#because with his family its like kind of whatever? ish? everyone can stand their own ground and/or have been babyproofed to be invulnerable

[sorrelpaws]

>be me >make a friend >hang out with him >he gets hurts due to hanging out with me >mfw my only friend might die because of me

[shtern-and-art]

In The Dark – a cryptid AU about Bad and Skeppy – part 2.

All text is captioned under the cut!

THE STORY

Bad told Skeppy that he is- he was a human, a long, long time ago. And Skeppy didn’t really suspect this, no. But, when the rare rays of sunlight snuck under the canopies, and danced across Bad’s features… sometimes, in those flashes of light Skeppy did see a human face. It happened just a few times before. And if after that conversation, at times of silence and comfort with just the two of them, the white eyes faded out to green more often, Skeppy didn’t mention it. He just collected those moments, like his pretty shards of glass – dark on first sight, but shining brilliantly, when you look through them at a sunny day.

Skeppy keeps them close, and doesn’t ask yet, doesn’t pry in too deep at first. Because he knows even more about this town’s story now. About all the animal attacks many years ago, about woodcutters killed and thrown out of the forest, or hanged up on the trees by “the mafia”. About how quickly the tree logging business was shut down after the big “accident” on one of the forest stations. About the photo he saw, in the little museum near the closed factory, with families of the major business owners of the town. And one of the faces he saw on that picture was the same that shined with gentle kindness, between the flickering of shadows, when Bad sneakily tangled wildflowers in Skeppy’s hair.

Bad never speaks about his past, and why he despises people of the town so much. And with trial and error Skeppy learns that asking doesn’t get him anywhere. It only gets Bad to fuss up, and disappear to nap in the deeper woods for a few days. It is a long way to where they can talk about it directly, without someone freaking out.

Anyway, the woodcutting business is slowly coming back to town, and more and more people and workers are wandering around the forest. So Bad has plenty of reasons to be irritated already, and they both have so many fun pranks to pull on the locals to get distracted and pleasantly pass the time.

THE PAST

The trick of it all, is that the forest is old. And the forest is alive, like an animal in its depth might be. And a while back, in the 40-50s, the wood logging company started cutting way deeper into the woods than before. Going to far, not letting the land recover, chasing that profit on increasing sales. The business was doing amazing – by destroying the calm existence of the forest, hurting it’s body and mind, and not giving anything back.

And in many places, they could’ve done all this and more without immediate consequences. But this land was old. And this forest was alive. And, when scared and hurt, living things can bare teeth and lash out to protect themselves.

The forest was in distress, and angry, and its feelings were feelings off all the living things inside of it. Over time, the animals started getting sick, and more aggressive, venturing into the town, possessed by the shared pain and fear. That pain and fear seeped through the land, and in the town, too, distrust and crime rates started rising up. All was unwell. And, of course, it was very bad for business.

Said business was run by several prominent families in the town. The tree logging factory and the adjacent businesses were all tied together economically and through the reliance on the forest being there on their doorstep. And the people running those businesses more or less knew about what this forest was, how it was. Everyone from the town who was around long enough understood – at least in some way – that these woods are more alive and dangerous than many others. And with several years of disturbing happenings occurring more and more, not many of these business owners could deny the supernatural element of their troubles.

And so, they began looking for the ways to make it better. To appease and calm down the spirit of the forest. It was a real group effort, a whole ass multi-family project. Even if some family members and younger kids didn’t fully believe in all this “occult pagan stuff” – they still tolerated it, and went along. Because families and communities stick together. And what harm can come from building some altars in the woods? Or a few chickens spilling blood on the old rocks near the abandoned trails? They will go on the grill same afternoon anyway.

The spirit of the forest is just, well. A spirit. It’s not exactly sentient, it’s more like a mushi, or a very smart animal, or a thunderstorm – half-personified, semi-aware, just a force of nature taking form and prominence. It just exists, and lives, and it is not human. So, taking leeways with appeasing and calming it down should be ok, right? It’s not like the forest spirit would care, if people will make even with the land by taking care of it, and letting it heal with time… or just perform a cool ritual, and give the forest an equal sacrifice in return for its pain.

Replanting the trees and reworking the business is way too expensive and time consuming anyway. So, they try, and research, and try… And the forest barely takes note of their efforts. And the creepiness, and all the bodies keep piling up, all the bad press is getting harder to contain… It starts to seem, that to really break equal the sacrifice should be of an equal or a greater value than the hurt they’ve caused.

So, in a tragically escalating turn of events, several heads of the families came to the conclusion, that the proper sacrifice, the one that will hold, should be one of their own. A human sacrifice – a life of-, and from people connected to the land, those who caused the forest distress.

It wasn’t the main plan, of course. Probably. Not from the start, for sure. Things just turned out this way, you know. It was just an option on the table. And it just happened that things were going especially terrible, down the drain so fast, and it just happened that they had a good option, a person who was there, and-

It was just so convenient. The accountant in their clique, the newer guy who just recently joined old wealthy families in running the town, build his own business from ground up through the years. He had a son, 20-something. That quiet but loud one, that they barely noticed. And it’s sad, of course, that it had to come to this. And tragic, yes. A real sacrifice. But, really conveniently, no skin of the main businessmen’s back.

They can even keep the distance, and ask their kids/grandkids to mark him for the ritual. None of them really liked the guy anyway. They all were just forced to hang out sometimes, because of status and all that.

So, they’ll gladly go on to make the special paste, or whatever, and make sure the guy touches it. Even if the kids may not believe in all this ritual stuff fully – it’s still fun, and creepy, and that guy was so-o-o stuck-up-ish anyway. Always pretending to be so perfect and proper, you know. Didn’t even partake in all their fun ritual stuff all year. Fuck him, draw a little mark on his raincoat with old herbs and dirt, on the soles of his shoes too, and the inside of his jacket. All 6 of kids got to draw a little finger-painting on something of his, and they all watched him leave to visit his grandma in a cabin deep in the woods.

By the time Darryl got to the grandma’s house, late at evening, the bouquet of flowers he brought her was overgrown with wildflowers.

The voice coming from the dark bedroom, asking him to come in was ever so slightly off grandma’s usual stern tone. So, Darryl didn’t go in, of course. He had his hands full with the pastry bags, and the sweet smelling flowers, spilling out from their paper raping. And when grandma came out – moving just a bit too smoothly for her age, staring at him just a tad more intense than any human would – Darryl excused himself to go chop more firewood behind the house.

And standing there, under the light rain and weak backyard light with only the old, dull iron axe for himself, he knew that his grandma always had a distant, and a bit scary presence, but… The creature in the house was not her. And he knew that something was watching him from the forest – and from the window of the house – dozens of inhuman eyes staring right at him. Waiting.

He tried to run, of course, to get back to town. But the car started to die halfway. And the other kids, the 6 that followed him into the woods, to make sure he stays put… They were right there to take him deeper through the trees, away from main roads. Perhaps, they, too, were scared, and saw the glimpses of white fur far off in-between all other animals following them. But it was too late, they were too deep, and Darryl lost his glasses, struggling on the way to the clearing they decided to stop at.

There was no going back now. The ritual was in motion, gears turning, and the forest took the offer that was promised – the blood of the youth that was tied to the earth. All 7 of them, who partook in the offering, and touched the herbs and blood, and the sigils made with them – because this is how the ritual works, if you really, actually read through and research it.

The kids, or, more likely, their parents, didn’t. And so, after that night, none of them ever came out of the forest. Well, not in one piece, at least. Six badly mangled bodies (some partially eaten by wild animals) were recovered couple days later, and it was blamed on the mafia taking revenge on the local businessmen for some dealings going bad.

The tree logging company and the adjacent businesses didn’t really had a chance to recover after that. Not after several years of lawsuits and bad rumors, and not after loosing most of their kids – one of the bodies was even never found!

And with that tragedy and the following scandals, no one really noticed at first, but the animal attacks quieted down, and people stopped disappearing in the woods. But, in retrospect, it made sense – with mafia moving on from the totally defeated and bankrupt rivals.

THE FOREST SPIRIT

So, yes. The ritual kind of worked, the forest took what was offered, like water running down the newly dug out path. At that time, going down that path, the forest was angry, and hurting, it felt helpless and betrayed. And so did Darryl – just as strongly. And here they were, getting dragged down the same path, connected through it, unable to stop it all. In that shared intensity, being so similar in the moment, tangled through the flow of the ritual, they… kind of became the same thing.

Its normal for the forest spirit to have a vessel – an animal from that forest that carries out it’s will. And over time, those vessels can change, when the time comes, or something big happens with the forest. And there, at that moment, close to death, and merging with the forest spirit, Darryl became it’s next vessel, too.

It’s normal for the forest spirit to possess other forest life sometimes – they act out it’s feelings, if they get too strong. This is a natural prosses, easy like breathing, happening purely on instinct. Usually forest spirits do not possess fully sentient beings (or don’t do it for long). Because people and thigs similar to them, they have more self-awareness and recollection. They can not follow the impulses of the forest so blindly.

What happened here was a freak accident, an accidental turn of unexpected events… Because even after dying, and coming back to life no longer human, even connected to land and the forest so deeply now, being literally a part of them. Even with all of that… Darryl couldn’t get too “possessed”, like other animals or vessels would. That could probably happen, but only if those feelings would be really big, all encompassing, and – matched his own. If they shared them fully and strongly, with the forest, like at the time when for a few minutes they became one.

BAD

When Bad’s sense of self slowly came back to him, he was no longer human. And, after being connected to supernatural world so deeply, he knew of many non-human things just on instinct. He knew what happened with him (what was done to him). Knew that the people who did it paid for it right after, and will be doing so for the years to come. Bad knew that he, himself, will be here, in the forest, for all the years to come. That he’ll never be able to come back to his old life, or even say proper goodbyes.

Not that he’d want to, though. Most people in the town, and especially from his family’s newer circle didn’t like him. For his dad finally making it big and “forgetting the roots”, for Bad being too perfect of an example to compare other not so helpful sons to. And, of course, for Bad being too close to not fitting the perfect example of what a proper young bachelor should be. But the Darryl they whispered, and spread crude rumors about was dead. And Bad didn’t have to try to- or pretend to like them back.

He didn't have to deal with it anymore: with all the greed, maliciousness and distrust of the people and “the business”, all the lies. He was no longer part of them – now outright – didn’t have to deal with them, or pretend to be anything he wasn’t.

They could just. Stay out of each other’s way.

It was pretty easy to do now, since Bad had lost most of the human cravings due to his supernatural nature, and his pain. Pain, and anger, and- So, yes, sure, he could keep people out, just like the forest spirit wanted, and have everyone leave him alone, like they both wanted.

RAT

Forest was already not as seething, and the tree logging business was shutting down, and Bad’s restless, half-dazed wandering between the trees was at least somewhat calming. At some point, Bad found a small wolf puppy deep in the brush. It was really small, weak, and completely alone. Its fur was as white as Bad’s new hair, and its eyes glowed, exactly like the ones Bad saw watching him from the shadows, back on the last day he was human.

This was the previous host of the spirit of the forest, Bad saw it now. He knew that it was born in these woods, and took on the spirit of them just after being born, and carried out it’s will for many, many decades, until Bad came along, and took this wolf’s place. And now its job was done. And it was dying. Slowly fading away to become part of the forest again.

There was some sort of solidarity between them, stumbling into each other between the gears of nature and time. Or, at least, Bad felt it in the moment. And, well, he didn’t have much to do, and fussing over and taking care of a little pathetic puppy the size of a rat was way more pleasant way to pass the time, than just endlessly feeling all the things Bad felt all the time.

So, he took care of Rat (yes, the Rat) for a while, took on hunting for her, and learnt to sleep in the minds of the forest creatures, while she rested. Time lost nearly all of it’s meaning for Bad, but it did pass, more and more of it. And Rat got better, and grew back into a full wolf, and lived past the life-span of all other wolfs born after the ritual. She went on to live on her own, but stayed close by, always keeping Bad in her sites. She joined him on the hunts, and watched over Bad, while he slumbered in the shadows.

Bad had no idea why, but her fur still rippled under moonlight, and her growl rumbled the earth, like some of the power of the forest remained in her still.

Masterpost / first meeting /part 1 / part 2 / part 3

[animeomegas]

I haven't finished mystic messenger yet. The 14 or whatever day cycle is just too difficult when I'm often at work or working on a project and then I always end up with a bad ending for "ignoring" the route character. (Any advice for finishing so I can Finally get to V's route would be appreciated haha). The only character route I've ever finished is Zen's.

I think it would take a while for him to mature enough to be ready to have a pup. Hes pretty deliberate with all of his actions both because of his personality and because of his career choice. Just like how it is with idols irl I think he'd wait until he's a pretty well established actor before he backs out of the spotlight for a bit and then spends more time mentoring for his company and teaching trainees in the early months of the pregnancy. He'd probably enjoy dabbling in writing scripts as well.

I wonder if it would be sort of a big deal once the public realizes he's an omega? I have no idea if its normal for omegas in that world to be in such prominent positions (since we often map feminist issues to the abo universe for better or worse) (on second thought probably Zen is out as an omega. It would play into the idol sell of sex appeal and also probably be a point of additional contention between him and Jumin anyway distraction)

He'd be a very sweet and gentle Oma. Zen studied a lot so hed probably buy parenting books in like, stages so that he can read ahead on what to expect for his pup's age 😂 which i would appreciate because it doesn't make his alpha feel like they need to know everything.

I imagine him singing too and with the pup like all the time. Gotta keep that vocal tone up and also its good for the development. Alpha just stands in the doorway watching whenever they can. Zen probably know they're there unless he's really really tired so it low key becomes an intimate moment for Zen to just be Hyun, enjoying music and enjoying the moment of making a memory.

Zen was born for the stage so he'd probably go back to training and rehearsals as soon as possible, both to get his name back out there and because his own soul needs it, but omega instincts would be smashing on top of his worry about becoming an absent parent so there's probably already a plan in place for baby to come to work with Apa and stay in sensing range.

He seems like the time to keep his kids away from the media a lot, since he's seen the wildness that can come from bad fans but he'd still make time to go with pup and Apa to the ocean, and make sure that his pup has the good memories he didn't get to make as a kid.

I don't know I'm getting a lot of soft feelings all of a sudden. Imagining Zen in just black pants and a white T-shirt at the beach with a pup, posing for the camera in matching hats. I just feel like he'd be a really kind "cool type" parent in presentation but like hes way more responsible in reality. The only flaw is that he'd probably never get rid of riding a motorcycle. Which like...its hot so as a no kids couple thats scary ish but fine. With a pup, I feel like he'd be more careful and not speed anymore.

Hope you're feeling alright 🥺 thanks for letting us send sweet things to you. If I think of any soft sunny hc I'll send it your way!

(Yeah, I know the way the game works can be pretty tough to fit around a schedule. Unfortunately, I don't have any advice that I think would be helpful, because I completed all the routes while in school/during the pandemic. so I used to do chatrooms during my breaks at school and I had nothing going on during the pandemic so. I also spent quite a lot of money on the game, which I know isn't an option for everyone. Maybe look up guides with the chat times to help schedule it out? Sorry, I can't be of more help!)

I love these headcanons!! I think they're super accurate.

Yes, I think Zen waits for a fair while to have a pup, not only because of his career like you mentioned, but he wants to be married first, and before he gets married, he wants to make amends with his family, so it could take some time.

But once he was ready, he takes a little break for the pregnancy, coaching instead as you said, and he takes almost no maternity after the pup's birth because

a) he's a very quick healer

b) his work defines him and he can't bare to be away from it for too long

He keeps his pup away from the paparazzi as much as he can when they're young just like you said, but he spams the group chat with pics of course. Anyone he trusts is going to be bombarded with pics of Zen's family constantly but the paparazzi will be kept firmly at arms length.

I think your headcanons about Zen singing to his pup is adorable, and I think you're right! He sings to them constantly while he's pregnant, he sings when he puts them to bed or bathes them or calms them down from tantrums or nightmares. It's very, very cute, and it always works to cheer his pup up.

When Zen goes back to work, I think his alpha (who is his manager) works from home for a bit. It would be nice for them to be able to take the pup with them to work, but I don't think it's practical or professional unfortunately, so their pup has a nanny part time and goes to daycare part time.

The little scene by the ocean! Anon, that is beautiful! He would totally make family time a priority. Family is so, so important to Zen! It's a big part of his character.

Thanks for sending this 🥰

[mingmingfufu]

Can we just talk about the ending of KawoShin open discuss. *sort of spoilerish*

I feel like I’m the only one who’s like reallly disappointed LMFAO--ya’ll there’s so much “canon” alternative universe and merchandise for Kawoshin in Evangelion that it kind of makes me upset to realise this couple just went down the drain. Yeah, I can see how people were like, “Kaworu’s toxic” or “Kaworu has a hero complex for Shinji” to which I say are valid points. But the toxic thing I feel like can also be applied to pretty much everyone around Shinji tbh, except for Rei. I did NOT, like Asuka at all but I really love her character though, and I felt for her a lot throughout the series.

I did not ship them either because honestly, Shinji and Asuka seemed better off playing the sibling dynamic instead of trying to play bf/gf which honestly is kind of forced by their living situation. Also since they’re in a similar disposition non existent father and dead mother, you’d imagine they would rely on each other for emotional comfort. Though Asuka—her personality I feel like she can’t differentiate between familial love and romantic love and the affection she wants is a bit of both. But, her character tries to be “mature”; she wants romantic love more and does this through sexual means and romantic gestures e.g. like kissing. One of my friends told me that you can’t stay friends as a boy and a girl cause eventually you catch feelings. Which I say is kinda dumb cause I have a lot of male friends, and I definitely don’t harbour those feelings, but I guess it’s a common phenomena.

I think this is what happens in this case, of Asuka and Shinji. Even after rejection of instrumentality they actually are depicted as childhood friends. But knowing how they both were before to each other, it was not good tbh. Also to mention the choking like thrice— bro if anything, this showcases a really abusive relationship and I think this outstretches the idea of their character tropes. Which I firmly stand by saying they’re superficial to each other. AsuShin were never really there for each other and are using each other in a forced situation. However, you can’t deny that they didn’t at some point catch feels, also Shinji is pretty consistent how he still cares about everyone around him. Which I really like how they add that to his character because it reminiscent of Yui, because you see a duality of both his parents personality in Shinji throughout the series—it’s a really nice touch. But bruh, if we gonna talk about that coma scene—I’m out LOL.

Thoughhhh, she is a true definition of best girl I really like her arc, fighting drive, and her skills as an Eva pilot 😭💗--but bruh she’s still a toxic and sometimes annoying tsundere trope, but still she’s 14 what can you do. So I feel like Kensuke and Asuka are actually a pretty good combo, cause he’s always been pretty mature even without parents. Also Asuka was into older guys, so I guess this is a win win?? Also Rei and Shinji, I honestly cannot get my head around it cause that’s pretty much his mom—so in a way that’s like either his half-sister or mom-ish clone?? Idk but Yui is definitely the donor LOL.

Kaworu and Shinji I felt like brought a bunch of things out of each other. I don’t know which timeline begins first, but I’d like to think the manga, the anime (plus its movies), and then to the rebuild series. Because I think that order is kind of pivotal to observing Kaworu’s character development from being a person who’s trying to understand human feelings to then the kinder person we see in the final series. You can tell how he’s changed and he knows Shinji a lot more as well as being considerate to him e.g. giving him personal space or letting him work at his own pace. Also that “we’ll meet again.” Is an obvious nod to how he’s done this before.

His literal story in every timeline is always romantic LOL, like bruh I can’t remember which game it was but basically a bad ending of Kawoshin route is that you reject Kaworu and he starts the third impact 🤡. Also I don’t know why but I started to see a weird dynamic between those two, in the manga their interactions reminded me of Asuka and Shinji—which Shinji is the tsundere Asuka here. I don’t know if this is relevant but the older character relative to the character they’re with seems to play off a mature vs a childish person trope. Asuka is younger than Shinji and Shinji is actually younger than Kaworu. Then again I could be overseeing this but istg manga Kaworu and Shinji mirror the whole Asushin dynamic. Like he’s seriously agressive against Kaworu, then after killing him he admits liking him. 🤡 I don’t know which is funnier no homo Shinji, homophobe shinji, or just closet Shinji who needs to realise sexuality is a spectrum so he could’ve idk—come out as bisexual, but whatever manga Shinji lol that timeline is over.

Anyways the development of these two is real and I think the rebuild timeline shows them at their best bringing their own personage out from each other like how they both enjoy music together--WHICH I’M SO SAD WE NEVER GET TO SEE THAT CELLO AGAIN. Then there’s those feelings of humanity, love, kindness, etc. Which yeah an angel could represent those things, but Kaworu is still his own person, self-aware of a cycle and if you think about how he initially was there to USE Shinji, but ultimately turned on that plan set by SEELE because he loved Shinji (and a bunch of other things like him showing Kaworu humanity). I also can see the argument, how “ideal” Kaworu is to Shinji, but he’s more self aware of the time he has before he KNOWS he’ll die and knows how to act for himself in that duration to make the most of it. All with Shinji. At some point, I think he fell in love with Shinji tho I don’t know where it began tbh—considering that all those alternate universes do exist. Kaworu does romantically love Shinji--so, in some universe they both reciprocate their feelings to each other. 

In the last movie during that convo with Shinji. Like bREH it’s so emotionally moving because Kaworu remembers ALLLLL the timelines and how he’s been with Shinji and later Shinji himself recalls the events too. Where they show the scene from the manga and anime. Kaworu cries after being set free from the EVA cycle. Which, I definitely understood what he meant by him saying “it’ll be lonely” and how Shinji changed or that he’s actually different this time.

Either way, Shinji did right by him because it’s always Kaworu who has the purpose of “trying to save Shinji” but it always ends up the same. I thought that was really moving because Shinji tells Kaworu he’s gonna let him live a life for himself for once and he wants the same for everyone as well. Which was honestly so meaningful cause I think Kaworu’s character and like Rei too when they start to realise how to “live” like a person and not another puppet it’s truly liberating. Another thing I forgot, bruh Kaworu calls Gendo his father and ngl I feel like this is kind of a weird lore situation because I for sure don’t think he’s the donor. I think he calls him that as an insult because he knows Gendo’s whole doing and relative to Shinji—I kind of see it as a joke LOL. Like it’s equivalent to saying, “daddy chill”, or “hey look it’s daddy and his plans to end the world” also I kind of like to think of it as a father in law thing cause you know, Kawoshin *winks amirite*

The ending, I’m honestly hoping is just an open ending because it gives everything an actual start of their adult lives not being dictated by extraterrestrial forces. Though, I’m kind of wondering if the world doesn’t have EVAs does that still mean everyone else still has the same backstory, and do they remember? Maybe Mari really is just a coworker lmfao, and there’s still a chance for Kaworu and Shinji cause ngl, they did have a convo (presumably from the spoilers) about still remaining close afterwards and that stare at the ending seems very hopeful.

I call bs from Anno saying, “oh Shinji is based off him and Mari off of his wife”, like honestly any OCs made theres always some part of yourself made into that character. Which is probably why a lot of people relate to the characters in EVA because they’re based off real things (e.g. those war machines characters are named after and people around them). I think why Kaworu and Rei are together at the end, is bc they’re very much the same. They’re mass produced dolls—which oddly enough that’s the case for all the children except they don’t recall the loop. Kind of funny also how both Kaworu and Rei became farmers lmfao so ig it runs in the family (yes that’s right I like the idea that they’re siblings it was always noted that they’re like “the same”).

Another thing, i think why the rebuild really did well for Kawoshin and in my opinion canonised it—the convo with elder Ryoji Kaji (Misato’s baby daddy) that there was a time he felt incredibly lonely and depressed thinking Misato didn’t love him and so he started looking out for himself. So self love and found himself a hobby in farming which he suggests to Kaworu—basically saying he might feel like Shinji doesn’t love him but he’s gotta remember to take care of himself. if I go thru a breakup ill feel like it’s the end of the world but Kaji says y’a gotta self love broe and take care yo self gad dam fam 😭 💗.

Though, that look at the end from Shinji to Kaworu—I’d like to believe there is still hope that one day when they’re a bit stable in their adult lives, they’ll run into each other.

[glimmerglanger]

Whumptober 2020 - Day 13

Part 13 of the oof!au. There’s a lot of hurt to go around and not a lot of sleep.

General Information: Post Order 66 Vader-Captures-Obi-Wan AU. Eventual happy(ish) ending. (Getting closer). Past/eventual Codywan. Past one-sided Vaderwan.

Warnings: Fall-out from past torture, captivity, mind control, and non-con. Guilt.

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE?

Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

Communication with the few people Obi-Wan had left to trust in the galaxy wasn’t easy, but he remembered how to do it, sending a coded message off to Alderaan, hoping for the best. He knew an immediate answer was unlikely, but lingered on the bridge, anyway.

The alternatives were not appealing. He knew he ought to, really, go to the quarters he’d been given. He’d visited the room, once, during the time they’d spent aboardship. The walls had been grey, and for a moment, standing in the doorway, he’d had a jarring sense of being in two places at once.

He’d held onto the doorframe with his hand, breathing slow and steady through his nose, making himself focus on the present, the way he’d learned to do long ago, the first time he’d come back from a mission that left behind more than physical scars. The room on the ship had a little bed, sheets neatly tucked in, and even a viewport.

There was no drain in the floor. In fact, the door set off to one side implied the presence of an actual fresher. Maybe even a sonic shower. There hadn’t been time to enjoy such a luxury with the ship broken down and dying. Obi-Wan had managed to step inside the room, to remain there for less than a minute before he had to open the door again and stumble out, backwards, going until his back bumped the far wall, his heart beating too fast in his chest.

“Sir?” Cody had asked, emotions a knot that Obi-Wan couldn’t work through, ragged concern in his voice.

And Obi-Wan had managed to say, wondering why Cody had been in the hall outside his quarters, “We should get back to work.”

There was no work to be done, while he waited for a message back from Bail. He fiddled with small repairs on the bridge, and breathed a sigh of relief when a reply came through, sparing him the need to make further excuses to avoid his quarters and the silent stillness within them.

The reply he got, short and coded, limited as much as possible to give nothing away if it were intercepted, included coordinates and a brief message. He decoded it and read it over twice, before Cody said, frowning at the screen, “That’s deep in Wild Space.”

“It is,” Obi-Wan said, considering the travel time of such a voyage, wondering what would be waiting at the other side. He knew barely anything about the rebellion that Bail mentioned in the missive. Nor could he imagine why anyone in it would be happy to see him.

“Is that where we’re going?” Tektek asked, walking over from the station he’d been repairing; weapon’s systems, Obi-Wan thought, the lay-out of the bridge wasn’t quite the same as the Negotiator’s had been.

Obi-Wan shrugged, staring at the coordinates. “That’s up to everyone, I suppose.” He glanced over at Tektek, working a smile onto his mouth. “You can all go wherever you like.” There was, at least, a kind of relief in that realization. 

His men - this portion of them, anyway, and Obi-Wan did not know how many more survived - were free. Freer even than they’d been during the War. Free from the orders of the Senate, free from any minders that might have been sent after them from Kamino, free from the control in their heads. They could go and do whatever they liked. Finally.

“Sure,” Tektek said, a little frown on his face, “so where are you going?”

Obi-Wan reached up to rub at his chin with a hand he didn’t have anymore and closed his eyes, briefly, marshalling his expression. “I suppose,” he said, when his voice felt steady, “I’ll go see what’s waiting at the end of these coordinates.”

He had nothing else better to do. He could return to Tatooine, but… it seemed unlikely Luke needed his protection, anymore. He’d run, after his first trip to Mustafar, tried to bury himself away from all the rest of the galaxy.

It hadn’t worked.

There seemed to be little point to trying the same thing again.

“Set a course,” Cody said, and Obi-Wan turned to blink over at him.

“You don’t have to take me there,” he said, cautiously, because Cody’s emotions were always held so tightly. He felt like he was walking on a wire, like he was waiting for an explosion. His men were hurt inside, he could feel it, and he still didn’t know how to help. He’d tried to apologize several times, but it got him nowhere. He got the distinct feeling that having him around made them feel worse. And so he swallowed and said, evenly as he could, “This is your ship--”

“Our ship,” Cody interrupted, echoed by Tektek and the other troopers around the room.

Obi-Wan’s heart ached. He didn’t know how he was hurting them, or how to make it stop, but he was touched that they still wanted to include him. “Our ship, then,” he said. “But, if you want to drop me--”

“We don’t,” Cody bit out, emotions all sharp edges, just for a moment, gaze snapping up, his eyes dark and fierce.

Obi-Wan held his gaze - it was rare, Cody seemed to avoid looking directly at him, most of the time - and said, “I’d like to give everyone the option to decide.”

Cody blinked and then shrugged. “Of course,” he said, and then looked away, jaw clenched before he continued, “Do you want to go alone?”

Obi-Wan thought of his quarters, the empty cell on Mustafar, his hovel on Tatooine, and shuddered. He said, before he could stop himself, “No. I -- no. Not alone. But--”

“There you are,” Bones interrupted, storming into the room with a scowl, and it took Obi-Wan a moment to realize he was talking to Cody. “I told you to get down to the infirmary after the situation was resolved.”

“It wasn’t resolved,” Cody shot back, and Bones scowled at him.

Obi-Wan slipped towards the door while they were arguing. He thought, perhaps, he’d better ask around, make sure his men really wanted to head off into Wild Space. Force knew they deserved the choice to determine their own future, and if it kept him busy, well…

So much the better. Moving helped him stay awake, in any case. And he wasn’t ready to risk sleeping.

#

All of his men - they weren’t really his men anymore, he knew that, they were their own people - seemed to want to head off to Wild Space. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps they just didn’t know where else to go, yet. Perhaps they wanted to stick together.

He understood that. 

Obi-Wan spoke to as many people as he could find, eventually ending up near one of the group freshers on the ship. He stood outside for a moment, feeling gritty and filthy, mind buzzing with loud exhaustion.

He couldn’t recall the last time he’d bathed properly, the last time he’d been able to just stand under water for as long as he wanted and clean himself off. He knew he stank. There was blood caked over his skin, peeling off here and there, augmented with oil and filth from ship repairs.

There were troopers in the room. He felt their presence and reached his hand out, almost touching the door controls.

There had been communal baths at the Temple. Beautiful, tiled rooms with pools of various temperatures, to accommodate Jedi from different worlds. Some had been fresh water, others salt, some had contained nutrients that gave Obi-Wan a terrible rash, but brought on the colors in Master Fisto’s skin.

He’d grown up playing in the pools, relaxing, surrounded by those he cared about, by his family.

The Jedi were all dead. Aside from Master Yoda, he did not know for sure that any others survived, though he hoped, he hoped so desperately that his message had gotten through, that there were others out there, safe and hidden and--

And he shoved all of those thoughts aside. He just wanted to be clean. He’d scrubbed down around his men - not his men, their own men - before, during the war. But - but his presence hadn’t hurt them, then. Being around him didn’t make their emotions stain out into the Force, so thick that it tightened his throat.

He took a step back, turned, and made himself go to his quarters. It was just a room. Just a few walls and a bunk. It had a fresher of its own and he worked to keep his breathing steady as the door closed at his back.

He focused on his pulse - racing - as he walked across the room, tugging off the blacks he’d been wearing for too many days. He left them piled on the floor, reaching out to turn on the water - he didn’t want a sonic shower, not then - and freezing as he caught a look at himself in the mirror.

He’d not… seen himself for some time. Not in anything but the reflections off of Anakin’s helmet. He’d managed to convince himself that those were, for the most part, warped. Perhaps they hadn’t been. 

His hair was a tangle, grown to hang over his ears and in his face. There was so much white in it, far more than he remembered even from Tatooine. His beard was starting to grow back in, stubbly across his cheeks and jaw. White in that hair, too, he noted.

There were dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks cut sharp. He’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose. Too many ribs stood up against his skin. No wonder the troopers kept trying to get him to eat; he’d lost count of how many nutrient packs they’d brought him over the days of repair. 

His skin bore new scars. He could see the edges of the brands Anakin had left on his back, the burns raised and red. His gaze roamed across the mirror until he couldn’t avoid, any longer, looking at his left arm.

It just...stopped, a bit above where his elbow had once been, and he shuddered, hearing Anakin’s voice in his head, staring across into the past, into Tektek’s eyes, Anakin saying, “This is fair, isn’t it? You deserve this, don’t you?”

Obi-Wan made it to the toilet before he gagged, vomit rising up his throat so suddenly it made him dizzy. He spat down into the bowl, afterwards, shivery all over and breathing hard. The smell of burned skin was stuck in his nose. He needed to bathe. That was all. Needed to get clean. It would help, he knew from experience.

The water was hot, when he stepped under it. He scrubbed at his hair, at his skin, vicious with the movements, watching filthy water swirl around his feet and down the drain. Eventually, the water ran clear. Obi-Wan braced his hand against the wall and let the water run over him, the warmth feeding the exhaustion in his head.

He didn’t remember the last time he had slept. Whatever he’d done in the bacta, back on Mustafar, it hadn’t been restful. Nothing on Mustafar had been restful. Whatever he’d done as Cody carried him away hadn’t been sleep, either. Unconscious wasn’t the same as sleeping.

He shivered, turning off the water eventually. There was a towel, hanging outside the stall. He grabbed it and learned how to dry off with one hand. There was a little clothing locker out in the room. It had a set of blacks - clean - in it. Obi-Wan pulled them on quickly.

He liked having clothes to wear, again. It made him feel… further away from everything Anakin had done, even if they didn’t fit right. He knotted the left sleeve, awkward with only one hand, and then stood there, breathing.

Exhaustion battered at the back of his eyes. He knew, perfectly well, that he ought to lay down and sleep. It would help. He’d always done what he needed to do. So he marched stiffly over to the bed and made himself lay down.

The mattress and pillow were nothing special. They felt the same as his bed on the Negotiator. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep. That was what he needed. He’d recovered from - well, perhaps not worse.

But he’d recovered. Before. From similar torture.

He’d had help.

He exhaled and closed his eyes, stretching out his mind throughout the ship, checking on the troopers. They all felt worn thin. Exhausted. Hurt and aching. He did what he could to soothe them, the dark behind his eyes getting heavier, harder to hold at bay, and he slept. Briefly.

He dreamed of hands holding him down, fingers burning hot as brands pressed into his skin, smoke rising off of his body as he thrashed and tried to get away, unable to scream as Anakin stepped behind him, lowering a long, slightly curved brand, glowing white hot, pushing it--

Obi-Wan jerked awake with a whine caught behind his teeth, sweaty under his clothes, breathing raggedly, his blood pounding wildly in his veins. According to the chrono beside the mattress, he’d been asleep around an hour. 

“Force,” he panted out, shaking, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and resting his elbow on his thigh, hanging his head down, trying to control his breathing. He could still feel the burning. Still smell char in his nose. He pushed to his feet, swaying for just a moment, and swallowed bile.

Sleep could wait, he decided. Surely there was something on the ship that needed doing. He stepped out of the room to find Cody walking down the hall, a frown on his face and his hands clenched at his sides. Cody paused as his door opened and said, “I thought you were sleeping.”

Obi-Wan made his mouth curve up in the edges. “Not tired,” he lied. “Thought I’d get something to eat.”

Cody’s gaze cut to the side. He nodded, said, “Alright,” and followed Obi-Wan, without another word, down to the mess hall.

#

There were other troopers eating, when they arrived. Obi-Wan grabbed a nutrient pack. They watched him, all of them, keeping an eye on him as he crossed the room, their emotions bunching up from his presence.

He paused beside Tektek, looking at his recently shaved head, and asked, thoughts jerky and uncoordinated with exhaustion, “Are there scissors around here, somewhere? A razor?” His hair hung too long, falling into his face, and he hated--

Hated the memories of fingers clenched in it, of Anakin, pulling him around by the strands, forcing his head down and--

“Yes, sir,” Tektek said, looking up at him, grip tightening on his fork for a moment. 

“Do you think I could borrow them?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to smile and not quite managing it, trying to be normal, trying to be...whatever it was they needed him to be, to stop them all radiating such agony into the Force. He glanced down at himself and said, aiming for rueful, “I don’t know how well I’ll do, but anything is better than this.”

“I’ll help you, General,” Mav said, standing from where he’d been sitting across from Tektek. He had - perhaps of all of Obi-Wan’s men - gone through the most different styles during the war. He’d never quite settled on one he liked. Or perhaps the different choices were what he liked, in and of themselves. 

“You don’t--” Obi-Wan started, but Mav had already turned on his heel and marched off. Obi-Wan blinked, watching him go.

Tektek said, “Sit here, sir, he’ll be back in a moment,” and Obi-Wan had thought they didn’t want him around - he made them hurt - but it must not have been so terrible. Perhaps they could just tell how much he didn’t want to be alone.

He sat, with a little smile, Cody pulling out the chair beside him and joining them, wordlessly. Cody, he noted, with a sideways glance, still looked exhausted, hurt radiating out of him. Obi-Wan needed to have a word with Bones.

He opened his nutrient pack, sighed at the contents - still better than the gruel he’d subsited on under Anakin’s care - and took a bite, aware of glances being exchanged over his head. Conversation resumed, slowly, as he ate.

“We were talking about what to name the ship,” Tektek offered, his food finished, though he made no effort to get up. “What do you think we should name her?”

Obi-Wan glanced up, surprised he was being asked. “What’s her name, now?”

It was Cody who answered, flat, as Mav made his way back through the room, supplies in his arms. He said, “The Executioner.”

Obi-Wan grimaced, swallowing the last bite. He’d learned to eat quickly very young, and never forgotten how. It was so much harder for people to take food away from you if you’d already swallowed it. He said, “Yes, I think we can do better than that. Are you keeping her, then?”

Tektek glanced towards Cody and then shrugged. “We thought, sir, well. This is one of the Empire’s new models. She’s built to fight. Be a shame to let her go to waste.”

Obi-Wan nodded. He thought about Coruscant, about the Temple, about all of his family, slaughtered, about his men, turned inside out and trapped in their own minds. Anakin had done many things, but he hadn’t been the architect of all this suffering.

“It would,” he agreed, finally, as Mav reached them and deposited his supplies on the table.

He’d found a brush somewhere, and Obi-Wan felt an embarrassing sting in his eyes just from the sight of it. It had been...a long time, since he’d brushed his hair. Mav reached out, making to touch his shoulder, and then froze when Cody made a sharp, abrupt noise, stiffening beside him.

Their emotions were a painful tangle, so many emotions, all trying to tug Obi-Wan down. He felt so tired; it made them more difficult to handle. He braced his hand on the table, reeling with it all as Mav asked, “Sir, is it -- can I--?”

Obi-Wan managed a nod, after a moment. “Yes,” he said. “Go right ahead.”

And Cody stayed tense as a compressed spring beside him, as Mav tried to work through the tangles, eventually giving up and cutting out the worst of the knots. The troopers around them bandied names back and forth as Mav worked, and each hank of hair that fell made Obi-Wan feel lighter, until he thought he might float away.

“How short do you want it?” Mav asked, eventually.

And Obi-Wan said, “Shorter,” without even thinking about it. He didn’t want it long enough for anyone to twist fingers into it, he wanted--

“I can clip it,” Mav said, cautiously, and Obi-Wan nodded.

The razor buzzed at the back of his head, slicing away more of the hair, until Obi-Wan could imagine that all the parts Anakin had touched were gone, laying around him across the floor, and they shouldn’t have done this in the mess hall, but…

“There you go,” Mav said, when he finished, turning off the razor, and Obi-Wan reached up to run his hand over the top of his head. The hair wasn’t shaved completely. It prickled his palm. He didn’t think he’d had it so short since his Padawan days, and--

“Thank you,” he said, looking up and crooking a smile onto his mouth. Mav nodded; he felt… steadier, through the Force. Not so raw and shredded as he gathered things up, and Obi-Wan said, quietly, “So, about the name.”

“I was thinking,” Cody said, tone stiff and flat, and he hadn’t moved, though he was long finished his meal, “The Recompense.”

Obi-Wan froze, swallowing, but his men - they were their own men - well, if anyone deserved a chance for justice, a chance to make things right… He nodded, and said, “A good choice.” And he was happy to just sit there, listening to them all discuss it, for a while.

#

Obi-Wan couldn’t just sit in the mess hall forever, as much as he wouldn’t have minded. Bones swung by, eventually, told him he looked exhausted, and pointedly suggested he ought to go sleep.

Obi-Wan didn’t have the energy to fight, so he nodded and made his way towards his quarters. He tried to sleep again. He made it a few hours, before he was roused, the taste of vomit in his mouth and the burning memory of Cody’s hands blazed across his skin.

He got up.

Over the next days of travel he snagged pieces of sleep here and there, knowing, deep down, that he needed more. He sorted away his own nightmares, working through them, but when he was sleeping… the pain of everyone else on the ship tended to slip into his head.

He didn’t only have his nightmares, in the days that followed.

He dreamed the dreams of others, and they all featured him, every single one. He closed his eyes and watched himself scream - had he looked like that? - and felt himself struggling against a borrowed body, as, in the dreams, he did terribly things to his own body, and--

And he knew he needed sleep, but… Staying awake hurt less.

#

They’d nearly reached the coordinates where they were to stop when Obi-Wan found a little room where some of the troopers had gathered - they were cleaning their blasters, almost silent - and he slipped inside, settling in a corner. They noticed him, he felt their emotions shift at his presence, but none of them said anything.

They just… glanced his way as he folded his legs and drew his back straight. They’d likely gotten used to him meditating. He’d done it often, once upon a time. He tried to sink down into the Force, looking for serenity within his mind, and jarred, just a little, when Cody came through the door a few minutes later.

Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed, kept focusing. 

Meditating would help restore his energy, somewhat. He drew in a deep breath, planning to order his thoughts, and sleep snuck up on him, swallowing him down.

#

Obi-Wan dreamed of burning shackles around his wrists - both of them - and Anakin, as he’d been once, but with burning yellow eyes, snarling, “This is what you deserve, isn’t it? Say it!” And pain and pain and pain and--

He woke with his heart trying to beat out of his chest, trying to tear through his ribs. There were hands on his shoulders, familiar and well-known, a voice saying, “--up, just a dream, it’s--”

Obi-Wan lurched, snapping his eyes open, his veins burning and his gut hard, reaching out for the Force, desperately, trying to tell what was real and what was only in his head. Cody was - was crouched in front of him, touching him -- holding him down, fingers digging into his skin -- radiating horror and concern and guilt and--

Obi-Wan flinched, couldn’t help it, a reflex in his spine making him pull back, trying to scramble away. He felt Cody’s emotions flare out even as he jerked his hands off of Obi-Wan’s shoulders. And that was worse, somehow, being alone, again -- laying in an empty cell, alone, nothing but the drain and -- 

Cody froze, went still and stiff, emotions blanking, and there was movement, past his shoulder, sudden and jerking. Obi-Wan flinched again, curling his arm up, automatic to protect his head, strangling off a cry in his throat, and Cody twisted to look over his shoulder, snarling, “Get back! All of you! Now!”

Obi-Wan listened to them scramble back, their emotions all torn to shreds, pulling him deeper into a spiral of his own making. Shame and horror surged through Obi-Wan. He knew it hurt them to be around him, he should have been more cautious. They all felt agonized, flayed open, and he worked to control himself, to pull the nightmare apart into wisps, clearing his throat to rasp, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Cody said, voice cracking.

“I know I failed you all,” Obi-Wan said, the edges of their dreams still curled up in his head. He could just close his eyes, feeling exhaustion digging its poisonous fingers into his brain, letting the words spill out. “I don’t blame you. For wanting to stay away from me. I--”

“Obi-Wan,” Cody sounded like he’d been gut-shot again. It was the first time he’d said Obi-Wan’s name in...so long. Obi-Wan shivered at the sound of it. Even during the war, it had been rare for Cody to use his name. He’d saved it for those special occasions, when he thought Obi-Wan was going to die.

“I’m very tired,” Obi-Wan said, trying to offer Cody a way out of this conversation, a way forward. And it was true, anyway.

“I’ll get you back to your quarters,” Cody said, softly, and Obi-Wan nodded. He should have never imposed on them, anyway.

#

Shouting woke Obi-Wan from a dream of clawing hands and teeth, eating into him. He jerked, terror translating over into the waking world for a moment--

And he reached out with the Force, trying to find out what was going on, and the first thing he touched was Cody’s mind, close by, overfull with fierce, bright emotions, all burning edges, protectiveness and anger blazing out of him.

“Sir!” a voice yelled from the doorway as light flooded in, and Obi-Wan’s memories slotted into place. He’d… fallen asleep in his bunk. He had no idea how long he’d slept, but his head felt heavy. “We’ve reached the coordinates,” Shortfuse said, worry and excitement moving through him. “And there’s a ship waiting, sir. Thought you’d want to know.”

“Kriff,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing at his face, glad to have something to focus on, something to hold onto. “I suppose we’d better go see who it is.”

#

“I’m not sure you should be here,” Cody said, five minutes later, as they reached the docking port on the ship. He’d said it three times already, expression flat and emotions tightly contained. “We can handle this.”

“So can I,” Obi-Wan said, lightly, checking the blaster in his hand again. He disliked using the weapons, but he disliked more the idea of using Anakin’s bloody red lightsaber, ever again. He listened to the docking ports whirl and hum, stretching out his senses towards the other ship, shivering at what he picked up, hesitating to believe it was real. 

“Besides,” he said, as the airlock hissed, preparing to open, “I don’t think we’re going to have trouble.”

It had been years since he’d felt the mind on the other side of the door. And it was not...quite the same. There were major differences. But…

He held his breath as the airlock rose, caught a flash of white, and heard Cody make a harsh, flat sound. Cody grabbed him - apparently not so leery of touching him, now - and yanked him back a step, blaster up and drawn on the man in trooper armor on the other side of the door, who was also moving, shoving the figure with him back a step, moving in front of her, blaster raised.

Obi-Wan gripped Cody’s wrist, forcing his hand down, snapping, for the benefit of the rest of his men, “Don’t shoot! No one fire a shot, do I make myself clear?”

And, from behind the trooper before them, a familiar voice said, cracking with shock, “Master Obi-Wan?”

Ahsoka stepped around the side of her partner - and Obi-Wan thought he recognized Rex’s mind, too, not understanding how that was possible - ignoring him when he tried to pull her back a step, hissing, “What the kriff are you doing?”

“They’re not chipped,” Obi-Wan said, staring forward, at a ghost. He’d thought Ahsoka dead, like all the rest of their family, but there she stood in front of him, taller and sharper, her montrals curved and pointed, but her eyes just the same, wide and shocked and aching.

“Master?” she croaked again, taking a step towards him, looking him up and down, her expression growing more and more horrified by the moment. And then she was to him, reaching out, and Cody made a hard, sharp sound in his throat, gripping Obi-Wan’s arm and pulling him bodily back a step.

“It’s alright,” Obi-Wan said, not sure who he was talking to, specifically. Perhaps all of them.

Past Ahsoka’s shoulder, the trooper in the airlock removed his helmet, familiar blond hair still trimmed short, a few new scars over his face, and Rex was alive; Ahsoka was alive. Bail had sent them to Obi-Wan, he’d--

Ahsoka made a hoarse sound, and threw herself at him, arms around his neck, pulling him close. Obi-Wan buried a flinch, an automatic drive to jerk away from her. He managed, after a moment, to curl his arm around her, instead, while, somewhere far away, Rex demanded, “What the kriff is going on?”

[many-gay-magpies]

@honeyseungz @loabivey so that uh. that mini au that you had like a very small rb thread about yesterday (well over a few days ago now that im posting this). well uh. um . actually you know what im just gonna let you read it yourselves

so. heeseung, jay, and sunoo are all brothers. wether its actual brothers or just "brothers" by blood bond or whatever idk. but, regardless, they're brothers. im thinking that like, at first they aren't vampires, theyre just regular dudes yknow? (and just a forewarning, a lot of this isnt gonna be as compliant with the enhaverse theorizing we've done so far, it's just a little brain worm i wanted to play around with, throwing a little bit of enhaverse crumbs in here and there)

but anyway. they're not vampires, im thinking theyre just like... adopted/found family brothers, probably orphans or something. regardless they love each other a lot and its great. personality-wise everything is super different, but just for plot conveniences, heeseung, jay, and sunoo are the yunmeng trio (heeseung as wwx, jay as jc, and sunoo as jyl respectively), and jungwon is lwj.

the three brothers meet jungwon, probably brought together by this Big Fantasy Evil, maybe something involving the vampire queen as a character? idk. there's some big evil shit going down, and the three brothers somehow end up with jungwon and HIS big bro, who im imagining is jake (basically the lan xichen in this situation—very soft, kind, gentle; the vibes are right). both of them are vampires, not that our three orphan bois know that. they get caught up in the danger, and vampire bros jake and jungwon coms to the rescue.

now, a little bit of personality-mapping here: jay is outwardly very loud, fun, temperamental, and sarcastic, generally very much like he is irl; but inside, he's intensely loyal, protective, and loving, with a HUGE soft spot for the people closest to him. sunoo is very sweet, sensitive, and kind—the walking hug of the three brothers, who is certainly not without his bite and wont hesitate to talk back to anyone who hurts them. aggressively and without mercy. also he makes them soup for comfort and is generally best boy. heeseung is very goofy, playful, free-spirited, and bright, but insecure and sensitive underneath it all; generally a loud annoying mess of a boy. pure chaotic neutral and a gremlin if there ever was one. jungwon, on the other hand, is... not. he's nervous, quiet, cautious to a fault and intensely righteous, always standing up for what's right and refusing to waver from his chosen path. very lawful good vibes. he, naturally, is more than a little put off when jay, sunoo, and heeseung's chaotic ass come crashing into he and his brother jake's once-peaceful (ish) lives. and it doesn't help that heeseung is a... huge flirt, and apparently deadset on making jungwon his friend. fuck.

jungwon... doesn't know what to do. and it would all be so much easier if heeseung were dumb or stupid or unattractive or just a total asshole—but he isnt any of those things. he's beautiful, smart, insanely witty with a brain faster than any jungwon's ever seen—he can't help but admire him. but on top of that, he's wreckless as hell, unpredictable, and pushy, and gives jungwon heart attacks way too much for his liking. he doesn't even have a heartbeat. he's fucking dead.

it eventually comes out that jake and jungwon are vampires; the brothers are surprisingly cool with it. not the craziest thing that's happened to them.

the five boys get closer, staying together as they fight their foe (which im becoming increasingly inclined to make the werewolves), and through a series of convoluted events, jungwon learns that heeseung is not only gorgeous, smart, talented, and funny as all get-out, but also sensitive, caring, insecure, and thoughtful... and heeseung, who's only goal had been to break through the nervous and straightforward outer shell of his young dongsaeng, does just that. and jungwon, naturally, starts to fall in love.

somewhere along the line, though, things go wrong—as they were bound to do in an au loosely based off of the untamed. something happens to heeseung; he's fatally wounded after saving jay's life, and disappears, nowhere to be found. his brothers eventually assume the worse; that he's gone forever. but the queen finds him, takes care of him, nurses him back to health. turns him.

when he comes back, nothing's the same. the war is still going, and his brothers thought he was dead—but he isn't. but he's... different. jungwon and jake are quick to realize that he's been turned, how, they dont know—but they talk to him, teach him, try to help him, jungwon especially. of course he does; he's in love. heeseung, of course, is dismissive; doesn't take it seriously. ill be fine, whats so bad about this? or, perhaps, he doesn't let on just how hard he's taking it; fearing vulnerability more than he fears being a vampire.

inevitably, though, heeseung's wrecklessness leads to doom—he lets his bloodlust overtake him, relishes in it, no matter how much jungwon had warned him against it, pleaded with him to take caution. he says it's usefull—says he can help them take out enemies, help them win this war. jungwon warns him that he could end up getting more than he bargained for. heeseung doesn't listen.

heeseung helps them win the war; practically wins it for them. hes happy, bitterly, until he isnt. he's happy, until he sees his brother—sees sunoo. blood-covered, pale-skinned, drained.

no.

heeseung is broken. jay even moreso. jay yells at him; yells and yells and yells and yells. curses him out, tells him he hates him, tells him he's nothing but cruel evil—he doesn't mean it, of course, but no one knows it then, not even him. now he is only angry; so, so angry. heeseung, wrought with guilt and shame and grief, flees—hides himself somewhere secluded, does the closest thing a vampire can possibly do to death, the equivalent of a thousand-year hibernation. none can find him, he's made sure of that. in his guilt and shame and anger he stews, asleep, for hundreds, thousands of years.

after the anger passes, jay is more than anything in mourning—for heeseung as well as for sunoo. he has a realization, that being that, when, inevitably, heeseung comes back, he doesn't want him to be alone: even if he'll have jungwon and jake, it won't be the same as having his brother. so jay pleads, cries, begs for jungwon to turn him—so that they can search for heeseung together, so that when heeseung comes back, he'll have jay waiting for him, too. so, reluctantly, jungwon gives in and turns jay—after which he helps him deal with his newfound immortality and vampiric status—helping him handle his bloodlust and helping him learn how to feed. over the centuries that heeseung is gone, jay, jungwon, and jake grow even closer (j line eyyy), inseparable as they search for heeseung and even outside of that. jungwon and jay are the closest, jay growing a colossal soft spot for the boy and not hesitating to take him under his wing and protect him with all he has (initially, sort of as a replacement for protecting heeseung, but eventually jay's affection for jungwon grows into something all it's own). to be clear, no love triangle bullshit here, only sickening-sweet platonic soulmates jaywon and a jungwon that is still achingly in love with heeseung.

(okay for anyone thats actually watched cql/read mdzs, yes i KNOW lwj and jc did not get along at all and kind of hated each other but. this is my au i do what i want, and if i want to add soft jaywon into the mix then im fucking going to, goddamnit)

OKAY TIME FOR SOME WACKY SIDE-PLOT MADNESS

so. sunghoon. how does he fit into all this? how does he end up being the one to trigger heeseung's "resurrection"? how does heeseung GET resurrected in the first place? well, not to worry, you're about to find out! and i am too because i'm just figuring this out as i go along baybyyyy

sunghoon, im thinking, is a friend of jake's (lets throw some jakehoon in here too bcs why not), either from before everything went to shit and heeseung went and isolated himself, or sometime during the numerous centuries jakewon spent looking for heeseung with jay. either way, sunghoon is this boy who jake is friends with and cares about a lot, and is also maybe kind of in love with. while jaywon spend most of their time looking for heeseung, jake spends his with sunghoon—finding himself often alone, now that his little bother is going off on his own adventures.

in a situation quite similar to heeseung's, sunghoon probably gets fatally injured somehow and is near death, but jake, not wanting him to die, decides to turn him instead. niki is also involved, and it's a sort of package deal, because before meeting jakewon, heeseung, and everyone, they were their own little thing; not unlike jay, heeseung, and sunoo's brother's triad. they were both probably orphans, niki being the much younger one, and as such sunghoon took him under his wing and never looked back. when jake turned sunghoon, niki was basically like "m8 what the fuck" and demanded he be turned too, not wanting his sunghoon-hyung to live on forever while he grew old and died. jake, also having a soft spot for niki, was like "fine alright" and turned him too. so, now their little vampire coven numbered five, and all was (moderately) well.

or not.

the thing was, jake hadn't anticipated how powerful sunghoon would be—there's nothing in life that anyone's found yet that would indicate a person's level of power once turned, so jake had... pretty much no way to see this coming. but, anyway, sunghoon was... really, really powerful. like, insanely powerful. all the abilities vampires were said to have in legends, the likes of which were previously reserved for just legends, he had them; flawless teleportation, mind control, shape-shifting, the whole bit. and on top of that, he was controlled—insanely good at monitoring himself and keeping tabs on his own instincts. one of the most self-sufficient, well-mannered vampires jake had ever seen. it was... frankly insane.

the problem? the queen. this is where she comes in, because she's played a part in all the boys' transformations, albeit indirectly—when jake and jungwon first turned, it was she who turned them. she could sense sunghoon's power, and she wanted it for herself. jake and jungwon had done well at avoiding her, even forgetting about her for a while; but what she wanted, she took, and take she did. it was sunghoon she took: luring him to her in small increments and then all at once, taking control of him, turning him into a mindless puppet. sunghoon had always prided himself in control, and without it, havoc wreaked: bodies dropping left and right, people being killed seemingly at random, their only purpose being to instill fear and paranoia.

now, niki had heard tales, before, from his hyungs but also from regular townspeople to whom the legend had gotten passed down, of heeseung, and how great and terrible he was. heeseung, the townspeoples' folktales said, had been insane, unstoppable: a mad genius far too gone for redemption. niki also knew from his hyungs' fond stories that heeseung, more than evil, was kind and caring; he was loyal, and powerful in his loyalty, and niki thought that if anyone could save his sunghoon-hyung, it was heeseung.

so niki went on a journey. without telling jaywon or anyone else (and thus causing quite the panic), he spent years searching for heeseung, everywhere jaywon had thought to look and everywhere they hadn't, and twice more for good measure. and, by some stroke of luck, either due to his own sheer force of will of something else entirely, niki found him: locked away in an old castle that never quite seemed to stay put, constantly phasing in between realities. it made sense why no one had found him before then—he didn't want to be found. desperately, in fact.

but niki, too, was desperate. he enacted a ritual that was said (by jake, so of course it was to be trusted) to wake any vampire that had gone into hibernation, and, miracles continuing to work for the bitter young boy, it worked. heeseung awoke—startled to find himself staring into the face of a very teary, very angry (visibly) sixteen-year-old.

confusion passed, things and motives were explained, and heeseung (although bitter at having been woken up, and still riddled with enough guilt to last 1500 lifetimes) attempted to patiently tell niki that he had no fucking idea how to help sunghoon whatsoever. niki pretty much said "well you better fucking find a way because you're not going back to sleep now, the world's about to fucking end. also jay and jungwon-hyung have been looking for you for literal centuries, do you know how pissed theyd be if i went out looking for you, found you, then came back empty-handed? really fucking pissed is how much. also sad. did i mention sad?" and heeseung, notoriously weak and also kind of (read: very) in love, is just like "...jungwon? jay?"

so niki brings heeseung back to the others, the return journey taking a long enough time that the two become significantly close to each other, heeseung's long-forgotten big brother instincts (tm) kicking in around the younger vampire. niki has to basically drag heeseung out of the castle by his teeth, because as much as he misses his brother and jungwon, he's still so incredibly guilty, and completely convinced that he isnt worth love or life whatsoever and that jay still hates his guts. and, jungwon... he doesn't even want to think about jungwon. how he failed him. how he let him down. but, niki slowly works through the insecurities, bit by bit: assuring heeseung that, no, even though jay will definitely rip him a new one once he sees him again, he'll also cry and hug him for at least 24 hours because he misses him like hell and heeseungie hyung you have no idea.

they weather a lot together. storms, mental breakdowns, bouts of blood-starvation so severe heeseung thinks he'll lose it again: but they're there for each other. they hunt, talk, keep each other warm, and in it, form an unbreakable bond. niki had heard tales of the legendary lee heeseung, who wiped out entire armies in two seconds flat and comforted his friends when they were sad and annoyed jay to the very ends of the earth: but what he's faced with is a man with more insecurities than niki has hairs on his head—and he has a lot of hairs on his head.

by the time they make it back to the coven's home, heeseung has grown sufficiently attached to the enigma that is niki, and has almost completely but it out of his mind that he's here for his old friends, too. he's only doing this for niki: it's a fact he's comfortable with. so when they reach the front steps he just... freezes.

i have a very clear image of it in my head—jungwon, jay, and jake sense niki's presence, in some weird vampire-y way. it's been around 10, 15 years since he left at this point, so of course they rush out to greet him, ready with scoldings and lashings about how stupid he had been (after, of course, making sure he's unharmed and alright)—but it all dies on their tongues as soon as they see who's with him.

frozen. everything is frozen.

i imagine it's a lot like lulu and artzyy's post. jungwon is the first to move, stepping forward and whimpering out a broken "hyung", and all heeseung's guilt and avoidance is forgotten in favor of cradling jungwon to his chest, holding him close and whispering reassurances into the crown of his head, wonnie, im so sorry, hyung's so sorry; i didn't mean to leave you for so long, i'm here now, its okay. and of course then jay comes in, crying and screaming about how the fuck is it okay, how can it ever be okay, how could you just not mean to leave us alone for 1500 years?! how the fuck do you just expect to waltz back into our lives like nothing ever happened and pretend its all okay?!? and then he hits him, and hurts him, tries to make him feel even an inkling of the hurt he was made to feel for the past fifteen hundred years—but then punching him turns into fisting hands into the back of his shirt and sobbing into his neck and holding him so tight he wouldn't be able to breath if he had the need to and please, please don't leave, why would you leave, you asshole, why did you leave?

so yeah. things happen. reunions are had, tears are shed. some indirect heewon love confessions probably happen later on in the form of very intense devotions of life and self and all that. "walking on the single-log bridge in the dark really isnt so bad" you know the whole shbang. meanwhile jay salty in the background just like "cant you just say you love each other like normal human beings jesus fucking christ"

jayseung's relationship (or the reigniting of it) is, well, rocky. they're both conflicted—jay even more than heeseung. because, the thing is, heeseung killed sunoo. as regretful as he is, that doesn't make it any easier to forget. but he's back, and alive, and in one piece, and he isn't leaving, and jay knows it wasn't really his fault, he wasn't in control—but he killed him. he killed their brother. and it WAS his own stupid fault for losing control in the first place, for not listening to jungwon, so what the hell is jay supposed to think? he flip-flops between being intensely grateful that heeseung is back and okay and finally with them again, and then remembering what he's done, giving him the cold shoulder and not speaking to him for hours on end. and all the while, heeseung is riddled with guilt, and shame, and grief he'd suppressed for far too long; niki's stubbornness combined with jungwon's unwavering support being the only things keeping him from bolting into oblivion all over again. all in all, it's a difficult time—but they get there. eventually.

naturally, they save sunghoon. what else is there to do? they defeat the queen, break her control over their friend—and then jakehoon have their own teary reunion, not unlike heewon's, and sungki have theirs, not unlike jayseung's (although with a... considerable decrease in cursing and conflicted emotions, and a lot more immediate sobbing). they're a mess—sunghoon is traumatized, heeseung is traumatized, jay and niki are traumatized, they're all just fucking traumatized. jayseung will probably take a long time to get back to the way they once were, if it's even possible—there'll always be an empty space there, something gone, something missing, and it's one that can't be filled. jungwon barely lets heeseung out of sight or touch alike, and heeseung isn't much better off. jay's always been the more touchy one out of the three of them; but after years of missing, of longing, there's plenty of time to be made up, and heeseung is just... so, so soft, and warm, and being held by him is the loveliest thing jungwon's ever known.

AND NOW A SUNOO THING, BECAUSE THE IDEA OF ENHA LIVING HAPPILY EVER AFTER AS OT6 WITH SUNOO JUST FUCKING DEAD DOES. NOT WORK FOR ME

so like. sunoo isn't dead, or he doesn't stay dead, or not the soulless-unmoving kind of dead anyway. you know how necromancy and fierce corpses exist in donghua and shit? well they exist here too because fuck you and also i said so. i made myself sad and now im making it happy again goddamnit.

anyway. after he dies, sunoo gets found by the queen, too, and because she's all-powerful and whatnot she fucking necromances him—figures he'll be useful later. as he is, though, he's basically nothing more than a puppet; like wen ning and song lan were when they were being controlled. his soul isn't... gone exactly, just imprisoned, prevented from being able to come forward and command his body.

so. sunoo is still partially alive, and the boys (jay, jake, jungwon, sunghoon, niki, and whatnot)... don't know that. i imagine that for pretty much the entirety of the centuries that heeseung is gone, sunoo's status as a necromanced fierce corpse goes entirely unknown to them, and it's only after heeseung is brought back by niki that he starts to resurface. i imagine they realize it in a sort of tense, action-filled scenario: the boys have gone to investigate another attack, thinking it's sunghoon, but as it turns out the queen has had TWO undead corpses running around doing her dirty work instead of one. and one of them is sunoo.

heeseung and jay, of course, are stunned. they cant believe it's real; it isn't real, it can't be—and yet.

a lot of angsty plot stuff happens—i dont have the energy or enough shits to give to figure out what. the thing is, the queen only kept sunoo this long and brought him out as a tactic to lure heeseung, make him weaker; and it probably worked. in the midst of both fighting against sunghoon and fighting to SAVE sunghoon, heeseung is bent on saving sunoo as well, and there's probably a lot of very angsty talk wherein there are disagreements about who's life, really, is more important in this situation, and if heeseung is just trying to make up for what he did to sunoo. regardless, heeseung ends up saving sunoo and bringing his soul back to the surface. what he doesn't expect is for sunoo to forgive him—fully and wholeheartedly. and it feels wrong, because no, you should be angry with me, you should hate me and want to hurt me like i hurt you; but sunoo is just... happy. happy that he's back, happy that heeseung is back, happy that they're all together again. and its conflicting, to say the least. even moreso because sunoo isnt stupid—he didnt just act like heeseung was an innocent who did no wrong; he knew he had been wreckless, knew he was at fault, and he forgave him still. loved him still. that was something heeseung... hadn't been prepared for.

like i said in the last part, they save sunghoon; how, im not sure, but they save him, probably with a fair bit of sunoo's help, and they're together again. only the tiny difference here is that sunoo is with them too. sunoo is back, and the gang has yet another undead bestie to teach the ropes of being a vampire to. things are awkward, obviously, especially between the original brother's trio of heeseung, sunoo, and jay; because sunoo is his usual sweet and kind self while jay believes that he should be more angry at heeseung for killing him, heeseung agrees, and jay has some very conflicted feelings about how self-depricating his hyung is being (because like... yeah you killed sunoo and im supposed to hate you but you're not supposed to hate yourself, you idiot, what the fuck?)

(also like. if we're gonna take some more crumbs from cql canon here im gonna go ahead and say sunoo's death was at least somewhat self-sacrificial, even if it was heeseung that ended up causing it in the end)

(i kind of love how jiang cheng-y i made enhaverse jay here to be honest)

(okay this has been in my drafts WAY too long because ive been waiting for some miraculous Other Detail i need to add to pop up in my mind, but honestly i can just add anything else i think of in a reblog afterwards, this bitch just needs to see the light of day)

[kaunis-sielu]

Three

A King’s oneshot

Chasing around three-year-old Nathaniel Grant Barnes was never, ever an easy task. Add in the five-year-old Victoria and three-year-old Felicity and you’re completely exhausted by nap time. Hell, you need a nap time too. You make your way quietly back down the stairs, baby monitor app open on your phone so you can see all three kids. You sigh heavily at the disaster that awaits you. Despite it being nearly 3:30 the leftovers from lunch are still on the table. Bits of macaroni are stuck to the table and to the floor and your bowl is still completely untouched on the counter. It’s a cold, clumpy mess at this point and the last thing you want to do is to reheat it in the microwave and wake one of the kids.

You always forget how much work the three are when you’re alone. If Nat, Clint, Peter or Wanda are around it’s a piece of cake, but since you’re the only parent who doesn’t actively run a gang you’re the best option to watch the kids. You turn the oven on and slide your bowl of macaroni in before turning to the rest of the mess. The three plastic bowls are taken off of the table, something that is usually Tori’s job, and rinsed out before they’re tucked into the dishwasher with their forks. Macaroni may not be the healthiest option but when you add spinach, green peppers and ham to it it makes you feel less guilty. You wipe the dried cheese off of the table, before sinking to your knees to wipe the floor. Thank god it’s laundry day tomorrow.

It’s not that you don’t love watching the kids, you do, it’s just sometimes you feel like you’re going into battle. You get the living room cleaned up in record time and are pulling your now warm bowl of macaroni out of the oven when you hear the voice.

“Tori.” It’s low and gravelly and makes your hair stand on end. “Tori. Wake up. I want to play.” It says and you stare at your phone in horror. What the fuck?

“Auntie?” Tori’s sleepy voice responds as she sits up.

“No Tori, it’s me your friend.” The voice says again and you drop the bowl you’re so terrified, hardly registering it shattering when it makes contact with the floor. You grab your phone off the counter and sprint up the stairs, before pausing outside the door and hear the voice again. It’s coming from exactly where you’d been afraid it was coming from.

The baby monitor.

You push open the door, and acting as calm as you can, give Tori a smile.

“Hey peanut. Did you say my name?”

“Yea Auntie. I heard a scary voice.” She mumbles and you want to throw up.

“Why don’t we all go snuggle in my and Uncle Bucky’s room?” You ask as Felicity’s sleepy head pops up. You say Bucky’s name clearly, wanting the fucker who’s watching your kids to know just exactly who they’re messing with.

“Okay.” Tori gets up and takes her sister’s hand before you scoop up Nate. The second you’re out of their room you’re herding the Rogers girls into the safe room in your closet. It’s not until the door is closed that you pull your phone from your pocket and call Bucky with a shaking finger.

“Hey Sweetheart, what’s up?”

“Cascade.” You tell him the code word for emergency.

“Are you safe?”

“In the room. Please come quickly.”

“Are they in the house?” You can tell he’s moving, “Steve. Cascade.” He snaps.

“No, watching us through the monitor. Not sure where else.”

“We’re on our way Sweetheart. I’ll open the door okay. Don’t move no matter what you hear.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He says before you hang up.

“Auntie?” Tori’s voice is quiet and when you look down at where she and Felicity are huddled against you the fear is evident on their faces.

“Hmm?”

“Lici is scared.” She says after a pause, Nate is holding tightly to your shirt, his small body tight against you.

“There’s no reason to be scared. We’re gonna see your dad and uncle Bucky soon, we’re gonna beat them at hide and seek I think. So you guys have to be quiet.” You lie with a small smile hoping she’s not old enough to see through your bullshit. “But, I can tell you a story if you want.” All three kids nod their heads and you launch into a mash up story about Little Red Riding Hood and The Three Little Pigs that, honestly, should be made into a movie.

There’s a metallic clicking noise at the door of the safe room and you pause, staring at the door. It’s clicks once more before opening to reveal one extremely stressed out Steve Rogers. He shoves his gun back into its holster as his daughters scramble to their feet and into his arms with twin cries of,

“Daddy!”

“We cleared the whole house and shut off all the video monitors. I’m going to have Hogan look into it.” Bucky says as he steps around Steve and pulls you tightly to him. He presses a kiss to Nate’s head before kissing you. “We’re all secure.” He whispers as you drop your head to his shoulder.

“Jesus that was terrifying Buck.” You say softly not paying much attention to Steve as he scoops up his girls, one in each arm and heads for the door.

“We’re going to the cabin for the weekend. See if Happy can fix this at our place too.”

“Okay.” Bucky agrees then the Rogers vanish out the door. You’re not quite ready to move out of his embrace yet, Bucky’s arms are secure around you, honestly you’re good with staying here.

“I’m sorry I called you home for this.” You mutter as you calm down, now that he’s here you feel like you may have overreacted a bit.

“Hey, no Sweetheart. You did everything exactly right.” He soothes. “I did find something that I’d like an explanation about though.”

“I first heard the voice through my phone when I was taking my food out of the oven.” You tell him, explaining why the oven door was still open and why the broken bowl and food were on the floor.

“Oh, that’s not what I’m talking about.” He says, his voice is oddly light and you pull away from him to look up into those bright blue eyes of his. He’s got a smile on his face as he pulls something from his pocket before raising it up so you can see it.

The pregnancy test you’d taken this morning. The one you’d completely forgotten about, and hadn’t even checked. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me Sweetheart?”

“Something you want to tell me Buck? I never got the chance to check it.” You tell him, “the kids kept me on my toes all day.”

“Well, hope you can handle one more.” He says and your face lights up, a wide smile gracing your lips.

“I’m pregnant?”

“Yea Sweetheart.” Bucky says a grin on his own face. He kisses you deeply, his hand tangling in your hair and long enough for Nate to give a grunt of irritation from being left out. Bucky laughs softly as you press a soft kiss to your son’s head.

“I am a little bummed that you found out first.” You tell Bucky, “I bought Nate this cute shirt that says upgraded to big brother and I was going to have him bring you the positive test.”

“We can do that to Steve and Peg if you want.”

“Can we have a little family party? Not tell anyone why so everyone finds out together?”

“I love that idea Sweetheart.” He says before kissing you again.

“Daddy no!” Nate cries grumpily and you laugh when you break away.

“Alright little man, you and I need to have a chat about being a cock block.”

“James!” You scold as he plucks your son from your arms.

“I’m just teasin’ Sweetheart.” Bucky says, “I am going to put him down in our room. This little monster needs a nap.” You nod looking at Nate’s tired eyes. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“Cameras are off?” Bucky nods.

“And Clint’s out front.” You make your way downstairs and into the kitchen to clean up your second macaroni disaster of the day. You’re having another baby. You can’t help the smile on your face as you make a new lunch. Maybe you’ll have another boy to match Steve and Peggy with their two girls. Or maybe a girl to completely outnumber the boys.

Whatever you’re having you hope they’re going to be as healthy and easy as Nate was. You rest a hand on your stomach as you think only for it to be covered by one of Bucky’s larger ones.

“What do you think we’re having?” He asks softly as his body presses protectively against yours.

“I don’t know. But I know they’re the luckiest kid to have such a wonderful and protective dad. You’re going to love the shit out of this kid.”

“Don’t forget about the best mom. I’m kind of hoping for a girl, a mini you runnin’ around.” He mutters pressing another kiss to your neck.

“Whatever we have I’m going to be happy because I’ve got you on my team.”

“What a hell of a team we make too.”

Tag list:

@abschaffer2 @dsakita @dramadreamer14 @thinkwritexpress-official @thesassmisstress @andahugaroundtheneck @loving-life-my-way @thefridgeismybestie @dumblani @silverkitten547 @im-just-another-monster @callie-bear15 @achishisha @bucky-ish @geeksareunique @courtmr @tuliptx @libbymouse @nishanki1 @nerd-without-a-cause @champagnejoker @megskay @tonyagibbs1297 @chennyetomlinson @h2octopuppy @marvel-is-a-mood @bookgirlunicorn @veganfangirl5 @georgialeighc13 @angels-pie @aveatquevale @sammysgirl1997 @whovianwriter @smashley816 @raph-maa @mywinterwolf @scuzmunkie @biskwitmamaw @geeksareunique @yourfellowangel @paintballkid711 @lumar014 @nea90sweetie

[megalony]

Hearts and Crosses

This is a King! Ben Hardy and Queen! Reader AU I’ve started that should have a few parts to it hopefully, it’s based on a Wonderland theme with ideas inspired by the book Heartless. I hope you all like it, feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem​ @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid​ @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Ben Hardy masterlist

Summary: King! Ben is invited to a Queen’s ball and his father wants him to form an alliance with the Queen, but Ben doesn’t like the reputation she has, but he can’t help but get dangerously close to her.

Enjoy.

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

"I have to look perfect!" The words roared from her lips like a lion attempting to scare its prey but her scream rattled through the other three women's ears like a high pitched whine of a child needing attention.

This was not just a screech of attention, this was far more than a child needing to look their best for a family dinner. This was a girl needing to impress- no, more than impress. This was a girl who needed to entrance, to lock the people into her image, to dazzle them with the only thing she had that would completely mesmerise them. Her attire.

The clicking heel of the tight but perfectly fitting shoe on her right foot clashed against the slick black tile beneath her foot. It rattled the floor and bounced vibrations along the walls in a masterful attempt to show authority which was newly gained by her. The fists of her gloved hands smashed into the vanity that was resting in front of her causing the makeup items to scatter and fall like trembling towers being broken. A tube of lipstick rattled and rolled on its side as if it had been shot down. A vile of mascara quivered and lolled to either side like a bowling pin debating whether it really wanted to fall down or not.

Three pairs of eyes focused on the girl who was almost sobbing for what she was most desperate to have as her fisted hand moved to grasp the very tip of the sparkling grey outline of the mirror on the vanity. She tipped the vanity towards her so the three maids with her could see how her eyes scrutinised the reflection she was faced with. The reflection was almost flawless- almost.

But it had to be perfect, no one would settle for less.

"Fix it!" There was no roar that screamed the words in the ears of the frightened maids who were more stone statues than useful help. All of them were afraid one foot on the wrong tile would lose them their most favoured jobs.

The three women who were varied in age and complexion stared at one another in the same desperation as their Queen stood in front of them. Someone had to move, someone had to take the risk of landing on the wrong tile and fix whatever mistake the Queen had seen. She needed to be perfect, she needed to be flawless and dazzling and eye catching and these three women were here to do that. It was their job and if they didn't do this then they would be losing their jobs and so much more.

The youngest of the three maids felt a bolt of courage spark to life in her system which pushed her feet to move. The flat pale pink slipper-like shoes clad on her clammy feet scuffed against the floor to get her within reach of the girl who held more authority than anyone else in the land. Her small brown eyes seemed to widen as she looked over the Queen to find something to perfect but she could find nothing wrong. There was no smear of lipstick, no eyelash that wasn't flicked up at the end or covered in black paint. There were colours over her eyelids, added complexion to her cheeks and powder to her skin.

What was there to fix?

The young maid whose name was only known to her peers standing in fright behind her gestured her hand to the power of authority in front of her in a silent plea for her to sit down so her makeup could be perfected in a way that would either win or lose the maid her job.

A forced breath passed through (Y/n)'s nose as she slowly and carefully sat in the chair as not to ruin the dress she was in. Her chin tilted upward which gave the image of power and control as her straightened hair sat delicately behind her ears. She had little time to be perfected but it had to happen. She would not be seen as anything but perfect.

The maid reached a trembling hand out for the raven black lipstick that was resting on the vanity. Her knees bent forward to allow her minimal height to shrink that little bit more so she was level with (Y/n) who looked seething. Her eyes, though capturing and absolutely stunning, were burning with a fire and pain that no one had ever witnessed before. Her body was trembling like a bird cage that was being rattled as her cheeks were puffed out from both the air she was holding in her mouth and the muscles that were tensed and pushing outwards.

Such a look of fright had never entered the maid's eyes or become plastered to her face until that very moment (Y/n) wrapped her slim, gloved fingers around the maid's wrist, stopping the tip of the lipstick a mere inch before it touched her skin.

"Perfect." The word was whispered with a spoonful of honey but it charged through gritted teeth which broke the tone it was spoken in and gave a hint of vengeance if this did not work out in (Y/n)'s favour. Did the maid really want to take such a gamble? Her idea was not ordinary which on any other day would have been a perfect idea, but today was special. This was a day that had to go well and if one single person or thing put a toe out of line, they would pay for it. (Y/n) had to look demandingly beautiful but with a look of effortlessness about it.

Three, painfully long minutes was all the young maid needed to do her utmost best to make the Queen look majestic.

No one moved or shivered or even dared to let a breath pass through their lips or nose as they waited for the reaction from their newly appointed Queen. Her head turned so slowly to the right to allow her eyes to set on the vanity mirror that would reveal her look and seal the fate of the maid who tried to perfect her.

One exact minute passed as the Queen looked over her perfected look before a grin the Cheshire cat would have been envious of spread on her glossy lips. That smile was all they needed to see to know that the maid was no longer just a maid. She was no longer a servant whose name was unknown to people who held power. She was the maid who had made the Queen smile, who had made her look as perfect as everyone would imagine her to be.

Now the evening could begin.

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

"The Queen? I'm supposed to try and get close to the Queen, you cannot be serious?"

Ben adjusted the cuff links on his shirt cuffs to make sure they were properly pinned in place as his eyes kept sneaking glances up at his father who stood with a smile that was faultless, something Ben seemed to have inherited from him. The cuff links snapped perfectly into place and now, as Ben stared at them, he could see the reason why he had a blood-red heart and a black spade as cuff links.

They were playing card suits to impress the Queen.

He had not travelled all this way to the land of Chess to impress the Queen, he was not here to win what little heart she had left and secure himself a right to her throne when he already had a throne back home. He didn't desire the throne he had, there was no reason for him to pursue the Queen of Chess. Ben didn't even know this was their destination until this morning, but now it made sense. His father had gotten them an invitation to the ball thrown in the Queen's honour since she recently had her coronation, and now Ben was supposed to charm his way into her heart.

"She's new to the throne, she needs all the allies she can get and what better way to ally ourselves with the foreign lands than to get close to the Queen? This whole realm is under her command, think of the opportunities that could give. You only need to charm her, Ben, she's impressionable and young, she'll be easy to impress."

"I don't want or need friends in high places and I do not want to be friends with a Queen who is rumoured to be insane. I think that would be the kind of ally we do not need, father."

Ben would go to the ball tonight because he had been invited and he had made the journey here, it would be such a waste to hide away in his room now and not turn up, not to mention how rude it would be. But he didn't fancy charming the Queen who was unstable by all accounts he had heard. Allies were all well and good until they turned on their own and Ben hadn't heard the best things about this Queen. She seemed to be fine on her own, she didn't need Ben charming her or trying to get in her good books.

"Trust me, a Queen as powerful as this is one we need on our side, quite possibly in our family. Just talk to her, try to be friendly and she'll be as sweet as butter. Now let's leave before we're late."

Ben waited until his father turned around so he could roll his eyes before he followed his elder out of the room and through the mansion they were staying in for the week.

A feeling of relief swept through Ben when his eyes clocked onto Samuel, one of the servants who was more of a brother to Ben than a friend or a servant. He headed over to his friend whilst still making sure to head out to the carriage waiting to take them to the palace. Ben wasn't one for balls or big events, he wasn't so keen on dancing and it was normally a rather dull night with him sat in a corner with a bottle of wine by his side.

Even his own coronation last year due to his mother's untimely death hadn't been all that fun for him like it was for everyone else.

"Do you know anything about the Queen?" If Ben knew Samuel enough, he could count on the brunette gathering any and all information just in case Ben needed any help or advice. Samuel liked to be in the loop and have all the knowledge he could, he liked being the one of wisdom and it made him feel important and able to spread reliable gossip which was essential in any palace.

Once seated in the carriage, Ben leaned his elbow on the door, pressing his hand to his lips as his eyes darted to look at Samuel who was sitting next to him with Ben's father sat opposite.

"She's twenty, she's powerful and she knows it, she's got more authority than any other realm in the world. When she came to the throne she fired every single member of her staff and hired a whole new household. A lot of people think she's unstable but around here that's something of a normality I think..."

"What?" Ben didn't mean to snap but he could see the way Samuel was looking at him, it was like he was holding something back because he didn't know how Ben would react or what he would say.

"She... she's the first royal in over a hundred years to bring back the death sentence."

Ben's lips twitched up at the corners like he was going to smile and wait for the punchline of a joke, but the punchline never came and his mouth fell agape but no words left his lips. No one in any of the realms had ever given a death sentence in over a hundred years, it was abolished because it was cruel and inhuman. How could a twenty year old girl bring it back when she's been on the throne for less than a year? Why would she bring it back?

"W-why? She has to be unhinged to do that... so, what, she's just brought the punishment back so it's legal now?"

"No, she... she didn't exactly make it legal or a proper punishment, she brought someone into her own court and didn't like the sentence of prison so she ordered his death. Then and there, in front of everybody. Off with his head."

"She beheaded someone? You brought me here to charm this woman? I like my head where it is thank you very much, turn this thing around I'm not doing this."

Ben's hand subconsciously moved to rub at his throat like he was making sure there was no slash mark appearing in his skin like magic. He liked his head on his neck above his shoulders where it should be, what if he said something wrong to this Queen or he did something she didn't like or he charmed her but didn't like her in that way? Would she sentence him to a beheading? Would she kill another sovereign out of vengeance or annoyance or even for sport?

How was Ben supposed to charm someone who beheaded her own subject for doing something wrong? That was like asking him to tame a wild beast with the danger of being killed in the process.

"Don't be so dramatic, plenty of other sovereigns have done that, granted this isn't exactly the era to be chopping heads, but it isn't unheard of. We're here now, you don't think she'd be so silly as to threaten to take your head when she knows who you are, do you?"

His father worded it so easily with a chuckle at the end of his words as if this was just a petty squabble between children or pre-wedding jitters. But no one knew for sure what this Queen would do, if she was unstable she may not care if Ben was a King or not, she may not want any alliances with him or any other countries. Surely there would be hundreds of other Kings and Queens and people of parliament trying to get close to her for an alliance, what if she got annoyed or fed up with them? Could she order their heads to be separated from their bodies with no repercussions to fall on herself?

They didn't know what she was capable of or what he power could protect her from.

"Why have that much power if you're only going to be afraid to use it?" Ben countered just as the carriage pulled up to a stop. They were here now and going back wouldn't be wise or kind, but Ben didn't want to woe any Queen that was capable of beheading him if she wanted.

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

Chess.

What a name for a land to be ruled by a Queen of such power. It signified to Ben that the land was her game board with pawns to move and dispose of as she pleased. She could cut down any piece that didn't suit her fancy or play by her rules and her aim was to conquer all and have the game be won in her favour.

Even the floor he was standing on right now held large marble black and white gloss tiles that made him wonder if the Queen ever played human chess on this very floor. She could chop off the heads of the players she removed from the board or vanquished in the game. A real life or death game of chess that everybody would know she would always win.

Ben had always hated chess, and here he was stood on a real life chess board right at his feet. The black tiles were glossed over with a matt paint that had silver sparkles in that reflected the light from the three main chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the white tiles were glossed with the same silver sparkles but they were less noticeable. The floor could barely be seen due to the amount of people dancing or walking or just standing around on the tiles.

Ben didn't know one person here, which was the reason he had been stood near the buffet table for the last hour to keep out of the way. He could dance and he was rather good at it, but he didn't like dancing with strangers.

"Do you not dance?"

The voice that spoke to Ben was made of velvet, but the person that went along with it was something else entirely.

Her hair was what he noticed first. It was straightened to the point it could have been used as a ruler with a small handful from each side of her face pulled back and pinned to the back of her head. From her roots down to the halfway point of her hair, it was the darkest shade of purple that it was almost black, but from then to the ends which went just down past her shoulders, her hair lightened into lilac and the very tips were white. It sounded so wrong and as if it would look atrocious but it was rather enticing and eye-catching in the best kind of way.

She had a lovely complexion and her lips looked naturally blood-red with just a bad of crimson here and there.

The mysterious woman was wearing a dress that was knee length and the colour of sterling silver with a thrill trim over the top that held spades, diamonds, hearts and clubs dotted all around. There was a red ribbon looping around the middle like a belt with a bow tied at the back and the back of her dress turned into a black trim that hung down like a veil that reached the floor.

But what captured Ben completely was her face.

Her eyes were the prettiest shade of aqua blue that he had ever seen, so much so that it looked like he was staring into the deepest of oceans. But just under her right eye, there was a small spade drawn in what he guessed was black lipstick and outlined in silver glitter which looked like a teardrop. There was a club on her left cheek outlined in the same lipstick, both no bigger, if not smaller than Ben's thumb. And at each corner of her lips, she had a crimson heart one one side and a diamond at the other. She was a walking deck of cards right before his eyes.

"Not with strangers m'lady."

"A King who doesn't dance, is that normal where you're from?" (Y/n) let her lips form into a smile as she stared up at the man who looked so different and outcast in this kind of environment. He looked ordinary in a world where ordinary didn't exist. His hair was a lovely shade of blond which faded to snow white at the ends where it curled and his hair was shaved a little shorter at the sides. His eyes were perfect emerald green orbs, his cheekbones were defined and his lips were naturally dark blushing pink.

His height made him tower over (Y/n) but he wasn't intimidating, he looked rather laid back and calm. He had the physique and appearance of a King but the kind of nature of a humble subject.

"I suppose not, but where's the fun in normal?"

"My sentiments exactly... tell me, you wouldn't happen to be Benjamin, would you?"

"I might be, depends who's asking." Ben drank the last of the wine that was in his glass before he set the glass down on the table behind him. He didn't know how this girl knew who he was or his name unless she knew exactly who was going to be here and had gone round talking to everyone. Maybe she had heard some gossip, it wouldn't be too hard to find out who everyone here was, Ben just couldn't bothered to find out who was who.

"I'm (Y/n), and I'm asking for a dance. You should know I don't like being turned down." (Y/n) held her hand out, waiting patiently for his hand to slip into hers so she could lead him to the dance floor.

She knew exactly what she wanted and she was going to take it, Ben didn't have much of a choice here.

Her demanding words in such a sweet. velvety tone made him smile intriguingly and he had no problem giving her his hand. He didn't normally dance with strangers like this but there was something about this girl that was drawing him in and he liked it. He allowed her to lead him to the middle of the dance floor but the moment they were in hold, he took the lead in the dance.

It was unusual for Ben to dance with someone who wasn't his little brother or a partner at a ball who always stood on his feet. It was even more fun to dance with someone who kept trying to take the lead but Ben wasn't letting her have the reigns so easily.

The more they danced and circled around the floor he despised with the other people dancing, the more Ben started to realise something. Many people had pulled out of the dance, about half the couples were now stood on the sidelines watching instead of joining in. But everyone who was both dancing and watching were looking at those few who were still dancing. It was like there was some kind of game or rumour going around but Ben didn't know what it was.

He turned his attention back to the girl in front of him who seemed to glide around the dance floor like a spirit made just for dancing and the way she was smiling up at him made Ben shiver. She seemed so angelic but she looked so different and unique.

She took Ben by surprise when she pulled back and took it upon herself to spin under his arm, prompting him to spin her again before reeling her back in and spinning them both round like he was on the waltzers trying to make her dizzy.

"Where'd you learn to dance like this?" Ben whispered in her ear just loud enough for her and no one else to hear. He'd never had a dance partner that was as good as her.

"You could say I'm classically trained." There was something in her eyes that looked almost sad but Ben didn't dare dampen her mood by asking what it was.

"Funny, no one else here quite matches up to you tonight, do they?" Ben didn't know where his courage came from, but he found himself tracing the pad of his thumb very lightly against the suit designs on her face, making sure not to smudge the work of art on her features. No one else had painted designs on their face like this, no one wore such a dazzling yet maddening dress as she did and no one had her stunning features or hair either.

No one could dare compare with her tonight.

Ben liked the way she moved her hand that had previously been on his shoulder so she could feather her finger up and down his neck like she was trying to tickle him. By this point, the pair of them had stopped dancing and were stood on the outskirts of the dance floor so they weren't in the way. But just as Ben wondered if either of them would make a move, he dared to look around.

He noticed that no one was dancing anymore, despite the music still playing and flowing so perfectly through the air around them. When Ben caught sight of his father, he saw such a grin on his face and a look of delight washing over his creased eyes and it made Ben shiver.

The smile slipped from his face and his mouth opened but no words emerged from his lips.

What had he done?

"Your Majesty." Ben breathed through the words so quietly he was surprised she could hear him or lip read with how little his lips actually moved. He was dancing with the Queen of Chess. The Queen who had taken someone's head off simply because she thought it was a fitting punishment. The Queen who brought back the death penalty when it had been abolished for one hundred years prior to her reign here. He was dancing with an enamouring twenty year old Queen who held more power in one hand than Ben would hold in a lifetime on his own throne.

"He finally notices. Don't tell me dancing with a Queen is off-putting for such a King?" There was something like a warning tone in (Y/n)'s voice, as if she would be hurt that he wouldn't want to dance with her now he knew who she was. It made him fear what she would do if he felt like that.

Truthfully he didn't know how he felt. He didn't like what he had heard about her, but he liked who he had been dancing with prior to knowing who she was. Being around the Queen meant he was stepping on dangerous territory even if an alliance was on the cards. Ben guessed by the way people were staring at them that no one else had managed to get near the Queen tonight, let alone grab a dance with her which was why his father was smiling so winningly at him.

Was it such a big deal to dance with the Queen? She had chosen him after all, he wasn't doing his father's bidding, this was an encounter he didn't force to happen. Ben took a deep breath before he leaned his head down so he was level with her own.

"That depends, your Majesty."

"On what?"

"If being around you means I'll lose my head."

[bettyxinez]

Nothing Left To Give

chapter four • smile

Kat didn't mention her DID until two weeks after that, and Malcolm found himself thinking about her more then he probably should have.

And Kat knew it too. They had been getting closer and closer and she could tell how curious he was. Over the span of the 7 weeks they had become friends, and Kat was confident in saying he was one of the closest friends she ever had, so much so that even some of the Others wanted to meet him.

Driving each other to and from the precinct was becoming a regular occurrence, and he slowly revealed more and more about his past, opening up to her much quicker then she was to him.

"So thats what you're trying to figure out? If the girl in the box is real and who she is?"

"Yeah. Funnily enough, trying to solve a murder where the only evidence is unreliable memories is kind of...hard."

"I understand that. Not the murder part, but everything else."

His curiosity had been temporarily put on the back burner while he told her his story, but now it was at the forefront of his mind.

She noticed almost immediately. She kind of felt bad about it, and was planning on telling him when the time was right.

The time never seemed right.

And when it did, she couldn't bring herself to talk about it. So she eventually just waited for him to bring it up.

He was in her apartment again, looking at some of the pictures on her wall and laughing as she told stories of the people in them.

He noticed quickly that none of them were members of her family.

"What about your family?" He asked, before he even realized the can of worms he might have opened by doing so.

She tensed immediately, turning to look at him.

"We don't... talk."

Malcolm looks up at her, noticing for the first time that she was taller then him.

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

She sits down on her couch, tucking her feet underneath her. Malcolm sat next to her.

"They didn't believe me when I told them what was... happening... to me."

His breath hitched. His mind reeling from the possibilities of what that meant. He supposed that he could ask. They had gotten a lot closer, and if she didn't want to talk about it, he could wait longer. No problem.

"And... what was happening to you?"

She looked away from him, eyes widening for a split second, and then she slowly took a deep breath.

This was it. He had asked, and she didn't know if she was ready.

She could dive head first into telling him and risk freezing in the fridgid water, or stay safe and dry, but risk putting a wall between her and Malcolm.

She decided to just take the plunge.

"...bad things." She whispered. And even just thinking about it, her brain was assaulted with memories, and she already felt herself slipping.

"Bad, bad things...hurt... it hurt."

She screwed her eyes shut, fists clenching. Her nails dig into her palms and she sucks in a breath.

Malcolm watched, letting her set the pace, but his brows were furrowed in concern. He knelt down in front of her and offered his hands. She took them with a crushing grip.

"...hold on... someone..." her breath hitched.

"Someone's here. Sorry." Malcolm watched in both worry and fascination.

"Its... okay. Take your time." He responded.

He knew what was happening. She was doing what she had told him was "switching". One of her alters was coming. He was very curious, but he was also fearful as to what would happen next.

Would he ruin everything? He hoped not.

Kats eyes unfocused for a second, and then she stopped.

She looked up, eyes blinking.

She continued staring for a second and looks around.

When he heard her voice, he didn't know what to think.

"...I was told to not like... pretend to be Kat."

Malcolms eyes widen, and hes taken aback. Her voice sounds so different. A touch lower, and with a strong Essex accent, her words somehow a mix of dramatic and lazy sounding.

"Uh... yeah. Who is this?"

"Has she told ya any of our names?"

"...No. But I've never asked. Wanted to go at her own pace."

Kat-whoever- nods at that, looking down at their clothes.

"What the fuck is this? Kat I told ya not to dress us in a skirt!"

He looks at the person in front of him.

"You don't like skirts?"

"Nah. Its not my style. I'm Haven. Primary protector and ex-prosecutor. Basically means I didn't used to be a great person. I'll explain more later if I feel like it. Its my job to protect us, and my job to judge whether someone is safe. You seem to be okay for now."

He was at a loss for words. He was given almost zero warning, however he assumed that she wasn't either.

"So what 'ave you said to set 'er off then?" She said, glaring. It was so weird, he thought, how her entire demeanor has changed. Man or woman. Or whatever. He didn't even know.

The glare on her face looked so unnatural, like it didn't belong there.

"We sort of got onto the topic of her past. And then... you came out." He said.

"Sorry, who exactly are you? You specifically. Not just your role." He said, confused and cautious as to where to go from here.

"Are you askin' what I look like?" She responded, the way she holds herself that of a completely different person.

"Maybe. Or just who you are. What you like and dislike, your interests."

She stares at him, tilting her head.

"Well for one thing, my skin is a bit darker then this, Kat is atrociously pale. I've got short, curly black hair and freckles."

He tries to imagine it, but its hard. He's looking at what he knew as Kat, but now, she's someone different.

Haven continued talking.

"I've got sort of big eyes. Small nose. Thick eyebrows. Big-ish lips. I look like I'm mixed race, but I don't like to think of myself as that because I will never relate to the struggles of being black and I will never be fully emersed in the culture. The body is Korean, and I don't think it's appropriate to be say that I'm mixed race because my actual real life body is not."

Malcolm nods. He could understand that.

So Haven, he noted, was a rambler.

"Im an integrated alter. I used to be three people. I have the memories of three different people and I remember them all separately. I have access to all the memories and trauma, so don't fuck with me." She says the last bit with a bit of sadness and anger.

Haven was really closed off, he thought. She looked at him with a fierceness he couldn't describe, and soon, he found himself noticing all the differences between them. The more she talked, the more she became her own person to him.

"I have just a few things to say to you before I go back inside-"

"Inside where?" Malcolm asked, cutting her off, suddenly very confused. More then he already was.

"Back to inner world. We have a whole world inside our head. We all live in an apartment building. Well not all. We have a cave, a pool, a forest, other stuff. When we're fronting, we're sitting in the lobby. I sound insane when I say that, but its true."

She shrugged.

Shes right, he thought.

It did sound insane.

And if he didn't already know a bit about the disorder, he would have called her out.

And some would say the same about his mental health problems.

So he believed her.

"So... you protect Kat?"

"Yes. And everyone else. Its my job. I was the first one made, the first one to take it instead of her."

His brows furrowed at that.

"What does that mean?"

She looks up at him.

"It means that when fucked up shit was happening to us I took her place so she didn't have to deal with it."

He thought about that. Fucked up shit? Like what? Did it have to do with his father? He shuddered at that thought.

It had taken him almost every ounce of willpower to not ask Kat about it, but he figured could ask Haven. So he did.

"Does the name Martin Whitly ring a bell?"

She stood up then, and dragged him up by the collar of his shirt, eyes intense and angry.

"How do you know that name?" She asked through gritted teeth, voice low.

Struck a nerve, then.

"He-He's my father." He said. Her eyes widened and she threw him onto the couch.

"Have you seen him recently? Don't lie to me I swear to God I will know."

He was taken aback. Things had taken a 180 faster then he could even process what was happening.

Struck a big nerve, then.

He could tell the truth, but what if it ruined their friendship?

Or he could lie, but she said she will know. That would probably ruin their friendship even more...

Before he can even stop himself:

"Yes."

She sits down then, eyes clenching.

"You have to take me to him."

He stands up, fists clenching.

"No. Absolutely not." He couldn't let his father ruin their friendship. He wouldn't let him.

"Either you take me to him or I go myself."

"You can't."

"I'll find a way." Her eyes glinting in determination. He suddenly got the feeling that she wasn't joking.

He took in a shuddery breath, hands shaking.

"Fine."

_______________________________________

Haha no proofreading here we die like Eve.

Like and comment yall. These chapters take a while to write and always have between 1,400-1,900 words and I would really appreciate it if this story spread a bit.

Thx yall.

[ihavejarlsberg]

Blue Christmas

Author’s Note: I had a really sad idea for a short fic, so I wrote it so you all could be sad with me.  You can pry the headcanon that one of Malcolm’s top love languages is giving gifts from my cold, dead hands. Have some Christmas angst, everyone! (Read more is added for those on mobile… head to AO3 if it’s cut off for you. :D )

Word Count: 2,300-ish.

Summary: Three days after Malcolm has been taken, the team discovers he had bought them all Christmas presents. It doesn’t help them miss him any less. Link: AO3.

They each found them on their desks, tucked in with the rest of their respective pieces of mail. It was obvious Malcolm hadn’t wrapped them, himself; he had clearly paid someone to do a better (and much more festive) job than he ever would have. But that didn’t matter. Not really.

Edrisa found hers first. It was, naturally, an incredibly thoughtful gift, based on a little seed of information about her she had thrown out once that Bright had picked up and tucked away into his pocket for later like a small boy collecting shiny stones.

It was a puzzle. A 1000-piece beauty that was clearly hand drawn by an artist. The pictures on it looked like they were taken straight from an anatomy book, then set ablaze with tremendous color by a talented artist. She loved it with her whole heart, and she burst into tears as soon as she got through the wrapping paper and saw what it was.

Who knows how long it would have taken the rest of the team to find theirs, had Edrisa not mentioned it. As soon as she did, they immediately went to their respective desks to check their own mail. It had been three days since Bright’s disappearance on December 25th; whatever postage they had been missing out on in that time frame was literally the last thing on their minds. Until now.

JT’s was the smallest, as far as size went; a maroon envelope sealed shut with gold-colored wax. It stood out like a sore thumb in his mail box amidst the standard white envelopes that had been accumulating. “Damn,” he’d said to himself, running the pad of his thumb over the dried wax of the seal, “Even this dude’s envelopes are rich.” He had quieted, though, once he’d opened up the card and started reading what Malcolm had written inside with his neat, all-capitalized handwriting.

 JT, Sorry for crashing your date. The next one’s on me.

 Merry Christmas!

 MB

 P.S. Justin? Jerico? Jeremiah?

JT had to laugh, despite everything. Attached to the card was a $100 gift card to Amsterdam Billiards. He stared at it, unblinking, for several seconds before his eyes started to water from being open too long (mostly).

“Damn it, Bright,” he muttered to himself as he closed the card. “Where you at, bro?”

x

There was a small black postage box waiting for Gil on his desk, hiding under a manila envelope. It was not the sort of small black box one would buy a woman; Gil knew was it was the moment he pulled it out from his mail pile and saw the company name stamped on the side in raised silver lettering. He stared at it for a moment, until it blurred together in his vision beneath a sheen of tears.

His fingers traced over the letters on the front of the box, and for a moment he allowed himself to just feel how smooth the cardboard was on the delivery box the gift had come in. He had to clench his jaw against the lump steadily climbing up his throat. Before he even made a move to open the box, he pulled back his right cuff, exposing the watch he wore on his wrist. Despite how worn and well loved it was, the watch was in excellent condition for being nearly fifteen years old. Especially considering that Gil literally wore it every day, to the point that he felt naked without it. It had held up marvelously over the years, which wasn’t surprising, as it had likely been expensive. Just as expensive as the new one he was holding in his other hand.

Without warning, the memory came back, unbidden. He could recall it like it had taken place last week. Malcolm, no older than twelve, handing him a dark blue velvet box with a hand that shook so fiercely, Gil immediately moved to take it from the poor kid before he dropped it.

It hadn’t been Father’s Day, then. The Whitlys didn’t celebrate Father’s Day anymore. But it had been damn close to it, and Malcolm had thought to buy a gift for Gil. As a man with no biological children of his own, Gil had cherished this more than he ever could have put into words. He still wore the same watch to this day.

And Malcolm noticed. Obviously. Because Malcolm Bright noticed everything.

“You still have that watch I gave you,” he had said, exactly 1.5 days into the investigation of the “copycat” Surgeon case, as he stared at Gil’s wrist.

“Of course I do,” Gil retorted. He was standing close enough to Bright at the time to reach out and give his shoulder a slight squeeze. “I wear it every day.”

Malcolm had all but beamed at that. “Looks a little worn, though,” he added, as his gaze drifted back down to the silver time piece on Gil’s wrist.

Gil had shrugged. “It’s well-loved,” he said simply. Malcolm had frowned just slightly at that, clearly deep in thought.

And now he knew what Bright had been thinking about: a wardrobe update for Gil Arroyo.

Gil sucked in a breath, holding the air in his chest for a few seconds to help expel some of the fear that had taken up residence there. He wasn’t afraid a new watch, obviously; unfortunately, he knew exactly what he was afraid of, and it was too terrible for words.

He was afraid he was holding the last piece of Malcolm Bright he was ever going to see.

(They all were afraid of that, deep down.)

The atrocity of that thought propelled him into action, and he started ripping open the little box’s packaging tape. Inside was a hard, velvet case, just like the one a much younger Malcolm had first presented to Gil all those years ago. The watch inside was magnificent. It was all black, even its face, and incredibly sleek. Clearly this time, Malcolm was going for an updated, modern look for him. Gil loved it. There was a small, folded card inside, and Gil pried it open with hands that had gone numb. He recognized Malcolm’s handwriting instantly. It was simple, sweet, and to the point.

 Merry Christmas, Gil!    Thank you–for everything.

 Love,

 Bright

Seeing the words in Malcolm’s handwriting was what finally put him over the edge. It had been three long days of fruitless searching for their profiler; they were all exhausted, and none more so than Gil. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, not even bothering to keep the tears at bay anymore.

“Thanks, bud,” he whispered to an empty room when he could finally find his voice again. “I love it.”

x

By the time Dani found out Bright had all gotten them Christmas gifts and had them sent to the station, she was exhausted. Just at the end of her rope mentally, physically, and emotionally. When Edrisa came up to her in tears, shaking a box in her face, Dani nearly lost it on her. Until he heard what she was saying.

“He got us gifts,” Edrisa squeaked out.

Dani felt the blood rush out of her face. She had a good idea who the ‘he’ in question was, but still had to ask, “Who…?”

“Bright!” Edrisa said. “Bright got us all Christmas presents. Incredibly thoughtful, probably expensive presents.” Her lower lip wobbled, and she looked like she was going to start crying again. “I didn’t get him anything. I thought about it! But then we just got so busy with the case load and… and…” She trailed off.

“And then Bright went missing on Christmas,” Dani finished for her, deadpanning. Edrisa nodded, sniffing once. Dani looked down at the box in Edrisa’s hands, studying it. “He got you a puzzle?”

Edrisa nodded vigorously again and offered up the box to Dani, who took it gingerly, like it was something to be cherished.

“It’s gorgeous,” Dani said genuinely.

“I know,” Edrisa agreed, “I’m scared to even open it. Like I’m going to ruin it somehow just by touching it. But I thought I could get started on it tonight… Maybe have it done by the time you find him, you know?”

Dani’s heart surged at the words by the time you find him, and she ground her teeth together at the familiar tightness in her jaw that meant she was definitely close to crying. Edrisa didn’t seem to notice; she was staring at her puzzle box. Dani placed it back in her arms gently, and Edrisa hugged it to her chest. The pieces inside all fell to the bottom of the box with a soft swish.

“We’ll find him,” Dani said simply. We have to.

Edrisa gave her a watery smile and nodded. “Hopefully before I even have the chance to finish this beast.”

Dani returned her smile. “So,” she started, eager to turn the subject away from the fact that Bright was still missing. “You said he mailed it?”

“Oh, right. Yes,” Edrisa said, “Apparently he mailed them all to the station. Which is kind of silly, but he must have just paid to have everything wrapped, and then he probably didn’t know our addresses, so… They were just here, waiting for us. Since Christmas.”

Dani swallowed. Part of her almost wished Bright had forgotten about hers, that he had sent something to everyone else but her. But the thought was a wasted one; Bright would never forget about her.

Dani’s gift was a fairly large box, about the size of two shoeboxes lined up side by side. There was no way she could have avoided seeing it, once she got back to her desk. (Had it really been that long since she’d been back at her desk, away from the search for him?)

She stared at it for a few moments, willing herself to keep calm, before she took out her pocket knife to cut through the box’s tape. Dani didn’t really do Christmas presents; with her immediate family, sure, but she couldn’t remember the last time she had either given or received a gift from a friend. Even the team–Gil, JT, and Edrisa–usually only went out for a drink, rotating who would pay the tab, for holidays or birthdays. Gifts were not her forte. This was foreign territory, and it left her on edge.

She could almost feel Bright watching her, those brilliant eyes of his staring at her hopefully, like he so wanted her to love whatever it was he had picked out for her.

Inside the package, after she removed a fair amount of bubble wrap and colored tissue paper, was a large wooden box. The moment she read the scripted letters burned into the top of the it, she knew exactly what she’d find inside, and she huffed out a shaky breath. As soon as she opened it, she knew she was right; the smell wafted up from the contents of the box, despite the fact that they were vacuum sealed, and it hit her like a punch in the gut.

 I love Earl Grey.

She could hear his soft laugh, his words back to her. “I know. It’s the aroma, isn’t it?”

She was staring down at a beautiful box of British-imported loose leaf Earl Grey tea. Included was a small metal tea strainer, and little wrapped bags of spices and citrus peels, all individually wrapped and sectioned off into their own little spots in the box lined with velvet. In the center was a burgundy tin, and Dani smiled as soon as she read what it housed.

For someone whose tea-drinking habits involved microwaving water and using whatever brand of bagged tea was cheapest, the custom-built box before her was intimidating.  And somehow, Bright knew it would be. (Because of course he did.) Inside the tin in the middle were fifty already-assembled tea bags of Earl Grey from the same gourmet ingredients, ready to be slipped into hot water without hassle and enjoyed immediately.

 With friends.

It was one of the very best gifts she had ever been given in her life. And she felt a renewed hatred for Paul Lazar that Malcolm wasn’t there to share it with her. She reached down and pulled the tin out from the box. It popped open easily, and she was overtaken by that delightful smell again. She breathed it in for a few moments, until her nose grew used to it and the smell wasn’t nearly as potent to her.

Eventually, she removed the entire wooden box from its packaging, and that’s when she found the card. It was a simple folded card, red on the outside, blank on the inside, save for Malcolm’s writing. It was simple enough–just wishing her a merry Christmas and a happy new year, but the way he had signed it made the breath halt in her chest.

 Your friend,

 Malcolm Bright

“God, Bright,” she murmured, grinding her teeth again as she willed herself not to cry. But it was a fight she soon gave in to. What was the use? They had been searching for him for days, pouring everything they had into finding some kind of lead on where he had been taken, all to have nothing turn up. And then he’d gone and gotten her a damn thoughtful gift for a holiday he had been kidnapped on. It was all too much.

So Dani let herself cry for a few minutes. When it was over, she felt better and worse at the same time. She closed the lid of the wooden tea box and tucked it into the biggest drawer of her desk. The little card from Bright she taped, open, on the side of her computer monitor; she would see it each and every time she sat down at her desk.

And she vowed she wasn’t going to be drinking any tea at all until she found him, until he could sit and have a cup with her, himself.

[punkpoemprose]

December 7th- A Proper Tree

Universe: Canon (Post Frozen 2)

Rating: G (General Audiences, fluff to the max)

Length: 1892 Words

A/N: I’m catching up, expect a couple more short-ish fics. This is very very soft. I can’t describe how soft this is. There’s all sorts of fluff beats in here.

“I don’t know that this is proper,” Kristoff said as he and Anna unloaded a tree off his sled and carried them through the large double doors of the great hall. He’d given Anna the front end, if only because it meant she wouldn’t be coated in pine sap the way he was already.

“Proper schmoper,” Anna said in return as they hauled it in together. Some of the palace staff were surging ahead to offer a hand, but Kai and Gerda were waving them back frantically. Anna had been vey clear before they set out that afternoon on the hunt for a tree that it was something that she and Kristoff were going to do alone.

“I’ve had a palace decorator or someone else hired to do this my whole life. I just wanted to do it for once,” she said as they marched along to where the stand was waiting. “You know, like normal families.”

He chuckled at that. She was Queen of Arendelle, he was an ice harvester who talked to reindeer, her sister was some kind of elemental spirit thing that he still was trying to wrap his head around, and they all had an animate talking snowman to contend with. Nothing about their family was normal.

“You know normal families buy their tree in the market too, not everyone rides off into the woods and cuts one down themselves.”

“Well,” Anna said, walking her end back and around so that Kristoff could walk ahead, bringing the trunk to the front so that they could begin the process of putting it into its base. “I just thought it would be fun. And it was.”

He nodded; it certainly had been enjoyable enough. He loved taking her up into the forest any day, because it gave her a break from being Queen Anna and because it was where we felt most comfortable. While he still wasn’t quite sure that it was a “good” plan to go and find their own Christmas tree, he did know that it was a plan that had brought them both a lot of joy, and that was enough.

“Maybe we can have some help getting it into the stand?” he offered, if only because he knew that the process would go much faster with a few more hands, and because he saw Kai, while following Anna’s request to the letter, looking like he was about to have a heart attack.

Anna, from her side of the tree, sighed, but assented, and soon Kristoff found that they were both overwhelmed by palace staff putting the tree into its cast iron holder in record time. From the woodwork, grateful and smiling maids descended with chests of ornaments and kettles of popcorn.

The tree was much smaller than the ones that Kristoff remembered filling the hall in previous years, as he had been forced to select one that he and Anna could take back with them, but the awe of those around them was no less obvious than it had been any other year.

“It’s a lovely tree your majesty,” Kristoff said softly as he took his place next to Anna and watched as Kai and Gerda instructed the staff on how to lift the tree, where to set the ornament boxes and whether they should start stringing popcorn or otherwise involve themselves in preparing the décor.

Anna smiled and leaned into his side, “I knew this was going to happen.”

She gestured lazily towards the staff, who, as always, were going above and beyond in their work. Particularly to a point of all but finishing the preparations and decorating of the tree at record speed.

“They just all wanted to help,” Kristoff replied, wrapping his arm around Anna as they watched the tree get decorated for them. “They just want to do what’s ‘proper’.”

“Proper schmoper,” Anna repeated, leaning up to kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear, “Good thing we got another one.”

Kristoff didn’t need to see her wicked grin to know that it was there as she whispered into his ear. She had, of course, expected that this might happen. So when they’d cut the tree that was currently overrun with staff, Kristoff had helped Anna find a tree suitable for the library, their favorite space. She’d cut it down herself, something that she was quite proud of, and Kristoff couldn’t help but admit watching Anna work with her hands was a sight to behold. She always needed quite a bit of instruction from him, but once she was set on her course, she never stopped until she succeeded, and that was one of the many reasons why he loved her so much.

“Let’s sneak it upstairs before they notice we’re gone,” he whispered in return, earning another kiss on his cheek.

“Let’s.”

***

It was a bit smaller than the one they had brought in to the great hall, and to avoid detection they’d had to bring it around to the smaller back entrance that was closest to the Fjord. Sven had gladly pulled it over and had just as gladly gone off to the stables once Anna and Kristoff removed the thing from the sled.

Anna had been all hushes and giggles as she lead them up the stairs carrying it.

“I feel like a kid again,” she said with a smile, “I’ll have to write Elsa about this.”

Kristoff smiled, unable to see Anna as he carried the back end of the tree up the stairs but knowing that she was smiling impishly ahead of him. “I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of it. Maybe she’ll send you some snowflakes to hang.”

Anna squealed in delight as they snuck out into the hallway in front of the library, and Kristoff could finally see her, smiling just as he thought she’d be.

“The coast is clear, go, go, go!”

Kristoff was struck by the thought that if, when they were ready, they had a child even half as mischievous as Anna, they’d both be put through their paces. He was ready for it though, more than ready. He was only waiting on Anna to tell him that it was what she wanted. Letting her get settled into her new role, letting her settle into their young marriage, was important to him before he even brought up the idea of having kids. Though, he suspected, that she was as ready as he was.

He followed her as she scooted along with the tree, and once they were in the library, she dropped it a bit unceremoniously, causing him to need to readjust his grip lest the whole thing come crashing to the floor.

“I hid another tree stand in here this morning,” she said gleefully as he watched her run over to the couch they spent most of their evenings upon and in a very unqueenly manner, stoop down to rummage under it.

He chuckled to himself, stepping into the space to lean the tree against a wall before walking back to shut the door behind them. Anna’s glee was infectious, and he felt himself becoming very excited about the idea of decorating a tree with her, just the two of them.

Once she returned to him with another tree stand, smaller but otherwise identical to one they’d had downstairs, he hoisted the tree once more and placed it inside, letting her get down to the floor to tighten the screws holding the tree in place.

She was always so ready to do whatever struck her fancy without bothering to think about how she looked doing it, and Kristoff couldn’t help himself but to laugh when the only thing he could see from where he was standing, was her skirts a mess and her bum sticking out from under the tree.

She laughed in return, though he wasn’t sure if she knew that he was laughing at the sight of her so excitedly readying their tree, or if she was simply laughing because he was. Sometimes her laughter made him laugh too, so he was happy with either possibility.

Once she emerged and the tree was mostly upright in it’s stands, a bit off perfectly straight, but still good enough, he released the tree and stretched out his arms to her.

Anna ran to him gladly and it was no trouble for him to scoop her up against his chest, his arms around her back and under her knee.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning up to kiss his cheek again, “I love it!”

He smiled in return and gave her a little squeeze.

“I love you,” he said in return, grinning as she smiled radiantly at him.

She kissed him then, fully on the lips and he closed his eyes, savoring the way in which her hand moved up to his hair, mussing it more than taking off his hat had. He loved it when she played with his hair, and he knew that she enjoyed it in return. They had spent many nights in the library, just like this, kissing as she combed her fingers through his hair or made stubby little braids in it.

“Will you make ornaments with me?” she asked softly against his lips, their foreheads pressed together.

He hummed in return. He would do anything she asked.

“I can’t promise they’ll be very good though,” he added after a moment, sending her into another bout of laughter.

“They don’t have to be any good, they just need to be ours.”

She leaned in and kissed him again, her little nose bumping his much larger one in the process.

“I just want to be able to tell our kids about today, maybe show them some awful paper monstrosity we put together and say ‘this was from mama and papa’s first Christmas after they were married’, and have them want to put it on the tree and make some little paper monstrosities of their own that we’ll treasure until we’re old and wrinkly.”

Hearing Anna talk about their life like that, with kids and growing old together, it made his heart swell. He kissed her, holding her as tightly as he could to his chest and smiling as she giggled and kissed him back just as passionately.

“I can’t wait,” he said when she pulled away and he set her carefully on the ground.

“To see me old and wrinkly?”

He chuckled, “To make a paper monstrosity with you that our kids will love, but yeah, that too.”

As she ran off to fetch some popcorn and supplies and to insist to the castle staff that she and her husband not be disturbed for the rest of the evening, Kristoff looked fondly at the slightly crooked little tree they’d cut down together. He knew that it was far from perfect, but when he looked at it the way Anna did, he felt like it was the most beautiful little tree he’d ever seen.

He loved Anna with all of his heart, and now, having her talk about the family they’d make together, he decided that even the imperfect things that they made, were always going to be perfect because it was theirs. At least he hoped so, for the sake of the clumpy walking, clumsy, overly excited and mischievous babies he saw in his and Anna’s future.

[spn-is-baee]

Lydia’s Legacy

Author: Me

Info: This is a story i am working on that’s none important and I wanna post the first chapter draft here to see what tips I can receive. Overall the story is based off a horribly vivid dream I had regarding a young witch and the coven elders/supremes.  

So, here’s my chapter one. 

Lydia rode the train from Amber Court to Lilac Lane. She didn’t know why but her familiar brought a note addressed back to here. The familiar sat around her neck, judgingly. She felt powerful with her partner around her neck; Dermon, the familiar, was large and a powerful serpent. He protected Lydia from danger or led her to new and exciting adventures her coven may disapprove of. This time it was more frightening.

Traveling wasn’t Lydia's favorite, but when Dermon brought a note from an anonymous source simply stating “Only you can,” it definitely sparked some interest into the young girl's mind. Though she knows she mustn’t travel without some kind of communication, she goes without those means. She feels the aura radiating off the note; the feeling of plea and desperation. Something about it should be secret. 

Hours on the train and still two stops to make. If it wasn’t forbidden in her coven she’d teleport to this place, she’d lose her means of power for life and be banished to mortal worlds. Something about this trip was anxiety ridden. Something was going to get her in trouble with the coven but she couldn’t figure out what. She had found a small pamphlet on her coven. This place wasn’t like others. Her coven was a large community of maybe upwards of 15,000 witches and warlocks. Her father and mother are high leveled witches working alongside the elders in top secret bunkers where only they would know where. Being in this coven meant giving up a normal mortal life and swearing your soul to the god and goddess of Wicca. This swearing gives people powers they couldn’t ever imagine, but there are laws and if broken there are some EXTREME consequences to ignorance. 

Lydia had scraps with the Elders, for mostly using small spells to attack her bullies or using her familiar to put fear into those who crossed her. Familiars must also be summoned with certain precautions. Most of which Lydia ignored. Her parents have begged the Elders multiple times that they’d get her under control and was only given minor slaps on the wrist. Lydia promised them the last sixteen times she’d stop doing such reckless things, but where’s the fun in being a good witch?

Watching out the window, one stop away from her destination. She wondered what her parents may think of her disappearance. The trees sag as the air blows by them from the train. Leaves thrashing around when picked up off the ground. The sky was dark though, maybe a storm was coming that Lydia wasn’t informed of? She ignores that thought and her eyes wander to a figure in the middle of a field they pass now. It gave such strong negative energy which caused Lydia to peer out the window closer, she watches as this figure raises its small petite hands. The fingers of this decrepit hand form and move into a spell, only used by outlawed or banned witches who avoided power removal.

This spell sent off a powerful blast of energy coming straight for Lydia's part of the train. Dermon slithers off her into his humanoid figure to cover Lydia as this energy crashes into the steel car. Lydia braces herself while being held protectively by Dermon. The energy tho wasn’t to destroy the car but it seeped through the cracks of the car and made their way to Dermon and Lydia. 

She moves past Dermon, his long arms reach for her to keep her from this entity. They grasp her arm and pull her to him, “S~stay.” 

“What is it?” Lydia’s smaller frame turns toward him, her face full of worry and wonder.

“S~something that s~shouldn’t be here,” Dermon hates to admit it but he didn’t know what it is, but something within him said to keep her away. His only job was to protect her and he couldn’t mess that up. 

“Dermon, let me see it.” She looks curious and strict, she wanted answers and if risking her life meant to figure it out, she would take the chance every time. Dermon simply shackles his head in disapproval. 

“Absolutely not, Mis~stress,” Lydia was annoyed with this answer and cast a simple protection spell over herself. She pushes Dermon gently to the side and goes toward this energy swirling around, “Lydia, no.”

She didn’t listen and continued to reach out to this entity. Almost instantaneously the energy hits her hand and swallows her whole.  The entity becomes black in color and Dermon rushes to get her out but is blasted backward into the adjacent wall. A groan escapes his lips and now he begins panicking. He knew he had no power to save Lydia, he may have just lost the only person he cared about. 

Lydia watches her familiar from inside the entity. She felt her heart drop with fear as her friend was thrown away from her. “What do you want from me?” She pleads.

No response. 

Suddenly a rush of power surges through her. Something she has never felt before. Her head flies back as her eyes light with a purple hue. Her body felt such pain right when she realized the power intensity. She lets out a scream so bloodcurdling, she thought her voice box may explode from the stress. Dermon hears her cries and yells for the entity to stop, though he knew they wouldn’t yield. 

As fast as it happened and as fast as they tried to move, the entity disappears without a trace. Lydia was unaware of her body being lifted into the air, her body felt paralyized. Once the entity dissipated her body fell to the floor of the train. Dermon rushes to her side.

“Lydia? Please respond to me, my s~sweet,” His voice cracked in fear, he loved Lydia so much and couldn’t bear being masterless. 

“I’m fine, Dermon. I’m alive.” Her voice was weak and she moved as though her bones were as stiff as stone, “Don’t sweat about me, I saw the entity throw you. Are you alright?”

“Miss~s, I am fine. I didn’t get engulfed by such a negative force. Are you feeling well? Shall we go return home?”

“No, I think the note had to do with whatever just happened.” 

“That’s ridiculous~ss,” Dermon looked at Lydia with anger, but Lydia saw fear in his eyes. 

“Dermon, who sent me that letter, you know it and won’t tell me?” Lydia sits up, her thick thighs bring her body up. She waits for Dermon's response but instead a horn and the abrupt stop of the train pulls her attention. She grabs her bag and races for the door, Dermon simply follows her out. She reaches a hand out back away from her toward Dermon. She doesn’t look to him, only creates this sad gesture to ask him silently to go back to his serpent form. He sighs but obliges to her request. He gently grabs her hand and kisses it gently as he turns back into his dangerous form. Slithering himself up and around her neck to rest while they travel.

Lydia's alternative style clashes with the cottage-core vibes of the village she arrives in. It evokes looks from everyone, not one of menace but curiosity. Most smile and move about their day. These witches were a part of her coven of course, though she knows the different separations of the powers happens. Her family's power relies on the energies and darker arts. Those from these more light and flower-ish communities are nature reliant. She always wanted her powers to be based on nature, but those who receive can’t choose. 

Her eyes caught those of another young witch, her age. The young woman's skin tan, not from the sun. She was naturally glowing a carmel color off her cheek bones. The girl's hair was bobbed and blonde. The ladies eyes were a fierce and electric blue. Lydia glazed at the outfit, Her shoes were elegant loafers that were perfectly rounded to fit her feet. The socks she wore were cuffed and edged with lace. The dress reached right below her knees, and the color of a dark denim. underneath this denim dress sat a puffy armed shirt in white to collide with her socks more flowingly. The girl smiled shyly at Lydia with a small look of flirtation. Lydia had never been one to initiate a pick up line, but this girl drew her in. 

She walked up to the girl with a small amount of confidence. Right when she stops in front of the girl, a small feline crosses between the two. All black, usually a sign of negative forthcoming, but Lydia never saw it as that. 

“Apologies for my familiar. He happens to be protective over me.” Her voice was soft and created this warm happiness in Lydia’s heart. Something she wasn’t used to. 

“No worries, darling. Very handsome familiar you have,” Lydia's longer hair falls in her face a bit as she gives a smug smirk toward the girl. She pushes the hair back and sees the girl give her a once over. Lydia follows the girl's eyes down her own body seeing her outfit. She felt straight out of a fan-fiction with her black ripped jeans, more rough ripped than most she sees on morals. Hers are self created. Then her over-sized black sweater hung low on her body as one shoulder slid down her arm to flash her very bright red bralette. 

Their coven community was very mortal styled. They weren’t in the 1800’s so they kept up with the style choices of modern times. Elders believed being dressed similar to morals created a safer hiding when they built up their communities. This helped keep moral witch hunters at bay.  

“Your style is very dark core, huh?” The girl laughed softly as Lydia seemed distressed over her outfit choices now, “You’re cute,” the honesty and bravery intrigued Lydia. 

“What’s your name?” Lydia stands up straighter and smiles at the girl warmingly. 

“My parents are kind of a wild card when it comes to name. I have what most people would refer to as ‘quirky,’” the girl giggles and looks around a minute almost as if to summon courage, “I’m Persephone, most call me Steph because it’s less flashy,” she seemed embarrassed by her name. It was perfect for her, she embodied the overall presence of the goddess. The story of Persephone and how she reacts or acts about things almost aline so far with what Lydia had seen so far. 

“I’m Lydia, keep my digits cutie,” Lydia hands the girl a slip of paper and winks. Steph smiles and nods. 

“I will, Lydia,” Steph turns and walks away disappearing from Lydia’s vision. She watched her leave with curiosity, something about that girl made her heart beat faster. 

“Don’t go around giving random people things~ss, Lyd,” the serpent hissed at her. 

“Quiet,” She silenced Dermon with one simple word. Had he hurt her enough to make her hate him now?

[glasyasbutch]

Time! Line! Asks! Roona: 2! Craving: 5! I make you be nice to Craving asmr!!! Ezra: 7! Gildy: 14! Tov: 8! Did I just go through your active characters page! Yes!!!! Go nuts king!!!

hee hee hoo hoo!!!!!!!!!! thank u rebekah!!!! (also thanks for the reminder to add gent and take off gildy from my active characters nnsfsdkl)

2. the timeline in which they never met who would become the most influential or important person in their life, or that person was taken from them before they were capable of forming memories.

Now this is an interesting one for roona, because they genuinely don’t have a single person in their life that i consider to be hugely influential. like, i guess at the moment you could say sepia man, for trapping her in black and white hell, or vinny, for talking her into taking that job.

but honestly, roona doesn’t form long-term attachments, and that’s not a sad thing for her! she enjoys the constant change, and she has plenty of good memories and people she considers friends, but she just doesn’t hang around any of them long enough to experience a lot of change that wouldn’t have otherwise occurred had she not been trying with that exact purpose.

so, in some ways, this timeline is pretty much identical to the one they’re in now. they float around from place to place without much regard for what they’re going to and what they’re leaving behind outside of following the trail of interest they’re currently on.

in other ways, removing any one person from their life would disrupt the timeline just as much as anyone else, because every single place she’s been and person she’s met has tweaked her path in life just a little bit. roona functions like a domino snake, falling moment to moment to moment and not able to see ahead because theres the thing thats happening right now in the way, but if you turn one domino even a little, you might miss the next one entirely and stop the trail right then, or skip to another area. so picking any random person to remove from her life very well could mean that alternate universe roona is still on the material plane, across the country from where they and vinny last were, a college of whispers bard multiclassed with rogue posing as a cleric just to get better gossip.

roona lives her life unchanged, yet utterly changed, and always random.

5. the timeline in which they continue on from the current point in their life to the best happy ending within their reach, where nothing that has happened so far is negated, but the happy things start piling up

craving’s backed herself so far into a corner that there’s no happy ending for her without some strife first. so we’ll get that out of the way.

the party finds out who her patron is. maybe judhas lets it slip, maybe she gets drunk again and spills it to val in a heart to heart about their devil cult trauma, maybe the morning lord sends manic and message and she can’t bear to lie to him when he’s sitting right next to her and asking so sincerely what she did to try and let him walk the high road.

and she cries. she cries, and she screams, and she pushes people away, and she retreats beneath her own skin and tries to hide because she knows this is her fault but she cannot admit she fucked up because she has to believe in what she’s doing if she’s going to see it through.

but someone snaps her out of it. someone gives her an exit. someone (or several someones) vow to stand by her side without judgement and get her out of this mess no matter the cost because they don’t believe that she’s as hopelessly damned as the rest of the world.

they break out of barovia first and foremost. they stab that vampire bitch right through the heart.

she gets to tell judhas to fuck the hell off, and god does it feel good.

then, she discovers the location of sirris’ true soul, that it is not in hell, and she has no reason to have her pact anymore, and she finds a way to break it, even against the queen of loopholes.

she runs into stella again, a free woman, and its been so damn long since they saw each other. they both had their trauma turned on them to manipulate them into subversion and they both are tearing that control apart from the inside. so they clean each others wounds and kiss each other’s bruises and craving finally says “i love you” because god damn it, she does, and she knows stella already knew, but her star deserves to hear it.

manic has a happy ending too, because he and craving are too close for her to have one without him. he sticks with the morninglord, i think. this god seems good for him, even if he won’t really be your typical preacher-type paladin. he probably finds love again in val. if not romance, at the very least family. at least one of her and manic gets a cat again.

craving lives her life supported, wanted, and free.

7. the timeline in which they never experience the loss that taught them something important

this is actually pretty similar to #1 that morgan gave me for him (timeline for ideal life) but i’ll give a quick thing.

the loss was cate’s death, and it taught him that the world is ultimately uncontrollable, even by the gods. at first it made him angry, that he was lied to, and he didn’t want to trust in anyone for fear that he’d be let down. he took five years to start calming down, and then it began to transfer into making him overly kind, because if all he can control in this world is himself, he wants that part to be as welcoming as possible.

so, in a world where cate doesn’t die, he never becomes disillusioned and reillusioned with the idea of devotion. he simply grows in his trust of tamara. his power increases, he becomes a staple of the temple, he lives a happy life inside its battered walls.

i would posit that he might actually be less compassionate in this timeline. not that he’s mean, he’s a very dedicated paladin of a mercy goddess. but, ultimately, he believes that mercy is a given in the world. he believes in tamara’s ability to force it to occur, and that he is simply a conduit. so he makes less effort to cultivate it himself. kindness is no longer a conscious choice that he has to make, and perhaps, that means it falls slightly more to the wayside.

ezra lives his life secure, confident, and devout.

14. the timeline in which they take a chance they didn’t in canon

i’m gonna do a real throwback here, to gildy’s first campaign that lasted ... less than 10 sessions. I think it was a total of like 6. 

in our second session, we met this old man who lived in the middle of nowhere and everyone thought he was super weird because he would go out in the mornings and sweep dust off his lawn and carry it inside. gildy asked him what he was doing and he revealed that this was actually ash, floating over on the wind from a near-ish-by volcano with a connection to the fire plane. he mixed the ash in with clay to create enchanted pottery.

now, playing an elderly 3d artist, i really wanted to flirt with this other elderly 3d artist, but the dm said no because we’d never come back to this town. but, in the timeline where gildy couldve done whatever the fuck she wanted because she wasn’t constricted by a meta-plot, she would’ve tried really hard to get to know this guy!

she would’ve asked to learn some pottery, her hands still work just fine even though her knees don’t always. she’s used to shaping metal, which fights back. she’d love to learn to shape clay, which almost moves before you do. (she might have tried to do the ghost pottery scene with this dude. she knows what’s up). 

there was a nice smithy in town too, made all kinds of weapons and armor. she would’ve taken up apprenticeship with them and hopefully become one of their artisans. and i think she would’ve had a wonderful time there! a new city, with new people, a new love of her life, all the creation she could ask for at her fingertips, a life that hasn’t grown stagnant even after 270 years. there’s also, if i remember right, a mountain nearby. she does get a little homesick from time to time, the view helps. 

gildy lives her life reimagined, shared, and satisfied.

8. the timeline in which they gain everything they want, except for the thing they wanted most

i think this is actually the timeline he’s in right now!!!!!! he wants more than anything to go back home and be forgiven. i don’t think that’ll happen. even if he does reconcile with rax eventually, he’ll have been gone too long for the clan to feel like home in the same way, and i don’t think either rax or him will ever be able to forget what happened, just build a new relationship around it.

but, he has friends now, which he never thought he would. and a house. with a business under it! what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he’s doing good for the city. he’s part of an order dedicated to righteousness and law. he’s an upstanding citizen!

and. of course. he has savra. he has the potential for unconditional love, for family, for future, everything he thought he’d get back from rax one day, but probably won’t. he’ll fall in love with her before he even knows it, (he’s already started), and when he finally realizes, he’ll feel more okay with it than he ever thought he would be, because she knows what its like to feel shame and she knows how to grow past it. 

he’ll be her good man, and a good father eventually, and he won’t even need to go back home anymore (even though he’ll want to, he’ll always feel a bit of guilt that the half-dragon babies only know their human grandparents, and he’ll miss the summer festival food because you just can’t get the right spices in waterdeep even if he and savra try to cook the meals themselves, and he’ll miss the way his brother punches his arm when he laughs because savra never does that, and -). but he’ll have a home in ways he never thought a home could be, but he likes them, and he’s happy, truly, even with the shadows that still curl around the corner of his heart. 

tov lives his life long, useful, and good.

[srprincess]

Remember Fictober? I know it’s December now, and October seems a year away but I’m still here! Updating slowly!

Prompt 19 “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Check Please Spookydoo fic Chapter 14 (14?!?)

There was a buzz of conversation in the kitchen. Right up until Will and Nursey walked back into it. Then it was replaced by sudden silence and eyes glued down at phones, or whatever else is handy. In Holster’s case a calendar, two years out of date, that Will never got around to replacing or removing from its spot by the doorway. His lighthouse was December, and he figured he was entitled to keep it up.

“Real subtle,” Nursey said before dropping to a mock whisper directed at Will. ”They think we don't know they've been talking about us this whole time.”

Will choked back a snort of laughter.

 After an exchange of somewhat guilty looks, Chowder was the first one who braved breaking the silence, “All right again?”

“Uh, yeah. About that,” embarrassed, Will rubbed the back of his neck. A nervous habit, one he’d never managed to shake. ”I’m sorry for blowing up on you guys. That was - not good. At all. So, yeah. Sorry.”

They tried to assure him it was fine, but he knew better and told them as much. “You guys can't help that you pushed too hard, when I never let on that I was that upset. If I had said, I don’t know, it might have been different. But I didn't and that's on me.”

“That may be so, but we need to do better too,” Bitty said before pushing a plate full of crumble at him.

Will’s mouth quirks, ”I feel like we've fallen into this cycle where you shove food at me, I tell you that you didn't have to-”

”And then you sit and eat it anyhow. Glad you've caught up to the program. Now sit, eat.” Bitty says, sticking the fork in and stepping back.

”Only on the condition that we drop the ’who’s more sorry than who’ contest.”

”And if I don't agree and take back your dessert?”

”All I have to do is-” Will smirked and held the plate over his head, out of Bitty’s reach. Pretty pleased with himself, he did not expect the quick hip check and nearly dropped the plate, allowing Bitty to easily grab hold of it again.

Calls of ’Niiiiice!’ ’Check that out!’ and ’Get it Bits!’ came from the others.

”You were saying?” asked a, justifiably smug, Bitty.

”I’m sorry, you're sorry, everyone is sorry. Can I have my dessert back, please and thank you?” Will answered, holding his hands out hopefully.

Bitty handed the plate back. ”Figure we’re about even now, agreed?”

Will nodded his agreement and dug in on his cobbler before it could be taken away again.

 He only managed a couple bites before Jack stood and spoke up, ”I have to say, we do owe you one more apology.”

”Sweetpea, he just said-"

“No Bits, I’ve been thinking about it. Sometimes we get wrapped up in the whole story that we’re chasing - and this is a great story - but we forget these are actual people and that’s not right. Look what we've been doing here.” Jack motioned to the rest of his friends sprawled out around the kitchen and dining area. ”Here we sit in his home, where we practically pushed our way in. We’re digging through his family, questioning him about his friends. Uninvited,” Will tried to interrupt, but Jack carried on like he had a set speech in his head and nothing was going to stop him. ”He couldn't be more of a private person. Lives out here alone, practically on the edge of the country. We were literally told to leave him be. And here we are anyway. Over something that happened long before he was even born. It's one thing when we choose public life, but even then - think if someone came to ours poking around,” Jack visibly shuddered at the thought, ”I don’t even want to think about it. But you know that a little yelling and a door slam would just be the start. What we have done is worse than that, because he never made that choice.” Jack turned back to Will, ”Barging in here and putting demands on you was wrong, and I am - no, we are - very sorry for how we have acted and how we upset you.”  

After a pause - because what was he supposed to say to all of that? - Will went with a, very true, observation. ”I think that’s the most words I’ve heard you say yet.”

”That’s it? That’s your takeaway? You don't want to tell us off or to leave, or- ” Jack replied, seeming surprised.

”Ayuh, that and I’m still sorry. I should have said it was bothering me instead of letting it all build up bigger than it was and then blowing. And you're wrong. You might have showed up on your own, but I did both invite you in and offer to help. Yelling and storming off? That’s no way to be.” He’d been told off for his temper often enough over the years that he didn't have to think too hard before the echo of lectures past came back to him. He thought maybe it had gotten better but that night showed him it might have had more to do with the lack of other people to rage at than personal growth.

Jack seemed mostly relieved, but, ”-you aren’t going to ask anything else?”

Will, unsure where Jack was going with the question, replayed the, for lack of a better word, speech through in his head. ”The public life thing?” Jack nodded, and so he asked, ”I mean, I guess - Should I know you?”

Jack frowned, “I don’t want to say it like that, sounds, ugh.”

Holster pointed out, ”I'm pretty sure that's the kind of question you would have to punch yourself in the face for answering yes to.”

“Yeah, would have to ask Shitty, but I think it's in the revised bylaws,” Ransom added.

“Well, in any case, if you wanted me to know you’d tell me so I don’t see where it matters. You want privacy and if there’s anyone that should know to respect that, it’s me. So, there we go.” Will told Jack, letting him off the hook. Pointing at his plate, he asked, “Now can I enjoy the rest of this?”

 After that everyone settled, and conversation went back to what seemed to be normal. Mix of random chitchat and plans for the rest of the trip. It was comfortable, the house seeming more lived in than it had for ages. Will couldn't help but think, not for the first time, how quiet it was going to be when they left. He’d gotten used to this so quickly and, even with the hiccups, thought he would be sorry to see it end.

Almost on cue, Farmer yawned and said “We should probably be headed out here soon. Getting late.”

“You aren’t waiting for the others?” Will asked.

”Shitty and Lardo?”

He nodded, ”Unless you have any other spare friends hiding around here somewhere.”

”Not that we brought with us!” Chowder helpfully - maybe even cheerfully? - answered. “They checked in while you two were, um, out. They’re camping for the night. Said they’d see us for breakfast.”

“Oh alright then. Did you still want to meet up tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ransom told him. ”That’ll give us time to check on a few things. I saved a sat image from Maps and circled your neighbor’s place.  The realtor isn’t open until 10 am according to their site, but once they are I'm going to send that in and see what they can tell me.”

”Okay, and Nurse and I are headed to the cottage first daylight. I'm sure I’ll be back here long before you guys are done.”

“First light?” Derek asked mournfully.

“First light-ish.” Will compromised.

“First light plus time for leftover pizza and two coffees?”

“Fine, but clean off the counters set the pot up now.”

”This is practically domestic,”  came a whisper from somewhere in the direction on the table. Will wasn't sure from who exactly, because he was distracted by the clear up. Once the others started gathering their things, he moved on to hooking some of his lights up to their respective chargers and checking batteries in the rest. He left the borrowed vests and coats in a pile by the back closet for Future Will to deal with. He might like things relatively tidy, but he was no saint and it had been a night.

 Just as Will was finishing that up, he heard Jack calling from the front door to ask if everyone was ready.

”Not quite,” Bitty told him. “Nursey still needs his shoes and coat.”

”Uh, actually...I’m staying. Dex asked.”

Will peeked around the corner just in time to see Bitty’s eyebrows hit his hairline, and - was that a blush dusting Nursey’s cheeks? Hard to say from that far away, but he let himself think that maybe he wasn't entirely off the mark then with those looks he thought he saw? Interesting. Something to think about. Something to obsess over and probably a reason kick himself when remembering fast he backtracked when he asked him over earlier.

Even straining his ears, he couldn't hear what Bitty said next, but Nursey told him ”Oh my God, just go,” and pushed him out the door, laughing.

“What was that about?” Will asked, after joining him at the door and sliding the lock.

“You don’t even want to know,” Nursey told him. “You tired yet?”

“I know I should be, and I’ll regret this come morning but...Not really?”

“Same. I could stand some cleaning up though. About those clothes you said I could borrow-”

“Oh yeah, let me just go and grab them.“

 Nursey followed him down the hall to his room. After a quick dig through the drawers, Will handed over another worn in t-shirt and a pair of flannel plants.

Nursey held up the shirt, ”Are you sure I didn't return those clothes?”

”Yep.”

“I only ask, because I would swear this is the same one you loaned me last time.”

”Promise. The shirts were on sale, and I liked ’em well enough I bought a stack.”

”You bought a stack. A stack of shirts. Identical?” Will nodded, and Nursey shook his head. ”You buy your clothes by the pile. That is - I don't even know, ” he laughed. “It's either the funniest or saddest thing I've ever heard, and I'm not sure which.”

Annoyed, Will tried, too slowly, to grab the shirt back, “If you're too good for my shirts-”

“Chill, it's just chirpin’,” Nursey told him, already headed to the bathroom across the hall.

Will suspected chirping was actually code for trying to piss him off, but let it go anyway.  No point in shouting at a door. He grabbed his own change of clothes, another pair of flannel pants and yes another matching shirt. He thought about grabbing a different one, but these were already broken in and comfortable, damn it.

By the time he was done with his own shower, Nursey had already finished and was back in the living room checking out his shelves. He looked, very deliberately at Will’s shirt and his damn eyes practically sparkled with the laugh he was holding in.

”Don’t even,” Will warned him.

Nursey bit his lip and held up his hands, false image of innocence. ”I wasn't - I said nothing!”

”And you said it loudly. Pick a movie or something. They're in the drawers,” Will pointed below the bookshelves. “I’m going to make some popcorn.”

“How can you still be hungry?”

“I'm not, really, but you can't have movies without popcorn. You don't have to have any.”

When he came back with the bowl Nursey was still flipping through the DVDs.

”You haven't found anything yet?” Will asked him.

“There's too many choices!”

Okay, maybe that was fair. He did have a pretty extensive collection, covering nearly every genre. ”No cable out here, and it’s not like I’m about to put a dish on the lighthouse ya know. Just pick anything.”

”Anything? You sure?”

”Why not? I said your choice, and I like it all or I wouldn’t have it.”

Nursey held up an old Disney DVD that Will had forgotten he owned as if daring him to shoot it down. He shrugged to say why not and popped it in the player. Lilo and Stitch was a solid choice, and who didn't like a cartoon at the end of a rough day?

 To spite his earlier protest, Nursey must have actually wanted the popcorn, Will thought to himself. He'd ignored the entire rest of the long couch to flop nearly into Will’s lap after he’d tucked himself into his usual corner and grabbed a large handful out of the bowl. Will could have sworn he felt eyes on him a few times, but each time he looked up Nursey was either watching the screen or down at the bowl so he figured he must be imagining things. Like how he thought he was going to grab his hand when he was actually digging for the perfect buttered piece of popcorn. Totally his imagination. Yeah.

After both the popcorn and the movie were halfway to finished Will decided Nursey had also been lying about not being tired. With a smile, he grabbed his phone off the side table and snapped a selfie featuring the man currently sleeping on his shoulder, mouth open and tiny bit of drool about to drip onto his own shirt. He told himself he was saving it because it would be good for some ’chirping’ of his own later. Right. Why else? So what if it was a decent picture of himself too. And proof he’d associated with another person.

He turned down the volume on the tv and pulled up a mindless game on his phone, settled in to kill a little more time. He didn't want to disturb Nursey, and it wasn't like he was ready to go to sleep yet anyway. He had trouble falling asleep most nights as it was, and he didn't think his mind was going to quit spinning any time soon. Between game levels, he switched over to his browser and stared at the screen. Very determinedly NOT googling the man sleeping on him, because - why again? Oh yeah, that would be weird. Even if he was apparently some sort of author with at least one other famous friend. It would be beyond awkward if Nursey were to wake up and see him snooping. And the whole privacy thing. Not bullshit, an actual legitimate reason to leave it alone. That��s what he told himself anyway, as he resisted temptation and switched to a different game and started playing.

After about the 1000th round, Will finally dropped the phone and joined Nursey in sleep.

 A weight settled over Will and pulled him back awake. At first he thought it was Nursey, but no. Too light for that. He wasn't sure how long he’d been out, but it was still dark out. From the side of the couch he heard a whispered ”This is so cute” and his eyes snapped wide open. Before he could shout, his ’neighbor’ put her fingers to her lips and hushed him.

”Hi.” she whispered, nervous.

”You. Lou. Hi.” Smooth. Real smooth Will. He mentally slapped himself. At least he’d remembered her name this time. He looked down to check if Nursey had woken, but he was still out cold, now covered in the same blanket he was. That must have been what woke him. He looked back up and just stared at her, for the first time catching a flicker.

”So...I guess you know now, huh?”

”It’s true?” he asked, mindful to keep his voice down.

She nodded, ”Depending on what exactly you think you know...mostly, at least.”

”Were you ever going to tell me?”

”How mad would you be if I said no?” She caught his look, ”Never mind, look who I’m asking. Of course you're upset. You know, at first I thought you knew. You kept trying to steer the tourists away all those years.”

”That's because-”

She waved him off, “I figured it out. You just really don't like outsiders. Or people in general. Most of them, in any case. Seems this handsome stranger is an exception though. Second time keeping company in as many days, if I'm not mistaken.”

Will blushed.

”Could it be that making friends wasn't the worst thing in the world?”

“What do you want me to say? Yes, I admit it, you were right. This hasn't been entirely awful.”

And it wasn't. Except for feeling like he somehow lost his friend, even if she was standing right there. And questioning what he knew about - well, everything. That had been awful.

”About, umm,” he felt ridiculous even saying it, but he had to ask, “ghosts. Not you, but-”

”Not to change the subject?” she countered.

”No, absolutely to change the subject. But I also want to know. Need to know really. Are there others or is it just you?”

”There’s others.”

”Here?” Will looked around the room. Thought of his parents and other family long gone. Were they still here? If they were, why hadn't he ever seen them?

She picked up on his meaning, ”Not here here. Some echos.”

“What’s an echo?” Will asked.

She took a moment to think before answering, “I think of an echo as a shadow of a person. They aren’t there, but the feelings left behind are. Occasionally you can see things they often did repeatedly replayed. Like your great grandfather walking the deck. He’s not there, but can still be seen sometimes.”  

That explained some interesting calls he gotten during his few ventures out of town. “Anyone from when you-” Will struggled with how to ask what he wanted tactfully.

”When I died? I don’t think so. If so, I’ve not seen them. And I’ve looked.”

Will thought about her concern for him being lonely and started to understand it better. ”I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Not everyone stays, and that's better honestly. And I don't know how long-” she stopped to take a breath that Will was now sure she didn't need. Must have been a habit left over from before.

”I've been pushing things and it’s getting tougher to hold on. That storm? That's been happening more and more when I try to force being present too hard. I’m the oldest I know of and I'm not sure but I think my-” Her entire self flickered, and Will sure as hell rubbed his eyes at that, then she muttered, ”Not again. This is why I've got to go. Too much at once and I lose the grip. I'll try to be back, on my word.”

”But wait-” Will started, but it was too late. She was gone. Unfortunately, he was too loud, and Nursey woke up.

 ”Did you say something?” Nursey asked, voice scratchy with sleep.

Will wasn't sure if he should say anything about his visitor. After all, what if he had imagined the whole thing. Wishful thinking, though who would wish for a cut off unhelpful conversation, he didn't know, but still. ”Umm maybe? I don't know.” he answered vaguely.

Nursey squinted his eyes ”You don’t know?”

”Do you always repeat other people?” Will deflected.

”Do you always say weird shit?”

”Maybe I talk in my sleep.”

”Do you?”

”How am I supposed to know? Who’s gonna tell me? Anyway, we should go to bed. Our beds I mean. Separately. So I won't disturb you in case of future talking.”

”I would talk about this more, but I'm still tired.” Nursey pulled himself to his feet and then offered Will a hand up. ”Remind me to interrogate you further in the morning.”

”Of course.” Will lied, hoping he'd forget the whole strange exchange.

Before leaving the room, Will took a good look at the blanket on the couch. If he needed any more proof she was really there, that would be it. The blanket in question was a quilt his mom had sewn for him. He knew for a fact the last time he saw it was when he packed it away in a box of things he couldn't deal with looking at right after the accident. A box that was shoved deep into his parents’ closet before he locked the room. He knew he hadn't opened it up, and who else could have gotten in?

Still, he kept quiet. Even after talking to her, it wasn't like he had anything helpful to tell the rest of them. It was more personal, he reasoned.

 Will paused in the doorway when he showed Nursey to his room. He didn't even realize they were holding hands until it was time to let go. He wanted to say something, and it looked like Nursey did too, but instead, after an awkward moment that hopefully felt longer than it actually was, they both just said goodnight and headed to their own beds.  

[princebenedictadams]

Ben Adams Biography

↬ Full name ↫

Benedict Florian Adams

↬ Nickname ↫

Benny, but that’s reserved for Rose

↬ Birthday ↫

July 16th

↬ Birthplace ↫

Auradon City

↬ Zodiac ↫

Cancer

↬ Height ↫

Liam is 5′10″ ish but Ben is 6′0″

↬ Orientation ↫

Heterosexual, panromantic

↬ Social Class ↫

Upper upper upper upper class -- he’s royal

↬ Wealth ↫

Extremely wealthy 

a p p e a r a n c e

↬ Tattoos ↫

He’s getting a rose for his Rosie

↬ Piercing ↫

None!

↬ Outfits ↫

He’s always in semi-formal clothes cause he’s a prince but some days he just really wants to dress like a frat bro.

↬ Accessories ↫

Always wearing his royal ring (idk the technical term), but soon his wedding ring always

p e r s o n a l i t y

↬ Normal mood ↫

Ben is a happy guy, 95% of the time has a smile on his face and does whatever he can to make those around him happy too. 

↬ Temper ↫ He is probably the most patient person in all of Auradon. I mean, he waited how long for Rose to finally accept that the two of them were meant to be together and stay together? But he is also super patient with people who have opposing ideas.

↬ Discipline ↫

The discipline on this man is unlike any other, but that’s to be expected since he’s going to be king.

↬ Strengths ↫

Ben is kind and physically strong. I’d say mentally as well, he definitely can be persuaded emotionally but he’s usually good at standing his own ground.

↬ Weaknesses ↫

Rose can break him which we’ve seen. Anything happening to anyone in Auradon or the VKs that are in Auradon. If anything were to happen to Nolan-- end of. He’d kill whoever killed Nolan.

↬ Drive/dreams ↫

Ben doesn’t have a lot that he dreams of, he was pretty much handed everything his whole life-- even a soulmate. But he does have a drive to make sure everyone is treated fairly and equally.

↬ Fears ↫

Disappointing people, losing someone he loves

↬ Likes ↫

Rose, his friends, tourney, going outside and being active

↬ Dislikes ↫

Bullies and violence (physical and magical)

↬ Soft spot ↫

Rose and his best friends

↬ Depression ↫

Whenever Rose broke up with him but he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore.

↬ Inspiration ↫

Building a better future for his children and every citizen of USAuradon.

↬ Role model ↫

His parents and Nolan. Even though Nolan probably doesn’t know it, but he admires his heart and his ability to try and get over his fears.

↬ Mental disorder ↫

N/A

↬ Habits ↫

He picks at the seams of the wrists of his jackets when he’s nervous

r a t i n g s

(5 Stars means very high strength, 1 star means very low strength aka weak)

↬ Psychological strength ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - I’d say very strong. He was the only one strong enough to want to bring over VK’s from the isle.

↬ Physical strength ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - Ben doesn’t like violence, but he could knock anyone out if he had to.

↬ Leadership ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - He’s going to be king, it comes with the title for most people.

↬ Wisdom ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑ - He is good at giving advice but isn’t the best at taking his own advice.

↬ Intelligence ↫

⭑⭑⭑ - It depends about what. He isn’t the most book smart but like he doesn’t need calculus to run a country.

↬ Confidence ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑ - He’s confident but not cocky. He knows how to carry himself also he does know that he’s hot.

↬ Endurance ↫

⭑⭑⭑⭑ - As a leader he can get stressed so I’ll knock it down to a four star, but he’s quite good at working things out on his own.

r e l a t i o n s h i p s

↬ Father ↫

King Beast

↬ Mother ↫

Queen Belle

↬ Siblings ↫

Only child

↬ Other relatives ↫

Not blood related to anyone else

↬ Enemies ↫

Grant LeGrand he wants to fuck that kid UP, and just anyone who wants to overthrow Auradon instead of having equality

↬ Rivals ↫

Also Grant.

↬ Friends ↫

Rose, Nolan, Sloane, Evie, Chase, Kai, Mei, Sam... basically anyone on the tourney team and in the frat

↬ Best friend ↫

Nolan Adam White, but they’re basically brothers 

↬ Love interest ↫

Rose Malin

↬ Marital status ↫

Engaged, but soon to be married to Rose

↬ Children ↫

Not yet, but eventually Violetta, Regan, Acacia, and Mitchell 

↬ Pets ↫

No pets but they should definitely get a pet.

p a s s - t i m e

↬ Hobbies ↫

He goes outside and tries to stay active

↬ Talents ↫

Ben doesn’t have any additional talents that would not be fair

↬ Sports ↫

Tourney

↬ Classes ↫

Ben is a Magical Relations and International Relations double major and minoring in political science.

↬ Occupation ↫

He’s a student and about to be the king of auradon.

h o m e   l i f e

↬ Location ↫

He has two, the one he shares with Rose and the castle, both in Auradon City technically.

↬ House size ↫

The castle is as big as you’d expect, and his and Rose’s is big so they can have a family and raise them there.

↬ House type ↫

It’s gothic victorian and beautiful.

↬ Level of luxury ↫

It’s pretty luxurious but nothing compared to the castle

↬ Outdoor description ↫

It’s classic and has ivy growing on it with tons of space in the yards and fountains and it’s so green and private.

↬ Indoor description ↫

They wanted to keep the gothic style of the original design but also make it more modern and homey.

↬ Bedroom description ↫

It’s huuuuuge with its own fireplace and personal balcony.

L I F E    S T O R Y

↬ Age 0-12 ↫

Benny lived a very privileged life growing up in the castle and being the little prince that everyone loved. At times it could get lonely, he never knew who was really his friend or just wanted to be his friend because he was the prince. Nolan was the only person he knew he could always count on.

↬ Age 13-18 ↫

Ben dreamt of Rose and had the core four brought over to Auradon from the Isle. It was definitely a big change for Auradon but not one he regrets. He got to meet Rose and fall in love with her. Be broken up with her a few times too. 

↬ Age 19-30 (or 25) ↫

When he got to college, he decided to loosen his reigns a little. He joined the frat with Nolan as the president and him as the VP, kept with tourney. His social side got a little wild the first couple of years but he’s taking everything more seriously as becoming king gets closer and closer. He even got back together for good with Rose and proposed to her.

↬ Darkest secret ↫

Ben covered up a crime committed by a VK who will not be named in order to keep them in Auradon and not sent back to the Isle.

[ithinkthingsaboutstuff]

how do you think Brainy views his family's symbol? how well-known/feared do you think that symbol is, in the present day or in the future?

Hi friend, 

I have made a mini fic touching on this (not every much tho) 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892233

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how do I think Brainy views it?

well i think he has a ‘love’ ‘hate’ kind of relationship with it.

like the symbol carriers this weight of intelligence and absolution in that intelligence, so it is a mark of how smart he is and why someone should listen to him, without having to go through social formalities (i.e talking to people, proving himself as capable, or needing to even explain why you should listen to him)    

on the other hand they symbol also carrier that fear and evil reputation,

“conquers” “tyrants” “world collectors” 

so he has is reservations about having that attached to him of course. (and you know on his face in this case)

but one of the most interesting things about brainy as a character (comic and show) is that he does not want to erase his family name but reclaim it.

he wants to build it back up in an image that he (and to some extent the universe) can be proud of. because intelligence is not evil on its own, and his every existence proves that.

and i believe that symbol is the epitome of that belief, 

Brainy does not wish to run from his problems his family made that would be foolish and a waste of time, But he can’t ever be free of them either. so he wants to flip the script, by being a hero and making that his legacy and theirs by proxy.

so he hates what it stands for now, but he loves the penitential it can have through his action’s

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how well-known/feared do you think that symbol is, in the present day or in the future?

I think in the present day it is well know it just depends no were you go.

like (and i may be remembering this wrong) Kara did not even know who the Coluian people were in s1 until indigo showed up and the Kalex told her.

and Kara has seen and knows a fair amount about outer space at his point in time, by she has been out of touch for years so that might explain it 

but i think its comic canon (again might remember this wrong) that Clou was the first to have space travel in the whole universe, and when they realised no one else did they got bored and built Brainiac to go out and do it for them, (i’m missing details by that’s the gist)

so it think they are super well know in there part of the galaxy and they went undetected for so long what because they city’s they were taking were not advanced enough to call for help,   

so its like Brainiac would go find a planet, bottle a city, destroy the planet, move on, and with on other way to send out a message or fight back who could stop or even know about them.

so i think it would have been like a myth to Kara as a child like a dead star system near by, and her ancestors were looking at the stars and saw them vanishing and they said it was a monster or whatever (think Krypton, space cthulhu)   

so i think the ‘myth’ still lives in some place’s that are far ish to Colu and I just think when other planets got space travel/ commutations the myths became less so. 

so i think they are better know as of now but people just don’t understand how much they have done and for how long, as Brainiac is not dumb enough to broadcast what he is doing,

like now someone will leave there planet and come back and it will be gone and there is only small traces of it left, like one or two panicked commutations that is then taken over by THAT SYMBOL 

so if someone see it it means death, destruction and so on       

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in the future it think it is super well know

cause after the superfam legends and the fact people/planets were catching up to Colu tech wise, made it easier to ID them and keep track of it,

so the united planets and the legion are able to ward them off and maybe even if just barley and if only as a caution to stay way.

but everyone knows that symobl on way or the other

whether it be cave paintings or a galactic watch list 

everyone knows that symbol and it is not good 

for now.