped his phone down on the bedspread and threw his hands up. “Then go without me; it’s fine!”

“David, I’m not going to wait around for a second evening that I’m supposed to spend with Ted while you have another meltdown about—”

“No one’s having a meltdown!” David shouted. “I just don’t know where my boyfriend is!” He looked at the time, feeling queasy. His previous annoyance was gone and now he was just worried. Patrick really should have been back hours ago. He tried calling again.

“David, you need to be a little bit less clingy—” Alexis said.

“Okay, well, we’re going to go,” Johnny said. “You can join us later, if…”

David’s phone vibrated in his hand, and he saw he had a call from an unknown number coming in as he tried to call Patrick. Maybe Patrick’s phone had died and he was calling from someone else’s phone, he thought as he clicked to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this David Rose?” asked a woman in a sharp, business-like tone of voice.

“Yes, who is this?” he snapped.

“This is Cheryl calling from Elmdale Hospital. We’ve got a Patrick Brewer here and he gave us your number as his emergency contact.”

“Oh, God.” There was a rushing noise in his ears and his mouth tasted like bile as he tried to shape it into making useful words. “What happened to him? Is he okay?” David clutched the edge of his bed, feeling dizzy, heart racing.

“There was a car accident and he was brought in by ambulance a little while ago. He’s having some tests done, but I can’t disclose any information about his health to you over the phone. If you come to the hospital—”

David hung up. He imagined Patrick’s car, the car he’d ridden in countless times on their way to movie dates or dinner, speeding through the countryside as Mariah Carey or one of Patrick’s alt-folk bands blasted out of the shitty speakers. Patrick’s car, mangled on a deserted road somewhere, no one around for miles. How long did it take before an ambulance came? How long was he lying there alone, broken and injured by the side of the road?

“David, you’ve gone very pale,” Alexis said.

“Is Patrick all right?” Johnny asked as Moira wandered in.

“John, I’m a bit peckish,” she said. “Are we leaving soon?”

“Patrick was in a car accident,” David said. Everyone’s voices sounded muffled to his ears, even his own. “I need to go to the hospital.” He stood up and looked around for the keys. He didn’t think he’d returned them to his father’s stupid little hook in the other room. Where were they?

There was a flurry of activity and then Alexis was at his side. “I’ll drive.”

David ignored her. He didn’t have time to think about Alexis right now. Where were the fucking keys?

Alexis held up her hand. “I have the keys and I’m driving,” she said, and David spared a moment to be confused about what he’d just thought to himself and what he’d said out loud. “You’re shaking,” she said pointedly. “Put your shoes on and let’s go.”

“Is he all right, David?” his mother asked as David sat back down on the bed and reached for his shoes. His fingers felt numb and clumsy.

“I don’t know.”

He looked up to see his parents exchange a nervous glance.

“I mean, they said they were doing tests. They wouldn’t say that if he was, like…” Dead, his brain supplied, but the word wouldn’t come out of his mouth.

“Shall we accompany you to the hospital, my darling?” Moira asked, grimacing, clearly regretting making the offer even as she did so.

“Nope,” Alexis said, shooing them back into their room. “No need for that. We’ll call you as soon as we know something,” she said firmly. When Alexis used that voice, people often had a hard time arguing, and their parents were no exception this time.

David tied his shoes awkwardly, the bows kind of a mess. Patrick had made fun of him one time about the precise way he tied his shoes. Patrick, who was lying in a hospital bed, injured, alone…

“Come on, David,” Alexis said, taking his arm firmly but kindly. “Have you got your wallet and phone?” He patted his pockets and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

It was normally a forty minute drive to Elmdale, lots of time for David to imagine every possible horrible scenario. Maybe Patrick was in a coma, and would wake up having forgotten who David was, or even that he liked men. Maybe he would be paralyzed. Maybe his face would be horribly scarred. David would love him anyway, he thought, even if he’d been disfigured. All that mattered was that he came through this alive.

“I’m sure he’s okay, David,” Alexis said as if she could hear what was going on inside his head. She needed to stop doing that. It was creepy.

“You don’t know that.”

“His car is boring and probably has airbags and, like, crumple zones or whatever,” she said. “I bet he’s just got a little bonk on the head. The tests are probably just a precaution.”

He sighed, playing out that much more comforting fantasy in his head instead of his dark ones. Patrick would just stroll out of an examining room and David would hug him tight and take him home and everything would be fine.

They arrived at the hospital in only thirty-two minutes, thanks to Alexis’s speedy driving.

He identified himself at the front desk, and the receptionist or whatever she was told him to wait. David inhaled a breath, ready to argue, but Alexis was thanking the woman and dragging him over to the rows of chairs before he could get another word out. His sister perched on one of the plastic chairs and pulled out her phone while David paced back and forth in front of her. Now that they were here, he really just wanted to tear the place apart until he could see Patrick for himself. And hold his hand; he was sure that whatever had happened, Patrick would feel better if David could hold his hand.

“David Rose?” A woman in a white coat stood next to the door that led to the rest of the hospital. He rushed over.

“I’m David Rose,” he said, breathless.

“You’re Patrick Brewer’s…” She consulted the chart she was holding.

“Partner. Can you please tell me what happened? Is he okay?” He could sense Alexis behind him, hovering.

“Well, he got banged up pretty good. Compound fracture of the radius and fracture of the ulna, two cracked ribs, and a concussion. The police said a truck ran a stoplight and hit his car broadside.”

David thought it was wildly inappropriate that she would expect him to remember what bones were named at a time like this. “The radius is…?”

She gestured to her forearm. “Arm bones. As is often the case with this sort of impact injury, both bones in the forearm were broken.”

Wincing, David asked, “Can I see him, please?”

“Not yet; he was taken into surgery a little while ago to stabilize the arm. It has to be operated on right away because there’s a risk of infection when the bone is exposed.”

The next thing David was aware of was Alexis guiding him down into a chair. “Okay, just lean over and put your head between your knees,” she said while David tried to figure out why his vision was narrowing. He felt sweaty. Alexis disappeared for a minute, but he could hear her voice, off to the left somewhere. Also that doctor, the one who said Patrick’s arm was…

David fought the urge to throw up. It would be embarrassing to hurl all over the floor in the waiting room of Elmdale Hospital.

Finally Alexis was back. “Are you gonna pass out?”

“No. I don’t think so.” He lifted his head. “What did she say after the thing about his…”

“Bone sticking out?” Alexis asked unhelpfully. David put his head in his hands. “That they did a CT scan prior to surgery and that he was alert but concussed. You’ll be able to see him once he wakes up from the anesthesia. And they’ll have a better idea tomorrow how long he’ll need to be in the hospital.” She rubbed his back. “Do you want me to get you a cup of tea?”

David nodded. “I can’t believe this happened. Just like that.”

“Yeah, I’d like to get my hands on the driver of that truck,” Alexis said fiercely, and David couldn’t help but agree. He wasn’t a violent person, as a rule, but he’d make an exception just this once. Or he’d let Alexis have at him.

“He’s gonna be okay, though, right?” David asked, not liking the pleading edge in his voice.

Alexis was still rubbing his back, and she pressed her cheek against his arm for a second. “He’s gonna be okay, David.”

He startled, a thought occurring to him suddenly, and he fumbled for his phone. “I need to call his parents.”

“You have his parents’ phone number?” Alexis asked with a grin.

“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never called them, but I was starting to think about…” He sighed. He hadn’t wanted to tell Alexis about this until much closer to the event. “Patrick’s birthday is coming up in a few months and I was thinking about inviting his parents to a surprise party,” he said as he pulled out his phone.

“David, that’s so cute,” she said with a pout.

“So I managed to use Patrick’s thumbprint to unlock his phone when he was dead asleep one night and I put their numbers into my phone in preparation for inviting them,” he said as he scrolled through his contacts. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad; they can’t keep a secret,” he said as he pressed the button to call Marcy Brewer.

He’d only spoken to Patrick’s mother a couple of times, when she’d called the store after being unable to reach Patrick on his mobile phone. He’d handed the phone over to Patrick quickly after some brief pleasantries, but he’d gotten the impression of a friendly woman. Just the sort of person he’d expect to have raised Patrick Brewer.

“Hello,” came the maternal voice down the phone line as Alexis stood up, flopping her wrists towards her mouth. When he shook his head in confusion at her, she stuck out her pinky, miming sipping, before walking away. Right, she was going to get tea.

“Hi, Mrs. Brewer, this is David Rose calling.”

“Oh, David! How are you?”

“Um, well, not great. I’m sorry to have to call you like this, and let me start by saying Patrick is going to be fine…”

“Oh, dear. This is like the phone calls I used to get from his coaches,” she said, sounding surprisingly calm. “What happened?”

“He was in a car accident this afternoon and he’s in the hospital.” David felt tears pressing behind his eyes, and he ruthlessly swallowed them down. “I haven’t been able to see him yet, but they said his arm is broken. Also some ribs.” He decided to stop there, if for no other reason than he didn’t think he could go into more detail without needing to put his head between his knees again.

“Oh, my sweet Patrick,” Marcy gasped, sounding much less calm. “Why haven’t you been able to see him?”

“They’re… um… operating on his arm.” He braced his elbows on his knees. “It was a bad fracture.”

“Okay,” she said, back to sounding calm. “Clint and I will come there. We’ll be there in the morning.”

David wasn’t sure exactly where the Brewers lived, but he thought it was pretty far, and it sounded like she was implying that they would drive all night. “Maybe you should get some rest and leave in the morning?”

“As if I’d be able to sleep tonight, worrying about my boy,” she said. “He’s all alone there,” she said.

Frowning, David said, “I’ll be here. And my sister Alexis is here.” He wondered why she’d put it that way. Surely she didn’t think David would leave the hospital tonight, did she?

“That’s very sweet of you, David,” Marcy said. “I’ll let you know when we get into town, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” David said, off-kilter from the conversation. His eyes fixed on a stack of pamphlets on the table next to him, where a smiling woman was entirely too happy about routine colonoscopies. “It’s Elmdale Hospital,” he told Marcy.

“Thanks, David. If you see Patrick tonight, please let him know we’re on our way.”

When a nurse finally came to tell them that Patrick was out of recovery, Alexis had fallen asleep across his lap and David had read the entire pamphlet about colonoscopies (and all of the other pamphlets within reach) front to back. He shook Alexis awake and bolted up from the uncomfortable chair, not looking back to see if Alexis was following.

The first thing he noticed were the cuts on Patrick’s face. They weren’t large; probably not worth mentioning in the context of his other injuries. Just tiny knicks in his forehead and left cheek from bits of glass, David assumed. But tears still welled up in David’s eyes when he saw those angry little cuts. Patrick looked like he was sleeping, his arm bandaged and immobilized within a plastic splint contraption.

“Why don’t they put a cast on his arm?” Alexis asked as David went to sit next to the bed.

The nurse who was fiddling with one of the machines in the room looked up. “They will once they’ve made certain there’s no infection.”

Patrick opened his eyes and his face cracked into a sloppy smile. “It’s David!” he slurred, then he turned to the nurse. “David is my very handsome boyfriend who’s very handsome. See, I told you.”

Alexis snorted, covering her mouth, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“What’s wrong with him?” David asked.

The nurse smiled. “He just came out from under general anesthesia. He’s been talking about you a lot.”

“Flying pretty high, Patrick?” Alexis asked with a smirk. She pulled out her phone and held it up.

“Put that away,” David snapped.

Patrick squinted at her like he couldn’t quite focus on someone that far away. “Hi, Alexis,” he said. “Thanks for coming to visit me in the hospital.” Then his head swung around to David again. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” David said around a lump in his throat. “I was worried about you.”

Patrick’s smile fell. “David?”

“Yes, honey?”

“I think I’m gonna puke.”

Chapter 2

[lyricfrost13]

BNHA/Naruto reincarnation au

Ok ok so the trope is that one character is reincarnated into another world, either as another character or as a new insert in the world right?  I had a kind of cracky idea for this one.  

It’s a bit long but basically a ton of characters from My Hero die during the War arc and are reincarnated as Naruto characters, which changes canon timeline but not a ton at first because they all think they’re the only one. Like, literally Minato is All Might, Aizawa is Kakashi - Team 7 is Izuku (Naruto - trust me I know it’s weird, but nearly-adult Izuku in a child’s body is here to cause problems on purpose), Bakugou (Sakura - the temper and eventually the ability to smash boulders? Yes. I know Naruto and Sakura could be flipped but I have Reasons), and Todoroki (Sasuke - evil older brother, fire stuff, kinda stoic) - there’s more under the cut because I don’t have the energy to write an actual entire fic but I need to put it down. Maybe at some point I’ll write the rest. 

Yagi thought it was a dream for a while.  Thought it was a nightmare, some days - but being Namikaze Minato was oddly satisfying in that he earned every bit of his power along the way.  He was proud of it, the strength and speed and intellect. The only person he ever told about his old world was Kushina - and she believed him.  His heart ached when his team fought and died and fought more - he tried to reach Kakashi in his grief, but the boy wasn’t happy. 

Aizawa doesn’t tell a soul that he’s someone else, that he’s a fraud, not a genius.  He doesn’t dare make a friend in Obito or Rin, still aching because all he can think is Mic and Oboro and his fucking class all gone.  Minato’s sunny smiles in the midst of being a deadly destroyer of armies makes him think of All Might and Izuku, the heroes, the best of them.  It hurts when it’s all taken away, and he uses his knowledge of how not to strain eye-related powers to cover his Sharingan when not in use and dives into ANBU to avoid thinking too hard about everything. 

Touya aches. He’s a genius of his clan, blew his first fireball so hot that it charred his throat for a week and glowed blue-white instead of red. This world doesn’t leave him burned beyond repair, and killing isn’t what makes a villain - but he still becomes one, for his little brother’s sake, because while Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto are gone, he still has Sasuke. (Another suicide mission fueled by revenge - only this time it’s him that has to die in the end, not his father.)  Itachi’s new flames are black, not blue.

Hawks is tired of lies.  So tired of being loyal to a system that’s full of false promises.  He might be a shark instead of a bird now, but he still flies the coop and joins up with a group that comfortably reminds him of the League. 

Izuku grieves everyone - of course he does - in the quiet of his little apartment. He’s reminded again and again of the fact that he’s different for whatever reason.  This time, instead of crying, he shouts - he laughs - he pranks the shit out of everyone to just be noticed for something that’s actually under his control.  If he can’t be the #1 hero, then dammit he’ll be Hokage - the strongest leader he can manage to be. 

Katsuki doesn’t know what the fuck to do. One, he’s become a girl - gender didn’t really matter all that much to him compared to strength and intelligence before, but it was still weird. What frustrated her more was his lack of quirk - explosions had defined Bakugou for so long that frankly, she was still going to research Iwa’s explosion corps and do something about that to add to her repertoire. Somewhere along the line Ino attached to her like the limpet Kirishima and Mina always had - getting up in her personal space without caring one way or another, understanding when she refused to speak, encouraging her temper every once in a while. The one annoying thing is that Ino interpreted her need to get stronger than the current projected Rookie of the Year as a crush.  Which - no. Sasuke was objectively good looking for a kid, but he was also intellectually a hell of a lot younger than Katsuki-Sakura, and he always uncomfortably reminded her of Todoroki. 

Shouto thrives at first - glad not to be the only one with expectations, even if he winces at the idea of an older brother shouldering so much responsibility.  He lives for having an older brother to look up to, to get close to.  He’s a little miffed that his clan’s specialty is fire-based, but hey, at least his father doesn’t expect him to be his successor - until he does. Until Itachi starts going on more and more missions, poking his forehead and saying “Another time, little brother,” more and more often. And then the massacre happens, and Sasuke wonders why he ever trusted that things would be so stable and ok.  He’s going to get strong, drag Itachi kicking and screaming back to Konoha, and rip his eyes out so he never does that again.

...

Kakashi is late again. Sasuke was more irritable than usual - after Wave, their sensei had promised to help him learn the Ice Release that Haku had done, and he’d really wanted to have that in his arsenal to have something more familiar. Sakura and Naruto had begun sparring in their boredom, and in the middle of it, Naruto slipped and hit one of Sakura’s sore spots from the mission.  She snarled.  

“Fucking deku, what the hell!” she said.  

Naruto yelped and fell forward, following through too far on a punch, eyes wide.  Sasuke stared, blinking.  

“Interesting,” said Kakashi’s voice behind them.  Sasuke was staring at Sakura in shock, and Naruto looked like he was staring at a ghost.  Sakura’s cheeks were turning pink. 

“What are you looking at me like that for?!” she demanded.  

“Problem children,” Kakashi said.  All three faces whipped to face him, mouths gaping, eyes wide. 

“ . . . Aizawa-sensei?” asked Shouto quietly. 

“What?” demanded Bakugou.  “All of us?  Who the fuck are-Icy-hot? Deku?” 

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s expression on Naruto’s features was - well.  Kakashi cursed inwardly - had things gone well, fuck, he’d be the kid’s older brother figure.  This wouldn’t have gone this far.  But the elation of not being alone was too much, even with that sting of he was right in front of me and I did nothing.  

“If we’re all back here,” Sasuke said quietly, “Who else might be?”

“Well, this changes things for us, but not for anyone else,” Kakashi explained.  “As far as the world knows, we’re the same as we’ve always been.  However, you studying Iwa explosion tactics and you wanting to learn ice release jutsus makes a lot more sense now.”

. . . 

Gaara had always had it in him to destroy.  From dust to sand to death - it was all the same.  The Ichibi raging against a jagged seal had only exacerbated an already damaged mind, one that couldn’t handle the empty space where All for One used to be. Instead stood rage.  

Yashamaru had helped, for a while. Gaara had almost even considered telling his greatest secret to his siblings - that he was once a terrible monster of a human, Shigaraki - but his uncle’s death shattered that thought quite thoroughly.  That was all it took to turn him once again into a monster, until a kid with another tailed beast inside him raged against his pain hard enough to scrape at his most protected secret: He didn’t want to be a monster or a villain. 

Naruto had that blinding smile as he fought he’d only seen a few times before - on Midoriya Izuku. 

. . . 

When Itachi next faced Sasuke, he had expected pain and rage. 

Instead, his little brother created a prison of ice mirrors, Sharingan flashing as he finished the sequence of signs.  His teammates screamed from outside the dome, and Itachi grimaced as he readied a stance - when had Sasuke learned anything about ice?  Why would he - 

“You’re going to give me answers, aniki,” he said.  “One of which is this: Touya, what the hell?”

Itachi stared.  And stared.  

“You-Shouto?”

“Apologies for not having the hair dye remover and livestream set up, but yes,” he replied.  

. . . 

Shikamaru was . . . well.  He wasn’t an idiot.  Talking about reincarnation and heroes and another life was a way to get a trip to T&I and never leave.  It didn’t mean he didn’t use his skills - Aizawa would be proud of how lazy his son had gotten in his next life, he bet. 

So when he saw Team Seven act a lot differently at the beginning of the chunin exams than he recalled, he was on high alert to find out what was going on. Naruto had learned some level of volume control, Sakura had tempered whatever her issue with Sasuke was, and Sasuke had - not softened, but definitely cooled off.  Seemed more attentive to his teammates. 

And Kakashi had certainly become more present, if the way they were presenting themselves with high-quality gear was any indication.  

Chunin Exams, Sports Festival - didn’t matter, he was still going to prove himself. No matter the fact he didn’t have his quirk anymore, he still kept asking questions. 

“Hey, Sakura.  Naruto. Sasuke. You ready for this?”

“We’re going to pass,” Sakura said. “No other option.”  He raised a brow. 

“You sure about that?”

“Sakura-chan said it, so she means it,” said Naruto.  Sasuke nodded. 

“What about you and your team?”

“Well, it’d be a drag to take the exam again. Guess I’ve got to get the promotion now,” he sad, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Gotta scope out the competition - I’m not here to make friends.” 

All three stiffened, and Naruto’s eyes lit up.  

“Shinsou!” 

Shikamaru spluttered. 

“Wh-what?!”

“You’re not the only one,” said Sakura immediately.  “Shoulda figured, eyebags. Would have thought Aizawa would be a Nara too, but it still fits.” Shikamaru was, of course, reeling.  

“Aizawa’s here?!  Wait, who are you three, then, if you know?”

“I’m Deku,” said Naruto, and yeah, that tracked.  

“Who the fuck else?” asked Sakura, and yep, her temper and Bakugou’s were just about the same amount of hair-trigger.  Which left - 

“And you’re Todoroki,” he said.  Sasuke nodded. 

“Kakashi’s Aizawa.  He’s gonna be really glad that you’re here, Shinsou. Talk to him when you get the chance.”

. . .

“You might be a monster, but so am I,” Naruto insisted as Gaara’s wild gaze turned on him. 

“No, no, I was born a monster,” Gaara insisted. “I destroyed everything I touched, it all was decay, I ended a world -”

Oh. Oh. 

“And All for One’s gone now,” he said. 

The Ichibi’s form flickered, and the sand surrounding the boy flailed whiplike and dangerous. 

. . . 

Naruto entered the seal and frowned.  It - his body, his spirit felt different. Somewhere between Naruto and Izuku. The mindscape shimmered, and a blond figure stepped forward - the First Hokage. But another step forward, and he shifted into someone else equally, no, more familiar. Naruto choked. 

“All Might?!” he gasped. “You’re the Fourth?  But - how - how is this?” he was helpless for words. Minato stiffened, staring at how the spirit before him shifted back and forth between a young man with whisker marks and blue eyes and a mop of green fluffy hair. 

“Izuku? You’re Naruto?” he asked quietly. His son nodded vigorously. 

“It seems I’ve bestowed quite the power and burden on you twice over,” he mused.  “Come here.  It’s not every day a father gets to see his son for the first time in over a decade,” he said, arms open.  Naruto blinked.  

“My - my father?”

“Yes,” he said with a sad smile. “I only ever told your mother about my past life. She even believed me!” 

Izuku-Naruto stumbled forward and sobbed into Minato-Yagi’s shoulder, clutching him tightly.  

“It’s not just us,” he said, “Aizawa and Todoroki and Kacchan and Shinsou and - there’s more out there, I’m sure of it. Not everyone, but more. And I’m going to save them all this time.” 

Minato smiled. 

[gacy-lajla]

Jeon Jungkook X Reader || False Alarm

Genre: Love Alarm!AU, it’s not really fluff or angst just a lot of frustration and misunderstandings??

Warnings: mild use of foul language, probably a lot of errors because I never proofread I’m sorry

Word count: 2,413

Summary: Love Alarm is a brand new app and will contact you if someone in a 10 metre radius fell for you – given they have the app, too. You didn't download it for personal reasons and when you meet one of the schools heartthrobs he cannot stop and wonder why his alarm didn't go off when you locked eyes. But would it even do so if you downloaded the app?

You two locked eyes across the hallway, it was hard to block out the constant ringing of his Love Alarm going off as students passed him by, here and there other people received a notification as well, checking it quickly if perhaps by any chance Jungkook was a match.

Offering a small smile as the boy didn't look away you continued moving again, passing him by as you couldn't wait and finally leave this place filled with lovesick puppies. Stepping out of the building the atmosphere didn't seem to change for one bit, the occasional ringing to be heard and longing gazes were thrown around as students hoped for their crushes to pass them by and possibly alerting their mobile devices. Here and there you saw students just minding their business which made you feel not totally out of place, which was nice to see.

Leaving school grounds you finally seemed to escape the madness of people longing for love – and now that you were sure there was a very low possibility of someone calling your name you pulled out your headphone. Plugging it in you were about to blend out the outside world and dive into your very own but a quite large hand on your shoulder made your reflexes kick in and in one quick and swift movement you escaped the touch and faced the person to evaluate the situation. To your surprise you were face to face with heartthrob Jeon Jungkook – who you noticed staring at his phone right after you turned around. Your eyes narrowed slightly and you tried to read his facial expression, but as expected nothing would break his flawless facade. Seconds went by without a word uttered and he finally thought it would be a good idea to look at you after startling you like this. You were worried his oh-so-perfect eyes might have been glued to his phone for forever.

But still, none of you said something. You were about to ask him what he wanted but stopped yourself after noticing the smallest change in his face. His eyebrows seemed to have drawn closer, an uncharacteristic frown having formed as he looked you up and down. Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze you crossed your arms protectively over your chest and your gaze hardened.

“Is there a problem?”

No reaction. Of course, why would someone so popular speak to someone like you, after all? Didn't he have somewhere better to be? As you were about to turn around he took a step forward, the hand grasping his phone coming closer to you and you took a cautious step back. What the hell was his problem?

“Why isn't my Love Alarm notifying me about you?”, he asked, and never really having talked with him his tone threw you off a little. He sounded genuinely confused. Given that his alarm always went haywire, no matter the other persons gender, you kind of understood his confusion but at the same time he seemed like one of the most narcissistic people you have ever met.

“Do you just expect everyone to love you?”

This seems to have hit a nerve and he backed off a little, your shoulders relaxed as a result but your arms remained crossed. You could see the gears in his head turning, trying to process what you had just said.

“I mean... it kind of always-”

“Dude, I understand that your ego can't take this so lightly but I really want to go home and not deal with this right now so if you could just-”

“Hey, that was fucking rude, I just asked you a question – I guess the alarm not going off really means you hate me, then!”

Your eyes widened at his loud words and your shoulders tensed once more.

“Just because your stupid alarm didn't go off it doesn't mean someone hates you, it just means they don't love you romantically! I don't see what the big deal is, Jeon, so could you please leave me alone?”

Not saying another word after the exchange you put on your headphones and walked off, not wanting to deal with this unnecessary argument any more. Honestly, what was wrong with this guy? Was he so spoiled that he really didn't understand the concept of not everyone wanting to kiss his feet the moment they meet him? He really must've been fed with a silver spoon all of his life if that was true. Or maybe this app just failed in its purpose – there were quite some flaws, the biggest being that people would only rely on it to know if someone loved you. It was kind of measuring the worth of hoping for a relationship. If it didn't go off after the first meeting, why bother trying?

“This is so stupid, love isn't something that happens on a first glance. Attraction, sure, but this – this is ridiculous!”, you mumbled angrily, your footwork being more intense than usual, your pace much faster. You could feel your heartbeat so you tried to calm yourself, taking a deep breath. This wasn't your problem, you didn't have the app so you wouldn't have to deal with all of this. Not that you were interested, really.

A few days passed, the weekend successfully isolating you from the majority of the school you went to. Only a few familiar faces popped up here and there, but nothing too engaging. But soon enough Monday rolled around again and you tiredly slumped against your desk, not having slept enough the night before. You still had around ten minutes before the first class would start so you chatted with your friends.

“Isn't Woosung coming today? He never misses his classes.”

The question made you lift your head and look over at your friends, one of them turning theirs away embarrassedly, visibly turning pink.

“I don't think he is, we kind of... got into an argument? I don't know. We met up yesterday at an cafe and made a bet on whose love alarm would go off first when we download it and, uh-”, there was a brief pause when they looked around to make sure nobody was listening before leaning in, “Mine kinda may have gone off first and it mayhap could have been him who made it go 'bling bling', if you know what I mean and then he just excused himself and left-”

“It did what?”

“Woosung likes you?”

“Did you talk with him after the incident?”, you piped up quietly. Embarrassed they rubbed their neck.

“I don't really know what I should write him. 'Thank you for liking me'? I don't even know if I feel the same way about him and it was just a game-”

“But his feelings aren't a game for him. You should try and talk to him, tell him you need time to figure this out, at least.”

“Right.”

After that the conversation died down and not much later the first class started, the rest off the day passing by rather quickly and you soon found yourself on the campus again, swiping out your phone to shoot Woosung a quick message, asking him if he was alright. You worried a little for him but you were also sure that he'd get back up quickly again. Before you could pocked your mobile device away again you were met with three bodies aimed in your direction. The figures were lean and you groaned internally. Curse people who were taller than you.

“Can we talk?”

You looked up at the person who spoke, immediately recognizing him as one of the hot topics at this school, a friend of Jungkook. You weren't that busy but you also didn't want to speak with them, not knowing what this would be about, maybe a Love Alarm thing again and they also didn't understand why it wouldn't react with you being in close proximity. But then again, you were really bad at saying no when you didn't see a visible threat and people were around to witness.

“Sure”, you said, shrugging, nervously holding your phone tighter. You looked to the other two to identify them, you weren't entirely sure but you'd guess that before you were Jin, Jimin and Taehyung. The one that spoke to you actually had pretty broad shoulders which was almost scary. What did his parents feed him?

“It's not really our matter what happened between you and Jungkook, but we have to deal with him and his reaction now, so we wanted to talk with you about what occurred last Friday”, the smallest of the group said, his face not telling you much about his emotions, except for a small pout.

“You're right, it's none of your business and I don't see what there needs to be talked about. His alarm didn't ring, so what? So didn't yours or anyone's when I'm around, it should just be an indicator that I am not romantically invested in anyone.” You talked in a steady and calm matter, not wanting to make this into some big conflict you didn't want to be part of. But your plans had to be crushed when the last one of the boys spoke up – definitely emotionally more invested about this than the other two.

“That didn't mean you have to tell him that you hate him! That was totally rude and uncalled for, our Kookie doesn't deserve this, we want you to apologise!” At his loud and deep voice you took a cautious step back, your heart racing which you tried to mask with a neutral expression, but your tense body gave away your anxiousness. His two friends tried to calm him down a little by placing their hands on his back, whispered words were being exchanged while you thought of the quickest way to get out of this situation. You didn't have to talk to somebody accusing you of things you didn't do, right?

Just as you were about to take a step towards the gate you felt a hand on your shoulder, a strong feeling of deja vu washing over you. Reflexes kicking in quicker than your brain could take anything in you slapped the hand away quite harshly.

“Don't touch me!”

Surprised at your own volume you only dared to stare at the ground, three pairs of shoes visible before you turned around once more, determined to leave. Even when you heard voices asking you to wait you didn't falter. Asking you to apologise for something you didn't do was already a hot take but them touching you without permission, even when it only was your shoulder, was the last straw. Had they used their voices first, maybe you would've stayed, but this act of dominance, wanting to turn you around by physical contact, that is something you were taught not to accept that easily.

The next day went by just as fast, Woosung, after some texts, seemed to have brightened up and actually showed up again. He still seemed a little stiff with your other friend around but he also knew that he didn't want to lose this friendship with them, which they were grateful for. You on the other hand still had your thoughts set on the fiasco from the day before. It was weird how an app could complicate things so much. And you didn't even install it once.

What made you more nervous was the fact that you had classes with Jungkook today. You really didn't like seeing his face around any more. How could he tell his friends the lies about you hating somebody you barely knew? You just knew that he was the hot stuff to other people around you, which you couldn't deny – he was attractive. But there was nothing in your brain that told you 'oh, I wish I could be in a relationship with you so, so bad'. And to your brain he was nothing more than something nice to look at from time to time.

Which you didn't notice, because you don't take note of a lot of people, is that you shared that same class with one of the guys you met the other day. Taking a deep breath the moment you noticed them you rushed to your seat. You didn't even have time to hope for peace and quiet because they were already by your side. Course breaks, for once, because you really were getting sick of this.

“Look, I'm not going to apologise for something I didn't do – I never said I hated you, that's something you assumed beca-” You couldn't finish your sentence, you would've hadn't it been for the words that left Jungkook.

“I'm sorry.”

“Huh?” You looked up at him from your seat, confused as if he'd just grown a third eye. You waited for him to continue, because it looked like he wanted to say something more. It took quite the nudge from his friend who you recognised as the one who raised his voice at you.

“I'm sorry about assuming things I shouldn't have. It was wrong of me. And I'm sorry for bothering you with all this because of the app. And for telling my friends things about you that weren't true.”

His whole manner seemed a lot more stiff than you were used to, his voice wavering at some points.

“Apology accepted, I'm also sorry for probably sounding a lot ruder than I needed to be.”

“I'm also sorry for... yelling at you yesterday. It wasn't my place to do so, I just don't like to see my friends getting hurt so I lost my temper, sorry.” You were surprised at – Taehyung? - also speaking up, but you appreciated it. It was nice to see people learn from their mistakes.

“It's alright, I understand why you did what you did.” You paused, thinking about telling Jungkook that you didn't even have Love Alarm, but the setting seemed too out of place. Maybe another time, you were just glad that this situation was now solved.

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

Part 15!

Here’s part 14- but you can catch the rest of the story in the fate and fortune tag!

Moots: welcome to the weekend @fyre23 and @risottoneroo

“It’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” She mused at Jotaro as they gazed out at the underwater scene passing them by.

Those aquamarine eyes stared with a hidden fascination that she had to admire herself- the harsh outer corners of his eyes softening just enough to not look angry for once.

“What were your study plans post- graduation?”

She couldn’t help but scoff- she jumped through hoops for her benefactor currently on the phone with his wife who turned out to be somewhat of a crouching moron, hidden badass. Her grades allowed her to probably do what she wanted but she was honestly clueless- perhaps she’d join the science scene JUST to piss off the men that told her she couldn’t. And maybe devise more of a theory on stand fever but she’d never dare bring that last one up in conversation. “If I’m being spiteful- science. If I walk out of this-“

“When.”

Her gaze moved up to meet his gaze- his eyes very sternly looking down at her. “WHEN we walk out of this and I’ve had my revenge and I mellow out I’ll probably go do something like physical therapy or something.”

The corners Jotaro’s mouth twitched up slightly. “Why?”

“Because I want to be able to stretch out my previously torn Achilles’ tendons on my own- what can I say?” She laughed at her own answer but was quickly shushed by Avdol holding a finger to his lips behind them.

Vera nodded in acknowledgement and moved over to pester Kakyoin by leaning over his shoulder as he knelt down at the fridge. “Hello Vera.” She handed her a Cola which was enough incentive for her to move along to sit beside Polnareff.

She listened intently to the conversation- trying to scrap together how Holly was doing in Japan. Turning to Avdol she whispered the question- “Was I also sick for 50 days?”

He only shook his head as Mr Joestar hung up the phone and sat down at the table. “Don’t you think it would have been better for Holy to have had someone who survived the fever at her side?”

Polnareff posed the question but she had to turn up the sarcasm. “Geez Polnareff, if you didn’t want me on the journey with you guys you could have just said so- learn to PROPERLY use a medical kit and all.”

He turned blood red to his collarbones in embarrassment- “I didn’t mean it like that at all- I just-“

“She’s pulling your leg, Polnareff.” Avdol interjected as he folded his arms in front of him. “Besides- stand fevers can vary but Vera’s was probably the shortest but most intense I had seen in many years.”

“Oh? Care to share?” She propped her head on her folded hands and her elbows on the table. “I have very little memory of the whole ordeal.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “None?”

“I mean I recall feeling I was burning alive but that’s old news.”

Avdol’s eyes often turned very dark when he was reminiscing in dark memories- she speculated he was not thinking of the emotions tied to the memories. A PTSD trick perhaps?

“Vera, you were in and out of consciousness for 3 weeks without reprieve. When your heartbeat and breathing became week I caved and dipped you ice baths in an attempt to cool down the fever long enough for your body to heal- head and all. I would however sometimes find you out of bed gasping for- well usually- water, other times you made it just to the bathroom to stick your head under the water. You remember none of it?”

“Avdol, I recall you explaining what was going on with me once and then when I got out of the fever.”

“So you don’t recall sitting up and drinking the juiced food only for you to vomit it up an hour later?”

Her jaw dropped in shock. “I most certainly don’t.”

He shook his head and that dark look in his eyes eased off. “It wasn’t pretty.”

She sat back and crossed her legs- sighing to herself. “No fever for you Jotaro? I know the rest of you were born stand users.”

He only shrugged. “How about you, Mr Joestar? Or was the... Hamon... did I say that right? Enough to keep the symptoms mild?”

“I’m afraid not.” He chuckled- still seeming to be worrying about his daughter.

“I do think your case was strange in the sense that you were hit at a time I suppose that made your resolve weak- the trauma of what Dio had done... I suppose you were convinced that your life was essentially over.”

“Well I pulled through, didn’t I? Or is this just an illusion while I’m still in the stand fever?”

It had at least gotten a laugh from the others before, of course, that jinx on the beach had caught up to her and Mr Joestar’s coffee cup erupted into a stand.

Fortune jumped out to grab the dismantled prosthetic fingers from digging into Mr Joestar’s neck. Sadly, she was too slow to catch the stand itself, though.

“Man, one trip- we couldn’t bring one trip to completion?”

“It’s Midler- the High Priestess.”

She looked back at Avdol as the all backed away from the dials. “Figured out by elimination? Or because you’ve heard of her?”

“Both?” He shrugged. But she didn’t have time to banter now. “Polnareff, may I use you for a bet?”

“Uhhh right now?”

“Yeah- I bet you can guess which dial the stand is. First guess will be the right guess.”

He seemed to click as Fortune’s dials turned and immediately brought Chariot out to let his guess do the work.

They had only gotten one hit in- which was what caused the fucking flooding to start. Their next attempt proved that Midler had learned her lesson- using that speed to steel her stand for impact. “Shit. Anyone else wanna take a swing at it?”

In the confusion they hadn’t noticed the busted surfacing machinery and with an abrupt crash the submarine had met the reef.

“Well- now’s good a time as ever to jump ship, yeah?” Vera had phased into the next room- almost on what felt like instinct which was strange, she only noted as she could hear the others having problems with the door. Did Fortune...? Was that...?

She shook her head and went ahead- to separate the gear Mr Joestar was thankfully insistent on.

They had eventually reached the room she was waiting in but when she saw Jotaro’s hands smearing blood she had to stop herself from panicking- simply sending Fortune to heal him without another word.

Vera got into the equipment- letting Mr Joestar start explaining to the others how they’ll be surfacing while she clicked in and adjusted the straps he couldn’t with one hand.

“I had the perfect hand signal.” Polnareff complained just as she moved back to Avdol- trying to make out if the High Priestess was still advancing on them but the handshake Polnareff and Kakyoin did at one another in unison had Vera question if it really was the redhead she’d been with the whole trip that was budding forearms with Polnareff as they waited for the water to fill the chamber.

“Where did you learn to scuba dive anyway?” Mr Joestar was the one to ask this time. “Oh, an expedition to Greece I had as a field trip about a year ago? You don’t recall paying? I mean I practiced at a facility in Brittain but it was an archeological dive they let me accompany.”

“You can dive at that age?” Kakyoin was the one asking this time. The water had reached just below her chest by now.

“Of course not unsupervised but enough.”

They dipped their heads under the water and as soon as Mr Joestar opened the door out, Polnareff’s regulator proved a problem. It was hard to do but for just a moment Fortune made him cough- the force being just enough to keep the stupid little stand out of his throat so Hierophant and Hermit purple could catch her and yank him out of his mouth.

Vera let Polnareff handle the battle against the harpoon before shutting the door behind him and offering him a breath from her regulator. They gave the okay sign once more before swimming ahead.

30 meters felt like nothing but of course just a measly seven meters the seabed opened its mouth and swallowed them completely. As the usual villains do, she went on a spiel about her greatness and then turned her attention to Jotaro. While she did and while Polnareff was helping him entertain the idea- she simply phased herself out to beside the face where she’d hopefully not be spotted. The face flowed red and seemingly... giggled as she got closer to the surface- the giddiness of being home being a thought that fueled her higher to the surface until the water was illuminated by the sun.

She let go of her tank, goggles and regulator- clipping it off and letting it sink so she was in her own sopping wet clothes. She dipped her head up out of the water- feeling the fresh air hit her face as she watched Midler pace around on the beach. Freaking out about their false flattery like an angry woman on the phone.

“Wait a minute... where’s the girl?”

She was about to call for all her attention with a bold entrance but she soon started to see Midler’s own teeth shatter in her mouth. Vera tiredly lugged herself closer to watch the carnage- sitting down on the rock nearby, only making eye contact with the frantic Midler once before she got knocked down and out.

“What was all that strength you were talking about again?”

Midler narrowed her eyes at her before covering her mouth in pain. The others soon showed up and with a relived sigh Vera took a good look at what she could only describe as a feeling of home. The sun had just started to rise in the east and the sight was one she’d hope to remember until her dying days.

“Welcome home, Vera.”

“Home indeed. Now- we can finally put the fucking sea behind us!”

[moonb-eam]

Hi, sorry if you're already answered it, but i wanted to ask about the dinner at Eliott's castle, when Lucas went to the drawing room to the teleskope and Eliott came to him, can you please tell me (if you want!) what was Eliott thinking? He wanted to say something to Lucas and they were interrupted by Arthur. It's totally okay to not answer, thank you so much for that story! ❤️❤️

hello lovely!! 🌷you’re so sweet thank you!! ☺️

I actually haven’t answered this question before, so let’s dive in!!

It goes like this:

They finish dinner, and decide to play cards.

Eliott doesn’t know where the suggestion comes from, somewhere between Arthur and Herman’s conversation about horribly lost bets, and Daphné’s insistence that she had never lost a hand of cards in her life (which is true), but he’s grateful for the enthusiasm with which the idea is received, because it means that they stay.

It means that Lucas stays. Just a little longer.

Eliott can feel minutes falling from the gaps between his fingers like water, and inevitable end to the storybook night where every smile was shy and every glance was a secret between two people.

Eliott remembers the story only vaguely. Perrault, with a young woman who ventured out her cruel household to a ball. Then, the chiming of midnight, and it all goes away. A dress that turns to tatters. A carriage that turns to a vegetable.

It’s far from midnight still, but Eliott fancies himself the young woman counting down the minutes at her ball. Or maybe he’s the carriage.

He wants to follow them into the drawing room, because he wants to see their faces when Daphné holds her promise to win back any money she lays down, and because he wants to get a spot at the card table where he can be across from Lucas again, and watch the way candlelight caresses his skin.

But he stays behind to help clean from dinner, because the dishes are heavy and the staff must be tired, and because that’s what he always does, whenever they finish a meal. He waves off Daphné with their guests and tries in vain to ignore her when she points at Lucas’ turned back and mouths at Eliott, I like him.

Eliott makes a face at her, picking up another plate.

How could you not?

Clearing the table is usually a quick process, quicker tonight for how distracted Eliott is throughout, thinking of Mr. Savary’s obvious and alarming admiration for Daphné, Mr. Broussard’s keen eyes that seemed to catch every heartfelt look Eliott sent to Lucas that night, and of Lucas himself, and the sweet way he smiled at Eliott over his glass of wine.

It’s likely that Eliott was too obvious in his longing, his heart a phantom weight in his palm, and that was what Mr. Broussard noticed when he stared at him. It’s likely the reason Mr. Broussard was staring at him in the first place. Eliott would be embarrassed by it, if it weren’t for the shrewd grin that accompanied Mr. Broussard’s appraisal, something that was more approving than judgemental.

But perhaps Eliott is overthinking it.

Perhaps he’s overthinking Mr. Broussard’s perception just as he may be overthinking Lucas’ smiles and soft gaze. Just because he didn’t exude any outward ire towards Eliott doesn’t mean that he...

It doesn’t mean that...

(It doesn’t mean that a garden of hope needs to bloom in Eliott’s chest like this.

Yet, it does.

It does.)

“Eliott?”

He started when Madeleine touches his arm.

“Yes? Yes. Um.” He glances around the room. “If that’s the last of the dishes then you can...um.”

“Yes, we’re headed down.” She grins, patting him on the arm. “Best to return to your guests, chéri.”

The glint in her eye makes Eliott want to hide under the dining room table.

Tonight, it seems as though everyone knows.

“I shall...do that,” he says lamely, and he scurried away from Madeleine’s teasing smile, turning towards the drawing room, before he recalls the conversation he had with Mr. Leplein about literature, and how Herman said he had not yet had the chance to read Candide, and Eliott pivots on his heels, heading the opposite direction down the hallway.

He’s certain has a copy of the novel in the smaller drawing room. The study, as he likes to call it, even though it’s more a reading room than anything else.

Eliott has never been one to shy away from lending things out, and he can’t imagine anything that’s better to share than a book. Besides, the copy he’s thinking of is new, purchased to sit on the shelf and be an addition to his library. He has an older copy, one that is well-thumbed with tightly-scrawled notes inked into the margins. It’s the copy Eliott bought for himself after his father died, a delayed act of rebellion for the man who banned any and all Voltaire from the house.

Eliott bought himself a copy in Paris, on a trip to see the family lawyers, and he’d spent that entire night awake in his hotel room, reading in a daze. Then, on the journey home, he read it again. Then, he read it again, with a pot of ink at his side.

There was something about the novel that speaks to Eliott directly - its insouciance, its boldness, its humour, the main character’s journey of disillusionment. It gives him a feeling that someone has looked directly into Eliott’s mind, his heart, and has given him the words they pulled from him, but rearranged them differently so they make sense, so that Eliott can find and be found all in the turn of a page.

This is, at its most basic level, what literature has always done. It’s why Eliott adores it so.

He thinks, that even if Mr. Leplein doesn’t have the same epiphany Eliott does, that he will enjoy the humour in it, and the exciting pacing of events. He seems like a man who appreciates nothing more in the world than a good story.

Eliott stops at the entrance to the study, and as he squints into the dark room, he sees something shift there. A layer to the dim that is thrown into awareness by moonlight. For one wild moment Eliott wonders if he’s being burgled, but then his eyes catch on the slope of the figure’s shoulders, the tilt to their head as they examine the brass telescope in the corner of the room, and Eliott’s heart begins racing for another reason entirely, because he knows it’s him.

Lucas has found the telescope.

(Really, there could never have been any other fate.)

Eliott’s eyes adjust to the darkness, and he can see more of Lucas now. He can trace the slope of his neck and notice how his fingers are clenching in the air, as though they want to close the distance between warm skin and cool brass, but don’t dare to.

Now that he’s here, now that Lucas is seeing the telescope and seeing Eliott’s beating heart in his hand, and extended, the worst thing would be for Lucas not even to use it. Or to touch it.

So Eliott says, “You can touch it, if you want,” and Lucas startles like he’s a rest bird that’s been shaken from its nest.

“You scared me,” Lucas says, and Eliott’s stomach turns when he thinks of the last time those words were said to him, right before his disastrous proposal.

But he does his best to push forward. They’re not they’re, no - they’re here.

He spots the copy of Candide on the small table between the chairs and waves it through the air like a white flag.

“He says he’s never had a chance to read it,” Eliott explains.

Lucas seems to take this in stride, and then he asks, “You wouldn’t mind? If I touched it?”

Would Eliott mind.

He nearly laughs, a hysterical giggle building somewhere deep in his chest, and it would be so simple to tell him then, to say what Lucas has likely already guessed: You don’t even need to ask. It’s yours. It’s always been yours.

Yet there’s a fragile peace building between them, something a Eliott understands is fragile and young. This is Lucas asking, and so he says, without any irony, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Watching Lucas hesitantly reach out, then become more confident as his fingers meet the brass, caressing and travelling and touching so throughly and wondrously makes Eliott’s heart stutter and head swim.

He wonders what it would feel like, to be touched like that. To be touched like that by Lucas.

But watching Lucas fawn over the telescope also tugs in something fond and underneath Eliott’s ribcage. It fills him with something equally wondrous, to watch Lucas be so intrigued by something Eliott was able to give him.

He takes a step closer. “Do you like it?” He asks, at once desperate to know, to hear it, and when Lucas laughs, Eliott can’t help but smile.

“I like it,” Lucas says, and then: “I’m very fond of the stars.”

Eliott thinks of every time he saw Lucas’ head titled back to the sky, every time he saw him inhale the night air as though it keeps him alive, every time he smiled at the mention of a telescope, and he feels himself soften.

“Yes.” He says quietly. “I know.” I know you, he doesn’t say.

He didn’t even realize he’d taken another step forward, and he’s closer to Lucas now than he first thought he was, close enough to see to the depths of his midnight ocean eyes.

In the reaching hand of the moonlight, he looks ethereal. Untouchably beautiful.

Yet somehow, Eliott knows him.

“Lucas,” he says, and he can hear how pained his voice is, straining with the weight of everything that he hasn’t said but is at once desperate to: I know you, It’s always been yours, you can keep it if you like, I love you, I still love you, Do you know what you do to my heart when you smile at me?

And, above all: Do you think you might be beginning to know me? Do you think of me differently now?

Lucas raises his eyes to him, and Eliott’s throat is tight, but he’s opening his mouth again, mortifying honesty dripping from his tongue like too-sweet caramel, and he’s-

“Lucas!”

Eliott leaps to attention as though he’s a boy who’s been caught daydreaming again. The Voltaire drops to the floor with a smack and Eliott’s ears are ringing as he stoops to retrieve it, and he barely manages to take a step away from Lucas before Mr. Broussard is poking his head into the study. When he sees Eliott, then sees Lucas in the room with him, the shrewd smile returns.

It’s still not close to midnight, but Eliott accepts the interruption for what it is, and lets any magic that had been building in the moonlit space between him and Lucas fade to nothing.

Except-

Except there’s Mr. Broussard asking Eliott to join them at their inn, to try some of that famous scotch, and there’s Lucas, saying, “One drink, Mr. Demaury?”

And there’s magic, still.

[transformers-extrication]

Seaspray’s anniversary

Words: 3,129 It’s a special day for Seaspray! Many cheerful memories to be had!... Many... memories...

The Ark’s internal chronometer, adapted to the Earth's cycle, alerted it’s crew to the dawn steadily encroaching their world. A sound beyond human hearing thrummed away in the rooms of those who had not been on any sort of night-guard, rousing their sleeping systems up from a well-earned rest. If you listened carefully you could probably hear the creaks and groans of stiff metal and fibre stretching as various bots got up from their rest and eased their systems into motion. A loud thud echoed from one room as a body hit the floor with unnecessary force. Seaspray was too excited to care that he’d flopped out of bed so unceremoniously, forgetting to put his arms out to cushion the fall. It was a brilliant day for him, as it was every other time this date rolled around. In a quick dive-like motion forward Seaspray flattened his body and pushed with his arms, sending him into a controlled slide across the smooth metal, the automatic door opening for him and letting him out to the Ark’s hallways. Using his arms and short legs Seaspray avoided a head-on collision with any walls and slipped between his fellow Autobots as carefully as possible, disgruntled growls from Ironhide were easily shrugged off. Jazz had organised a schedule for various mechs and Seaspray had already had a lengthy chat with the relaxed senior officer who had been more than fine with allowing the aquatic mech some time off, at least enough to cover the day, something Seaspray always tried to do for this day with varied success (usually depending on who he spoke to, of course). Regardless, he still put aside some time for it no matter his schedule. Getting to the Arks entrance was easy, getting outside wasn’t so. Earth’s surface was so varied and changed on a dime or was a mishmash of textures and bumps. It wasn’t as if Seaspray couldn’t get about on Earth it was just that it felt odd and was often a bit jarring if he was just zooming out the Ark without a care in the universe. Regardless, pushing up with his flat, spread legs along with his arms he moved quicker across Earth's surface in an ungainly looking waddle.

---------------- “Hey! You lookin’ a bit nervous there!” Seaspray jumped with the sudden sound and jerked his head around to the beach. The time was far, far in the distant past, Cybertron was still… alive and bustling. The sun was high in it’s peak of the current solar cycle, and on the beach a very young charcoal-coloured mech lay, optics staring at Seaspray. Equally as young as the tiny figure gazing at him with the type of curiosity only younglings had Seaspray sunk into the water a little bit before mumbling. “N… nothing...” “M’ names Coldseep! I live near here!” The other child seemed somewhat oblivious to Seaspray’s shyness, “Haven’t seen you around before is all!” they chirped. ‘Oh’ Seaspray thought, this was one of those moments his parental units told him about, one where he should really speak up. “I’m Seaspray… I, uh, we just moved here… recently…” He barely emerged from the water anymore, just a pair of optics above its surface. Coldseep immediately burst into excited squeals and thrashed his way into the water, coming to a halt s short distance away from Seaspray, arms in the air. “YAY! New friend! We can see each other every day!” Coldseep practically bobbed up and down in his excitement. Seaspray, however, wasn’t quite at his level of excitement. “I… I dunno” He muttered back, rising out the water a little more, “I live on the water-side… I’m more of a sea-mech” “Oh! Tha’s okay! I’m a submaran! Marin! Dangit!” Coldseep fumbled over his words with a frown deepening on his face plates. “A… A submarine? You’re a Submarine?” Seaspray rose up a bit more, daring to get closer to examine him with a curious optic. “YEAH! Tha’s it! I always mess up the end bit!” Coldseep’s grin could’ve split his face apart. -------------- In the present Seaspray had slowed down to a very slow amble only pausing slightly to watch his own hand press into some sand and sink down. Feeling the loose grains softly envelop his digits before slowly pulling it away and looking fondly at the imprint he left behind. --------------- A much smaller imprint was left in the sands of a newly local shore. Since meeting him Coldseep had come to see Seaspray every day, he was indeed a submarine and joyfully accompanied Seaspray on several swimming excursions. Coldseep would always claim he could make a bubble-ring simply by swimming in a circle fast enough. He never did and would just throw off his balance, even underwater, it was fun though Seaspray often giggled at this antic and promised he’d swim rings inside the bubble when he made it!. Seaspray would point out various local sea life and promised to one day help Coldseep find and see a Warwhale! The two spent so much of their time swimming that it was like a cold slap to the face when Coldseep bounded onto the beach after a dive and ran around, somehow still having the energy to after all their underwater antics. Seaspray came out of the water, but only halfway. “Hey!” Coldseep snapped him out of his moment of silence, “You should come to my place! I can show you some cool shells I found!” “Uh” Seaspray retreated back an inch becoming worried. “Eh? Wha’s wrong? D… don’t you wanna come over?” Coldseep caught his nervous tone and promptly deflated. “No! No! I do!” Seaspray panicked, he didn’t want to upset his first friend of his ‘new life’, or at least that’s what his parental units called it, “I just… I just can’t get out the water…” “Whaaaaaaaaat! Of course you can silly!” Coldseep’s manner flipped like a switch and he returned to grinning. “It’s true! Well, I can barely move when out the water… I hate it… and… and I have to go to the education centre here when it’s b-back open” Seaspray started to sniffle, “An I, I gotta go an… and it’s on land… I don’t” Seaspray flopped to the ground and covered his face, “I’m gonna be a freak! Everyone will laugh!” A long silence ensued between the two children. Seaspray couldn’t bring himself to uncover his face, it only became harder when a weight suddenly pressed upon him. “You’re forgettin’ I go there too! I’ll fight anyone who says meanie-aft things about you! They know I will! It’s how I got sent to the nurse with a bent rotor once!” Coldseep announced with a loud pride that made Seaspray uncurl a little, mostly out of shock at his volume. “Th… thank you” Was all Seaspray could whisper through the tail end of his sniffles. There was a brief silence again. Only this time it got broken by a scream as Coldseep gripped Seaspray’s sides and yanked him out of the water and onto land. Coldseep bellowed with laughter as Seaspray flopped about in a panic trying to get a footing but only wiggling his rear fruitlessly. It took a few more astroseconds of laughter before Coldseep got up and grabbed onto Seaspray. “Hold on buddy, hold on!” Seaspray responded to his words by wrapping his arms around Coldseep’s, “There, not so bad now!”. Seaspray whimpered only just opening his optics to peer around him. “I bet I can help you walk on land just fine! I also totally bet an awesome tub of Energon ice cream that I could even get you running on land too!” Coldseep announced. ---------------- Just like him, brash and loud. Never stood down when he knew he could push on. Seaspray sighed as he clambered over some rocks, nearing the Ocean. He could distinctly remember Coldseep holding his middle and helping him work on his locomotion above water. It still wasn’t graceful but he was able to move on-land with little issue, Seaspray chuckled to himself remembering when the weather turned colder. The ground had gone icy and more compact in various areas, Coldseep had hidden away behind a rock, only to rush him and push him, causing him to slide along the ground. Seaspray allowed himself to let out an actual chuckle, remembering how they had spent entire days sliding around on ice, reaching high speeds, Coldseep often riding on Seasprays back as they whizzed up and down. Tactics he still used to this day, they never failed him. ---------------- The learning room hushed as the one designated to oversee their communal learning held an arm out, presenting another youngster that was to be added to their sector. “This” they announced, “Is Depth Charge. I want you all to welcome them here and make them comfortable”. Depth Charge had blues and purples across his frame and gold accents, yet his red optics scoured the class with cold anger, many of the others in the class avoided their gaze. Coldseep looked over at Seaspray with a cocked optical ridge. “What a nerd” He whispered. “Wha! What do you mean?” Seaspray kept his head ducked down glancing at Coldseep and back to the rest of the room, “He’s scary!” “Nope!” Coldseep grinned, “Watch” The teaching section of the day went quietly, no one really wanted to interact with the angry-looking new kid, but it came to the ‘free’ section of the day. Building bonds with your fellow mech was always a promoted activity, so a good amount of free time to talk and strengthen your social connections even at such a young age was encouraged. Cybertronians are quite social afterall. Coldseep nearly had to drag Seaspray with him to the corner of the yard where Depth Charge sat glaring at everything, but mostly his own pedes. With one last drag Coldseep dropped Seaspray, letting him scuttle behind him to put some distance between himself and the new guy. “Whas’sup nerd?” Coldseep had his hands on his hips and another one of his big grins on his face. “What do you want?” Depth Charge snapped back his optics darting away from the pair so quick they probably should’ve fallen out. “Seaspray here says he’s gonna show me a Warwhale one day!” Coldseep made a slight move to show off the nervously shuffling mech behind him. Depth Charge slowly turned his head around to look at the pair giving a look up and down between the two. “That’s dumb” he grunted, “They don’t live remotely near our waters” “HAH! KNEW IT!” Coldseep suddenly jumped, pointing a triumphant finger at Depth Charge. In response Depth Charge shuffled back and tensed up. “You don’t know anything!” He snapped back. “You’re a neeeeerd” Coldseep lilted, “One of us!” He changed to a chant, “One of us! One of us!” Depth Charge continued to shrink back optics snapping in different directions as if searching for a way out. Seaspray finally managed to pull himself from behind his friend, realising the motion of distress. Closer to him Seaspray had a better view of the panels that spread from Depth Charge’s back. “You’re an aquatic mech too” He uttered. “SO!?” Depth Charge finally snapped his optics down, “Just what my family unit are!” He hissed. “Uh, duh!” Coldseep stopped cheering to roll his optics “So are we! Dum-dum!” A silence fell over their corner and Depth Charge finally seemed to look up and truly take in the pair that stood before him. “Our lot know a lot about sea-stuff! You just have a grumpy face! Plus this is a coastal place!” Coldseep beamed, “Seaspray moved here too! Better suited for us!” Depth Charge seemed to soften up a little bit, which was good because if he got any tenser he looked like he might’ve snapped a few muscle fibres. “Y-yeah” He stammered, “Better than Vos...” “WHOA! You came here all the way from Vos!?” Coldseep immediately glued himself to Depth Charge’s side sitting obnoxiously close to him, “Fliers live there! What was it like? Why’d you move? Isn’t that place super cool!?” Seaspray also moved in, but slower, hoping to appear more normal and less in-your-face than Coldseep who had clearly startled Depth Charge. ------------------------ Seaspray remained perched on a rock looking out at the section of the beach, taking in the salty wind that washed over him. So different from Cybertron, yet, it made him feel more at home. The memories that washed over him with an equally constant flow, his circuits tingled with surges of nostalgia. Depth Charge had moved from Vos due to an altercation at his other learning facility. Apparently he got into frequent trouble with a trio of Seekerlings that also attended that place, he didn’t know their names merely referred to them by colour. The blue one was the oldest, and thought it was funny that he couldn’t fly, only ‘fly’ in water, the red one was the worst, often making snide comments yet able to twist situations to cover his own back, probably, Depth Charge had claimed, to ‘cover’ for how short he was. The purple one was an idiot but tagged along anyway. He’d spotted them teasing another student and tried to defend them, but it didn’t work out and Depth Charge was kicked out for his behaviour. He always lamented not being able to help or protect the other student. “Hmph” Seaspray mused, that was just like Depth Charge. Depth Charge who stood up for them when someone mocked Coldseep’s lively attitude, or Seasprays own awkward gait. The trio almost never left each others side, they were as the humans say ‘thick as thieves’ despite no thievery taking place. It was even Coldseeps idea… he was the one who named them the ‘Sea Seekers’ a trine of the best sea-fairing mechs Cybertron will ever see, or so he’d claim. They were all into it, Depth Charge in his awkward manner had decided to take this as a cue to announce how he’d protect them with his life. Guess that was his way of showing how thankful he was to have them. Protecting others… Seaspray allowed himself a sad flop onto the sand below. Depth Charge always took it personally when he couldn’t defend others… Probably why he was given charge of a peaceful sector that’d refused to take part in the war. Then Rampage came along… The Decepticons unleashed that… thing upon all of Cybertron. It had slaughtered anything in his path… Seaspray curled in slightly, remembering the look on Depth Charge’s face… how hollow he’d become, a hollowness that became filled with hate. He was like a different mech, he scared Seaspray now. Yet, Seaspray refused to leave him they were a trine! Despite Coldseep… they weren’t going to lose each other. They already lost Coldseep, he followed the Decepticons lead. It was odd, Coldseep almost seemed to change into a different mech more and more each time he snuck out to meet them. He’d begged Seaspray and Depth Charge to join him. That Megatron promised to make Cybertron equal for everyone!. It was like Coldseep couldn’t see how Megatron was just taking everything for himself, and merely lived in a fantasy world where all of Megatron's lies were true. It almost broke him when he finally agreed that Megatron wasn’t acting right, he said he was going to leave… he said… It didn’t matter now… Seaspray dragged himself upright and slowly to the Ocean’s edge, the light glittering off it’s surface turning bitter in his mind, churning up bad memories. He tried, oh how he tried, he tried keeping up with Depth Charge after the ‘incident’ but he couldn’t. Depth Charge went to ridiculous lengths to fulfil his desire to fight Rampage. He punched Seaspray when the latter suggested he stop hunting him. Seaspray sucked it up, Depth Charge wouldn’t abandon him if he was in his place! He’d wait until the time was right, until they were ready to accept the help then stand by them all the way! He was all Seaspray had left… his last friend. Then they found Rampage, his trail of destruction easier to follow than initially believed. The fight lasted for barely a few astroseconds, Rampage was too strong for a battalion let alone these two mechs. Depth Charge said he had a plan. Depth Charge told Seaspray to get a head start and he’d join him. Depth Charge lied. Seaspray looked into his reflection in the Ocean, his optics were getting as watery as it’s surface. It was too late. Seaspray didn’t know. Depth Charge had stolen the Energon Destroyer, made by the late scientist Rhinox. He’d taken it and charged Rampage with it. Seaspray didn’t have a chance to react as a Autobot team grabbed him and rushed him away, having discovered the weapon was missing they took Seaspray and fled from the blast. It was like an explosion, but in reverse. The ground broke off in chunks, rising into the air as it crumbled. It was as beautiful as it was vile, the aim of that weapon… horrid. It did its job. Rampage was gone. So was Depth Charge. All that remained was a crater. Tainted by the blast, no life would EVER return to it after such an action. And like that… Seaspray was alone… The water made a quiet sound and Seaspray broke from his minor trance, tears streaking down his face and dropping into the sea. “I miss you guys” he sniffled, lying down and letting the water lap over him and around him. If he pretended hard enough it was as if the two were there, beside him. On the anniversary of them becoming a Trine. --------- Several miles down the beach, a dark and stealthy shape prowled along, looking to the water with a deep longing, yet painful apprehension. Ravage was a Decepticon and never allowed himself to be taken by emotion. Megatron wouldn’t allow that, be it by words, fist or the end of his cannon he would not allow it. Ravage had to be far away from his leader for this… curious emotion to thrum through his damaged Spark with no repercussion. Looking across the landscape he spotted a yellow figure, also at the water's edge. The enemy. THE ENEMY!. Ravage cringed hard, his face plates bunching up as he forced down the raging senseless anger that arose everytime an Autobot neared him. That one. That one was okay. Ravage didn’t know why, but that yellow one was okay. Ravage also had no idea why he felt the compulsion to be here today. Just that for him it held some sort of significance. Settling down to rest Ravage nosed the water, and ignoring the tear that rolled down his face.

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Even If the Waters Rise 1/3

Talked myself into Mermay. But it’s Shadowrun based mermay with (something that resembles) plot. Mermaids are now metahuman, and, boy, do I have the issues with Sea Dragon’s design. It got 6k words on the first chapter.

Also, warnings for the whole planned thing: blood, gore, and violence; cannibalism (human on metahuman); questionable jokes and questionable totem choices; ambiguous relationships; referenced limb loss/cybernetics/etc; mating cycles.

(...)

Later, the deep throbbing bites on his back, shoulders, and neck almost manage to take his mind off the itching under the sleeves, the kind anything but scratching the skin off whole does nothing for. The bites, they should bother him more but feel only right, as does the thumb following the line of his spine, up and down each bump, ceaseless, building the pressure up and then letting go. Jack has to wonder as he drifts off if it's one of those times Gabriel will stay until he wakes.

He does. Looking with the usual neutral expression when Jack gulps for the air, the lingering vague memory of drowning but not sinking while something gorges itself on his flesh with little bites tearing him apart fading slowly.

(...)

Coming off the sedation after being cut was always a mixed bag. This time, though, the bustle of the street outside filters in slowly, rising like a wave over the ocean of static and breaking when the stims start doing their job.

The first breath is always the hardest, some kink in the lungs that kicks them into filtration mode each time the loss of consciousness occurs and demands focus from Jack to consciously switch back into the atmospheric intake.

"With us again?"

"You tell me, you're in my brain."

"Being obstinate will net you no points," Sombra mentally scoffs. "The pain?"

"No worse than usual."

"Arms up. Good, neural's working with no lag. And thank you very much for that kick, the legs are doing fine too."

"All?" Jack looks over the utilitarian metal surfaces of his limbs, the make and the model different from anything else he has seen on the market.

"Now, yeah," Sombra winces, pulling the plug out. She doesn’t need it but had told him once there were times she felt safer working with one. "For final calibrations, I need more data, so let's slap synthskin on those."

"What are they, anyway?"

"Scrubbed milspec, last year's model, or so I'd been told."

Sombra directs the assistant. Each applied sheet of layered synthskin gives Jack a lurch of unpleasant sensations before settling into annoyance, tension, and oversensitivity. A dance he's familiar with - a day or two before the brain puts a dampener on the sensory input when it integrates properly.

"I know why you're doing this for free, but why is he spending so much on this?"

Sombra flinches.

"The last batch you got rid of was worth more than those."

"It won't stop the demand, only the price of the meat went up."

"And the ability to process it for consumption went down. You know what's my take on it," she signs something on her pad. "Anyway, have fun tonight. I'll get in touch with you tomorrow to finish the calibrations."

"Not seeing much of a difference now," Jack pulls on his clothes, mindful of the temporary sleeves making sure the skin stays in place. "Tell me I won’t control and crush anyone."

"Implemented mental blocks. No limiters, so they can over-perform and get bricked, too."

"Taking bets on when I brick them?"

"Honestly!" Sombra throws the pad at him and Jack deflects it into the wall - looking back to her with a sheepish grin as it falls to the ground. "Too slow. Also, I don't want to see you in the professional capacity for at least half a year, but I'm giving you a month."

"Not very generous, and you're making me think you don't like it in my head."

"I don't, it's a jumble there since..." She stops herself, glaring daggers at the assistant who, granted with the rare ability to read the room, makes himself scarce - finding something urgent to do in the back.

"Since the glorified accident at work I don't even remember, seriously, five years, it's enough to stop treating me like I'm going to break about it." Jack pulls up the hood. Sombra's thinking about something, her brows drawn together in a worried frown.

"Aren't you curious?"

"Not really. Nightmares are a clue enough that something took out a lot of bites, and really, can't blame them, can I?"

"That's enough." She sends him a slightly nauseated look. "Scram now, have fun."

"Do you think he will tell me where he got milspec from?"

"He didn't tell me, so he's not going to tell you."

"But you've got an inkling how he got it."

"Maybe." She waves him off and Jack rolls his eyes, shrugging. Needling her for information has never worked before, anyway, and probably never will.

"See you when I wreck those."

"Fuck off!"

In less than an hour, there will be no trace left of her inside - and of Jack himself - the room is already being stripped down as he makes his way out of the basement up the concrete stairs with walls covered with dangerous amounts of mildew. Pushing past a corner stall encroaching on the doorway, he picks up a wrapped piece of barely seared meat waiting for him and waves his bracelet at the chit reader.

The air is wet and salty, like waves on the harbor, not even the smells of the market drown it out. The corners of his lips curl up at the thought tomorrow, or the day after, he'll be back out there, out on the sea, taking a dive into its depths, water everywhere, below and above, invisible current carrying him on its whims. Jack hails down the cab, the smile still on his face.

It remains there even twenty minutes later as he gets off by the hotel, both far too expensive and far too cheap at the same time. Too expensive for his own tastes, too cheap for Gabe to rent a room in it. Alas, here they are - and he sends a quick text.

'I'm coming up.'

Almost to the top, feeling vaguely claustrophobic in the humming elevator thankfully bereft of the usual muzak (apparently some taste did come with the money, but not enough for the interior to keep consistent style), he gets the customary message back. 'Open.'

Jack lets out the breath he's been inadvertently holding in when the doors open and he's left in the corridor, looking for the right entrance. A suite, of course, worth a chuckle as he walks inside, the only source of light the city's glow coming in through the windows.

And Gabriel, of course - again - standing with his back to the window, the only discernible features of his in the dim the almost glowing red irises and the white markings creating a vague outline of some animal face. Dramatic asshole, as usual.

"Show me."

The tone of authority and ownership demanding obedience - the order itself - coming from anyone else but the man who one way or another did own everything that made him, would have Jack snarling and pouncing whoever dared to speak to him like that. Hearing it from Gabe, though...

"Not even 'hi, how are you' or 'greetings, mortal'?"

Jack rolls his eyes, stripping down completely out of his clothes, leaving them lying on the plush carpet as Gabriel comes closer. Always smelling faintly of the deep ocean, or rather, of how Jack would imagine it to smell if it did.

Fingers dig around the edges of the sleeves on his shoulders, feeling the joints underneath, moving down to repeat the same around his hips. Synthskin sends confusing signals, not quite the pain yet, and a pinch of irritation.

"Looks fine."

"Will you tell me how you got your hands on last generation's milspec?" Gabriel ignores the question - no acknowledgment of it being asked even - as he's wont to do. Instead, he picks up a pillbox from the dresser. "I still got them."

"I know. You're dosing too low."

"Orgasm in a pill seems a bit too convenient." Jack massages the joint of his shoulder, moving to the bedroom. The carpet, probably soft on any other occasion, scratches his soles. "And a bit awkward."

"A fortunate coincidence of it interacting with your physiology."

"Yeah, coincidence. You're sure it's not another leash to keep me on?"

"If it were, you wouldn't be able to skip a dose. I'd make sure of it."

"I'm pulling your leg. I rather suspect you wouldn't do that, or would you?" Jack climbs the bed and props himself on the pillows - eyes focused on the single pill held between Gabriel's fingers, tracking it as he puts it in his mouth advancing - crawling over the covers, and Jack himself, with the grace of a predator playfully stalking a prey he knows cannot flee, the kill only a formality decided beforehand.

Drowning, always drowning in those eyes, black sclera and red irises blurring together into one, always looking too deep into him until he feels they don’t see him at all, his tongue brushing against sharp pointed teeth in an open-mouthed kiss, electricity traveling back and forth the nerves of phantom limbs with the speed of light coming to stop in a single burst leaving him breathless and shaking under Gabriel.

"Dutiful boy. You deserve a prize."

Jack chuckles at the first trace of any emotion in Gabriel's voice. The possessiveness is never truly gone, it's as much an integral part of him as are his looks, but there's a note of fondness giving Jack the incontestable impulse to almost preen: lower his lashes and incline back his head, hand sliding along dark red lines on Gabriel's arm.

"She's going to touch up off this."

"Are you worried about your privacy?"

"I'm used to having none with her. That was," he inhales sharply, feeling the bite on his collarbone, "for your benefit. I can see now you don't mind."

"I do not."

Jack merely snorts, rolling over and promising himself again to figure out Gabriel's trick with the clothes, there one moment and gone in the next, probably magic, but if he ever had any spark himself it was long lost with all the work done on him since the accident. Blunt as a troll's fist, this one.

Not that he has the ability to dwell on it while getting drilled into the mattress.

Later, the deep throbbing bites on his back, shoulders, and neck almost manage to take his mind off the itching under the sleeves, the kind anything but scratching the skin off whole does nothing for. The bites, they should bother him more but feel only right, as does the thumb following the line of his spine, up and down each bump, ceaseless, building the pressure and then letting go. Jack has to wonder as he drifts off if it's one of those times Gabriel will stay until he wakes.

He does. Looking with the usual neutral expression when Jack gulps for the air, the lingering vague memory of drowning but not sinking while something gorges itself on his flesh with little bites tearing him apart fading slowly.

"Lungs are still giving you problems."

Bathed in the sunlight, Gabriel looks as striking as in the darkness - minutely less dangerous now, however surface and not representative of his true nature the impression is. Regal. Focused on the multitude of holoscreens floating in the air before him.

"No. Not really."

"You were choking."

"Only a bit." Jack stretches, still feeling relatively boneless and exhausted, sticky with perspiration, too tired yet to consider the shower to be a genuine need right now. He slips off the bed only to retrieve the wrapped meat from the pile of discarded clothes in the other room and climbs right back into it.

"It's almost raw," Gabriel mentions when Jack's well into a third of his snack.

"Yeah. I'm finding it's not that bad at all, all things considered. Are you going to comment on my obviously poor dietary choices?"

"No. I'm rather curious about why would you consume it raw." A note of amusement, rare as it is, floats in Gabriel's voice. Jack shrugs.

"Started as a fucked up way to get closer and understand them better, and it grew on me. Not like I'm doing it a lot, wanted to treat myself tonight. Want some?"

To his astonishment, it does take Gabriel's attention away from the screens, as if he's considering the offer seriously - not that Jack would mind - and he leans in, hand trailing on Jack's shoulder for a moment and coming away with blood on the fingertips. Which he licks off.

One of the bites must’ve opened.

"No."

"Shit," Jack chuckles, pulling knees closer to his chest, resting his arms on them, just looking. "Could you just tell me what you are?"

"No. Probably never will."

"Suit yourself then, Knife-ears."

Soon afterward, Gabriel disappears in the bathroom and emerges back fully clothed, the suit so plain and unassuming it has to be worth its weight in diamonds, at least - and leaves without a word. Nothing about it bothers Jack, really, that's the only way he has ever known him to be: someone who's either rich or influential enough to never have had to conform to any social standards so they're like an alien concept to him. If anything, it tickles Jack's ego, the fact Gabriel spends both money and time on him regardless of his inscrutable reasons for it. And even if the time is scarce, the money comes in sums so high Jack’s not going to bother trying to figure the specific amounts out.

With a sigh, Jack plugs into his own pad, trying to ignore momentary vertigo any kind of connection, even the shallow one, gives him - waiting for Sombra to get to him. If she wanted anything from him, she always found him the second he jacked in.

The mental equivalent of a giggle has him rolling his eyes.

"You can say it."

"Boy, did you get screwed silly."

"I feel like I got some of my brain matter fucked out, that one's a freebie."

"What the hell are you eating now? Feedback from your tastebuds is giving me shivers."

"You too?" He bites off another chunk.

"What are you eating?" Sombra repeats, the tone akin to the one used towards a pet that definitely got into trash or picked up something suspect on the way.

"Almost raw meat."

"Interesting," she says after a pause. "Anyway, I'm done."

Jack flexes the free hand, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times.

"Not seeing any difference."

"You shouldn't because I know how to do my job. Also uploaded keys to the blocks, the data on the job, and you've got incoming charter on the roof in five hours."

"So I do have time for a bath then," he hums, smiling.

"Knock yourself out, I'm leaving you alone, you get weird in water."

"Thanks, Som."

"No biggie." Her presence warms up before blinking out, leaving Jack to sort through everything she's left behind both in, and on the pad. Processing plant, the floor plans from several flybys, one drone shot down by a spirit, two points of entrance, Genji on the spot, Jesse and him coming from the water with a few hours to spare, full carnage.

Jack smirks, pulling out the plug. Just how he likes it. He moves to the bathroom, the alarm set for two hours.

The bathtub is nothing spectacular, at best a tight fit for more than two people - still a fancy one with an array of controls barely anyone bothers to use. He picks the temperature and plays a bit with oxygenation and flow. Jack lowers himself into the water slowly, the cold playing havoc on the still sensitive synthskin. The nonexistent heat regulation of milspec freezes his joints with pain. All par for the course as he exhales before submerging in full.

And then, he breathes the water in.

The surface breaks with the remnants of the air pushed from his lungs. It's a poor man's substitute for the real thing but the pressure and the dampened hum of the surroundings, however dissimilar to a swim in the ocean, bring his mind some respite.

Running down the pier barefooted with the warmth of the sun on his back - jumping - the whiplash of the impact - diving deep, to look back from below at the light glimmering on the waves, the rays reaching for him - the hands reaching for him from the depths and pulling down.

With the sound of the alarm, Jack jolts up to a sitting position, coughing out the water. Another bout gets rid of the rest of it from the lungs, and he changes the temperature. The bath heats almost immediately.

The dream changes, but the ending remains always the same.

Head leaning against the rim of the tub, before properly washing, he spends minutes motionless except for the occasional shiver until his core warms up. Remaining two hours Jack idles away eating a late breakfast and not really watching some show on the holo while sprawled in the bed still smelling of sex.

Moving to the pad grants him some suspicious looks he can't fault people for because he does stick out here in his clothes like a sore thumb - and then surprise as his bracelet lets him pass through the gate and into the waiting Osprey with rotors running hot. A waste to use the craft fitted for carrying almost forty personnel merely for him, but he's not the one paying. At least, there's room enough to stretch his legs and to think very hard on how much he's unafraid of flying, his stomach doing backflips as it takes off.

The fact the crash might have been involved had occurred to him long ago.

Fifteen minutes in, Jack gives up and reaches out to Sombra, for which she ridicules him mercilessly but keeps him company. Getting angry helps to take his mind off of how fucking terrified he is. Even if he could run fucking laps inside the cabin, the changing tilt reminds him he's in the air, and the moment Osprey touches down three hours later, Jack's out like there's a pack of devil rats on his heels, relieved to have solid ground back under his feet.

Jesse, holding his hat down against the draft waves at him. The coyote stitched on his serape seems to stretch and yawn with the fabric moving, probably does so in truth, but Jack can never tell.

"Lúcio's finishing on the sub, we're going to drink tonight, coming too?"

Jack looks to the harbor and shakes his head.

"Not this time. I'll check the gear and maybe go for the swim."

"Dude, no, not in this water, trust me. Too much industrial, and many critters out here. Best case, you'd break out in boils after a dip."

"Can't be that bad."

"Well, Lúcio says that a pyramid had been hit hard some months back, there's been some runoff and an uptick in critters. Really want to chance it with whatever's in the water now?"

"Guess not." Jack shrugs, walking away from the powered down craft towards the only building on the pier.

"So how's about that drink?" The coyote on the red cloth sits down and scratches its ear. If he were to associate Jesse with any other spirit than it, he would be hard-pressed to find anything fitting.

"Pass. Just don't get in trouble with the locals. Or old pals."

"Hey, don't bring up my stalker vampire ex, the next time I see 'er, I have a stake with her name on it." Jesse throws his hands into the air, pausing in the doorway, letting Jack pass him.

"You know it doesn't work on her."

"It will slow her down."

"If you manage to stake anything vital."

"Oh, I will, because this," Jesse points to himself with a wide smile, "is absolutely irresistible to her."

Jack laughs, eyeing the crates set up inside.

"Yeah, there's no accounting for taste."

"Dude, harsh. Anyway, that's yours."

"Everything's in here?"

"I wouldn't know, I try not to touch your shit," Jesse gives an exasperated sigh while digging in his pockets for a cigar, the coyote snapping at it as he puts it between his lips. "Well, see you in the morning, dude," he adds before turning around. Jack nods, moving his attention to the boxes and working his way through their contents.

The story behind the coyote Jesse tells is as outlandish as the man himself, and a question for the ages of how he wasn't rad-insane or sporting another head. Yet.

In the German wasteland (the only place on earth one could be a real cowboy anymore, Jesse insisted), drunk off two shit beers because his ex fed off him earlier, and high on some local shrooms, staring at the dying campfire, the coyote came to him and took him on the trip. Jack would gladly chalk it up to alcohol, hallucinogenics, radiation, and exsanguination, all working in synergy - if not for the hard fact the coyote itself was very real, and as helpful as it turned out to be an impediment, or a bother, the other half of the time.

Methodically, Jack picks out the gear - the rest going back to their crates - and then he double-checks the selection, looking for any identifiable problems and defects. When he's finished and satisfied, it's well into the wee morning hours. He drags a random deck chair to the end of the pier and lays down in it. The city, as small as it is comparable to the majority on the coast, doesn't sleep - there is no escaping the lights and the sounds - but in his chosen spot overlooking more water than the land he can doze off.

If either Jesse or Lúcio notices him gasping for breath as they finish loading the sub, they don't mention it.

"I'm not hauling your shit," Jesse gestures to the container Jack left outside, by his chair.

"Hi, man," Lúcio smiles. "Also, I dig your new set, what's the specs?"

"You'd have to ask Sombra for technicalities, I'm only using them." Jack stretches, there's a kink below his left shoulder blade he tries to work out by rolling it. Almost manages to, too.

"Cool, will do. By the way, he tried to throw hands only once."

"Dude. Squeal much?"

"It's called being the responsible one," Lúcio shrugs and Jesse groans in response, muttering something sounding suspiciously like 'don't need a chaperone'.

"Sub's all ready?"

"She's right up purring now, the lady she is." Lúcio's eyes light up. "Nothing left to squeeze out."

"I'll hold you up to it." Jack gets up and drags the container to the sub, the box grating on the concrete, and brings it into the cabin, pushing it behind the seats.

"Oh, man, do that, love to see the data after you push her."

"Will do on the way back. Jesse, inside."

"That wasn't me sleeping when me and Lúcio were breaking our backs," Jesse snarks sliding into the pilot's seat, knowing well Jack's impatience and what they will use the spare time for. He doesn't mind, usually.

"Good hunting, guys." Lúcio mock-salutes as the hatch seals.

Before they're out of the harbor and submerged completely, Jack's out of his clothes, save for the boxers. Despite the sub being state-of-the art, with two people in it gets hot inside in less than an hour.

He starts on the sleeves, peeling them off slowly.

The synthskin underneath is still oversensitive, but no longer tries to overload his brain with conflicting or extreme stimuli. It just feels like blanched with boiling water and any negligible otherwise touch almost painfully tickles.

"Kinda creepy, like a snake's molt."

"Note to self, I look better with my skin falling off my frame."

"Hey, I'm just stating the bare facts. Fuck, ew!" Jesse leans away to evade the sleeve Jack waves in his direction. "Dude. No. That's uncalled for. I'm driving, I could crash us."

"Into what?"

"I'd find something!" It's either a threat, a promise, or a commentary on the nature of Karma.

"Out of the two of us, I'm the one who can breathe underwater, so..." Jack lets his voice hang as he reaches for the pillbox he left on the shelf earlier. It's a short debate if he should take one because even if he could take them as he felt like otherwise, risking going into implant rejection on the job was far from reasonable. As soon as the aftershocks fade, Jack leans back into the seat, lazily watching the water on the screen.

"And that's also creepy as fuck," Jesse comments, sounding a bit more somber. "You look like you just got your dick sucked off, every time."

"Honestly? Feels like it, every time."

"And you know what makes it even fucking creepier?"

"You're going to tell me and I can't stop it."

"Because this shit looks goddamn miraculous and I may have helped myself to some," Jesse begins, waving one arm in the air and Jack mutters that of course Jesse fucking did, "and they fucking don't work. And you know what's in them?"

"Not that interested as long as they work."

"It's people, dude."

Jack sends him a blase look.

"And you ate it."

"Yeah, but I didn't go looking like I creamed my pants after that."

"It's for implant rejection, so it only makes sense it has reconfigured genetic material in it. Also, do not eat my drugs, it's people."

Jesse grimaces.

"Dude, you made it sound weird."

"I made you getting into my stash of pharmaceutical drugs you personally can't get high off sound weird?"

"Dude, it's even weirder now. How do you do it?"

"What?" Jack chuckles. "You mean, use my brain, sometimes?"

Jesse mutters some expletive under his breath and Jack closes his eyes leaving it without comment as the whole chat makes him revisit more or less cloudy memories of the first months he's spent either half-conscious because of pain, or half-conscious because of drugs and pain.

At least, until the pill, and the moment when the pain finally went below the...

"Amida Bongo Christ Almighty!" Jack turns immediately at the sound of the genuine panic in the voice to see Jesse try to become one with his seat, pushing back with his feet against the floor, pointing at the screen where a shadow in the water comes into focus, massive, gliding with deliberation. "Of all the fucking things to run into, the Sea-Fucking-Dragon... we're all gonna die."

Jack kills the engine in his stead and swipes at the screen, focusing the image. He can't deny his own heart is hammering in his chest when he lets out the sigh of slight relief while trying to ignore Jesse's doom-saying.

"It's not her."

"What?"

"It's not her. Doesn't look like her, and it's much bigger."

"That's supposed to help us exactly how!?"

"Take her five hundred to the left," Jack, already climbing over the back of his seat and almost falling in a hapless heap on the container in the process, barks at him. "I'm going out."

"Are you fucking serious, dude? Of-fucking-course, you are!"

"Chance like this isn't going to repeat itself!"

"A chance to get fucking eaten by a dragon?"

"That too!" Jack locks the airlock behind himself and fits the propulsion module as it fills with water. There's no time to wait for the slow pressurization. When there's no air left inside, he forces the emergency release, pulling himself to the outside, and pushes away from the body of the sub.

"Dude." Jesse, switched to the comms, sounds appalled compared to the earlier panic, which is considerably better for the situation. "Did you just lewd a dragon?"

"Maybe possibly." Jack smiles, cutting across at an angle. "Remember, five hundred, match speed, if I do get eaten, go silent and wait, rendezvous with Genji, do the site rep, and then decide what you do."

"You're literally the last person who should give orders."

"Next to last. You're even less qualified."

"True what they say, the truth hurts."

The dragon is massive, its form much more suited to the open ocean than what footage of Sea Dragon there is shows of her. He's yet too far to discern if it has limbs or only the fins. It moves with a misleading slow grace, the powerful twists of the wide tail propelling it forward. Getting caught in the vortex of the currents pushed with each beat could be - is - deathly dangerous.

Smaller shapes swim with it, congregating around the middle part of its body.

At first, Jack takes them for merrows, they're known to attach themselves to big predators and form codependent relationships, but it's the perspective lying to him. They're bigger, more agile, gleam occasionally with reflective scales. A brood of young, maybe? If yes, the endeavor is even more foolish than in the beginning, but even that won’t deter him from undertaking it.

Two of the smaller creatures break away from the formation as he gets closer and approach, their tails swishing wildly in the water. Mermaids. Mermaids traveling in a pack with a dragon. Not something he had expected.

They're coming both from the above and the below, a male and an older female, judging by the scars and veils, still colorful but ripped and missing pieces. It's hard to keep up with their rapid movements. Jack curls his hands and legs to his body as they circle him.

"Please, don't bite," he tells them. "There's almost no meat and you will probably break your teeth on me."

The mermaids observe him warily. The female chirps once and turns back, the male following in her tow. She's green and yellow, the pattern reminiscent of the stripes on a perch or other fish known to thrive in greenery. When no light catches on her scales she blends with the deep green agate hue of the water, but Jack wonders if she's maybe better suited to sargassum forests. Her partner, on the other hand, with his solid canary yellow, stands out like a sore thumb - at least until both of them gain distance and rejoin the group amid some agitation from the closest mermaids, the reactions playing out like a change of direction in a school of fish.

It's his first close encounter with live mermaids since the accident, and he has been judged as neither a threat nor a meal. In this moment, Jack feels some of the rush bleed away, allowing him to slip into simple sensations, focus on them, and appreciate them: the steady pressure of water against every inch of his skin, the additional tension in his scalp when his hair, however short, drag with each movement, the cold seeping into him from the inside, the weightlessness - even if he knows his limbs would pull him much further down.

The ocean is far from silent - never silent - full of sounds he can hear with his ears, and the ones he cannot - he hears with his whole body - the symphony of the dulled hum of static and single notes played on different instruments, not unlike the sounds of traffic in its structure.

His eyes drift back to the dragon.

It's foolish. It's not borderline suicidal, it's just plain old suicidal. And he won't let a moment like this slip like air between his fingers.

Hand on the controls of the drive, Jack resumes the approach.

The dragon looms closer, its body at least thirty meters long from the tip to the tail, probably more. He can now see its limbs tucked close to the underbelly - the fins reminiscent of underdeveloped wings.

He swims parallel to its head, advancing.

Bone-like white crest covers its front. The black scales, even if they seem to have an inner shine to them, appear to consume the light voraciously. The dark red lines streaking along the sides twist and mold with each move of the powerful muscles hidden underneath.

Jack's heart does not fit into his chest, so hard it hammers against his ribs from the inside - with fear, with excitement, with awe - and that's before the low rumble resonates within him as the dragon opens its eyes, one after another, five of them on the side he's facing - each an abyss of darkness ringed with glowing red slowly focusing on him: an insignificant speck in comparison.

"God. You're beautiful."

No. It was a worthless descriptor when applied to the apex predator wrought with raw power both physical and not.

Sublime.

The dragon disregards him - its eyes swivel to look forward - he cannot fathom expecting to keep such creature's interest for longer than this. But it's also an invitation, he's considered to be harmless, hence nothing to bother with, and Jack slows slightly while swimming up. Above its bulk, he notices some mermaids just clinging to the body, clawed fingers curled around the edges of the scales. Stupid, again, but he is going to try the same: hitch a ride on a dragon.

The thought is intoxicating, sends his mind reeling with unsuppressed glee.

He dives forward, his fingertips brush the hard surface - with caution he digs his fingers underneath the scale - the other palm he lays flat against it as the propulsion module switches off.

Jack pulls himself closer against the current, that rush of underwater wind. Never has he wished for his limbs back more than now, to touch and feel with his real skin, not even when the bones that aren't his anymore burn with that deep ache that sends all the thoughts skittering away with no control. Instead, he pulls flush against its body, forehead pressed into the scales, each contraction of the muscle below them felt intimately.

At the moment, he doesn't count time, not until another rumble, one he feels against his skin, makes him realize almost two hours have passed.

He looks back to see the mermaids otherwise swimming try to grab onto scales as it continues. In the front, what he took for vestigial wings - the fins - slowly unfold to reveal skeletal-like frame filled in with dark ethereal filigree straining on the currents.

It's a profound kind of sadness Jack feels loosening his grip. Drifting - falling - sinking - away.

The wings spread and angle. The dragon's back winds up like a spring.

Then it soars underwater, deep in the ocean, each beat of the wings carrying it further away into darkness.

The rush of water pushed by the dragon sends him spinning. Jack instinctively curls his limbs to his core to wait it out, losing all sense of direction in resulting vertigo. When it stops, it takes him a while to orient himself, the leviathan nowhere to be seen anymore.

"Jesse, it's safe to approach. Can you get to my signal because I'm fucking lost?"

"I see you," the response comes with a delay. "Coming from your general six. Dude, do you know how much is the footage worth?"

"It's worthless." Jack turns around with a few kicks.

"All would kill..."

"You can't put a price on it, it will put a price on your life." He can see the incoming lights blinking for his benefit as they draw near. "And you want to put out there a proof of a dragon that had remained away from the public knowledge until now?"

"Fair, even I'm not that stupid. I think. With the way you put it."

Jack swims towards the sub and grabs one of the railings, pulling himself towards the airlock. Minutes later, he climbs into his seat, dripping water everywhere.

"Got what you wanted outta that one? Besides getting eaten?"

"I think I've found god," Jack smiles, genuinely. It's a memory he's going to treasure, one unlikely to be eclipsed by any other in the foreseeable future.

"You going to be one of them dragon-worshipping freaks? I've heard things, and none good, I say."

"Not like that."

"So," Jesse turns his head to look at him. "You want to dick down a dragon."

"When you get down to it," Jack starts carefully, eyeing Jesse with a certain degree of suspicion, "yeah, basically."

"Heard about that one club you can meet one, violet eyes and..."

"I don't want to dick down a dragon, I want to dick down this one."

"Okay. It's important to have goals in one's life. I'm not judging."

It's at this point that something about a much earlier conversation occurs to Jack and he stills before covering his eyes with his palm.

"Jesse?"

"Mhm?"

"When you said you have a stake with her name on it... Did you mean your dick?"

Jesse raises his eyebrows, makes finger-guns with his hands, and goes for a pithy imitation of 'badum-tss' sound.

"You fucking moron." And Jack can only laugh.