#but it takes toll on you hearing and seeing more horrifieing news each day with half the world taking the side of the oppressor

[ganondoodle]

im 27 now

[dualitysdownfall]

fic sketch: empress feferi

maybe i'll get into the habit of posting these... basically the writing equivalent of sketches: an incomplete piece, for practice and exploration, that i don't intend to do more with.

here is one from a few months ago that i expanded on a little just now. basically a non-sburb, feferi becoming empress moment. she'd be 9 sweeps or so here (19.5 years)

part of the reason i didn't want to expand on it is that i had a fuller fic idea that basically boils down to empress feferi, but set in an au, and the few things i might want to explore in a standard alternia "empress fef" story are things i would also want to explore in that one. so, rather than write the same story twice in different flavors, i just popped out this little sketch (which is related to my feferi drawing for the bloodlines zine)

read below:

(warning for violence, blood, and death.)

Gasping for breath, you scan her body for a way to stun her. The duration of the fight is getting to both of you now, and she's beginning to stumble, out of both exhaustion and fury. She growls at you, a rough, low sound that sends a reflexive shock through your veins. But you don't freeze in place. You can't afford to.

Finally, you catch it. She steps forward and falters, just a little. This is your moment. You stomp your foot down in front of her, hooking it around her ankle so she can't escape. She hisses at you in rage, which means she isn't attacking yet! She couldn't have given you a better opportunity if you asked her to! You pull your trident back and THRUST.

The sound of gushing blood amidst her ragged, desperate breaths is horrifying and putrid. You can't bring yourself to look until you hear the heavy thud of an adult body falling limp to the floor.

A literal bell tolls. It's so massive you can feel the vibrations through every bone in your body.

From the loudspeakers in the ceiling comes a voice you don't recognize that announces, "Citizens of the Alternian Empire, all hail your new ruler, Empress Feferi Peixes."

The words "Empress Feferi Peixes" ring out throughout the room, throughout the building, throughout the planet, throughout the universe. A universe that is yours to inherit, now. It's yours. Every planet Alternian forces have claimed, every ship, every troll has to answer to you, as of fifteen seconds ago.

You feel like you can't breathe.

You always knew one day you would make it here, and hopefully do exactly what you've just done. It comes with the blood, you see; you were destined for this.

You were destined for it, someday. But you certainly didn't expect it to be today. You aren't prepared. Your reform plans are incomplete, and your friends and your thoughts alike are scattered like fallen leaves in a gale. Whenever you thought about this moment, you expected that you would have more time, that you would have backup when the time came. All you can think, as you stare blankly at the mutilated, lifeless form of your own ancestor, at the golden crown with your sign on it that is now yours to claim, is that you are not ready to bear the weight of the universe on your shoulders.

Yet that weight comes crashing down on you regardless, as your name reverberates throughout this hall and beyond (oh god you haven't even come up with an adult title), and the realization of the gargantuan, galactic scale of your responsiblity is suffocating. Numbers so big your mind can't comprehend them swim through your mind, and behind each one is an entire life, an entire person. Friend groups and communities and cities and continents, and it's your job to take care of them all. Even now, you can hear the voices of the onlookers--your subjects!--trying to speak to you as their new ruler: lowbloods begging you for mercy, highbloods derisively comparing you to your ancestor, children fearfully asking if everything is going to be okay now.

You hope it will be. That's all you can do right now.

Desperately urging yourself not to cry you will NOT have that be your first impression as empress you will NOT--you heave yourself to your feet using your trident to pull yourself up. It's still dripping with fuchsia blood, a color you've rarely ever seen, and now it's everywhere, pooling in the punctures you yourself put into your ancestor's torso and spreading across the polished floor.

Breathing shakily, hands trembling, you gaze out to the sea of faces waiting expectantly for their leader to say something. You open your mouth, then hesitate. God you wish you had someone here to help you. Or at least some prepared lines.

"People of Alternia…" you begin, begging your mind to produce more words any words no not just any words you can't sound like an idiot right now, "for too long our species has been divided, and we were taught to reinforce those divides with hatred and violence. My goal as empress is to unite trollkind as equals and create a world--a universe--that shows generosity to the disadvantaged, that doesn't treat differences in color or appearance with violence and disgust, but with care and kindness. We have a long way to sail before this is achieved, but I believe it is possible. We will not be defined by anger and hate."

When you fall silent once more, the crowd erupts into a mix of grateful cheering and uproarious protests. It's no surprise where the latter sounds like it's coming from. You try to ignore them. They won't change their minds immediately, you've always known that much. It will take time. But you swear, you will make things better no matter how long it takes.

As the noise from the crowd begins to settle, you look to the lone attendant who stood by during your battle, some servant of your ancestor's and you suppose now they serve you. When you make eye contact with them, they jump a little, like they weren't expecting such concentrated attention from you and are decently certain that having it isn't a good thing. It takes a second for them to realize your expression is not a death glare, it's a plea for help. Slowly but steadily they approach you and offer their hand to guide you out of this chamber to somewhere private. You were decently roughed up in the fight yourself, your legs scraped and bleeding through the tears in your leggings. You use your trident as a walking stick, sending a heavy, rhythmic, metallic clunking sound down the hall.

[zeta-in-de-walls]

Brief summary of the Dream SMP S2 + S3

Hey guys, I’ve been meaning to make another helpful recap! [Here’s my summary of the 1st season of the SMP]. 

Just to be clear, I consider S1 to be all the events up to the Nov 16th war. S2 are the events from Nov17th-Jan 20th. S3 is the current arc

And like before, I mostly watch Tommy’s POV so I’m only going to cover his storyline. Sorry! I won’t be touching much on the Red egg, or Fundy’s story or Quackity’s stuff. You can easily follow Tommy’s story through his vods channel, as every stream is archived there. The roleplaying is much more prominent these days so this is going to be wordy but I’ll try to be as succinct as possible and keep it up to date.

=> Tubbo, now President, commits to rebuilding New L’Manburg. It’s on stilts, leaving the crater below as a memorial of the events that went down. Wilbur’s ghost appears, a friendly ghost who can only remember the good things from Wilbur’s life. He commits himself to rebuilding L’Manburg, wanting to make others happy. 

=> Quackity wants to go after Technoblade in revenge for what he did to L’Manburg. Technoblade has retreated to distant lands but Quackity fears he will come back again if they do not stop him. Tubbo shoots his suggestion down, emphasising that he wants peace above all. Fundy, also part of L’Manburg’s Govt, sides with Quackity though they listen to Tubbo as he’s the President. 

=> Tommy, now Vice-President again, moves into his old house. He meets several of the new members of the SMP, including Philza, ConnorEatsPants and CaptainPuffy - while he’s not involved in rebuilding he does make an effort to bond with some of the new members. After so long in exile, he wants to focus on his own goals and have fun now that L’Manburg is safe. 

=>BadBoyHalo organises a funeral for JSchlatt, who is now deceased. Rather than being respectful, everyone messes around, stealing his remains and making fun of the former tyrant. 

=> Vikkstar and Lazarbeam also join the server. Tommy makes a bit of a bad first impression. Next another new member joins, Ranboo. Tommy invites him to go prank George’s house: they dress up in disguises and go rob it in the middle of the night, griefing it some for good measure. After Tommy logs off, Dream logs on.

=> Dream builds a huge obsidian wall around L’Manburg - notably with far harsher borders. Everyone is confused and appalled. Dream indicates that Tommy’s to blame. Dream’s using George’s house as an excuse to challenge L’Manburg’s authority by taking offense to Tommy’s grief. 

=> The next day, the cabinet speaks to Tommy and, feeling attacked, he denies everything. They take him and Ranboo to court with Dream threatening to build the walls even higher if Tommy is not punished. Tommy eventually confesses when they start blaming Ranboo too and Tommy insists that Ranboo had nothing to do with it. 

=> They hold a meeting. Tommy is to be punished. Tubbo tries to argue for probation where Tommy is stripped of his power and has to be on best behaviour for 3 weeks. Dream would prefer exile but listens. If Tommy were to break probation, he would double the size of the obsidian walls, trapping L’Manburg further, and have guards patrolling the walls, preventing the citizens from leaving. Tommy is outraged at this, finding Dream’s actions entirely unfair. 

=> He realises that Dream doesn’t have that much on them where Tommy still has Spirit - the remains of Dream’s dead horse which he once traded Tommy’s disc to Skeppy for. He threatens Dream - take down the walls or he destroys Spirit. Dream goes silent... then doubles the obsidian walls, stating he cares about nothing anymore except Tommy’s music discs and that he’s going to trap L’Manburg forever - it can be independent but never free.

=> They have another meeting. Tommy wants to call Technoblade and fight Dream as he’s oppressing them. Quackity and Fundy agree with this plan, not wanting to comply with Dream. Tubbo refuses, wanting to avoid a badly-thought out war and agrees to exile Tommy. Everyone’s shocked. As Tubbo is the President, it was his call. Tommy is lead away by Dream, accompanied by Ghostbur. Dream promises to take down the walls, now that L’Manburg has complied.

=> Quackity says that they need to get respect back as currently they have no power. He again suggests a ‘butcher army’ where they go after Technoblade as justice for L’Manburg and, this time, Tubbo agrees. 

=> Meanwhile, Tommy is lead to a faraway land; his exile forbids him from going to any already inhabited land in the SMP. Dream destroys all his things and he has to start fresh. Tommy feels betrayed by everyone despite Ghostbur’s attempts to cheer him up; they call the land Logstedshire. 

=> BadboyHalo visits Tommy and gives him a new music disc - chirp. (He wants to offer more, but Dream stops him.) Dream arrives to watch Tommy, making him destroy his iron armour and follows him around while Tommy tries to mine and build his new base. Tommy makes a tent as he doesn’t want this to be his permanent home. Ghostbur gives him and Tubbo compasses pointing to each other.

=> Exile takes a toll on Tommy. His humour grows darker with more references to death. Others visit but it feels disingenuous to Tommy. He feels lonely. Dream keeps visiting and destroying his armour and other things. But Tommy appreciates the company all the same. One time he has a hallucination of Tubbo visiting. (Tubbo’s too guilty to visit.)

=> Tommy decides to have a beach party so people will visit to see him but he only tells Dream and Ghostbur and Dream secretly sabotages the invites, sending Ghostbur away. When no one but Dream shows up, Tommy gets extremely depressed and angry, destroying the bridge he built through the nether. He decides Dream must be his only friend and even convinces Dream to give him a trident. 

=> Jack Manifold visits while Tommy is feeling depressed and Tommy spleefs him into lava in rage before regretting it as he realises this dark mindset is unhealthy. Jack begins to hate Tommy, secretly wanting revenge.

=> Tommy is losing hope, feeling like he will die. He makes a secret room from Dream full of stuff he never wants to lose including pictures of Tubbo and other keepsakes. Dream discovers this room and grows furious, blowing up Logsteadshire and destroys all his things, his armour, his diamonds, everything. The only thing Tommy keeps safe is the pictures of Tubbo. Tommy apologises repeatedly, begging Dream to stay his friend, that he’s so lonely as Dream forbids anyone from ever visiting, destroying the nether portal.

=> Tommy nearly decides to end his life but reconsiders as he realises that Dream was just here to watch him, not be his friend. He cannot give up hope and let him win. So he runs away, and eventually ends up at Technoblade’s house in the wilderness.

=> In L’manburg Quackity sets off his Butcher army plan and they force Philza to tell them where Techno lives, placing his under house arrest for helping a known criminal. From Philza they take a compass that leads them to Techno’s house. Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy and Ranboo all fight Techno who is prepared with potions and gear. Thanks to Dream, he also has a totem of undying. Quackity threatens Techno’s horse, Carl, and Techno surrenders, giving them his weapons and armour, letting them lead him to L’Manburg where they immediately execute him, skipping a trial. Thanks to the totem, Techno lives. He escapes into the sewers with help from Dream and Punz. Quackity finds him but Techno kills him with a netherite pickaxe and flees home on Carl. He swears revenge, determined to absolute destroy L’Manburg for daring to attack him. 

=> L’Manburg decides instead that their true enemy is Dream and plan a festival to catch and kill him. Ranboo visits Techno and gives him back his armour. Tubbo visits Logsteadshire and thinks Tommy is dead.

=> Tommy sees Techno who takes pity on him given that Tommy was exiled and now he’s on the run from Dream. Techno shows him his vault containing 150 wither skulls with which he wants to use to destroy L’Manburg. Tommy is horrified and doesn’t want to destroy his old home in spite of his conflicted feelings. He just wants to get his music discs back. Techno suggests working with him and he’ll help get the discs back if Tommy does some minor terrorism with him. Tommy agrees. 

=> Dream turns up, looking for Tommy. Techno hides him but notes that he does owe Dream a favour for saving his life. Tommy is very confused about Dream - seeing him as both a friend and enemy, obviously emotionally vulnerable after exile. He fixates on the discs as the one goal that looks achievable. He is reliant on Techno for protection and looks to him for what to do, having no confidence of his own. Techno lets him have armour and golden apples.

=> Techno and Tommy commit acts of terrorism in L’Manburg. They kidnap Connor, torture him a bit and get Tubbo to exchange him for Techno’s crossbow. Tubbo was shocked to see Tommy was alive while Tommy calls Tubbo a monster, after hearing that he tried to kill his new friend Technoblade. He is conflicted though even as Techno shares his negative opinion on L’Manburg. Dream confronts them and Techno protects Tommy, though he offers his favour. Dream refuses, saving the favour, and leaves Tommy alone for now.

=> More terrorism, this time Techno releases a wither while Tommy threatens Fundy and Ranboo, getting back Techno’s sword and axe while accidentally scaring Fundy so much he drowns and even Techno is alarmed at his aggressiveness. Only afterwards does Tommy reflect that he’s going far too far and this might not be right. Techno says he’s beginning to respect him where originally he was useless and tells him his real plan to destroy L’Manburg. Tommy is scared. He reluctantly agrees, then backtracks and says he only wants the discs, not to hurt Tubbo but he is very uncertain. 

=> The festival occurs. Tubbo and co. host it waiting for Dream to arrive. Tommy and Techno head over, seeing a scary prison Dream commissioned on the way. When they get there Dream appears but rather than take off his armour, he starts rebuilding the obsidian walls. It’s apparently because of Tommy again.

=> The community house has been blown up. Dream blames Tommy and everyone seems to believe him. He says that he considers L’Manburg responsible for Tommy’s actions unless Tubbo gives up Mellohi, which Tommy gave to him as a sign of trust.

=> Tommy appears and says that he didn’t do it. He’s hurt that Tubbo doesn’t believe him and angry at everyone. He and Tubbo and up fighting while the rest of the server watches. They’re screaming at each other until finally Tommy says that the discs were worth more than he ever was. They both freeze, digesting what he just said.

=> Tommy regrets and says to Tubbo to give up the disc to Dream, saying he’s becoming worse than everyone he hated. Then he says he’s on Tubbo’s side, on L’Manburg’s side - because all his violent behaviour was wrong and he should not let his trauma justify anything. 

=> Technoblade says Tommy should come with him, that he’s siding with the enemy after all he’s done for him. Tommy’s mind is made up. Techno accepts this and demands his axe back, saying he’s no longer worthy of it. Tommy refuses, saying he decides that he is worthy. Techno leaves, saying either way he’s going to destroy L’Manburg and that Tommy’s made a mistake.

=> Dream calls Tubbo the worst president ever, explaining how he was pretending to be friends with Tubbo for it and now that he has the disc, he’s going to destroy L’Manburg with Techno tomorrow. He also says that Ranboo is a traitor. Dream leaves.

=> Tommy is in an awkward spot, but apologises to the surrounding crowd. He swears that he didn’t destroy the Community house and that everyone needs to put their differences aside for now because they don’t have time to argue or hold grudges. They need to band together to save L’Manburg from Dream and Technoblade. Settle their differences afterwards. Everyone has to work together to save the day. He believes in L’Manburg still.

=> Quackity talks to Tubbo, saying they should punish Ranboo, Tubbo refuses, saying he will not punish an innocent citizen and will not be pushed around by Quackity anymore. He’s going to be forgiving. Quackity says he’s going to leave L’Manburg for this though still agrees to help in the fight tomorrow. 

=> Niki, is angry and doesn’t believe Tommy. She does not want to work with him and doesn’t care about L’Manburg anymore. She’d rather watch it crumble than work with Tommy. Fundy notes that no one likes Tommy but they should band together just while they have a common goal. The next day though, he reconsiders. Why bother trying to save a nation that’s never done anything? Why bother helping others? 

=> Ranboo is frustrated saying that this whole fight is stupid and having sides caused the problems in the first place. Having a nation is the problem. He’s friends with people regardless of who they’re with. He says Dream is the enemy but is too scared to fight Dream as he’s too powerful. It’s pointless.

=> Punz says to help L’Manburg but he’s secretly a spy working with Dream to gain people’s trust.

=> Sapnap is conflicted as he doesn’t want to side against Dream. Tommy speaks to him the next day after searching the ocean for his lost fish Mars. He returns Mars to Sapnap saying he wants them to be friends and put aside all the betrayals and wars of the past. Sapnap agrees to help Tommy. Getting Sapnap to release Mars was wrong as hurting other just because you yourself was hurt is wrong, Tommy has decided. Tommy likewise forgives Tubbo for exiling him, saying it was justified and he should never have hurt Tubbo and teamed with Technoblade just because he was hurt and traumatised.

=> The war happens. Few turn up to fight. Fundy has sabotaged their supplies while Niki burns the L’Mantree. Techno starts his assault. Half a dozen Withers are released and they wreck havoc. Tommy and Tubbo fight together, helped by Sapnap, Ponk, Quackity, Punz, Jack Manifold and Eret. They are no match for Techno, Philza, Dream, a dozen withers and a huge pack of dogs. 

=> Finally Dream releases tons of TNT, obliterating the nation. Tommy screams at Techno, saying how he never really considered him a friend and this was a betrayal while Techno counters that Tommy betrayed him, seeing him as a weapon rather than a person where Techno helped him and would have fought anyone for him. Tommy calls him selfish for being unable to compromise his views even a little, that he couldn’t have just let them live in peace but had to destroy what he loved. 

=> Dream talks to Tommy too, saying that this was just fun for him, and wants to continue toying with Tommy. Tommy swears he won’t give up and Dream says he looks forward to doing this again. L’Manburg’s story is over, but theirs is not. 

=> Quackity says to trust no one; all this was too far. Tommy agrees, planning on going after Dream and the discs once more to finish things. They agree that L’Manburg is beyond repair. 

=> Ghostbur appears, he asks Phil why he did this, why he would destroy all that Ghostbur built and let his sheep, Friend, die. Phil just says he’ll understand some day. Ghostbur wants to die. Bringing back Wilbur will end his own existence he believes. 

=> Tommy and Tubbo move in together, planning to fight Dream together after all he’s done to manipulate them. 

=> Ranboo is anxious, he is hearing a voice that sounds like Dream but might just be a memory he’s trying to repress - the voice says that it was he who destroyed the community house. Ranboo goes to live with Philza and Techno, who offer him a home after destroying his house in L’Manburg, now just a crater. 

=> Jack and Niki both want to make Tommy pay. Jack plans to get close to Tubbo in order to hurt Tommy. 

=> Philza, Ranboo and Eret try to resurrect Wilbur - Tommy sees and is very conflicted as it means killing Ghostbur, who Tommy is very fond of and he’s wary of who Wilbur became. Their first attempt does not succeed but they’re going to try again.

=>Dream destroys Tommy’s house. He asks for Tommy and Tubbo to meet him. Alone. It’s about the discs.

=> Punz has been feigning loyalty to the SMP but was a spy for Dream. However, Tommy had secretly dropped off a chest of valuables in his house, realising he’s suspicious, and ask Punz to help him.

=>Tommy and Tubbo meet Dream alone on a mountain. They fight but are overwhelmed by Dream who makes Tommy choose between Tubbo and his disc. Tommy chooses Tubbo (and the disc turned out to be a fake anyway). Dream continues threatening tubbo, saying he will kill him if they don’t both comply and makes them both drop their armour and items before destroying it all.

=>Dream takes them to a secret vault he has made, containing items of attachment from everyone - it has the disc, Beckerson, Friend the sheep and spaces for more things he wants to collect, such as Sam’s dog Fran, Punz’s shulker box and Techno’s horse, Carl. He also adds the axe of Peace to the wall, which he had taken from Tommy. He then reveals he needs Tommy to be alive and get attached to things and make others get attached so he can collect those things and gain power. Dream has removed all attachments form his own life and believes taking others is the way to gain absolute control. For that he needs Tommy.

=>Dream plans to kill Tubbo and throw Tommy in an inescapable prison. There’s nothing they can do. Then Punz arrives, having heeded Tommy’s message, brining with him the cavalry as a dozen other players come with him, such as Sapnap, Eret, Jack, Niki, Sam and Quackity. They protect Tommy and Tubbo, leaving Dream in trouble.

=>Tommy goes up to Dream, makes him drop his armour as he’d done to Tommy so many times and gets Dream to reveal how he blew up the community house and his manipulative plans, even talking about his exile. Then Tommy kills Dream twice more, (taking two lives as he’d once done to Tommy) and considers killing him a final time so they’ll be free forever.

=>Dream begs him to let him go and offers the secret to bringing someone back to life - which means they could bring back Wilbur. Tommy reluctantly agrees and Sam and Sapnap take him and throw Dream in the inescapable prison.

=>Finally free, Tommy and Tubbo return home. They have the discs back ad listen to them at the bench. Wilbur talks to them - the real Wilbur from beyond the grave, apparently briefly able to communicate after their brush with death, not Ghostbur. He asks about them and they tell him how they want to bring him back. Wilbur is angry, having been content with death. They’re not quite sure what they might have done...

[This is considered the end of Season 2, the disc saga finale being the conclusion. What follows is season 3].

=> The next day, Tommy visits Dream in prison. It’s an impressive structure. Dream is rather subdued and Tommy asks him to write some novels for him. Now that he’s free from Dream, Tommy decides to start a new project for himself: building a hotel so when war breaks out and people inevitably lose their homes, they can stay at his hotel. With all the blown up buildings, the SMP needs some new central buildings, he feels.

=>Tommy asks Sam to build the hotel for him. Sam agrees but asks Tommy to pay him and also to do tasks for him. He becomes a new character, ‘Sam Nook’ like Tom Nook from animal crossing and even speaks in animalish while Tommy does various tasks for him.

=>Meanwhile, red vines have been growing throughout the SMP. They come from a mysterious red egg. They’ve actually been around for a while, but only now is Tommy, and many other characters, becoming aware of this. The egg had spread through the SMP and mind-controlled Bad and later Skeppy, but they’d managed to contain and stop it the first time. Bad got infected again, (because it had changed Skeppy and he wanted to be with him) and so he and Antfrost are now helping it spread once more. 

=>Tommy investigates the egg, and finds he seems immune to its mind-controlling effects - most people like the egg or seem to hate it but he’s so far completely neutral and isn’t too concerned with stopping it. When Tubbo goes near it, it makes him cry. When Sam becomes ensnared by the egg, Tommy and Captain Puffy work together and help save him from it. 

=> In Snowchester, Jack and Tubbo have been working on building nukes and decide to test them. Jack plans to kill Tommy by luring him to the test site, with Niki’s help. Jack and Niki’s plan nearly succeeds but they don’t get Tommy to the sit fast enough thanks to Tommy’s tendency to chatter and his distractable nature. 

=> Tommy is unaware that they tried to kill him though he does feel slightly suspicious of Niki and how close he was to dying. Niki and Jack are disappointed with their failure but try to come up with another plan to kill Tommy.

=>Jack tries to get closer to Tommy by helping him at his hotel. Tommy begins to get suspicious of Jack’s odd behaviour. Meanwhile the egg is still spreading.

=> Sam Nook orders Tommy to go and destroy it and when Tommy goes over, he can hear the egg talking. Tommy nearly starts to destroy it but changes his mind as he doesn’t want to start another big war (many love the egg) - he just wants peace. He decides to take a piece of the egg to place in his hotel, hopefully contained to try and attract egg loyalists to his hotel.

=>The hotel is finished, ready for a grand opening. Tommy decides to visit Dream in prison one last time. He wants closure as he’s healing and doesn’t want Dream in his life anymore.

=>During Tommy’s visit to the prison, TNT can be heard going off in the prison. It seems there’s a problem. It’s suspected to be an attempt to breakout Dream (though the cell is secure) and the prison is put on lockdown with Tommy still trapped inside the cell with Dream. He’s stuck! Dream is very happy about this for now he has Tommy with him.

=>Sam is unable to work out what’s wrong with the prison. Until he finds the culprit he is reluctant to let Tommy out in case it allows Dream to escape. Meanwhile, Jack hears Tommy’s trapped and is ecstatic, realising his great enemy is trapped. He claims the hotel for himself. Much of the rest of the server seems unaware that Tommy is in trouble.

=>After a week, Tommy is angry and frustrated but remains resistant to Dream’s attempts to be friendly, refusing to let himself get manipulated again. Dream beings up the revive book and how he can bring back the day, and Tommy declares it a lie. Dream punches Tommy to death, which takes his last canon life.

=>Sam is devastated. He shares the news with others. Tubbo’s in denial. Jack’s reaction is interesting - initially celebrating but then he feels angry and cheated and empty and realises he’s not sure he wanted Tommy dead. Killing Tommy was the only thing that gave him purpose and now he has nothing. He burns down Jack Manifoldland, and continues with the BigInnit Hotel, still feeling conflicted. Quackity is also shocked by the news, stunned that Tommy could die. Ranboo becomes very pessimistic, feeling like no one on the server cares even as he blames himself for not caring. He’s not sure how much Tommy cared about him but starts to realise it was more than he thought when he finds the flower he first gave to Tommy saved in a chest - Ranboo had thought he’d thrown it away and never cared. Puffy is devastated, viewing the death as a personal failure. Bad and Ant celebrate, showing how much the egg has influenced them. Eret is shocked too, he’s sad as he’d always highly respected Tommy. Even Foolish is saddened though he hadn’t known Tommy well. 

=>Tommy speaks to Wilbur in the afterlife, which seems to be a void. Time seems to flow differently there, its much slower. Wilbur still seems fond of Tommy and they keep each other company though Wilbur’s mindset remains a little worrying. He says how he and Tommy were both bad for the server and its better off without them. Tommy hates it in the afterlife, but Wilbur seems fine with it. Schlatt and Mexican Dream are also in the afterlife.

=>Dream resurrects Tommy. Tommy claims over a month has passed for him but for Dream its only been two days. H’s very disoriented. They are still both in the prison and no one else knows that Dream brought back Tommy. Tommy’s alive again but still trapped with Dream. He describes being dead as torturous and he’s sensory deprived. 

=>Dream wants to kill Tommy more to learn more about Death, to Tommy’s horror. Dream calls himself a god, cause he can control death and Tommy feels a duty to kill him for the information to resurrect someone is in Dream’s head. But Tommy can’t, for he fears he’d be trapped alone in prison and he’s unsure if Sam would let him out after he killed Dream. Tommy can’t bear to be alone even as he hates what Dream’s doing and planning.

=>Dream intends to resurrect Wilbur. Tommy begs him not to, suggesting that Wilbur would be worse for the server in some way, that bringing him back would mean doom. Dream ignores his warnings, enjoying the power he possesses.

=> Sam finally lets Tommy out of prison and he’s doing badly. He’s afraid of taking damage and feels lost, not sure how to connect with anyway as he feels like they’re treating him differently. Sam is clearly hugely regretful but Tommy no longer trusts him. In fact, he wants a new warden for the prison, not feeling like Sam is capable of it anymore. Tommy finds out about Tubbo’s marriage to Ranboo and feels jealous and left out, seeing how his friends have moved on.

=> Jack is shocked to see him alive and they get into an argument, with Jack refusing to give back the hotel. Jack tries to confront him on everything, like how he wanted to kill Tommy and Tommy does not want to have that conversation at all, hating speaking about death so they leave on bad terms, Tommy not acknowledging Jack’s anger and Jack more angry than ever. He wants Tommy gone once more. He also decides to try and become prison Warden as well

=>Tommy has made it his goal to kill Dream because he’s certain he will escape and destroy everything he loves if they do nothing. He tells Quackity about the revive book. 

=>Quackity meets Schlatt’s ghost in an underground cave, where the ghost is trapped after a cryptic message leading him there. He makes a deal with the ghost which might involve resurrection. He then goes to Sam and convinces him to let him in the prison to torture Dream. Sam agrees and every day Quackity visits the prison to torture Dream until he tells him about the secrets of revival. 

=> Tommy visits Dream’s bunker from the disc saga finale, to see if the cow he saw was actually Henry, his old pet who died, now that he know the revive book is real. He and Ranboo carefully take both and Friend out of the vault. Then as they’re leading them back Tommy pulls too hard on the leash and Henry dies for a second time. Tommy is thrown into grief once more, feeling defeated and once again clings to the idea of killing Dream. 

=> Tommy and Tubbo prepare once more. Tubbo shows Tommy how to build TNT cannons as they plan a way into prison. This is traumatic for Tommy and he is worried he’ll have a panic attack in prison, wrecking his plans so he tries out some exposure therapy, visiting some places of past trauma, including Logstedshire and a replica of Eret’s button room and an obisidian room they build to replicate the prison cell Tommy died in. Tommy find it all extremely stressful though he seems to forgive Eret after seeing his apology in the button room. The prison is hardest as he lasts no more than 30 seconds.

=>With invisibility potions prepared by Tubbo, Tommy sneaks into the prison, following Ghostbur who is visiting Dream (as part of Tommy’s plan) this goes well at first, Tommy making it all the way to Dream’s cell before he’s caught by Sam before he gets close enough to kill Dream. Sam is furious as Ghostbur is left beside Dream, in danger with Tommy helpless to do anything to save him. 

=> Dream kills Ghostbur. Wilbur is revived, appearing in the spot he died. Sam tells Tommy he will kill him if he ever goes near the prison again, accusing him of causing this. Wilbur is happy to be alive, after being trapped for 13 years in limbo. He is thankful for Dream for reviving him while Tommy is less than happy to see him alive. Wilbur goes off to plan as stories of his revival spread around the SMP. 

--------------

And that’s everything so far! This is quite Tommy-focused I realise. That’s simply the story I’m following. (Sorry about the bias though.) Other parts of the SMP are interesting and I do encourage you to check out other creators as well. Badboyhalo has quite the interesting plot arc of his own, involving a Red egg that corrupts people while Karl is doing one-shot episodes called Tales of the SMP and many other characters have been doing their own thing.

If anyone has any further questions, feel free to ask! I can probably elaborate on most things or point out the relevant streams etc.

[curligurl0896]

So getting to read @thejakeformerlyknownasprince 's FMA AU reminded me of my own ideas for a FMA/Animorphs fic. A crossover, in this case, a Megamorphs of sorts (complete with rotating narration) because I really want an excuse to have the Animorphs interact with the characters of the FMA universe. I don't have enough ideas worked out to confidently write a whole fanfic yet, so I think I'll just share some of my ideas so that at least they don't stay inside my head forever like the vast majority of ideas that I either never finish enough to post it or just never get around to at all, especially when my brain is always generating new plot bunnies instead of focusing on developing the ones I already have, it's so distracting lol

(Also maybe y'all could give some suggestions if you wanna, I'd definitely appreciate it lol)

Anyway, here it is:

First off, the answer as to how exactly the Animorphs end up in the FMA universe: I was kicking around a few ideas for this, and was originally thinking something along the lines of like, a freak accident that somehow results in them ending up in front of the Gate of Truth, but I think a better idea would be for an alchemist (or perhaps even several alchemists) to end up in the Aniverse, get Yeerkified, and the Yeerk (or Yeerks, as it may be), intrigued by the memories and knowledge of an alternate Earth where you can manipulate matter and shape it according to your will with nothing more than a well drawn chalk circle (or even less than that if you've been through the Gate, as the Yeerk(s) will eventually discover), lured in by the idea of a legendary object that supposedly can be used to circumvent a pesky little law known as Equivalent Exchange, decides to pull something of a "Tom's Yeerk and his Yeerk buddies a la book 52" deciding to start their own colony in the FMAverse where they won't have to answer to the Council of Thirteen or the Visserarchy (well, at least the ones higher ranked than the Yeerk in charge, who, I imagine, would have to be a Sub-Visser at the very least to have the power to arrange all this) in addition to being able to use alchemy, which, much like the morphing power, can be used for a massive variety of things, ranging from merely convenient to pretty damn useful in a pinch to OP as fuck to even just downright terrifying.

It takes a lot of time and meticulous planning, of course, as they have to find a way to transport the Yeerks, their ship, and all the other stuff they'll need to thrive over there through the Gate and into the FMAverse-- all while in a universe where alchemy flat out doesn't work. The Yeerks have to figure out how to get around that issue, and it takes at least a year of research and using their new hosts' alchemical knowledge to work out a solution, but they work it out, and soon enough they get everything set up and ready to go. At some point, the Chee find out about this secret unknown project going on, inform the Animorphs about it, and Jake decides that they should at least check it out on the off chance that it's something big.

That's where the story officially starts: with our team of traumatized teenage shapeshifters at the location where this thing is being set up (haven't figured out the where yet). They've spent the past several days spying on these Yeerks, but still aren't sure what exactly is going on-- they keep talking about opening a gate-- and aren't sure if it's worth it. Marco's convinced the whole thing is ridiculous, especially after overhearing a human Controller mention something about a "Philosopher's Stone" ("What is this, Harry Potter? Are they gonna wave wooden sticks around and yell in Latin?") . Rachel is bored at this point, and just wants to kick ass and call it a day-- they were probably up to no good anyway. Cassie isn't particularly keen on the asskicking part, but she's been having a bad feeling about all this that she can't shake, and Tobias agrees that something fishy is going on and says they should wait a few days-- after all, from what they've gleaned, whatever plans these Yeerks had would be set in motion very soon. Ax, being Ax, declares as usual that he'll just go along with whatever Prince Jake orders, though when Jake presses him about his opinion, he just says he isn't sure what to make of it. In the end, they keep it up for a couple more days, and sure enough, the time comes for the Yeerks to "open the gate", whatever that means.

After all the time they'd spent spying on the Yeerks, it is conveniently now, when the Yeerks are about to do their thing, that they're discovered. It quickly turns into a fight, and the Animorphs attempt to bail as they're soon overwhelmed-- and then the Gate is opened.

None of them had any idea what to expect next. They certainly weren't expecting the blue lightning that erupted around them in a massive circle, seeming to originate from the curving lines that had been so painstakingly carved into the floor. They aren't expecting the atmosphere to turn dark and purple and creepy, or for a giant grey eye to suddenly appear beneath them, or for wavy black tentacle arms to come out of that eye. And they definitely were NOT expecting to abruptly find themselves in the white void of Zerospace.

Only they aren't in Z-space, exactly. Surrounded by it, sure, but somehow they stand there, as if on solid ground, surrounded by the eerie blankness that had once nearly suffocated them to death.

Each Animorph is utterly alone, with nothing and no one else in sight. That is, until they hear a voice, one that sounds like several voices speaking in unison, and suddenly they see a figure-- or, more accurately, an outline of a figure, with only shadows to mark where the figure ended and the void began. The figure is shaped like a human in all but Ax and Tobias's case: the figure Ax sees is shaped like an Andalite, and Tobias's version takes the form of a bird.

Truth gives the whole "I am God, I am the world, and I am also you" speech, then informs them they can't pass through the Gate without payment. Suddenly, there's a huge gateway where previously there was nothing. Truth is unconcerned with the fact that these "A-ni-morphs" have zero clue what's going on-- it simply takes the required toll and sends them on their way.

Except the toll is literal body parts-- which, even then, isn't usually a big deal for an Animorph, but in this case it absolutely is a big deal, because, as they'll soon discover, there's no way they're going to just replace their lost limbs through morphing. It's expressly forbidden for one to simply have nice things in this universe; in other words, Truth isn't letting them off the hook that easily.

The discovery that they're not able to replace their lost body parts through morphing is especially horrifying to Ax, because, well, y'know... book 40. The one that every Ax fan, and really anyone who otherwise genuinely enjoys Ax's character, would like to pretend never fucking happened.

In fact, given Truth's precedent for irony when extracting payment from people who've opened/been through the Gate in the series, I have no doubt in my mind that Ax would end up suffering the exact same fate as Mertil. Andalites, after all, place high value on their tail blades, especially the warriors; it's their number one go-to weapon when shit hits the fan. Ax himself is such a warrior, in fact it's a huge part of who he is as a person. Needless to say I think yeeting Ax's tail blade would be the exact kind of twisted irony that Truth would employ.

He gets over himself eventually-- well, sort of. However, it takes him a long time to truly come to terms with it-- instead of accepting that the attitudes he'd been taught his whole life regarding those who aren't fully able-bodied are actually shit, I feel like he'd be more likely to double down on them, internalizing them, and actually go into full-on self loathing as a result.

He holds his metaphorical tongue, though, upon seeing that Tobias has suffered a payment that is arguably far more cruelly ironic-- given that Tobias is a bird, given that his initial attraction to the morph that eventually became his default body came from the sense of freedom and escapism only provided through flying, I think it's fairly obvious what Truth would take: his wings.

As for the others: Rachel has lost her arm (for basically the same reason Ed did), Cassie loses her hands (which she uses to, you know, help injured animals and stuff), and as for Jake... well, it was a bit of a struggle, the best I could come up with is the idea of him going blind much like Mustang did after being forced to open the Gate (though maybe not for the same reason, though... idk. If anyone has any better suggestions, please let me know lol, I couldn't think of any solid ideas for what body part would be ironic for Jake to lose). Marco is the only one who doesn't lose any outwardly visible body parts-- what he loses is his voice.

At some point, they are discovered, taken into custody by the Amestrian military, and eventually they end up in Colonel Mustang's office. Mustang listens to their story with a massive dose of skepticism. He isn't sure what to make of these bizarre barefoot children, nor their claims of fighting bodysnatching slugs from outer space by turning into animals, nor their wingless pet hawk, nor... well, he could only assume the other creature was some sort of chimera, although he had zero clue what animals could have possibly been used to make something with blue fur and extra eyes.

At this point, they're about to do a morphing demonstration to prove to the Colonel that they aren't completely batshit, when suddenly the door is slammed open, and a teenage boy with blond hair and sharp golden eyes comes sauntering in, accompanied by a hulking giant covered head to toe in a suit of armor.

The boy immediately starts shouting at Mustang, calling him a bastard and accusing him of wasting his time, to which Mustang responds by merely rolling his eyes and sighing, as if this sort of thing happens all the time (spoiler alert: it does). After a moment, the kid stops as he takes notice of the other kids standing in the room.

"So," he says, calmly, as if he wasn't yelling at his superior just a moment ago, "what's the deal with these fuckers?"

The casual use of the kind of language that would have surely landed them in hot water back home was quite shocking, but they don't comment on it. Instead, Rachel says, in a voice sweet as honey, "Oh, look, Marco. He's just as short as you are."

Before Marco could turn to glare daggers at her (come on, it wasn't like he could argue back in that moment), the boy goes absolutely ballistic, and the armored guy has to physically restrain him as he screams obscenities at Rachel ("The fuck did you just call me, you freakishly oversized bitch? I'll show you too-fucking-short-to-fucking-sit-at-the-fucking-table-without-a-fucking-booster-seat! Call me short one more fucking time, I fucking dare you to! You think I give a shit that you're a girl? I'll fuck that pretty face of yours right up, just you fucking wait--")

"Brother!" The armored guy cries. "Calm down!" Then, to the Animorphs: "I'm sorry about my brother's behavior. He's, um, a bit sensitive about his height."

"A bit sensitive" is the understatement of the century, but none of the Animorphs call him out on it. They're too dumbfounded by the sound of his voice, which sounds sweet, innocent, and, despite his size, sounds like it belonged to a boy no more than nine or ten years old.

And that's where I'm going to leave it for now, since I've spent way too long on this post already. I have a few other ideas, but mostly in bits and pieces, not really any more comprehensive plot points beyond this point. Please do let me know what you think!

[oh-so-scenarios]

Loose Ends | three

⇢ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ʟᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴍᴘʀᴇssɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ...ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ sᴛɪᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇᴅ.

⇢ᴄᴇᴏ! ᴋɪᴍ ɴᴀᴍᴊᴏᴏɴ x ᴀᴅᴍɪɴ ᴀssɪsᴛᴀɴᴛ! ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴇx-ғɪᴀɴᴄᴇs!ᴀᴜ, ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇsᴛᴏʟᴏᴠᴇʀs

**A/N: Yall already know the deal, there are errors! (Word count 6.03K)

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Y/N:

I have to tell her. I have to tell her. There is no way I can keep this from her forever.

I’m staring at the door that led into my roomy 3 bedroom apartment. On the other side was my 17-year-old sister. The bass of the TV was leaking through the door, letting me know that she sat in front of the living room TV.

Today was my 6th day working for Mr. Kim and since the heated discussion four days ago, he barely speaks to me. He barely lifts his gaze to acknowledge my presence and I can’t say I hate it, but I don’t like it either. 

I can’t expect anything from him. The state of things was due to my decisions and even though I am fine with handling that burden, I wasn’t prepared to see his face every day. It’s slowly taking a toll on me. It’s picking away at my resolve and leaving me with a familiar empty feeling I haven’t felt in a long time.

Luna may only be 17 but she worries about me like a mother. It’s been like that since I could remember. I can’t recall when the roles changed. When did I lose my grips of being the older sister, and when did Luna take on that role?

I lean against the wall by the door, staring blankly at the floor. It’s unfair really, how I have leaned on Luna. It’s unfair and cruel because Luna should have been leaning on me. Regret bubbles up in my stomach and travels up my body to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. 

Luna was always my mother’s favorite child. She was the one that received the most hugs, the better presents, and the compliments. As a child, it bothered me. Why was she more important than me? A mother should love her children equally! They should put the same amount of effort into each child. 

But that wasn’t the case with Luna and I. Oh no, Luna needed the extra attention and love because Luna was sick. She’d been sick since birth, but our mom did a good job of hiding it from me. The random walks they’d take together while I stayed at home with my grandmother would leave me in envy. 

But I found out as Luna got older and started to talk that they were going to doctor’s appointments. Juna was born with a weak heart. I never understood the details. Something about a tube she was supposed to have didn’t fully develop. My mother was hiding it from me because she didn’t want me to worry.

Doctors were telling my mother that it would be a miracle if she lived past 22 years old. A horrifying thing to hear from anyone. The fact that my mother didn’t crumple from the stress is unbelievable. This was after my father up and left us. My parents were never married, so when he left after Luna was born, my mother was one her own.

We moved in with our grandmother and my mom worked and worked. All she would do is work. We’d see her on weekends and that’s when she’d pour all her time into Luna. I grew to resent her. I was only 7 when Luna was born, so the present blossomed as I entered adolescence.

However, my mother passed when I was 16. A car accident took her life, leaving us to be raised by our grandmother. My mother worked like crazy, leaving money for that we used for Luna’s medical bills after she passed.

Well, as much of the bills as we could.

Luna adored Namjoon, and when things went to shit 3 years ago, she blamed herself, but what could I have done?

I took my keys out, unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment. Just as I predicted, Luna sat on the couch, her back facing me, with her laptop on her lap and the tv on as background noise.

“You’re home?” She called over her shoulder. She didn’t spare me a glance, clicking rapidly at something. 

“Yeah.” My voice came out thin, which made her clicking stop. She looks over her shoulder at me, her short brown hair pushed behind her ears. Her thin bangs were a distray, a result of her running her fingers through her hair in frustration. 

“Rough day at work?” She questions, keeping her eyes on me for a moment longer before turning back to her laptop. I take off my shoes, and approach the couch, barely peeking at her laptop screen. I take a seat on the loveseat perpendicular to her and watch as she starts to type something.

“An essay?” I assume.

“Yes ma’am.” She answers glancing up at me. Luna does school online, her grades being good enough that she convinced her school to allow her to do most of her senior year online. 

“Luna,” I call out with a heavy heart, “There is something I need to tell you.” 

Without a glance, she hums in response. She wore an oversized black hoodie with pj shorts she found on sale some time ago. She told me she bought them because of the design of avocados on it. I’m not surprised. She loves silly things like that. 

“You know that new contract I started?” 

“The long one you swore you weren’t gonna accept?” She mentions, smiling in a mischievous manner. She only did that because she was also against me doing such a contract. She knew I’d be miserable, and she was right.

“Is the CEO an asshole?” She asks but speaks again right after. “-It’s not like you haven’t handled some rude CEOs before?” 

“The CEO is Namjoon.” I forced it out, and it feels like I was running out of oxygen when I said it. My words are quick and unsteady. 

She looks at me with wide eyes, like she was waiting for me to start laughing and tell her it was a joke. 

“Seriously? The Kim Namjoon?” She questions and moves the laptop off her lap and onto the couch. She leans forward, and she doesn’t look away from me.

“Yeah. He’s the CEO.” I show her a small smile before leaning back in the loveseat. I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling.

“You need to quit.” She orders.

I chuckle, “I knew you were going to say that.” I mutter, still gazing at the white ceiling. 

“Y/n! Come on! You can’t keep working there! This isn’t good for you.” She argues. 

“You think I don’t know that Luna? Seeing his face every day is wearing me down, but I signed the contract. I can’t leave.” I informed her. 

When I picked my head up to see the worried grimace on her face, I sighed and sat up in the loveseat. It was usually comfortable, but today it’s softness was useless. I’m in an uncomfortable situation. This job is leaving me in a constant state of stress.

“It’s not too bad.” I try to lift the mood, “He barely speaks to me, so it’s nothing! He only speaks to me about work.” 

“Y/n.” Her tone is different and she drops her focus to her hands in her lap. I know what’s coming. I know what she’s going to say and I’ve heard it too many times for my liking.

“Luna, don’t even go there!” I groan, shaking my head at the sad sad look in her eyes.

“Y/n, you keep saying this but...I still feel awful! This is all my fault! If it wasn’t for me You and Namjoon would have been marr-” 

“Stop!” My voice comes out in a panic shriek, taking both of us by surprise. Luna jumps at my outburst, her eyes becoming wet with tears.

“Luna, you don’t need to bring it up again. None of this is your fault, okay?” I stand up from my seat, grabbing my bag off the coffee table, and walking around the couch she sat on, and down the hallway. But before I can go far, Luna speaks again.

“Do you still love him?” She shouts. I stop walking and stare down at the carpet. My chest tightens and I lean against the wall for strength. Do I still love him? 

“Y/n? You still love him right?” This time her voice is closer. I turn around to see her standing at the end of the hallway, her hips leaning on the back of the couch. Her eyes showed pity, while she ran her fingers through her bangs. She always does that when she’s stressed. 

We stare at each other and a moment of silence passes before she sighs.

“Y/n…” She whines, taking my silence as an answer, “You need to quit.”

“I can’t.” I answered immediately, “I can’t quit. It doesn’t matter how I feel. He hates me now. Plus, a man like Namjoon...you can never stop loving him.”

“M-maybe this is fate? It’s a second chance.” 

I laughed at her notion and could only shake my head in response. A second chance? What a joke. The sad look in her eyes only makes me want to retreat. I turn my back on her and go into my room, feeling the weight of the past few days on my shoulders. I closed the door behind me and tossed my bag to the side before falling face-first into my bed. The painful memory burned into my mind. It burned like a new fire wound. It stung and the slightest thought back to it made my eyes water. 

The heartbreak in his eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I made a choice. 

《 PAST 》

At this moment, I’d rather be swallowed up by the ground. I’d rather whatever higher power there is, strike me down and end my life at this very moment. It would be less painful. Pulling layers of band-aids from burnt skin would be less painful. At that moment my whole body went stiff. My knees locked, my muscles tensed and my lungs were struggling to take in oxygen.

Maybe it’s because I was holding my breath with my eyes wide. I stared at the man smiling up at me for the past 3 seconds. 

3 seconds. It had only been 3 seconds but it felt like an eternity. I blink, and he smiles back at me. He’s on one knee, holding out the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.

Not a huge rock, but it shines beautifully. A dazzling circular diamond, with smaller diamonds lined around the band. The silver band itself sparkled. In the ring, I could see his love, his hard work, and our years of laughter, tears and good memories.

I left out a harsh breath, my head feeling light as I was holding my breath. My awareness grows and I become aware of where we are. At a fancy restaurant in which it was rented out, making us the only customers. The kitchen staff stood at the back of the restaurant, watching me for my reaction. 

Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, the love of my life and the man I’m pretty sure the universe made for me and I for him. He stares at me with a smile, tears of nerves, and joy coating his loving eyes. It’s only been another 4 seconds. 7 seconds since I saw his lips move I say those words. 

I couldn’t hear them as I was having an out of body panic attack, but his lips moved so I’m sure he said the words.

“Y/n, will you marry me?” 

He said them and I knew he would. I saw this coming and I knew he was going to say these things...so now I know what I have to say. 

I push down the dread pulling in my system and laugh. I laugh in his face, trying my best to not see his hopeful smile drop into a look of anguish and fear. 

“Seriously Namjoon?” I cackled, trying to swallow down the tears that were burning my eyes.

“Marry you?” I hissed. He stays there on one knee, bringing down his arm that was showing me the ring. 

“I-is there something wrong?” His voice trembles and it feels like my heart is turning to ash in my chest.

“Is there something wrong!?” I raise my voice, stepping back from his crouched figure, “Namjoon, what do you have to offer? What do you have to give that makes you think you could be my husband? We just graduated college and you don’t have a cent to your name because you went and got disowned by your rich parents.” 

He gasps, shocked by my words.

“Y/n, I did that for you and for myself! You’re the one that pushed me to go against my parents plans for me. You said you’d stand by myself.” He exclaims, and stands to his feet, the tears in his eyes not the same happy tears as before. 

“As you do what Namjoon? Write poetry? Help other people put out their shitty works? I need stability. You had that when you were listening to your parents.” My voice trembled towards the end, my resolve breaking with every second. 

Namjoon narrowed his eyes at me and staggered back. It was as if his own realization left him physically drained.

“Y/n…” He pauses, staring down at the ground while tears run down his cheeks.

“Did you only get with me because of my family’s money?”

I love you. Namjoon I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I have no choice Joon, but I need to do this. 

“Of course, I did.” I choke out, “After years of friendship, I knew you had a crush on me so I took it to my advantage...but there is no reason to stay with you now.” 

He looks up from the floor and clutches the velvet box in his hands, “I don’t believe you.” 

“Believe it.” 

“Y/n,” He reaches out, holding a hand of mine in his free one, small pants leaving his lips.

“Y/n, please stop. This has to be a joke right? This is going too far!” He squeezed my hand, pleading with me. Hi eyes stayed on my face, scrutinizing my expression for any sign of a joke. He brings me closer to him, his familiar warmth and scent overpowering my senses. 

He stares down at me, in disbelief and anguish all I could see. I almost broke. I could feel my eyes burning with what was going to be tears. My dearest Namjoon gazed at me with a death grip on my hand, knowing that if he let me go, I’d fly away from him like a balloon.

“Get off of me!” I yelped, taking my hand away from his and pushing him back. 

“Y/n.” His voice broke. The sound alone triggered tears too well in my eyes. I turn my head away from his so he doesn’t see them. I grabbed my bag that sat out the dinner table and rushed out of the restaurant. My heels clicked as I got out of the restaurant and onto the street. I don’t know where I’m walking to but my legs just carry me, wanting to run away from the pain.

《 PRESENT 》

It has been a quiet day. It’s been a quiet week. Mr. Kim only speaks to me when needed, falling to having Sana deliver orders to me, making it so I only see Mr. Kim is passing. No surprise, and no hard feelings. This is probably for the best and if we can keep this up for the next 7 months and 1 week...things will run smoothly.

Mr. Kim is currently out of the office, so I sat at the desk with Sana at my side. She worked on some documents for a presentation Mr. Kim will be having. The rights of a book that will be made in a movie are up for discussion. 

While I am setting up a meeting with authors who are looking to publish with Moonchild Publishings. It was 3:37 PM, 6 PM not feeling too out of reach. The place is filled with the constant tapping of the keyboard and the humming of printers and copy machines. Everything was going as normal. 

I sat in my seat, my black & white checkered flare pants making me wonder if my curves were being shown off a bit too much. Despite Mr. Park’s wandering eyes, I was beginning to think that my outfits showed how hard I was trying.

I wore a simple black long sleeve blouse with some tan heels to bring the outfit together. I did a simple hairstyle and rushed out of the house, waking up a bit later than I usually do. The clouds were grey when I left the house, with a humidity thickness in the air. 

So when I was returning from lunch, which Sana followed me to, I felt the first softy warning drops of a storm come. By the time when I reached the top floor in the elevator, it was a full downpour. Mr. Kim hadn’t left the building. He was out of the office but was somewhere doing business.

He had certain types of meetings that though they were on his schedule, the reasonings were unknown. I don’t ask questions, I answer them so there is no point in asking him for details.

I hear the elevator bing from down the hallway and I assume it’s Mr. Kim made his way back. I don’t plan to even look up, seeing as Mr. Kim doesn’t spare us a glance when he enters, so I stopped standing up to greet him, as Sana still does. 

The coldness we show towards each other hasn’t gone unnoticed, making me think back to something Sana said back at lunch.

“You two really hate each other huh? Like old enemies or something.” She laughs it off and takes another bite of her sandwich.

I’m snapped out of my flashback just in time to hear the click of heels. Heels? That couldn’t be-

I looked up to see another familiar figure. An older Korean woman wearing a straight and non-form fitting white dress with a creme colored bag over her shoulder and nestled in between her armpit.

Her light brown hair was up in a neat bun with a sparkling brooch attached. Her light make-up and freshly done nails gave away the lifestyle she lives. She’s rich, she's well off. Her confident posture and expensive heels show that.

She holds her head high and believes she's above the people that work here. She’s also looking at me. No she’s glaring at me. 

I stare back at her and the feeling of disgust crawls it’s way up my throat. I press my lips tightly against each other, clenching my teeth to force a somewhat presentable smile. 

“Mrs. Kim.” My voice was strained, and my muscles were reeling in discomfort. 

She smiles, that same smile she gave me 3 years ago. Pity. Disgust. Superiority. It was all in her smile. It was a victory smile almost, her eyes showed anger. Anger and confusion. She probably thought she'd gotten rid of me, but here I am. Back in her perfect son’s life.

“Y/n, we meet again,” she pauses, “the unfortunate.”

Sana looks back and forth between both of us, her facial expression going from surprise to confusion and finally understanding. She rises from her seat to say hello to Mrs. Kim. I, on the other hand, do no such thing. 

I stay seated and stiffly look back down at the computer.

Sana sits down again, awkwardly clearing her throat and looking at me as if she wanted to speak. The slight trembling of my fingers gave away that I wasn’t going to speak.

“Hello, Mrs. Kim. Your son is out of the office, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.” Sana informs her. I continue to type away at the computer, trying to contain the rage that was causing a sense of anxiety over my body. 

This cursed, evil, and wicked woman. I look up from the computer screen

“That’s fine. I’ll wait in his office.” She answers Sana but keeps her eyes on me. She slowly turns around, happy that I’m watching her. I forget where I am for a moment and roll my eyes at the older woman just as the door to the office closed behind her. 

I looked over to my right and met Sana’s blank facial expression. 

“I’m not gonna ask any questions.” She says.

“Good.” I deadpan and look at the computer screen. I pretend that I don’t feel Sana’s stare linger on my profile. However, I couldn’t help the feeling of heat rising in my body. My body temperature was going up as my anger increased. I forgot how much I hated that woman. I forgot how STUPID she thought I was. Yet in the end, I was exactly what she always accused me of being. 

A lousy woman that would take money over her son. That’s exactly what I did. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my movements stopping but the trembling of my fingers continuing. 

“Y/n?” Sana called. As if a thin string of my sanity snapped, I stood up from my seat, causing Sana to flinch at the unexpected movement. My breathing becomes labored while I stare at the closed double doors of Mr. Kim’s office. 

Who was the real winner in any of this? Did I get what I wanted out of our stupid deal? Did she get what she wanted? She must have, her smug smile burned into my frontal lobe. It’ll probably hunt me in my dreams, and any random thought of it in the future will cause me anger. 

Like an embarrassing memory that makes you shiver up and regret your decisions. That’s exactly what I’m feeling. I stomped away from the desk and down the hallway, those white walls leaving me to be drowned in my thoughts. I have to find the bathroom. I know there is one in this hallway somewhere. 

I keep my eyes low, stomping quickly to seek a place I can let out my scream of frustration. 

It isn’t till I crash into something hard that my parade is stopped. The scent is familiar but not comforting, causing my stomach to drop. 

“Ms. L/n?” Mr. Kim's voice held no concern but confusion. Why was I not at my desk doing the work that was expected of me? I continued to look down, only staring at his expensive dress shoes and the carpet. 

I took a small step back, my hands balling into fists to keep from reigning my anger onto him. He didn’t deserve that. If anyone is a victim here, it’s Namjoon. I have no right to take this out on him. I also had no right to waltz into his life as I did. He knows that, though not for the same reason as Mrs. Kim and me.

“Sir, I’ll be there in a moment, you have a guest waiting for you in your office.” I take a step to the right, hoping to bypass him, but he mimics me, blocking my way again.

“Where are you going?” He questions, this time crossing his arms over his chest. I don’t have to see his face to know he’s looking down at me with his jaw clenched. In the last 3 weeks, I’ve realized he does that when he suspects I’m up to something. Or what he thinks I’m bullshitting. 

All those suspicions only being grounded in personal feelings, seeing as my work here has been nearly perfect. I picked up on his routine quickly and moved before I had to be told. His charcoal grey three-piece suit looked like a smooth fabric. Something else with a combination of silk. A sign of wealth. 

I almost chuckle to myself at the bitter aftertaste of my choices. I couldn’t even want Namjoon back. It would only play into the gold digger impression I had him believe. I mean, no one expected a small-time publishing company to explode in success in its first two years, then dominate in its third. The 25-year-old CEO became a millionaire. 

Whether it was due to any assistance from his parents, I can’t be sure but...it makes me wonder if he would have still succeeded with me at his side. If I have to lie to myself and say he needed me gone to grow like this, I’ll do it. It makes me feel better. 

I take in a deep breath and slowly look at Namjoon, my eyes moving over his suit and the dark red tie, before meeting his cold eyes. 

I mustered up a smile, while oozed with sarcasm. So unprofessional of me. But this whole work atmosphere is unprofessional. The conflicts of interest would make any businesswoman lose her shit. 

“The bathroom.” I answer, “I am allowed to use the bathroom, aren't I, sir?”

He doesn’t acknowledge the testing edge to my words but asks another question. 

“What guest did you let in my office?” The beginning of him scolding me. I could feel it. My eyes fluttered close in frustration.

“Have you forgotten the rules I laid before? Any meetings that weren’t on my schedule should be turned away. I do not pencil people in-”

“It’s your mother, sir.” My eyes open after saying, “The guest in the office is your mother. She let herself into your office, I was not going to argue with her.” 

His face relaxes from displeasure to...discomfort? He groans and runs his hands over his face before staring at the carpeted floor for a moment. 

“What is that woman doing here?” He says under his breath. I could barely catch it, but there was disgust and unhappiness dripping off the words. My brows furrowed, not expecting that. Their relationship wasn’t repaired after I left?

I bite my lip to hide the victorious smirk that threatens to appear on my lips.

“Carry on.” Mr. Kim says without a glance back at me. He walks past me, no urgency in his movements. I continued down the hallway, past the elevator, and further down till I came to the bathroom marked for women. I was lucky enough to find it empty. I stood there staring at myself in the mirror, feeling like I was having an out of body experience. 

This is what people mean when they say your decisions always come back to haunt you. 

I clear my throat and let out a scream of frustration, knowing that anyone who gets off the elevator at this moment could probably hear it up the hallway.  

  But I don’t care. I need to let this out. I scream against, this time bringing my foot up to kick an innocent stall door.  

《 PAST 》

I don’t belong here. Anyone could tell that I don’t belong here. The eyes of every person that I met held the question of, “What are you doing at a restaurant like this?” 

I was wondering the same thing. I was wondering about all types of things. Why did Mrs. Kim call me here? Why did she tell me not to tell Namjoon? Was she ready to stop forcing her and Mr. Kim senior’s dreams onto Joon and to let him do what he wants?

I bet she is still a bit shocked at Joon taking himself out of the family. He was disowned but also removed himself. The Kims weren’t expecting such action from their son. He was only 21 years old, almost 22, and fresh out of college with the Business degree they forced on him.

The world isn’t easy, so he surely wasn’t serious about throwing his family away? But he did. 

They blame me. The whole family blames me and that’s okay. I was the one encouraging to do such a thing, so I’ll carry my weight of responsibility. I, however, can’t wait to tell her that both Joon and I are doing great without their money. It’s only been a few months since he was disowned, but I haven’t seen Joon so happy in all my years of knowing him.

“I’m here to meet Mrs. Kim?” I said to the host. She nodded, looking me up and down before motioning for me to follow her. I wore a simple tee and some jeans with sneakers. I wasn’t going to dress up for this woman. With how she moves about things, I doubt we’ll be eating anything.

The restaurant was huge, seeming to have different wings and sections for people who wanted to be away from others. I try not to gawk at the luxurious decor, noticing the judgemental looks from the host who was in front of me.

The hostess brings me to a small circular table where Mrs. Kim sat waiting. Her focus was on the table cloth. She traced the small details of the white and gold table cloth, not even looking up as I took my seat. 

“Y/n.” She says sternly, putting her dark gaze on me. 

“How would you like to make a deal?” She continues. My brows furrow and I cock my head to the side. I think for a moment before laughing. 

“Is this like those dramas where you give me a check to leave Joon? Mrs. Kim...you must be joking? You didn’t really call me here for this?” I keep laughing but her stone-cold facial expression doesn’t change. 

“I just want my son back.” She hisses.

“You can have your son back Mrs. Kim. You just need to understand his--” She cuts me off, frustration appearing on her face for a split second.

“You don’t understand, do you? Namjoon is never gonna open his arms to us as he did before! I don’t know what nonsense you put into his head, but if you get out of the picture, any last strands of this riff will be gone.’

“Excuse me?” I say.

“I don’t leave loose ends Y/n. You are a loose end of this rebellious and hard patch I’ve been having with my son. Which is why I simply cannot let you stay.” She smirks, reaching for the glass of water that was sitting in front of her this whole time.

She can’t be serious! What type of entitled selfish--

“Namjoon is going to ask you to marry him.” She states after getting a sip of water. 

My breath is knocked out of me, “H-huh?”

“You heard me right,” she gives me a pointed look. As if she couldn’t believe that I didn’t see this coming. 

“He told me himself Y/n….at least during an argument he did. Seeing as there is no ring on your finger,” Her eyes flicker to my hands that sat on the table, “He hasn’t asked you yet.”

She wasn’t giving me time to move past the initial shock of Namjoon’s proposal. He’s going to ask me to marry him?

I brought a hand to my chest, trying to catch my birth. 

“Y/n, I’m sure it’ll be a lovely ceremony,” She pauses, “too bad Luna won’t be there.” 

My happy mood is lost. The surprised smile left my lips while my face twisted up in pain. 

“E-excuse me?”

“Your sister Luna,” She gives an ungenuine pout, “Poor girl is sick right? And from what I heard getting worse.” My eyes burn and blur with tears. She’s right.

Luna is getting worse and worse. They say she’ll need surgery soon because her odds aren’t looking good. Namjoon has done his best to be the supportive rock for us both. Luna already believes her time is coming to an end and I have to smile and tell her to stay hopeful, all while having the same thoughts.

She has been on the waiting list for a heart transplant for the last 2 years and we’re still nowhere near where we need to be. As if I could even afford the surgery once she gets a transplant. 

The doctor told me it’ll be another 3 years before she could get a heart donor, and in the same breath told me she wouldn’t last a year without one. Life is cruel.

Mrs. Kim isn’t phased by my tears, and through my blurred vision, I think she smiles wider. 

“Y/n,” She leans close as if she has a secret she’s been dying to tell me. Her dark eyes were now bright with mischief. 

“Reject Namjoon’s proposal. Tell him you’re done with him and turn your back on him. That’s all I need from you and I can get your sister moved up on the transplant list. I could get her ready for surgery by tomorrow if I wanted to. I’ll pay for everything.”

I leaned back in the seat, a sob ripping through my chest at her proposition. My hands fell into my lap and I looked down at them.

“I mean, you’re not going to let your precious sister die are you?” She egged on, making my sobs grow stronger, “A big sister should do everything in their power to save their siblings right?”

Namjoon’s smiling face flashed into my mind, followed by my sister’s face. She sat there weak and scared in her hospital bed with a small smile on her lips.

“At least I'll be able to see mom soon.” She said softly. 

I bring my hand up to my chest, slouching over in my seat with my hand gripping at the fabric of my shirt. It feels like my heart is tightening up. Growing tight in the grips of the reality of what’s in front of me. 

The pain was running throughout my whole being, leaving me unable to speak words. 

“So are you going to pick Namjoon or Luna? What will the choice be Y/n?”

I don’t know how long I’m sitting there crying but Mrs. Kim doesn’t stop me, watching me with judgmental eyes. It might have been the tears in my eyes but for a small second, I thought I saw some sadness in her eyes. 

I struggled to catch my breath, sniffling, and wiping the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hands.

“So what will it be?” She asks when my breathing returns to normal.

I clench my teeth, fighting off the second wave of tears that tickled my eyes. 

“I-I’ll...I’ll leave Namjoon. I’ll do it.” 

《 PRESENT》

I walk out of the bathroom, knowing I was already 5 minutes past the appropriate time someone takes to use the bathroom. I walk down the hallway, my steps quick to get back to my desk before Mr. Kim has a reason to yell at me. 

I meet an angry Mrs. Kim coming in the opposite direction. When we lay our eyes on each other, other steps slow, leaving us in a silent staring match. We stood about 4 yards from each other, the tension being so thick, I thought I could feel it around me.

“Seems like your son still hates you.” I jeer with a grin.

She snickers, taking slow strides towards me, “What? Does it make you feel like you’re a winner?” She looks me up and down with the same look of pity she gave me while I sobbed in front of her 3 years ago.

“All I know is that you weren’t able to repair that so-called relationship with your son. You should have known I had nothing to do with that.”

She stops just as she’s walking past me, her eyes forward while she stood right beside me. 

“Don’t worry Y/n...knowing that the questions of ‘What If’ that haunt you at night will always cause you to hate yourself, is all I need. In the end...only a fool would think they’ve won such a battle.”

Her words make my blood run cold, and I grow stiff as she continues to waltz away, stopping at the elevators. I stand there frozen long enough to hear the ding as the doors open, and the ding as they close.

It seems this time around, there are no winners after all. Just two losses and a casualty that is the one and only Kim Namjoon.

∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ∙ ❣

Alrightty! So the story can finally start to really get moving! I’m excited! :D

There were people who told me they wanted to be on the taglist for this but i sadly lost the list I had! 

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! I’m excited to see what you think of it and how you think things will progress. 

[resonating-kitty]

I spent the last two days writing this little.... uh... I don’t think I’d call it a gem tbh. XD 

Just some head-canon ideals that were swimming around in my head about the Dream SMP storyline and how many paths it could go down. And my hands slipped, as they have been known to do. 

I would just like to preface this by saying that I am sorry! LOL 

Final Word Count:  2,884

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Implied Reference to Suicide, and Character Death

A03 Link

Exile.  

Tommy sat on the beach, staring vacantly out over the raging ocean. Dark swirling clouds rolled over head and the wind whipped around him, chilling him but he made no move to head for cover. He was paler, skinnier. His clothes were in tatters. Dark circles were visible under his eyes. The spark that usually lit up his bright blue eyes was gone. Nothing remained.  

His exile had taken its toll and every day his isolation ate away more and more of him. He longed to see his home again. He longed to see the land he knew and loved so much. Most importantly, he missed Tubbo. 

Tubbo, who was supposed to stand by him, unwavering and loyal, and yet. Yet here he sat. Exiled and alone. 

A twig snapped somewhere behind him.  Well not completely alone. 

“Tommy” Dream’s voice was nearly drowned out by the wind but Tommy still heard him.

Tommy felt the other’s presence materialize behind him. Knew that if he turned to look, the green hoodie cladded figure would be stepping from the shadows. That infuriating white smiley mask regarding him.   

“The storm is getting closer Tommy,” Dream spoke again, closer this time. 

“I don’t care.” Tommy replied, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the raging waters. Nearly everyday since his exile, Dream had materialized to taunt him. Reminded him that he was truly alone and that he would not see his home again.   

“You do.” Dream insisted and Tommy felt the weight as the hand landed on his shoulder. “You do care. Get up Tommy.”    

Tommy doesn’t know why he obeyed, he doesn’t want to obey but he pushed himself to his feet and turned to glare weakly at Dream. 

“Don’t be like that,” Dream says and Tommy can hear the smile in his voice, the sheer amusement, “We’re friends Tommy come on.”  

Tommy lets himself be led away from the raging waves of the ocean and toward Logstedshire’s sturdy walls. Dream guided him as if he were some poor pitiful peasant. The anger that tried to ignite within him was quickly washed away. After all, as Dream had so eloquently put it days before, what was his anger going to solve? He’d been truly abandoned by his friends, left to rot in strange lands. He had no one anymore. No one except a ghost with no memories, and even Wilbur abandoned him to return to L’Manburg for days on end, and Dream, a demon who constantly taunted him and appeared in his nightmares night after night. 

Dream was the only true constant in his life. His only connection to a world he was no longer a part of. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Dream was the only thing that kept him from losing what small thread of sanity he had left.

Logstedshire was quiet when they entered, the walls blocked the wind, creating a safe haven from the nasty weather approaching. Tommy was led to the barrels and he plopped down heavily onto one. He watched, warily, as Dream meandered about, inspecting the area. He watched as the green man walked over to the signs he’d hung up. His to-do list. 

“Blaze powder.” He heard Dream mumble to himself before the green man turned to address him, “You hunting for blaze powder Tommy? Why would you need blaze powder?” 

“Oh you know, the same reason anyone else would need blaze powder, drugs obviously,” Tommy snarked, averting his gaze. Dream had been doing that too. Showing up and asking him what he had, making him throw his belongings in the dirt and making him watch as they were destroyed. Keeping him at rock bottom. Little did Dream know, Tommy succeeded with that item on his to-do list. He had gotten the blaze powder and made the enderchest. It was hidden beneath the prime log. 

“Really?” Dream didn’t seem convinced. Tommy saw where this was going before the man even spoke his next words, “Well then, you wouldn’t be opposed to emptying your inventory on the ground then would you?” 

“Why?” Tommy asked, hopping off the barrel. He’d done this dance with Dream many times before. Was so used to it that he didn’t even flinch when Dream drew his sword. 

“You know why.” Dream said, exasperated, stepping closer, “Empty your inventory Tommy or I will kill you.” 

“No you won’t” Tommy sighed. It was a bluff. He had figured that out a bit ago. Dream wouldn’t kill him because Dream wouldn’t be able to taunt him anymore if he were dead. Wouldn’t be able to make his life a living hell anymore. He’d learned this after the first time he was allowed in the Nether, with Dream trailing behind him. He’d been allowed to go to the hub that led to his home but Dream would not let him through, promising to kill him if he stepped foot inside that portal. That’s when he’d contemplated it the first time. Contemplated just throwing himself off the edge of the pathway to the awaiting lava below. Dream had appeared at his side, grabbed his arm and pulled him back, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “It’s not your time to die yet Tommy.” 

“I will,” Tommy was brought from his thoughts as Dream all but purred and stalked closer, pressing the blade of the sword right under his chin. They stood, staring at each other, as the first streak of lightning flashed overhead. 

“Just do it.” Tommy sighed. He was so tired of playing this game. He looked up, his blue eyes boring holes into the white mask that started back at him, and said, “Kill me. End it all.” 

“I didn’t know that even you could swoop this low mate,” A new voice sounded, causing Dream to immediately shove away from Tommy. Tommy stumbled back, catching himself on the barrels. He and Dream turned toward the entrance of Logstedshire, his eyes widening in shock as Dream’s frame tensed. 

Leaning against the outer wall, stood Philza. His black wings were folded tightly against his back. He held a sword loosely in hand. His blue gaze was focused intently on Dream.  

“Thought you were neutral in this Philza,” Dream remarked, hard edge to his voice now. Danger seemed to radiate from his form, turning the air around him heavy. 

“Oh I am,” Philza smiled, pushing himself from the wall. He walked into Logstedshire, glancing briefly at Tommy before focusing back on Dream, “However, torturing a child is just a bit too much for me to ignore. Even if that child is Tommy.”

“Gee thanks Philza,” Tommy mumbled, sarcastically. 

“Shush child or I will leave,” Philza warned and Tommy clicked his mouth shut. 

“You’re going to leave anyway,” Dream ordered, swirling his sword in his hand.

“Am I?” Philza smirked, flaring his wings out. A challenge. 

“Yes you are. Or else you’re going to meet your end.” Dream promised as light rain started to fall from the sky.  

“I’d like to see you try mate,” Philza tensed, readying himself. 

Lightning flashed overhead and Dream struck. Philza brought his sword up, just in time to parry the blow. Tommy watched, horrified, as the two men lunged at one another. Clashing over and over again.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Dream lunged and lunged, backing Philza back with every thrust and blow. Philza sidestepped on one of the blows, sending Dream stumbling past him and into the wall of Logstedshire. Dream quickly recovered, dodging just in time to avoid the downward swing of a sword. 

“Not bad,” Philza grinned, twirling his sword and dropping into a stance. A bit of hope sparked within Tommy as he watched Philza face off with Dream. If anyone could defeat the green bastard, it would be Philza. He had experience. Knew how to fight. Was friends with the literal Blood God himself.  

“Hm.” Tommy’s gaze slid over to Dream. He knew that Dream was pissed. The way he stood rigidly, knuckle tight grip on the hilt of the sword. Tommy figured that this might just be the first time that Dream had to face an adversary that could potentially outplay him at his own game.

The hope that had started to sprout within Tommy grew just a little bit more, until Dream started to chuckle softly. 

“Philza, Philza, Philza,” Dream started in between his bouts of chuckling, “Do you honestly think you stand a chance against me?” All at once, the whole air seemed to shift with some sort of unseen power. 

Philza frowned, his brow creasing and his eyes narrowing as if he could see something that Tommy couldn’t. His wings spread out, readying for flight. Dream dashed forward, faster than any human. Philza took to the sky just in time to avoid the attack. 

“Now Philza,” Dream growled as a crossbow materialized in his other hand, “You know flying isn’t allowed here!” He aimed and fired repeatedly, multiple bolts appearing. 

Philza twisted and turned, diving and skirting. Dodging some of the arrows while deflecting others with his sword. He flew closer to the trees, letting the branches take the brunt of the arrows. Unfortunately, he lost sight of Dream and heard, too late, the tale-tell whoosh of Dream teleporting directly behind him. 

Pain laced across his wings, causing Philza to shout out in pain. His sword clattered to the ground and he plummeted, landing heavily in a heap just feet from Tommy. 

“Philza!” Tommy screamed, horrified. Blood coated Philza’s back, feathers hanging crookedly from where they’d been cut. 

Dream landed from the tree with a heavy thud. He stalked to where Philza laid unmoving. 

“Dream. Dream don’t!” Tommy pleaded, dropping down to his knees as Dream raised the sword, readying to drive it home. “Dream! Please don’t!” 

Dream’s head snapped up, as if he’d forgotten Tommy was even there. He said nothing. Tommy watched, frozen to the spot as Dream raised the sword a bit higher, poised both his hands on the hilt.

“No!!!” Tommy screamed as lightning flashed and Dream drove the sword down, straight into Philza. Philza’s eyes snapped open and a silence scream escaped him. 

The ground shook with the force of the thunder that rumbled. Tears slipped down Tommy’s face. He gazed unseeingly at Philza’s still body. He didn’t even notice when Dream yanked his sword free and moved toward him. 

The hand that landed on his shoulder startled him, his gaze shot up to the masked man. Fear bubbled deep in his gut as Dream leaned down slightly, just enough to whisper in his ear, “Let this be a lesson. I am your only friend.” 

Dream leaves him. Completely disappearing into the shadows once again. 

Tommy crawled over to Philza’s sprawled body. Sobs racked his body as he wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face in the junction.

“Tommy,” Tommy’s head snapped up at the sound of Philza’s voice. 

“Phil! Oh gods! Oh gods! What do I need to do? Should I get a health potion?” Tommy panicked. “Wait! I think Will has some stashed around here somewhere.” he made to get up but was stopped as Philza’s hand shot out to grab his wrist.

“Won’t do any good mate” Philza wheezed, a slight smile on his face, “I don’t have much time so I need you to listen to me.” Tommy settled back down beside Philza. He was released and watched as Philza reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a crimson stone that just fit in the palm of one’s hand. The stone was glowing dully, pulsing every few seconds. 

“Do you know what this is?” Philza asked and Tommy shook his head. He truly had no idea. 

Philza chuckled, “I figured. This is a blood stone.” 

“Blood?” Tommy interrupted, “Phil don’t tell me that’s from Technoblade!” 

“Hush,” Philza sighed, “The blood stone was a gift from Techno. When my heart stops beating, it will shatter. And Techno will come. You go with him. Make him take you with him Tommy. I know you two haven’t always seen eye to eye but you need him right now. He is your only hope to escape that green demon. Promise me. Promise me you’ll do that for me, Tommy.”

“It’s Techno! He’s more liable to kill me than to help me!” Tommy argued. 

“You’re my son.” Philza stated, his breath hitching slightly, “Techno won’t harm you. Tommy, promise me.” 

Tommy regarded his father. His father who was quickly slipping from the land of the living. His eyes flicked down to the equally dying blood stone. “I promise.” He mumbled. 

“That’s my boy,” Philza smiled, eyes slipping shut. Seconds later his body fell still. In his palm, the blood stone gave one final glowing pulse before it shattered. 

The rain grew heavier, until it was pelting down in sheets, soaking everything. Tommy sat unmoving, eyes staring blankly at Philza’s body. He didn’t notice the rain or when he became soaked to the bone. He barely paid any attention to the chill that was starting to creep in, causing him to shiver slightly. 

He also didn’t notice the galloping sound of an approaching horse. Didn’t notice when the horse was stopped nor when the figure stepped into the mouth of Logstedshire. He finally noticed, starting violently, when a pair of boots appeared in his peripheral vision. 

Tommy looked up and was greeted by the sight of the Blood God. He was adorned in his royal blood red robe and the signature pig mask that he never took off. His long, pale pink hair whipped around violently in the wind and the crown that sat atop his head glittered faintly in the torch light. The heavy scent of blood lingered faintly in the air. His hand rested loosely on the hilt of his sword, tapping it periodically with long fingers. 

Silence hung between them, Techno not speaking and, for once, Tommy had nothing to say. His words had been taken from him and Tommy just hung his head when it was apparent that Techno was not going to speak. 

They stayed like that for a few more moments before Techno moved. Tommy found himself gently being lifted from the ground as if he weighed nothing at all, which he supposed he didn’t, not now anyway. He didn’t even fight it as Techno carried him over to the small shack that Wilbur had built for him and settled him under the overhang, out of the rain.  

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock when the blood red robe was settled across his shoulders and tucked against his shivering body. Warmth swaddled him and he all but melted against it. He watched Techno move across the yard. A sharp whistle sounded and moments later a demon looking horse was trotting into the space. Techno went to the creature, untying a shovel from the saddlebag.  

Wordlessly, Techno started to dig a grave. Tommy watched until exhaustion overtook him and he couldn’t stop his eyes from slipping closed. The last thing he saw before falling unconscious was Technoblade waist deep in the makeshift grave. 

--

When Tommy woke up, he was momentarily confused. He was wrapped in warmth and felt safer than he’d felt in weeks. It took only seconds for the pleasantness of the feeling to be washed away by the horror of the events of the previous evening. Tommy sat up sharply, finding himself on the makeshift bed in the shack with Techno’s robe thrown over him like a blanket. 

His heart was racing and his breath was coming in short pants. His hands buried themselves in his too long blond hair and a sob tore itself from his throat. Philza, his father, was dead. Dead by the hands of Dream. Dead because of him. Because he’d been too weak to resist Dream’s will. If he’d just jumped on that day Dream let him go to the Nether- 

That train of thought was stopped abruptly as the door to the shack was thrown open and Technoblade walked in. 

“Tears won’t make it better.” Tommy laughed humorlessly. Of all the words that Techno could’ve said, those weren’t something that Tommy expected to hear. 

“What will then?” Tommy questioned, gazing down at the robe. He felt more than saw Techno draw closer. He watched as the other reached out and pulled the cloak from his loose grasp. Tommy looked up, gaze lost as he stared at the older man, looking for some sort of answer, “What will make it better Technoblade?” 

Techno smirked and leaned down so he was eye level with Tommy before saying, simply, “Revenge.” 

It started clicking into place as Tommy sat there, staring into the pig mask’s eyes. The old flame that had been extinguished, burst back to life. The chaos within him rose to the surface. 

And Techno, as if he could see what was happening, laughed and straightened up, offering his hand out for Tommy to take. “What do you say, Child of Chaos, ready to cause some destruction?” 

A smile lit Tommy’s face for the first time in weeks. It was a cruel thing as he reached out and gripped Techno’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. 

“Let’s go kill us a Green Bastard.” 

[helaintoloki]

Of Monsters and Men

(collab piece with @obitwo !)

pairing: Dan Torrance x reader

warnings: language, nsfw content, smut, possessed Dan, some fluff sprinkled in throughout, 4k word count

notes: @obitwo and I are so excited to finally be able to share this with you all! This is my first time collaborating with another writer and it’s been such an honor to work with someone as talented as Claire! I wrote out the story/plot elements and Claire wrote out the smut sequence and together we made a piece we’re both very proud of. We sincerely hope you guys enjoy it!

summary: after narrowly escaping the clutches of the True Knot and the Overlook, Dan now has the chance to live a normal life with you at his side. But the hotel isn’t through with you just yet, and it’s up to you to satiate the hungry spirits.

It’s been exactly one month since the Overlook burned to the ground, and though the absence of Rose and the True Knot has made the world a much quieter place it definitely hasn’t rid your husband of the trials and tribulations that come with the shining. The ghosts of Dan’s past did not abate their torment despite having their home destroyed, and the task of locking them away in a box grew increasingly difficult with each new visitor. He was struggling, losing sleep, constantly worried about your safety as well as Abra’s, and despite how much you tried you weren’t sure how to help him. What could you possibly do to chase his monsters away?

It’s a tranquil evening in Frazier, leaves falling from the trees in the cool breeze outside as you get started on dinner for the night. You hope his mother’s old homemade chicken casserole recipe will be enough to provide some sense of comfort for your troubled husband. The Grady sisters had made a surprise appearance the night before and Dan was still recovering from the mental toll their visit had taken upon him; he had called in sick from work and stayed home for the day to nurse the splitting headache that had come with locking them away.

Tender kisses grace the skin of your shoulder as Dan wraps his arms around your waist and brings you into his chest. He’s exhausted, but he craves the solace your presence brings him and is willing to suffer through the ache at his temples if it means he gets to have you near. Your smile is a sight for sore eyes, and he takes pride in the fact that you are his wife.

“Feeling any better?” You muse whilst Dan presses a kiss to your cheek.

“No, but I’m not feeling any worse either so I guess that’s a good thing,” he chuckles softly. “What are you making?”

“Oh, well I know how much you loved your mom’s casserole as a kid so I thought I’d try and make it for you. Just a little something to raise your spirits a bit.”

A soft smile graces his features at your thoughtfulness, arms winding even tighter around your waist as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

“How’d a guy like me ever manage to end up with someone as wonderful as you?” He hums against your skin, prompting a cluster of butterflies to form in your stomach.

“Oh, stop,” you giggle, lightly pushing him away. “You’re distracting me, I have to make dinner. Can you hand me the measuring cup? The glass one please.”

Dan’s head begins to throb as he goes to the cupboard, yet he thinks nothing of it as he retrieves the glassware. But then the room begins to spin and your voice sounds so far away as you start to talk about your day. There’s a rumbling from the darkest corners of his mind as the boxes begin to rattle, panic settling deep in his bones as both the measuring cup and Dan go crashing onto the floor.

“Dan!” You gasp, quickly falling to your knees beside him and resting your hands upon his taut shoulders. “Danny, are you alright?!”

A whine escapes him as he shuts his eyes and grips tightly at your thighs in an attempt to ground himself, hoping to fight the spirits off long enough so he can lock the boxes up tight and throw away the key forever before the spirits have the chance to escape. But they’re coming, and he’s too weak to stop them now.

“I can’t,” Dan pants heavily, a groan tumbling past his lips as he doubles over on the ground. He can feel the ghosts suffocating him, his breaths growing shallow with each box that unlatches.

“Dan, look at me. Danny,” you plead desperately. You don’t know how to help him, you don’t know how to make it better, you don’t know how fix it, and the helplessness you feel leaves you feeling sick with worry.

“You have to... You have to run.”

“Danny...”

“Run!” He bellows, startling you into getting up off the floor and back onto your feet. Your vision is blurry with tears as you slowly begin to back away from your husband whose shoulders are heaving with every strangled grunt that leaves his lips.

“Danny,” you weep softly from your spot in the kitchen doorway. He told you to run, but how can you leave him when he’s in so much pain?

Your quiet sniffles are the only sound in the kitchen when he finally stills. Dan is bent over on his hands and knees in a way that prevents you from seeing his face, and you take a single cautious step forward.

“Dan?” You call gently. “Honey, a-are you alright?”

Your husband raises his head slowly to meet your gaze, smirking at the horrified look that flashes across your features at the sight of him.

“Hi sweetheart,” he grins, and the sight of his milky white eye is enough to send you bolting towards the bedroom.

You can hear his thundering footsteps following close behind you, all kinds of threats and warnings accompanying them, but you urge yourself to run faster. This isn’t Dan, you have to remind yourself, this isn’t Danny.

“Come here, little pup!” He coos hoarsely with false tenderness, but his demeanor changes in an instant the moment you slam the bedroom door shut and lock it from behind you. One of his fists slams on the wood while the other hand violently twists and turns the doorknob. The frustrated growl that leaves him sends chills down your spine as you slowly back away towards the far corner of the room, eyes never once leaving the door.

“Open the door, little girl,” Dan says gruffly. “Open the door and I won’t hurt you. Let me in and I’ll forget the whole god damn thing.”

“I-I can’t,” you whimper, frantically scanning the room for your phone. As guilty as it makes you feel to do so, you know you have to call Abra. She’s the only one who knows how to bring Dan back, and you can’t afford to lose him to the Overlook. You’d almost lost him once, and you’d be damned if you’d let them win this time. Another bang on the door has you in hysterics- where’s the phone?!

“Y/n, darling, light of my life, open the fucking door,” he warns lowly. One more good strike to the wood will break it down, but Dan is willing to give you one more chance to behave yourself, to be the good girl he knows you are.

“Danny, please!” you sob, and with your denial of his request he slams his whole body against the door so that it breaks off its hinges and comes crashing to the floor.

“There you are,” he leers maliciously from the doorway, shoulders hunched and hungry gaze settled upon your trembling form in the corner. He staggers forward slow and calculated like a predator stalking his prey. The tears that fall down your face make you look all the more appetizing, and the fear that radiates off of you is almost enough to feed the hungry spirits festering inside of him.

“Stay away,” you warn fruitlessly, “get away.”

“Is that any way to treat your husband?”

“You’re not my husband,” you avow emphatically in an attempt to put on a brave face despite how terrified you are. “I know what you are, and I know that you’re not really my Danny. You’re just... You’re just a false face.”

The man that stands before you ponders your profession with amusement before striking in an instant. Your wrist is grabbed swiftly in a tight grip, allowing him to raise your left hand in front of your face.

“What a pretty diamond on your finger,” he mocks before raising his own left hand. The golden wedding band on his ring finger glints in the light, his deriding gaze ticking back and forth between the jewelry. “Are these not a symbol of your undying devotion to me? Does this not mean that you are mine to have?”

You have no counterargument to give because he’s right; you had vowed to be there for Dan through sickness and in health, and this was a time of sickness. You were his wife, you had taken on the Torrance family name and promised to surpass any challenges that followed the title, so you’d just have to overcome whatever obstacle came next.

“What are you going to do to me?” You murmur, gaze nervously following the hand that slowly creeps up your chest and wraps itself around your neck. You can’t help the shivers that prickle at your spine as his hot breath fans against your skin, tongue darting out to lick an agonizingly slow stripe along the column of your throat.

“You’ve been very, very bad,” he says gruffly, “and now you’re going to take your medicine.”

Dan watches you, ultimately sinister as he rushes you towards the wall by the hand on your throat, slamming your back into it. He hungrily mouths at your neck, hands planted beside your head while his wet lips leave marks across your skin. He's eager, voice husky, breathing fervently across your shoulder. Hips jut into yours as Dan presses his hardness against you, trying to satiate himself with the sheer intensity of his movements. He growls at the contact, nothing short of animalistic.

“Are you going to hurt me?” You’re still apprehensive and afraid of what this twisted version of your lover could do, but there’s no denying the heat that rises off your cheeks and emanates from between your legs.

“Hurt you? Poor, pretty little thing, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He’s still rocking his hips against yours, friction between his jeans and your clothes. “Do as I say and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

His dark and sensual stare does little to calm your nerves and you decide to give into him for your own sake. Hands lay upon your breasts, and Dan tilts his head back in satisfaction, groping and palming them.

“Touch me,” he croons and gasps when your hand reaches between his legs to palm his concealed length. He’s enjoying you, growing more and more primal with every passing moment. The sensation goads him and he forces his thigh between your own, harshly shoving it against your growing wetness. You pant as he further presses you into the wall, trying to rub yourself on his leg.

His thumb and forefinger catch your chin to tilt it upward, urging you to look at his blue eye and the ghostly white one.

“So desperate for me… and you were just trying to lock me out,” he mocks you, withdrawing his leg and letting your feet fully touch the floor again. In his trance, it’s what he wants; to feed off of the arousal, to release himself and be taken by his own desires. You want to fight it, but your involuntary whine betrays you.

Dan brings his face to yours, masculine features clouding your view.

“Do that again,” he snarls, hand returning to your throat and clamping down on it, earning himself another heavenly moan from your lips in return. He closes his eyes at the sound, leaning back and relishing in it, completely obsessed with having you at his mercy.

“Please, Dan,” you beg him for some type of relief to which he simpers cruelly. He needs to hear no more, bending down and wrapping his arms underneath you to toss you over his shoulder. Your arms dangle upside down, and you don’t bother to squirm. He walks purposefully towards the bed, hands gripping onto your ass before he lets you off, crashing on the mattress.

You huff at the drop, clearly appreciative of the manhandling. Dan is kneeling at the edge of the bed, yanking you towards him by your ankles and holding them firmly, his lips inches from your aching core.

All Dan is focused on is pleasure and power as he rips your clothes from your trembling body, careless of any tears he might have made. He sighs when he looks at you in your panties, a sight he usually compliments - but not now, he’s greedy, teeth grazing your hip to bite down on the fabric and pull it down your legs with the movement of his head. You feel yourself melting at the action, trying not to like this Dan too much - it’s not truly him, but the way he’s looking at you like he’s starving is entirely captivating, clouding you from your common sense.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he advances his mouth closer, then letting his gaze follow the curve of your thighs, spreading them neatly for his tongue and admiring them. He adorns them with harsh kisses, sucking to leave bruises on them, pleased with himself for marking you as his. His trail leads up to your wetness and he swipes a finger up your folds, gathering some of it and pressing it to his tongue. He likes the taste.

“Filthy girl.”

It’s then that his arms hook under your thighs to lock them over his shoulders. You’re unable to move, caught in him, and he knows that he’s going to torture you.

A slow lick up your clit sends you trembling at which Dan groans, vibrations coursing through your body. He’s deliberately tentative, providing unhurried laps at your clit, waiting for you to break. After several tormenting moments, Dan is kind enough to give you a full circle of his tongue, and you writhe under his clutch, legs begging for freedom and hips rising against his face. It’s enough for him.

“Sit. Still.” He’s ordering you now, and you know better than to be a brat and do it intentionally.

His stubble meets your soft skin in a rush, his tongue swiping madly at your clit and you’re back to trembling pathetically. He’s fulfilled with your response, his sexual prowess sending moans from your throat that fill the room with urgency. An arm releases one of your legs to let a finger prod at your entrance, under the tongue that flits across you. It dips in teasingly, merely deep as his first knuckle and you take the opportunity to squeeze his head with your free leg.

At your sudden defiance by not sitting still, he reaches up to run a palm across your naked breast which makes you falter. His hand stays there, massaging as he continues to eat you out with exhilarating competence.

“Dan…” You choke, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging it to release the rising tension of your body. He snaps at the pulling, evidently stimulated by it. Making no mistake, he consciously groans into you again, except it’s primal and electrifying, making you yelp.

“Good… Keep making those pretty noises or I won’t be so generous,” Dan nearly barks at you, mean, his voice hoarse and drunk on his urges. Finally letting his finger slide all the way in, he withdraws it at the same speed, pumping it and drowning in the sounds that you make for him.

The tension continues to rise, your body shaking violently. Dan knows what he’s doing; just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. You know he’s saving it.

“More,” you whisper boldly, weak from his delightful touch.

“Do you deserve more?” He moves his face away, but adds a finger to the first one, roughly thrusting them both in and out of you and biting his lip. He sneers, “I’ll decide what you get.”

You pause simply to keep shuddering, unable to speak with the sensation of his fingers hitting the right spot. He stops and leaves you a blubbering mess of moans and whimpers, leading Dan to decide on your next sentence for locking him out.

He rises, looming over you supported by his hands, hair falling handsomely. Your own hair is gathered from beneath you into a ponytail and yanked down to give him plenty of access to your neck, biting down softly into the juncture of it and your shoulder. Your legs instinctively wrap around him, trying to keep him touching you.

“So impatient.” His lips graze your ear and he nips at the lobe. “Get over my knee.” Dan disembarks from you, sitting tall and spreading his knees apart on the edge of the mattress, feet set firmly on the floor.

You mistakenly hesitate for a moment and find a rough hand pulling your hair again, and an expression on his face that warns you I won’t ask again.

Pitifully crawling over, you splay your body over his knees, your stomach against one of his thighs and your ass right where he can hurt it.

Dan briefly lounges with you on his lap, his weight leaned back onto his palms, admiring the beauty before him. His hand travels up the back of your thighs, crossing up to your waist, dipping under to feel up your chest. He smirks wickedly, raising his hand up into the air and sending it crashing down to give a sharp and loud slap to your ass.

A high moan leaves your throat and he repeats the action, faster than the first time, little pieces of hair slipping into his face from the power he’s exerting. You feel it deep within you, the painful but delicious sensations of his calloused hands roughing you up, slapping you hard as all hell.

“Don’t you go locking me out again, pup. You got that?”

“Mhmm!” You groan frantically, waiting to feel his red-hot palms strike you again. They don’t.

He instead reaches under to grab your windpipe, lazily turning you over and getting you to straddle him.

“Words.” He has no tolerance left.

“I got it.” You blurt out quickly as you can, not trusting yourself to carry a sentence any longer than that.

Dan guides your hips to grind you against his hard length, back and forth. Your head tilts with the movements, idly lolling. Another quiet noise and Dan can’t take it anymore. He’s finishes with his teasing of you; he needs to unleash.

He assumes his full, intrinsic and feral state, pushing you back onto the bed, and you rebound with force. He keeps you down, wrists pinned above your head and his lips are searching your entire body, biting, sucking, bruising - hungry for anything he can get. You don’t dare move, knowing he wants your full compliance.

His jeans are long gone, underwear too, forgotten somewhere on the floor. His skin feels smooth but hot against you, a gorgeous and soft feeling when his chest collides with yours. Strong arms are positioned on either side of your body, Dan lining himself up with your entrance. Your raising hips cause him to prod, whining as the head of his cock teases you.

“Does my dirty girl want my cock?” He gives a low groan to your ear and you’re losing yourself in him. The word “yes” is hardly loud enough, an inaudible whisper.

This time he doesn’t care for precision to your obedience. He doesn’t ask for a clearer answer, content with your submission to him.

He steadily presses himself into you the rest of the way, guttural moans seeping through his mouth that latches on to yours. Your thighs squeeze him closer and he stays a moment, fully immersed and gasping.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” The words almost can’t make it out of him and he leisurely pulls back, re-entering you with full, lusty force. You cry out his name and he basks in it, pumping himself faster, reaching so deep inside you that you can feel it reaching your stomach, your body quivering with the stimulation.

“Oh… Dan!” Tears are forming in the corners of your eyes with the sheer strength of him, and a thumb reaches to rub tight circles on your clit that still glistens with the wetness of his tongue. His mouth is agape, bottom lip curling onto his teeth from the pure effort he’s giving, and effort is about the only thing he’s giving. Otherwise, all he knows is to take.

Your jaw is swiftly and skillfully pried open, and Dan, possessed and sickeningly tempting, spits into your mouth, no regard left in him. It’s something he’s never done, especially not when he’s your proper Dan, and you like it. You swallow firmly and draw him in.

His head falls into your shoulder, biting it at the pleasure you’re giving him. You sigh, spent, and he bites again. He doesn’t flounder, maintaining steady and thrilling strokes that make your body stiffen and shake. Dan’s hankering grows and he plunges in a last time, reveling inside you before flipping you onto your elbows and knees and taking you immediately back onto his cock. His hands grace the curve of your hips to push and pull you over his length, and he yells out in his rapture.

His fingers trail up your back to wrap around the back of your neck, bringing your back flush to his chest, ruining you from behind. You sit atop his thighs as he stretches you out so good and not a single coherent thought passes through your mind. Thin sheets of sweat are the only thing between you.

His repeated hitting into the right spot has you wailing, your hands covering his own as he’s surely sending you over. Tingles sweep through your limbs and you come undone around him, clenching him harder and getting his cock all the more wet, trying to fall forward onto the bed and catch your breath. You’re given no such freedom, and he continues pounding into you, whispering dirty things into your ears as your orgasm is drawn out impossibly long.

“Nasty thing, you’re gonna make me cum.”

And so he does, warm inside you and it starts to leak out with his last excessive thrusts. He keeps you to his chest, panting, but his grip loosens ever so slightly.

A dull blissfulness clouds your senses and hazes your surroundings, eyes fluttering shut in an attempt to savor the warmth you’ve been encompassed in. The experience was new and terrifying, but it had satiated a craving deep within you that you hadn’t even been aware of in the first place. From behind you, Dan pulls out of you with a deep groan and allows his head to fall against your shoulder.

“Danny?” You call hesitantly, unsure as to which Dan you’re speaking to. It’s silent for what feels like a long time before he speaks again.

“Y/n?”

“Oh, honey,” you sigh in relief before shifting in bed to face him. He looks absolutely spent, but the white film over his eye is gone and with it the spirits of the Overlook.

“What happened?” Dan asks tiredly, eyes widening at the various marks that little your body. “D-Did I do that?”

“Technically, yes. But um, you had a little help,” you explain meekly. “They came back.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he’s quick to apologize, the hands that had just choked and spanked you not too long ago now coming to rub soothing circles into your bruises. A content sigh leaves your lips at the feeling.

“Don’t apologize. I umm.. I was able to handle it.”

“Did... Did you like it?”

“Honestly? Yeah,” you nod with a sheepish smile. “You were terrifying, but you were also really, really good. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“I’m happy to hear that?” Dan says questioningly, prompting both of you to laugh. He smiles then, adoringly and full of love. “Oh, my brave, sweet girl.”

“I love you,” you sigh happily, taking his face in your hands and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “In sickness and in health.”

“In sickness and in health,” he repeats with a gentle smile, wrapping his arms around your waist before pulling you into another passionate kiss.

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Weak ~ S.R. (part 2)

A/n: A good song for this part is “Grow As We Go” by Ben Platt. Even though I wrote this inspired by “Weak” by AJR, I feel this song works a lot better :) Side note: for some reason I changed POV halfway through but for only one part? And I didn’t want to miss something so I just left it. Just... ignore that lol.

Word Count: 7000+

MASTERLIST

They call me after dark, I don't want no part. My habits, they hold me like a grudge- I promise I won't budge.

"Hey JJ," Y/n greeted as she braced herself in front of the office she now stood in front of.

"Hey." JJ's voice had become quite familiar in their time talking. Prentiss had also given her number, but they didn't talk as much. JJ, Y/n and Penelope had a group chat though and the three of them talked loads. "I heard you start your new job today. You excited?"

Y/n tried not to think about it. The first time she'd walked into the police station she usually worked at she'd had a panic attack, and even when it had gotten better she still couldn't find comfort there anymore. Everyone understood and they'd given her basically worker's comp as she searched for a new job. They'd even helped her out. But it hadn't worked and she couldn't find any other real work there, so she was back in DC. The place wasn't tainted anymore, but Y/n did miss the small town feel. The real problem was that Y/n hadn't told anyone that she had moved back. She'd just told them she'd gotten a job at the diner.

"Very," Y/n lied. "I have to start in a few minutes actually. Mind if I call you tonight?"

"Oh of course," JJ assured. "I thought you started later."

Y/n chuckled. The woman had become a sort of comfort for her. "I appreciate the check up call," she said. "I'll tell you how it went later." JJ agreed and they ended the call and Y/n walked inside. It was as far from Y/n's dream as she could get. Well, maybe now as far from, but it was just a printing store. You came here to get your pictures printed from a  camera, or you faxed them and they printed here. Posters. Invitations. Anything. Y/n wore a polo shirt and khakis. She was going nothing great for this world, but at least she could pay rent.

The day was long and boring. Y/n was glad to be home, but not excited to call JJ about it. She hated lying and this one might require her to do it. She could just tell JJ she was back in town and working literally BLOCKS from everyone else but... then they might ask to hang out and that would bring her around to see Spencer again and that was what she REALLY wanted but also what she even more needed not to happen.

"Hey Y/n!" JJ greeted. "I'm so glad to hear from you."

"Just get off of work?" Y/n asked.

"Just gave Hotch a new case," JJ corrected, sighing. "It's going to be a rough one." She paused. "I kind of wish you were here. We could get coffee while they get ready." She chuckled.

It kind of came out when she said that. "I actually am." A long pause. "I- I couldn't find a job. I lived here before I moved away, so I moved back. Uh. I could meet you somewhere?"

"Sure," JJ said slowly, processing what Y/n had just said.

Y/n planted her face in her hand. "I'll explain over coffee, okay?" JJ agreed and they hung up. Y/n headed out, meeting her at the nearest coffee shop they'd both agreed on. When the two women saw each other, their smiles grew. They hugged and then they parted, went inside, ordered, and got a close by place that would let them talk without possibly missing their order. JJ didn't have a lot of time before they all left. "Did you tell anyone I'm back?"

JJ pursed her lips. "I got the feeling you didn't want anyone to know."

Y/n sighed, covering her face. "I adore you guys, it's nothing like that. I just-" she laughed nervously, feeling her emotions rising. "Did you know that when I was a kid, I wanted to be a cop?" She laughed, looking anywhere but JJ. "I can't even handle one run in with a bad guy, let alone hundreds. Thousands. I'm not-" Y/n cut off. She was about to say 'worthy'. Something she screamed at herself all the time. But she couldn't say that to JJ- that would lead to her finding out about five and a half years ago. "Strong enough." That would work. "And because of that, I quit a job I really loved. Not even that- I just couldn't work there anymore. Quit and fired leave the idea that anyone wanted me to leave." She scoffed at herself. "And now I'm at Shutterfly printing pictures and talking to practically no one ever, standing around and waiting for someone to ask for a picture or a poster or something. I'm-" she huffed.

JJ reached across the table, hand resting against Y/n's arm. "You are not weak." Her words were so firm and sure that Y/n had a hard time finding something to argue. What had she been so sure of a moment ago? "You were kidnapped by a psychopath, Y/n. You were almost killed. That's horrible. Even we struggle with it for a very long time when it happens to us. The only difference is that we're conditioned to it every day of our lives. The fact that it bothers you is a good sign. We're... numb to it. It's really bad actually." She flinches, sighing. "You SHOULD be upset by it."

Taking a breath to stabilize herself, Y/n nodded. "I just... feel pathetic. And I don't want them to see me like this." She stared at the table, tracing her finger along the design. If she was being honest, it was really that she didn't want Reid to see her like this. After all, she'd told JJ just fine. But she wasn't being honest. When she looked up and met JJ's gaze, though, it was clear she didn't have to be. I guess that's what you get when you talk to a professional profiler.

"Okay." Their orders were called and they got them, heading out. "If I can do anything for you, Y/n, you have my number." Y/n nodded, but didn't say anything more. JJ had an odd look in her eyes that made Y/n nervous. "I promise I won't tell him." Neither had to clarify who she was talking. "Promise, okay?" Y/n nodded again and they hugged before JJ headed off to kick some bad guy ass.

Y/n felt terrible watching her go.

- First Person POV -

"You did what?"

"I got you a job here!" She repeated, sounded ecstatic. I felt horrified, and after my tone she continued at a very quick pace, as if to explain herself. "I figure you can get some second hand experience and see if you really are into this sort of thing. I know a lot of people like the idea, but sometimes when they get into this line of work they learn pretty quickly it's not for them. And that's okay. I just- I mean, it's just like your last job. You'll be an assistant; helping with paperwork, keeping this moving and organized and helping everyone go home sooner. We could use another set of eyes watching our backs- Hotch and I try our best, but there's just too many of them, you know?" It was an attempt at a joke, but when I didn't laugh she continued talking. "Plus, working here gives you great insurance. You could put yourself through schooling, for whatever kind of job you find you like most here. You might like to be a technical analysis instead of a field agent, or you might prefer something like my job that allows you limited field or... whatever." JJ had never sounded nervous before, but Y/n hadn't had too much experience in seeing her nervous in a personal situation, rather than seeing her face press or having to keep everything together under pressure. It was kind of endearing. "I thought it would be nice to know what you're getting into before you do it. And..." She hesitated. "We miss you. I haven't told anyone like you asked, but Garcia is dying to meet you and everyone always talk about how much we wish you were around to lighten up the mood like last time we worked with you.” JJ sighed. "Honestly, Garcia tries her best but keeping things light around here is hard, and it's taking a huge toll on her. It would be so helpful if she had someone to bounce off of."

Y/n found herself smiling. If she could really make a difference... I mean, if the job wiped out all of those who did it, who would do the job, right? Someone had to watch the backs of those too busy watching the backs of others.

She would be working Spencer constantly, but she tried not to think about that. She'd barely survived two weeks- how would she manage sharing a career with him? But, how could she turn him down? Wasn't the whole point of pulling herself together and becoming a better person and getting her old habits bated so that Spencer Reid didn't control her life anymore? This was the opportunity she'd been waiting for her whole life. She had no real excuses- she just couldn't let him hold her back from living her life, especially when he wanted to do anything but. She'd almost allowed her awkwardness with him deprive her of really good friends, which would have left her far from where she was now with this job offer. She needed to take charge and get the fuck over herself.

"You know what JJ, I would absolutely love that."

An audible sigh of relief sounded on the other side of the receiver and Y/n chuckled. "I'm so glad to hear that. I... did talk to Hotch because he's the one who hired you, so I may have fibbed a little about not telling ANYONE else- but he's good at keeping secrets, and everyone else will be shocked when you start. Should I brace them or do you want to break that news in person?"

Y/n couldn't help it- she smirked. "How could I turn down such a dramatic entrance?"

"I thought you would say that." Just from the sound of JJ's voice, Y/n could tell both of them had matching curves to their lips. It was that which made Y/n feel so sure that this would be a great thing for her. It wouldn't even be a big deal, beside maybe the initial shock of it all. She just had to not over think it.

-

Walking into a precinct full of people who were trained to pick apart every person they run across until they get into their head and saw their bare soul hadn't been a thought that crossed Y/n's mind until she walked into the room after JJ's rather dramatic and mysterious introduction. All eyes turned to Y/n and she almost died right then and there because the confusion burning in their gazes demanded to be satiated, and it seemed they were trying to answer the questions themselves rather than just asking. Their gaze bore into her, making her uncomfortable and awkward.

"Guys," JJ reminded.

Morgan blinked first. He grinned, standing up and approaching Y/n. "Oh my gosh! I-" he cut off, his arms twitching. "Are you good with hugs?" Y/n nodded wordlessly. When was the last time she'd been hugged? By... Maya. Oh god let's not think about that. Morgan wrapped his arms around her and she let his warmth distract her from dark thoughts. He gave great hugs- it was easy. She'd missed that feeling, goodness.

Prentiss was next. "Okay so I need an explanation here." She was smiling though, and her tone was as light as her hand as she rested it on Y/n's shoulders. She liked how touchy the team was. It was only in that moment that Y/n realized she was hungering for physical touch.

Pushing those thoughts down, Y/n tried to aim a little better for normal. "I kind of lost my last job because every time I went into the... Well, being back there made me kind of..." she motioned with her hands, trying to explain. Her face went red. "It's hard to return to the place you were kidnapped from." She cleared her throat, but there was no judgement from the people around her, just understanding. That made her feel worse. "Well, it turns out that small towns aren't as much my thing when the only other jobs are really menial, so I moved back to Virginia. I lived here my whole life before moving out there." She shrugged. "I was looking for real work and mentioned it to JJ one day since we talk a lot. And she'd amazing, so here I am." Again everyone nodded, but this time they had smiles on their faces and JJ beamed with pride.

"Well," Rossi began, but he was cut off by someone.

"Everyone out of my way!" The crowd beginning to form around me parted for a pretty blonde girl who was... very loud. Not just like voice wise, but with what she wore as well. It made my heart more full. It was almost a relief compared to all the neutral grey and black and the occasional blue or something. "I am Penelope Garcia, and we're going to be spending a lot of time together so I thought I thought I should ask now, how are with sexual humor and platonic flirting because this is like super essential to my personality."

Y/n giggled and everyone seemed to perk up, especially Garcia. "I'm kind of awkward," Y/n admitted. "But you can do whatever you want. As long as you keep that pretty smile on your face."

Everyone's jaw dropped, and Y/n and Garcia both turned red. Y/n blushed because despite what she'd just said she really was awkward. Garcia blushed because after what Y/n had said, she hadn't expected to be flirted with, neither had she been flirted with by such a cute, innocent person. She was used to Derek who was unapologetically sexy. "Oh," the blonde noticed. "We're going to be GREAT friends."

"I really hope so," Y/n gushed sincerely. Everyone seemed to be cheery already, smiles all around.

Then Y/n saw Spencer. He approached slowly, seeming shy as he gently maneuvered through people to get to Y/n. "Hi," he greeted softly upon finally reaching a comfortable distance.

It was suddenly pin drop silent, and the lack of chatter seemed so heavy that Y/n winced, feeling her chest rage against it. "Hello." Y/n cleared her throat, hoping her burning face could be excused by her interaction with Garcia, where it had started. "So. Anything major happening today?"

JJ saw the cry of help and answered the call instantly. "We have a new case."

"Thank god," Spencer whispered, ducking his head and moving away from Y/n. She didn't think he'd meant for her to hear it, and the words hadn't seemed to hurt anyone else, so she let them roll off of her shoulders. He had seemed pretty happy to see her, if a little awkward. It was probably weird to see her so social when she was so stiff with him was all. And after how heavy the air had been, she was relieved to get away from it herself.

Was this going to be how it always was between them?

Goodness she hoped not.

One sip, bad for me; one hit, bad for me; one kiss, bad for me, but I give in so easily. And no thank you is how it should've gone. I should stay strong, but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that?

- third person POV -

"Hey, G," Y/n greeted brightly, two cups of coffee in her hands. It had been a few days on her first case, and already she understood what JJ had meant by Garcia struggling to keep the mood light. The woman hated to frown, let alone be serious, and unfortunately for her the rest of the team was pretty stoic. Thankfully she could bounce off of Morgan, but now that she had Y/n who was as equally positive - if not as high energy - the two women had come up with lots of things to keep each other in good shape. Like dorky nicknames only they used, and being around each other a lot, and sharing food and drink suggestions. Y/n was usually the one to get them since her job made her feel rather useless since she didn't do much to make a difference, but she could reason to herself that keeping Garcia caffeinated was the best thing she could do for the team other than be out there with them directly.

"Hey, Lovergirl," Garcia piped cheerily. Y/n chuckled at the nickname. Ever since her flirting, they'd been nonstop back and forth in a much more innocent way than Garcia was with Morgan. The man and Y/n had jokingly fought over Garcia, but then she had made a joke about how she had two hands and it had ended there. The sort of pure back and forth had let Garcia giving her more innocent nicknames, like Sweetheart and Lovergirl, rather than Chocolate Thunder over there. Someone had asked if they were dating and they'd both fist bumped after having a laughing fit over it. Somewhere along the way Garcia had mumbled, 'Lovergirl wishes' and it had been making Y/n smile ever since. She'd never had a friend like this before and she was basking in it.

Unfortunately, the rest of the team wasn't having as good of a time.

"It's so good to hear your voice." It was Morgan, making Y/n smile even wider.

"Not as good as it is to hear yours," Y/n replied calmly. "How you doing, Batman?"

The smile was obvious in his voice. "Much better now that you're here." Y/n giggled then settled in next to Garcia. They got to business after that. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing you want to know," Garcia sighed. She tried to keep her tone casual but Y/n could tell she also didn't want to talk about it.

"Fair enough. Anything I can do to help the most beautiful woman in the world?" She asked instead. "Give me literally anything, otherwise I have to leave your amazing presence and then where would I be?"

Garcia was grinning again. Y/n felt proud. "There's actually a lot of that footage still left. I got distracted by what you gave me last time. Want to see if you can get anything else?" Y/n nodded, getting to work.

It took a few hours until she found something, but when she did, her heart stopped. She snagged her phone, dialing Reid immediately. He answered on the second ring. "Y/n?" He seemed surprised, but his tone pitched up like he was happy about it too.

Y/n was too preoccupied to think about it. "What the likelihood of winning gambles at chance games?"

"Well what kind of chance gamble? The odds of winning the Lottery are approximately one in fourteen-million, where a person has a one in three million chance of sighting a UFO. Funnily enough, that's almost five times more likely than winning the jackpot. You are more likely to die of a flesh eating disease at one in a million than winning the lottery."

"Spencer?" Y/n smiled to herself, not being able to stop him. He was adorable. She pushed that to the back of her mind, shaking her head to refocus as well as wipe the smile off of her face. "How often do people have a so called winning streak in gambling? Like in casinos." He paused and Y/n's eyebrows together. "Spencer?" And then she realized her mistakes and her eyes widened. "I- uh- Dr. Reid."

He sucked in air before responding in a rasping voice, "Some scientists  actually believe that luck streaks are real, continued by the fact that people just choose safer odds and then keep on that streak every time they... anyway, the point it, based on how smart you are, you could keep winning constantly."

A thought caught in Y/n's mind. "Have you ever lost a gamble?"

His answer was immediate and clueless. "I haven't, no. Why do you ask?"

Y/n tried not to laugh and managed a soft chuckle. "No reason. Uh-" She shook her head again. God, why couldn't she focus?! "I was looking through more of that footage we got where we saw the masked unsub walking in the shadows and looking for someone to kill. Well I was looking through the extra footage the casino gave us- remember the bonus hours they said nothing happened on, but they gave it to us just to give us more hours? To be annoying, because they were mad or whatever?" Spencer hummed. "Well, a man matching the masked attacker's height, weight, and wearing the same suit shows up the next day gambling. For nearly the entire day, and then he goes home with far more money than he came with and he hasn't lost a single game." Y/n paused, biting her lip. "Not even once the whole day."

Garcia's interest has peaked at this point. She's rolls her chair over, eyes scanning the moment Y/n's paused on on the screen. The footage is from an old camera, so Y/n doesn't even know if they can make out his face. But there he is. Facing the camera and everything. "He wore the same suit," she whispers, horrified.

"Do you think he's killing to increase his luck?" Spencer asked hurriedly.

"No," Y/n answered immediately. Only then did she realized he'd asked Garcia, but the blonde was looking at her to explain her answer so she shot off. "The day before, he was agitated. Today, he's calm. Not confident, but completely at peace. It's not like that one case you talked about where a guy went around killing people because he thought it brought him luck. I looked back on feed for that and he was reckless- almost drunk, high on confidence. This man... it's like he got a good night's rest."

Spencer paused. "How do you know about that case?"

"Oh well JJ made a comment about how this one was similar to that one so I got the file and looked into it. We have the footage and everything on file." She shrugged, then saw Garcia's look of shock. "Should... I have not done that?"

"No you're fine," Garcia voiced. "That's just really impressive catch up playing."

Y/n blushed. "I'm just doing my job." She cleared her throat. "I could be wrong, I just wanted your opinion-" she cut off, catching herself for a second. "Reid."

She could feel him nod, rather than see it since they were over the phone. "Thanks Y/n. I'll tell the others."

"Anything for you, Wonderboy," Y/n teased. The line went dead. She felt her stomach twist. She was trying to treat him like she did everyone else, but every flirt hit different when it was directed at him. Even such easily dismissed ones such as the one she'd just delivered. She could feel Garcia's eyes locked on her so Y/n busied herself with her drink until the blonde had to get back to work, boarding on already wasting time they didn't have.

For now, she had escaped questions but every day it got harder as people seem to take everything she said and looked into it so see the truth where she tried to hide it.

God help her.

-

Y/n slipped into the elevator. This case hadn't gone very well, ending with gun shots ringing through Garcia's phone and a long silence of unknowing whether it was for the unsub or for their friends. Turns out, it was a little of both. One for the unsub, one for none other than Dr. Spencer Reid himself. He'd lost a lot of blood before anything could be done and now he was in the hospital and the entire team had had to pry Y/n out of that room and to her house so she could get cleaned up a little after having gone straight from hours in the office, stressing about work, straight to hovering over his bed waiting for him to wake up for just as long.

Now she entered the room again, nodding to a waiting Prentiss. "They told me to come send you outside next." Hotch had been getting them home one by one, as each of the team had been as worried as Y/n. "JJ and Hotch have kids and Morgan's on Garcia duty to make sure she gets some food and rest. Have you eaten yet?" Prentiss stood, shaking her head. "I've got this, and Rossi said he might drop by to keep me company if he can't get to sleep. Please."

"Thank you," Prentiss whispered as she passed Y/n on her way out. There were frown lines on the edges of her eyes and a strain to her smile. "Don't stay too long. Sleeping here can't be good for your back." It was a weak joke- everyone knew the other girl wouldn't leave this room again until he was awake. And he would wake up. Prentiss caught Y/n's hand. "Hey, you know it wasn't your fault right?"

Y/n flinched. She had been the one to give Reid the information about the unsub. Morgan had been a little skeptical of her idea since she wasn't a profiler, and it had put an edge on everyone else too, even Hotch who was obviously trying not to be partial. The truth was though, Derek was more experienced than Y/n was. He was more familiar with the team and had their trust a lot more. They had said something about Reid being partial, but Garcia and JJ had been pretty convinced too. That didn't help Reid when he went the extra mile to prove to everyone Y/n was right though. That he trusted her for a real reason. That there was merit to her words and observations. It didn't help him when he went a different direction than the others because he had a gut feeling and Hotch encouraged him too. It didn't even help when he'd taken JJ with him, since she was the only other person who believed Y/n as much as Spencer did.

It didn't help him when he got shot on Y/n's hunch. Got shot with her on the phone, waiting on baited breath just to hear JJ freaking out on the other end.

It didn't help him now either, as he lay in a hospital bed.

Y/n looked away. "Yeah."

"I'm serious," Prentiss insisted. "At the time, it was fair for us to doubt you. We-" she cut off, choosing better words. "We shouldn't have, because you did your work like the rest of us. But you are new and untrained, so it was fair to have pause at first. But Reid, JJ, and Garcia all backed you up and we should have been there for that. We could all play the blame game. If we’d just listened to Reid and JJ. If we’d believed Garcia. If we had been more open minded about you... But that’s isn’t fair. It's no one's fault but the unsub's."

That was another thing. The man who had put Reid in the hospital was still out there, already all better and heading out to jail. His eyes were open and there had been a smile on his face when he was getting toted off. JJ had told Y/n while she was in shock. He was fine and Reid was in the hospital and Y/n sat there hating the whole thing. "Yeah," she repeated, because she didn't have the energy to fight herself on how she felt versus what she knew to be real.

Prentiss seemed to see that struggle and recognized that she couldn't get through to Y/n anymore than she already had. So she left and Y/n was there alone. She took back her old spot, where she'd been until a few hours ago. Where Prentiss had been sitting before she came back. Now she sat back down again and rested her elbow on the bed. It was itching into late mid morning and Y/n still hadn't slept. Her eyelids were dragging against her, demanding she rest. She tried to fight it, but eventually her head drooped more and more until it fell next to Spencer's limp arm and the world was lost to her as she fell asleep.

There was a sense of being watched that ripped her awake again. Her eyes shot open and her fingers curled around the sheets, her body going rigid. A pair of hands shot out to wrap around her tense fingers, pulling them away from the bed in an attempt to soothe her. She thought it was Rossi for a second until she sat up and looked over to see a weakly smiling but very awake Spencer. Y/n felt her chest shake as she sucked in a relieved breath.

"Hi," he croaked.

"You idiot." Tears were blurring her vision as she held herself back from punching him in the arm. He was hurt enough. "I oughtta sock you."

He laughed. He actually laughed, the ass. "You were right." He got a little more serious, the look in his eyes becoming soft and his smile being filled with pride rather than amusement. "He was about to kill someone when we came in. You saved a life, Y/n. Maybe even more, depending on how long it would have taken us to get him with where we were taking the case. The profile was just wrong enough he might have gotten a few more people before we stopped him."

That made Y/n relax. "I don't forgive you for getting shot."

Spencer's smile widened. "I'll do better next time."

"You better," Y/n warned. "Or I'LL put you in the hospital next time I swear to god Spencer." His eyes twinkled and Y/n swallowed. "Er, Reid."

He chuckled again. "I like when you call me Spencer. JJ does it too. It's nice."

Y/n tried not to internalize that. "Well if this is us becoming friends then I require you to have a personal nickname given to you by yours truly which only I use," Y/n warned him. After what he had done for her, standing up for her, she couldn't think of them as anything else. It was weird, as the words made her anxiety spike. Was she slipping again? Would these things lead to her obsession again? She wouldn't have to stalk him anymore- now she was right by his side, all alone. What if she was taking advantage of that situation? What would happen if he rejected her friendship? What if they got into an argument? What if his sudden interest in her was just that she was the new kid in town and it faded and they became casual acquaintances after a little while? What if... what if he met someone and that smile he wore now was for them instead?

Y/n felt jealousy twist her gut and she tried not to book it out of the room right then and there.

"I would love that."

Her eyes focused back on him and his smile seemed to waver, picking up on her mood change immediately. "Perfect," she whispered, struggling to speak around the sensation that could only be described as feeling like her ribs crushing into her lungs and heart. She had to blend in though. She couldn't be awkward with Spencer. They were already looking too closely at her. She had to stay calm and keep her distance, but not so much that people noticed and started asking questions. This job meant too much to her she had to get it under control. "How do you feel about Pence?" Her fingers fiddled with each other and his eyes caught the moment immediately. She forced the energy to move to her feet instead, softly tapping where he could not see. "Hm?"

Only then did he answer the question, when she tried to pull his attention away from her body language and to what she had said instead. His eyes stayed trained on her, but he offered a casual, "Whatever you want to call me. I've heard you calling Garcia 'G' and I think that's neat. I've never really had a nickname other than Spence."

"You're right," Y/n mumbled, focusing her mind on the task at hand rather than her pathetic need to be as close to Spencer as possible, in every way she was allowed. GOD she was insane. But that wasn't the concern right now. Right now she needed to think about a nickname for Spencer. "That's too similar. What about just Pen?"

His smile returned and Y/n felt herself relax. "Isn't that Penelope's nickname?"

"We don't use it often, and now people have started to gravitate towards G because I'm a genius and it's way cooler." Spencer grinned and Y/n felt her chest squeeze even tighter. He was beautiful... BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT SHE WAS GOING TO FOCUS ON! "I can think of something else-"

"No I love it," Spencer rushed.

It was Y/n's turn to chuckle.  "I may slip into calling you Penny and you can't judge me for that."

Spencer's fingers brushed hers and she yanked her hand away, seizing up. He seemed to have something suddenly foul tasting in his mouth, but he managed, "I wouldn't ever judge you."

Those words. Oh god. She stood. "I'll get the nurses. Tell them you're awake. You need to eat something." She was gone before he could respond, leaving him confused and alone in her awake.

Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that. I'm weak, but I'm weak, and what's wrong with that? Boy, oh boy I love ya when I fall for that.

"Pick up," Y/n spat through a locked jaw to the ringing tone she was hearing. It had wrung too many times. She had called him so much and he hadn't answered once. She knew she wasn't paying him to be her therapist anymore, but he had said they were friends. To call him if she needed someone who understood to give her encouragement, or just to catch up. Why wasn't he answering?!

"Y/n?"

Relief flooded her body. "Michael." Her tense body relaxed all at once and it was so nice she almost toppled over. Someone stared at her and she waved at them awkwardly before turning away and hoping they minded their own business. "Michael I'm losing my mind."

He was quiet for a second. "Talk to me."

Y/n ran through everything that had happened since that first day in her old office when Spencer and his team had first entered her life for real, all up until the hospital visit a few nights ago and how she had been avoiding him ever since. "It's coming back, Kel. BAD. I can't get him out of my head, and every time he gets anywhere near my body gets all tingly. I DREAMT about him last night. He keeps touching me and it's like I'm getting struck by lighting. And then he said my name and my chest gets all crushed up again and I want to know everything about him and be around him all the time and GOD I'm so scared that I'm going to end up like one of these psychotic unsubs. I don't want to quit. I LOVE my job. But if I'm doing it again-"

"Y/n, take a breath. You're forgetting to breathe when you talk again." She paused, forcing herself to intake and exhale air so her body wouldn't seize up. One time she'd talked so much about Spencer that she'd stopped breathing and had fully passed out. It was pathetic and she hated herself for it, but it had happened. "Now, I need you to really think about these questions before you answer them okay?"

"Okay," Y/n encouraged.

"Have you taken pictures of him without his permission or without him being aware?"

Y/n flinched at the memory of burning the shoe boxes, but was relieved to be able to say, "No."

"Have you followed him anywhere without his permission or without him being aware?"

"No," Y/n confirmed again, a little confused. "I don't have to, we work together."

Michael ignored the comment. "Have you learned personal information about him without his permission or without him being aware?"

"No," Y/n said slowly after thinking about it. She'd learned plenty of things, but she'd avoided it as much as possible for this very reason.

"Have you watched him in anyway without his permission or without him being aware?"

Y/n considered that. "No," she finalized, nodding to herself. "I- well I stare at him sometimes from across the room. Is that bad?"

Michael actually laughed. "Not necessarily." he paused, letting Y/n calm down with that reassurance. "How would you feel if Spencer told you he was dating someone tomorrow?"

That familiar icky gut twist returned as she thought about it. "Terrible." The word was heavy with mourning. It had slipped out immediately without her meaning to say it, so she hadn't been able to even sugar coat the response.

There was a fat pause where Michael was quiet, but he spoke again before Y/n's anxiety could get her to say something or voice her panic. "What about if he showed up with a pet, or a family member that he was close to?"

Well what an odd question. "I wouldn't care."

A smile wrung in Michael's voice when he spoke again. "Does he have someone he's as close to or closer to than you?"

"Well he's really good friends with JJ and Morgan."

"How do you feel about them?"

Y/n frowned. "I really like JJ. She actually got me this job and has been the most helpful in helping me get settled, other than Garcia. But... Morgan seems to have some trepidation about me. He liked me at first but then one day he started to get really short with me and started to try and convince everyone that I'm like not fit for this job or something."

"And that's why only JJ and Spencer went after the unsub, right?"

"Yeah," Y/n agreed. "Why is this important, Kel?"

A short pause this time. "Y/n I don't think you're old tendencies are back." That stunned her.

"But I'm doing all the same things."

"You're actually not," Michael argued. "And even when things overlap, like the watching and getting to know him, it's not for the same reasons. You're naturally forming a relationship rather than living out a fantasy that he's not apart of in reality. Do you remember the last time I asked you about Spencer having a pet or a partner?"

Y/n flinched again, but much worse. "Yeah," she mumbled, covering her face.

"What did you tell me?" Michael asked softly.

Y/n's eyes watered. "I told you they made me angry. That I..." She closed her eyes. "That I wanted to get them out of the way from me being with him."

"And what did you tell me just now when I asked again?" There was regret in his voice, but that was obviously from bringing up the terrible memories of the past. There was something else too. Urgency. He wanted Y/n to understand something, but it seemed to be going over her head.

"Uh... I told you it made me sad."

"Why does it make you sad, Y/n?"

She thought about that. "Because he wouldn't look at me anymore. He gets this really soft look in his eyes when he looks at me. Like I have something important to him but he trusts me with it completely. Or like he admires me or looks up to me. It makes me feel really good about myself." She chuckled sheepishly, wincing. "That's probably silly." She didn't pause before continuing, and Michael didn't try to interrupt her or respond, knowing how she got when she spoke about Spencer. "When he touches me, it's really gently, like I might break or like he's shy. I-" she snorted. "I think that's because he's a germaphobe."

That caught Michael's attention. "He's a germaphobe?"

"Yeah," Y/n sighed. "He won't even shake people's hands, and he washed them a lot when he's stressed. He rarely even accepts hugs from the others so I haven't offered, even when he was in the hospital. But that's also probably because I'm pretty sure I'm literally crazy."

"You're not crazy," Michael said first. Y/n smiled a little. It was very reminiscent of the times he had helped her out of the darkest place she'd ever been. Made her feel safe when she thought she was a walking crime scene waiting to happen. He had been her best friend for so long... why had she stopped calling him? "Y/n?" She hummed, letting him know she was listening. "He refuses handshakes and is afraid of germs and is even hesitant to take hugs from people who are practically his family from what you say, but even though you've guys only really known each other well for a little over a week, he's already willing to touch you?"

Now that he mentioned it, that was rather odd. She hadn't considered it before. "I... yeah, I guess."

The smile was back when he spoke again. "Y/n last time we talked about him, you couldn't even say his name without gripping something so hard your knuckles turned white. Now you talk about him like it's a relief to say it. Before he brought you stress and angst and wanting, but now he brings you peace and happiness and a feeling of belonging. You feel sad at the prospect of losing him in any way, rather than angry. Usually when obsessive people who stalk their targets see them with someone else, they get angry. Normal people get sad."

Y/n tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Her eyes were wide with fear. A fear that was so different from but still just as bad as the thought of her fears of seeing herself being obsessed with Spencer Reid. Because if she wasn't obsessed... "What are you trying to say?" Her words begged him not to say it.

He did anyway. "Y/n, I don't think you're possessive or obsessed with him." He spoke slowly, every word filling her body with more and more dread. "I think you have feelings for him, but not bad ones. Normal ones. I think you like him, like people like each other. Like, want to date him like him."

"Oh god," Y/n whispered. "I- I'll call you later okay Michael?" He sighed and hummed, so she rushed to explain. "I swear I will. For real this time. I can't thank you for everything you've done for me but-"

"You're panicking," he realized. "I completely understand. Please don't do anything stupid, okay? These feelings are normal and perfectly okay."

"Yeah," Y/n whispered, nodding even though he couldn't see her. They exchanged a tentative farewell and then she lowered her phone, running a hand through her hair. "Well," she whispered, staring at the ground like it was about to open up and swallow her whole. "Guess it's time to quit my job."

-

Tag List: @ajwantsapancake @urie-bowie-mercury

[chaseatinydream]

pabo || c.s (atz)

➵ PAIRING: reader x choi san (ateez)

➵ WORD COUNT: 5778

➵ GENRE: fluff, mildly suggestive if you squint

➵ SYNOPSIS:  hongjoong tries his best, but in the end, san’s still a big pabo, and still the man you fell in love with.

>>>

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, hyung. The ambiance is perfect, Seonghwa-hyung is putting the second batch of popcorn in the microwave, and we have successfully hacked into Mingi’s Netflix account.” Yeosang reports as he steps into his leader’s bedroom, carrying two bowls of popcorn, one salted and one caramel. Hongjoong grabs the two bowls as fast as he can and proceeds to remove every last unpopped kernel from the bowl at the speed of light, determination burning in his eyes; none shall escape him.

“Yah, you didn’t hack it, you and Yunho just tickled me till gave the password to you!” Mingi blusters in protest from the hallway, cheeks tinged red as Hongjoong’s attention continues to be completely riveted on assaulting the popcorn, a small hill of unpopped kernels growing next to him. Yeosang raises an eyebrow at the younger member, thoroughly amused.

“It’s alright, you know we don’t judge what you watch, Mingi.” He says matter of factly, but the way Mingi’s face turns fire engine red in a matter of seconds shows that he doesn’t believe that one bit. Hongjoong pauses in the process of sorting out the popcorn, looking up slowly at his member to quirk an eyebrow. “...What exactly is Mingi watching?”

Yeosang opens his mouth to answer, but Mingi beats him to it, rushing in with a “I am a mature man who can watch anything he wants! I have no shame, but you cannot intrude upon my privacy like this, it is my personal tastes and I can enjoy appropriate and deeply emotional shows for my age-”

“He was binge watching all seven seasons of My Little Pony on Netflix. Completely valid, by the way.” Yeosang cuts in with a shrug, popping a caramel popcorn into his mouth. “Friendship is magic.”

Hongjoong keeps the tiny snicker in his mouth as he sifts through the bowl with his fingertips, checking for anymore miscreants that have managed to escape his eye. The deep voiced rapper groans, buries his face in Hongjoong’s minion plush, ears clearly turning bright pink. “I… I have no shame…"

“Sure, Mingi.”

“Anyways, Yeosang,” Hongjoong turns to the vocalist leaning against the door frame, “have you contacted… you know who yet? Are San and Wooyoung back from snack shopping? How long more do we have left?”

“Daddy’s home!” San’s voice rings out through the dorm and Yeosang barely manages to repress a snort. “Snacks!” Mingi cheers, rushing outside and nearly tripping over the popcorn bowl (“Mingi!” Hongjoong screams in alarm) in his haste. The leader breathes a sigh of relief when the popcorn escapes unscathed, holding it close like it’s his firstborn child, “Ohhh, thank God…”

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” Yeosang comments as the noise of Wooyoung and Yunho squabbling over dominance of the remote drifts into the room. Hongjoong lets out a long suffering sigh, eyes closing with all the burdens he has endured.

“The two of them have been dancing around each other for as long as I can remember,” He groans in exasperation, dragging a hand across his face. “At first it was funny watching San-ie being an idiot, but now it’s just sad and depressing.”

Yeosang hides a laugh behind a polite cough as his leader continues to rant so fast he sounds like he’s practicing a new rap. “I swear to god, every time I see the two of in this awkward I clearly like you and am trying to flirt with you but you have the emotional awareness the size of a teaspoon so I think you just see me as a friend nonsense I just... I just feel myself slowly dying on the inside. He comes to me all the time to talk to me about you know who and he practices confessing to me without ever trying it himself in the first place and if I hear one more word about how he thinks they’re just friends I am going to kill him in sleep.” An amused smile grows on one corner of Yeosang’s mouth. “It physically hurts. It takes a mental toll on me. It’s like acid eating away at me. It’s like being struck by lightning repeatedly in the face. And if it goes on for another day I am going to scream.” He finally takes a deep breath, fanning his cheeks when he realises he’s run out of breath. “Wow. That was emotional. I should turn those into some song lyrics for our next comeback.”

The younger vocalist snickers and there’s a crash outside, the sound of the couch falling over, and Seonghwa’s horrified shout of “you pabos!” from the kitchen. “It’ll be fun to see how this turns out, at the very least.” He says as Hongjoong rises to his feet, carrying the bowls of popcorn with him. Before he turns to leave the room, he pauses to tell Hongjoong, “you do know, when you were sorting through the popcorn, you ended up mixing them in the same bowl, right?”

Hongjoong frowns deeply at the bowl for a second as Yeosang heads for the chaos of the living room, studying the contents. Then realisation dawns on his face, and he groans, fighting the urge to smack his forehead into the wall. “I’m such an idiot.”

“I agree!” Yeosang calls from the hallway, and Hongjoong gives a good natured roll of the eyes before moving to join his members outside, salty caramel popcorn and all.

He’s going to make everything perfect down to the last cushion they sit on, play winged cupid for the two of them and hopefully, tonight is the night the torture will end. And maybe at their wedding, he’ll get to be the best man and San will give a long speech about how he everything to Hongjoong for the start of their beautiful love story.

Well, confessing was just the first step.

>>>

The ambiance is not perfect.

Yunho and Mingi are squabbling over the movie choices, Mingi trying to avoid every horror movie on the streaming site (which is impossible, considering that all the movies showing in the month of October are horror movies) while Yunho jumps around dangerously on the sofa with the remote in hand, likely the beginning of their very own Final Destination movie.

“You know,” Hongjoong remarks mildly as he stares at the massive orange thing sitting innocently on the floor of their dorm, “when I said to get a few snacks to get the mood up, I didn’t mean to buy a whole… pumpkin.”

“What other snack is better for the month of Halloween than a pumpkin?” San crows, raising his hand to give Wooyoung a cheeky high-five. Seonghwa stands at the doorway of the kitchen, fingers pressed to his temples in an attempt to face reality, while Hongjoong lets out a pained sigh before he knows what he’s doing. Stumbling to sit at the dining table, he puts his head into his hands with only one very clear thought in mind; San is clearly the villain of his own love story.

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong says, disappointment dripping from every syllable. “You let San buy a pumpkin.”

“Yep! Oh, come on, it can’t be that terrible. Seonghwa-hyung can always make pumpkin soup or something some other day. It’s not that important.” The energetic dancer waves it off with a mischievous grin, until he sees the desperate, dark glow practically emanating off his leader in waves and a bead of cold sweat runs down his back, survival instinct setting off a thousand screeching sirens in his head.

“Tonight needs to be perfect.” Hongjoong stresses the last syllable with so much emphasis that Wooyoung squeaks, involuntarily moving to take a step behind San (as if he’ll be able to protect Wooyoung from Hongjoong in his demon wrath). Then a switch clicks in his mind, it comes to him and his mouth falls open in horror. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, no.” Hongjoong seethes in reply, inconsolable, Wooyoung shrinking back from his leader’s glare. Yeosang simply sighs and shrugs, disappointed but not exactly surprised, Yunho and Mingi even pausing in their little wrestle match to wince simultaneously.

San glances quizzically between the two of them in confusion when he finally catches on that there are some underlying ideas that aren’t being made privy to him.

“What’s going on-” San begins to say, but suddenly there’s a ring of the doorbell and everyone freezes, the remote dropping from Yunho’s hand to knock painfully into Mingi’s nose.

Hongjoong lets out a little, pained noise and slams his face into the table top.

“Were we expecting anyone? All of us are here, aren’t we?” San asks, doing a headcount and not seeming to notice that everyone is glued to the floor, frozen in place like badly arranged shop window mannequins. “Is it Manager-hyung? I’ll go get the door.”

“It’s ruined.” He hears Hongjoong groan as he steps over to open the door, simply frowns. Their manager won’t scold them for messing up the apartment just a little, will he? There isn’t such a big deal.

He opens the door.

Oh.

Then a few more neurons fire weakly and die. Shit.

“Hi, Hongjoong, I’m sorry I got your message late and was in a little bit of a rush coming here, have you guys started without me already?” You’re standing outside the door rummaging through your bag, looking for something, damp hair tossed back by the cold autumn wind just how he likes it and smelling of the city, dressed in a soft peach sweater that used to be his and earrings that he bought you last Christmas.

“It’s you.” San manages to croak out, he sounds like a dying frog, onstage devil, smooth as butter, offstage idiot, walking disaster, he reprimands himself belatedly, staring at you while his mind screams at him in thirty different languages that include Orcish and Latin and runs in tiny circles around his brain. You aren’t supposed to be here.

You continue to look up at him, smiling warmly, prettily with cheeks flushed peach pink that matches the sweater, his sweater, from the rush to their dorm and he simply gapes back, because his mind is not cooperating, motor functions are shutting down without his permission and he is losing all executive command.

“Uhm…” You begin softly and he snaps to attention, looking around frenziedly while you’ve clearly been standing in front of him the entire time and haven’t moved an inch, he hears Hongjoong let out an agonized groan behind him. “Are you going to let me in, Sanshine?”

It’s that nickname again, and christ, he can’t deal with how cute you are-

“Oh my god, get out of the doorway.” A hand latches hard onto the back of his shirt and drags him away, Hongjoong turning to greet you with a warm, welcoming smile. “Hi! Glad you could make it in time, and I’m sorry for the last minute invite too. Come in! The guys are excited to see you!”

“Thank you!” You chirp, stepping in, and the only thing San can think of is ‘they all knew you were coming except for him?’

“Hey!” There’s a chorus of welcomes as you step into the dorm, waving at all of them merrily until you spot the massive pumpkin just sitting in the middle of the dorm, a little bruised on one side from where Mingi had kicked it accidentally in his battle for the remote. “What is that doing here?”

Hongjoong turns his best smile-glare on Wooyoung and the dancer nearly cowers behind Seonghwa. The eldest shows no sympathy, though, and simply pushes Wooyoung out again to face the full brunt of Hongjoong’s wrath.

“I bought it…” Wooyoung squeaks as Hongjoong’s eyes continue to burn the back of his head to cinders. You pause for a moment, observing the large vegetable, before letting out a sweet laugh and smiling at Wooyoung. “You’re funny. That’s a really cute thing to do during Halloween!”

San sputters something unintelligible and Wooyoung grins bashfully, scratching the back of his head as Hongjoong thanks his lucky stars. Atmosphere, check! Level one, clear! Mission, success! This feels like it’s going to be one of their variety shows at this rate, while San’s secret goal is to sabotage the mission… except that his possible happiness and future is the mission.

“So, let’s start the movie!” Yunho announces and it finally dawns on San what you’re here to do. “Wait… you mean you are joining us for the horror movie marathon?”

Hongjoong’s mind screams in raw, physical pain.

You balk a little at the words that leaves San’s mouth, eyes becoming a little downcast. “Oh… I’m sorry. Do you not want me here? I know it’s been your yearly tradition, but Hongjoong invited me, so I thought…” Your voice trails off, and an awkward silence descends upon the two of you, every other member in the living room either having a heart attack or screaming because is San trying to ruin things for himself?

“Ah, no, no, no, that’s not what I meant!” San’s mind backpedals frantically, he’s not going to be able to concentrate on any movie while you’re there, but he doesn’t know how to say it, doesn’t think it’ll be appropriate and oh-my-god you just see him as a friend and that’s inappropriate for friends to say and-

“Ha ha ha!” Seonghwa lets out the fakest, most awkward, high pitched laugh you’ve ever heard from him and drags San away by the ear before he can spew anything more stupid from that mouth. “Just ignore San, he doesn’t know what he’s saying, he’s a little silly sometimes, you know!”

Both you and San start at the way Seonghwa is practically insulting the man to his face, but Jongho choruses in from where he’s laying out pillows and an air mattress. “Yeah, hyung’s just a big pabo, so don’t listen to him!” “We’re glad to have you here!” Mingi adds, trying to make a swipe for the remote but misses.

“Pabo?” San pipes up indignantly, squaring up and ready to throttle the younger vocalist (which would probably be a big mistake), but Hongjoong clamps a hand around San’s head and suffocates him before he can say another word. Seonghwa gestures you to a seat on the sofa, talking to you about your day at work and you reply brightly. He’s put out more fires than a veteran fireman tonight, Hongjoong pats himself on the back encouragingly as he drags San to the kitchen to help take out the popcorn, and for the next part of the mission to commence.

>>>

San’s still rubbing his ear ruefully when he steps out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand, sending half-hearted glares in Hongjoong’s direction every once in a while. Wooyoung has turned down the living room lights and everyone is gathered in front of the television, Mingi squeaking in fright every time a clown or child’s face looms up on the recommended list Yunho is currently scrolling through.

“Ahh, you guys are back!” Yeosang says cheerfully, much too cheerfully, to San’s suspicion. “Here, we saved seats for you.”

Faster than San can blink, Hongjoong is diving onto the air mattress with a whoop, shouting “I claim dibs!” and effectively drawing a cry of pained protest from Wooyoung who was already lying on the matress. Sighing, San looks around for another available seat and sees only one left.

Next to you, on the couch, with barely enough space left for half of him, let alone all of him. He’ll be all pressed up against you, soft and warm next to him, and no. Running a hand through dark hair as he tries to plot out his next course of action that won’t leave him a bumbling idiot in front of you, he’s resigned to sitting on the floor when Hongjoong pipes up.

“There’s a seat on the couch.”

San frowns. “There is?”

Hongjoong’s eyes are almost luminous in the dark with the intensity of his gaze. “There. Is. Room. On. The. Couch.”

A shiver goes down San’s spine at the uncharacteristically terrifying stare. “Yes sir.” But you wave your hands, clearly apologetic, shaking your head as you rise to stand. “Oh no, it’s alright, I can sit on the floor if there’s no space.”

“No!” Both Hongjoong and San rush to stop you immediately, the latter sliding in next to you on the couch, honestly, it’s too tight of a squeeze and there are a myriad of nervous butterflies fluttering in his stomach that feel more like a hive of angry bees. There isn’t enough space for his upper body to fit comfortably, so he raises one arm around your shoulder, not quite touching awkwardly because the two of you are just friends and it’s not appropriate-

Yeosang buries his face in his hands. Part Two of Mission Pabo was not going well.

“Is this okay?” San grunts uncomfortably as he shimmies in next to you, trying to find the most comfortable position he can in the limited space. You look up at him in worry and suddenly your eyes, soft and dark in the faint light of the room. “Yeah, I’m fine, but isn’t this uncomfortable for you?” You shift next to him and San gasps at the feeling of your hand brushing against the bare skin of his torso where his shirt has ridden up just a little, but it’s like a jolt of electricity running through his veins. He jerks away on instinct, but in doing so, the hand around your shoulder smacks into your cheek and you yelp in pain.

San is about ready to jump out of the closest window to save himself the embarassment, but then he remembers that they’re on the first floor and he wishes desperately for the floor to just open up and swallow him whole (swallow him hole, ha).

“Are you alright?” Hongjoong rushes to ask in concern, fingertips gently brushing your cheek as he checks the area and San screams internally. “I’m so sorry, San is a bit of a pabo so please forgive him! He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Yeosang slumps against the wall with a soft cry of secondhand embarrassment and Mingi pats his head comfortingly.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You reassure Hongjoong and turn to beam at San warmly, his heart stops. “Let’s just start the movie, okay?”

“Okay.” He manages to breathe, and wonders how he’s going to continue doing that for the next few hours with you by his side.

>>>

The movie starts off well, or well, at least well as the chaotic eight of them could get. Wooyoung shouts and throws chocolates at the leads of Conjuring for making bad life decisions, while Mingi’s so terrified of every childlike image after Annabelle that he screams when Boss Baby appears in the recommended. San’s so enraptured in watching Final Destination that he doesn’t seem to notice that his arm is slipping down, resting partially on the couch behind you and your shoulder. Content, you simply snuggle quietly into his side, screaming when Mingi screams and looking up at San shyly when he lets out little chuckles, amused at your antics, handsome face illuminated by the light of the next ghost.

When the reindeer monster in The Ritual impales another camper through a tree, you squeak and turn your face away from the movie, but the only thing there is the crook of San’s neck, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the warm skin there. There’s a hitch of breath, a soft gasp drawn through parted lips, and his pulse hammers furiously against the tip of your nose, but that’s because of the movie, right? Not because… not because he thinks that…

A negative little feeling pokes its way into your chest and you find yourself drawing your face from San’s neck, slightly melancholy. As if he’s attuned to your emotions, San frowns, turns to look at you with concerned eyes, but before he can say a word, you rise to your feet.

“I think I’m gonna go get some snacks.” You announce suddenly, stepping over a confused Jongho and Seonghwa to get to the kitchen. Hongjoong is on the verge of tears. “San, what did you do?” He whisper-yells the second you leave the room, and San fumbles to save his ear before Hongjoong can pull it off. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, maybe you should have done something, then!”

“Huh?”

“I think I’ll go to the kitchen and get some snacks too, I’m terrified…” Mingi whimpers as shadows move across the tent before hands rip through the cloth and drag a screaming camper out by the ankles. Hongjoong tosses a pillow at Mingi’s face.

“You. Are. Not. Scared.” Hongjoong says so dangerously Mingi ponders which is scarier for a second, then decides it’s obviously his leader. He shrinks back under the blanket, eyes peeking out over the edge and this time Yeosang pats him on the head sympathetically. Then their leader turns to San, eyes burning with intensity. “San, how about you go help get the snacks?”

San’s confused. “But I’m not scared and I want to watch the movie-”

“Go.”

San immediately scrambles off the couch and heads for the kitchen as fast as he can, hightailing out of living room before Hongjoong can strangle him again. Sliding the door open, he steps into the kitchen silently, closing it behind him, wondering why tonight has been such a strange night.

You’re standing with your back to him, sprinkling some icing sugar over a batch of cookies that you’d brought over. Stepping over to you, he glances over your shoulder, trying to calm the heart pounding in his chest - it’s just the two of you, alone in the kitchen. “Those look good.”

“Jesus Christ, Sanshine, you scared me!” You cry out and jump backwards in fright, back pressing against San’s chest and he reaches out to straighten you by the arms. “I’m sorry!” He apologises, looking over at the mess he’s caused, icing sugar all over the counter and your fingers. “Just give me a second, I’ll-” He raises one of your hands to his lips, tongue darting out to lick the sweetness off your hands. Maybe he’s just too absorbed in his task and doesn’t hear the little whimper you let out, but his mouth dips over your fingers, dragging his teeth lightly across the skin there and sucking lightly on the tips before letting you go with a satisfied smile, swiping bubblegum pink over his lips. “There, all clean!”

The two of you stare at each other for approximately another ten seconds, you with your mouth hanging wide open, San still proud of himself for clearing up the mess until his brain catches up with what he’s just done, and how very inappropriate for friends it is.

San barely manages to hold in his scream just as a round of horrified high pitched shouts come from the living room, they reflect the state his mind is in all too well. He’s screwed things up, and now there will be no more relationship, let alone friendship, and-

After several deep breaths and near heart attacks, he manages to breathe, unable to look you in the eye. “Well… how about we just…” He drags a breath in, dragging a hand through his hair harshly, “go back out there and forget this ever happened?” The silence continues, and he holds in a little whimper. “Please?”

His plea hangs in the empty silence that stretches between the two of you, and San is convinced that he’s just made the biggest screw up of his life, this friendship is over, that Jongho was right and he is the biggest pabo-

“I don’t want to.”

Huh?

You raise your hand, and there’s a dangerous, playful glint in your eye that he can’t help but feel like he’s going to get burned by. “This is pretty… inappropriate for friends, wouldn’t you say?”

That’s what I’ve been saying this entire night! His subconscious hollers, but San forcibly wrenches him from the mental steering wheel and throws him into the backseat, mind still completely blank and uncomprehending. Nameless speech organs seemed to have lodged themselves in his mouth and throat, and butchering his attempt of a ‘what do you mean’ into a mangled ‘whu- don’t- huh?’

You laugh, a sweet, dangerous chuckle that sends a shiver down his spine and step forward, San unconsciously taking one back, another, another, and another until the small of his back hits the kitchen island and he has nowhere else to escape, but you’re still closing the distance between the two of you, and his heart leaps into his mouth, pulse thundering haywire - this can’t be good for his cardiac health.

Then your arms are coming up to brace themselves on the kitchen counter and he’s trapped, irises blown wide and cheeks flushed as you lean in close, more close than appropriate, completely inappropriate for friends, and there’s a little voice that keeps screaming in his head, he actually might be on the verge of a heart attack, and-

“How about this?” You whisper, and a shudder wrecks his spine, a coy smile that is, too, entirely inappropriate for this situation playing on your lips, his breaths are coming out in short little pants and he doesn’t know what or how to think. “Is this inappropriate for friends too?”

“Very.” He finds himself replying, voice weak, and instantly finds an urge to cover his face in embarrassment, what on earth is he saying? But before he can, one of your hands pins his wrist to the counter next to him with barely any force and he feels his knees go weak, because that’s sexy as hell, and then you’re leaning in, leaning in closer…

The first slide of your lips against his and he forgets how to breathe.

It’s soft, electric, barely there but sends fire and ice racing over his body and his head spins, a soft whine muffled against your lips, you taste like impulse and desire and cherry sweet not friend appropriate intent, and he nearly collapses against the counter, elbows propped against the cool marble surface barely serving to keep him upright.

You pull away, but not far, still close enough to feel his hitching breath tickling your face in little, breathy puffs, watching as he tries to claw the remains of his self control back together. His head has fallen back to expose the underside of his jaw and the hollow of his throat, and while you feel a near irrepressible urge to kiss and taste the skin there, you stave it off, delayed gratification, you promise yourself. His eyelids flutter dazedly, slivers of dark brown flitting between between glancing at you and flinching away, raw emotion pooling in the corners of his eyes.

Oh, he is so beautiful to watch like this.

Your lips meet again, a little deeper this time, and he whispers your name hot against your mouth. When you part your lips just a little to drag the tip of your tongue across his bruised lower lip, he keens, melting against you and you press him against the kitchen island with your hands on his hipbones, “can’t have you fainting on me now, can I?”

And then you’re pulling away, finally, blessedly, regrettably and he manages to crack one eye open, chest still heaving for breath and wondering how he’s still alive as you smile innocently at him, tongue darting out to flick against the corner of your mouth. “There.” You tell him softly, holding his gaze the entire time with some sort of dark intensity lurking beneath the surface, voice somewhere between a purr and a rasp. “All clean.”

His words? Thrown back at him. His mind? Left in shambles? Hotel? Trivago.

He needs to visit a cardiologist tomorrow.

“Clean.” He manages to repeat, voice hoarse, and then you’re grinning so cheerfully that San has whiplash, you take him by the hand and lead him back outside, where everyone is still watching the movie. You slide back onto your seat and pat the space next to you. San sits, a little gingerly, and you shift, so that you’re almost half in his lap, and tuck his arm around your waist, burying your face in the crook of his neck just like you were earlier. His pulse picks up again, fluttering against your cheek and you smile, letting your eyes squeeze close, feeling happier than you have for the first time in months.

Silently, San draws you in, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he pulls you closer, plants a soft kiss on your temple and leans his cheek against the top of your head, closing his eyes as the last camper finally escapes the forest.

From the air mattress, Wooyoung and Hongjoong fist bump and do a dab.

>>>

He’s awoken by a clicking sound.

“I’m keeping these forever.”

“I’m never going to let this go down. I’m going to write it down, my kids will know about it, my great great grand kids will know about, then I’m going to sell the USB to his kids as blackmail-”

San grunts, batting against the noise as a sleepy haze tries to pull him back under, there’s an abrupt silence and then furious whispering. Unfortunately, San is far too removed from dreamland to return to sleep now and stretches his back, or rather, attempts to.

He realises he can’t properly feel his legs and blinks his eyes open sleepily, trying to spot the reason for his discomfort and seeing oh-

You’re curled up in his lap and against his chest, each soft breath puffing against his neck and hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt. Even though he probably really should get you to move before he loses all feeling in his legs, he’s loathe to do so, instead staring down at you with unreadable eyes, chest tightening.

“Rise and shine!” Hongjoong yawns, looking bright and cheery, which is… unsettling to say the least. He taps you on the shoulder and you grumble, still soft and sleepy and so adorable that San swears there are flowers growing in his heart, burying your face in his neck as if that would hide you from the rest of the world.

Rest of the world.

San looks up and sees the rest of his members already wide awake and staring expectantly at him, minus Yunho who is still completely crashed on the air mattress. That doesn’t make things a lot better. He feels his cheeks burning in an instant and Wooyoung lets out a seal like laugh, San picks up a minion plush and tosses it at his best friend while Hongjoong rushes to save it.

“Hey.” He grabs your wrist and tugs gently, and you finally sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. Oh, he thinks. Damn, he adds. He’s whipped.

“We didn’t mean to wake you up, but you should be getting home before peak hour.” Yeosang supplies helpfully, and San can’t help but mourn a little for the loss of your weight on his thigh, even though his legs are crying for joy. You nod, grab your things and head for the door, Hongjoong gives San a stern stare. “San, show her out.”

San doesn’t protest this time, moving over to the door where you’re slipping on your shoes and patting down your hair, he leans against the door frame and simply looks, watches until he can bring the words to pass his lips.

“So…” San begins, and you glance up at him curiously. “I.... I wanted to say that… to ask if… we could be...”

More, his heart and mind chorus. Inappropriate, another part of him adds with a gleeful little chuckle, and he claps that bit into the dustbin and slams the lid on top.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Hongjoong storms over and San glances over in confusion at his tiny leader near bursting with rage, but Hongjoong grabs San by the shoulders, spins him to face you squarely and shakes him a little. “Spit it out, San! I’ve heard it a thousand and one times already, so it should be easy for you to recite by now, shouldn’t it?”

San gapes in horror. “I-”

You laugh. “It’s okay, Hong, I think I already know what he wants to say.” Hongjoong blinks in confusion, but you turn to San, smile radiantly and lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips, they still taste like sugar. San merely stands there, frozen as a petrified tree as you step back and wave, to the rest of the boys in the room. “Bye, guys! Bye, Yunho! Thanks, Seonghwa!” The oldest salutes, his other hand pressed firmly across the maknae’s eyes as he complains and struggles to get out of his grasp.

Then you’re gone.

Hongjoong waits a whole minute for San to react as Seonghwa and Jongho squabble in the back, and when San doesn’t, still staring blankly out of the door, he moves forward to tap San on the shoulder. “Um… San-ah? You okay there? Did we break your brain or anything?”

San turns around slowly, a befuddled expression on his face as he glances up to look at his leader, blinking slowly, fingertips pressed to his lips in amazement.

“But Hongjoong-hyung… that was completely inappropriate for friends…”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong scream.

>>>

Some time ago…

“Mission Pabo Part Three: Surveillance, begin!” Hongjoong whispers the second San disappears into the kitchen and Wooyoung immediately drags a tablet out from under the air mattress, placing it on the couch as the rest of the members crowd around it, Mingi excluded, who’s still too terrified to expose himself to the evil spirits held at bay by his blanket. Yeosang fiddles with the buttons on the app, scrolling through channels as the rest hiss at him to hurry up.

“Shh! I’m trying.” Yeosang whispers back huffily, tapping on several tabs and channels. Jongho shifts closer to the screen, trying to see the feed over Seonghwa’s shoulder, who’s a few inches from losing balance and frowns. Honestly, did his hyungs think this kind of stupid strategy would work? “Kitchen… kitchen… there it is!”

Immediately his hyungs scream, Yeosang very nearly tossing the whole tablet into the air. Jongho makes a face of disgust and moves to pick up the fallen device, but before he can take another step, Seonghwa pounces right on him, shoving a pillow over his face as he screeches for Wooyoung to turn the damned thing off.

Jongho never finds out what happened in that kitchen.

[loruleanheart]

Desired Fate, Chapter 7

Read on ff.net

Read on AO3

The ceremony to inaugurate the Champions was the first formal event of its size that had been held in some time. The only other event of this magnitude was the Queen’s funeral when Princess Zelda was six years of age. An event that had mostly faded from her memory.

Everyone gathered in the sanctum with a few soldiers from each race to accompany their respective champion.

The Champions and Link were all dressed in a blue article of clothing Zelda had made for them. A skirt for Urbosa, a scarf for Revali, a sash for Mipha and Daruk, and a blue tunic for Link. 

King Rhoam gave a rousing speech. Even Zelda felt a renewed sense of duty. Everything felt normal and right.

The ceremony was to be concluded with the princess’s blessing to the hero and the sword that seals the darkness, and that’s when Zelda’s enthusiasm was curbed quite a bit.

Link knelt before her with the sacred blade at his back. Zelda could feel the eyes of the Champions, Impa, and her father bearing down on her as she gave a rehearsed, half-hearted speech. She wasn’t feeling worthy of giving such a blessing, but she got through it without incident.

Zelda concluded the blessing and gave a soft sigh of relief. She couldn’t help but glance at the back of her gloved hand. Her hand, where the power was said to manifest in females born to the goddess’s bloodline. If it would only awaken within her. 

Later, when everyone was winding down after the ceremony, Zelda sat alone on a concrete bench, watching the Champions enjoy a moment of rest.

What did they think of her? On the surface, they all seemed reasonably supportive of her struggle to unlock her power, but what did they really think of her?

How many times had she trained at the springs of power and courage? And soon she’d do it all over again. Again, most likely without success.  The failure and disappointment were taking their toll. She felt like she was a million years old, despite her physical age of a mere sixteen.

She was vaguely aware of the conversations of the Champions, but the Zora Princess caught her attention. Mipha was not so subtly gushing about Link, wanting to become stronger to fight alongside him. It seemed the poor Zora Princess was unaware that she’d been speaking loudly enough to gain Link’s attention and Mipha became flustered when he turned to acknowledge her.

Something inside Zelda twinged.

If only it were that simple...

Zelda lowered her gaze and pushed her mind elsewhere, fidgeting with the gold ring that secured her gloves.

oOo

Astor looked down at the back of his gloved hand. He tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the table, the gold ring on his finger creating a gentle clinking sound. It appeared the Harbinger was still displeased with him.

Kohga knelt to offer the black Guardian a banana, the Harbinger slapping it away.

“You’ve really done it this time, little lord malice! It’s been three days and your Harbinger is still pouting like a spoiled child.”

Astor felt a headache coming on, not bothering to chastise Kohga for being so disrespectful to Lord Ganon. He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, trying to clear his mind.

… twins...

The thought landed like a Guardian crashing through Astor’s mental wall. His heart rate quickened and he shakily pushed the thought away, not wanting to confront it, simply passing it off as an intrusive thought planted by Kohga’s earlier comments.

The prophet redirected his thoughts. It wasn’t lost on him that there was a huge celebration underway at Hyrule Castle. All of Hyrule was united against him and his destiny. Not even the Yiga seemed particularly invested, and why would they? They seemed satisfied with their current way of life.

And then there was her… The Princess whose power to seal Calamity Ganon away was dormant, yet she had spared him. She should hate him, fear him.

She was a fixture in his prophetic dreams as of late, and he wouldn’t dare speak a word of them to the Yiga Leaders for a multitude of reasons. They were already losing faith in him as it was. More distressing, he sensed these prophetic dreams were not of Calamity Ganon. No, these prophetic dreams were a stark contrast from the Great Calamity’s. 

He felt a most unwelcome feeling creeping in.

Could it be that she’s not fated to die? That’s why I failed… I... can accept that... She’s fated to unlock her power… No, no… Preventing her from unlocking that power is the least I can do…

“Hey prophesy man, you alright? You seem like you’re losing your bananas…”

“He never had any to begin with….” Sooga commented.

Astor barely heard them, his thoughts fixed on this new vision he’d been having night after night since he’d crossed her path.

The scene is a familiar one - Fort Hateno. In this vision, not only has she unlocked her power, but she’s taking down blights and Guardians with horrifying ease. She wielded her newfound power with confidence and glowed with a radiant, otherworldly light. Her movements were like a graceful dance. It was like watching a beautiful and powerful goddess destroying his entire world and leaving him in ruin. And he hated the thoughts and feelings this girl conjured up whenever he saw her or so much as thought about her. So this was the future? Did the Calamity even stand a chance? And what did this mean for him and the destiny he thought he had?

“Wretched girl….”

oOo

As the other Champions departed Urbosa came to sit next to a forlorn Zelda. The princess looked up, acknowledging Urbosa with a small smile.

“It’s been quite a whirlwind these past few days.” Urbosa smiled back.

“Yes, it has...” Zelda agreed.

Urbosa’s features changed becoming serious. “Zelda… You’re doing everything right. Feeling sorry for yourself certainly isn’t going to unlock any sort of divine power… But you know what? You never know what might trigger it to at last manifest. You just have to find that thing…  It may be something you could never have envisioned. Don’t give up.”

Zelda breathed in deeply. “Yes, that is my hope…”

Impa approached them along with Purah by her side.

Zelda nearly jumped when she saw Purah, waiting with bated breath for what the Sheikah researcher had to say.

“Princess. I think you’ll be pleased to hear that we did manage to uncover one new bit of information on your mystery man.”

Zelda lit up with a beautiful smile she couldn’t seem to hide, which didn’t go unnoticed by those around her, especially Purah. Even Link took notice and came over to join them.

The Sheikah woman handed Zelda the Slate. “Take a look!” She said a little too enthusiastically, either proud of her accomplishment or eager to see Zelda’s reaction. Impa shot her sister a withering look.

The Sheikah genius walked away, oblivious to what was about to unfold due to her bad timing.

Sure enough, there was a new true to life image. This one showed Astor with two Yiga foot soldiers taking a knee to him. 

Zelda’s smile faded a bit.

Astor… He truly is the center of all things Calamity Ganon…

“Well, well, well. Why am I not surprised?” Urbosa remarked.

Zelda’s chest tightened, waiting for what Urbosa would say next.

“I must admit, I feel responsible given that Gerudo Desert has been home to the Yiga for a long time now. I’ve been far too lenient with them.” 

Zelda relaxed a little. Urbosa still none the wiser. Urbosa was right, however. She shouldn’t be surprised by this development.

“No more…I think Vah Naboris will be indispensable in taking them by surprise at their hideout. It would be a long time coming. Link… Impa… Will you join me in this mission?” Urbosa asked.

The two nodded their approval.

Zelda was stunned, feeling left out of the discussion on what should be done. “Then... I will go as well,” Zelda interjected, prompted by the knowledge that Astor might be at that hideout.

“But, you’d be in danger as you’re their primary target. They’ve tried to kill you, little bird, so now I will crush them beneath Vah Naboris’ hoof.”

What could she say to convince her? Zelda put on a brave face. “Look Urbosa, as princess of Hyrule this is my fight.”

Urbosa gave Zelda a warm smile. “I can see you possess unmatched courage and determination. You remind me of a certain Hylian Vai I used to know.”

“My mother?”

Urbosa nodded. “This still does not sit right with me. I wouldn't feel right putting you in harm's way. This will be an extremely dangerous mission. Not to mention, you’d be a liability for everyone, especially Link who is charged with guarding you.”

“But, I…” Zelda began, realizing this was not an argument she could win. Urbosa’s words stung, but it was true, she’d already wandered off from the group once before and nearly paid with her life. So there really was nothing more she could say without raising Urbosa’s suspicions. Already she was feeling guilty for suggesting she go.

Urbosa’s expression softened. “Sorry… I know that was a sore subject for you, but my stance on this is firm. Don’t worry, little bird, with the might of Vah Naboris, I will raze the Yiga Hideout and anyone left will meet a swift end by my blade.”

Zelda held back the growing dread in the pit of her stomach. She gripped the slate a little too hard, her knuckles going white.

Goddesses, why couldn’t Purah be more discrete… I know this is the right course of action for Hyrule, but…

Zelda shuddered in defeat. Link and Impa caught the princess’s glance. Link held the same imperceptible expression. Impa was watching Zelda, her brow furrowed. The Sheikah advisor gave an audible exhale and dropped her gaze.

[imaginethoseguys]

Dog... not me saying I won't be writing fanfiction anymore, then asking for Haikyuu inspo and then finishing 3 seasons of Bungou Stray Dogs in a week and writing this...... I have no explanations. bye

One Way

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x fem!S/O Word count: 2.7k Warnings: suicide and depression, angst, it ends good tho Summary: After parting, Dazai thought he would never see her again. He convinced himself he wouldn't. But then, a new lead for a case appears, and Dazai feels his entire being shattering to pieces.

When Dazai saw that case for the first time, he didn’t believe it. It was too good to be true. No, it couldn’t possibly be true. After they parted the last time, he never imagined such a chance to present itself to him. But all the evidence said otherwise, so it left him no choice but to believe. His deadly precise logic was in a raging conflict with his emotions, which Dazai never thought would be an issue. Although, lately, everything became too possible for his comfort.

In existential fear of meeting her again, he regretted meeting her at all. Not for the reasons one would assume. Looking back, he should’ve killed himself months, months, and months ago because now that he knew her, he understood how difficult it was going to be. Before, he was eager and ready to end his life. Nothing really held him back, no bonds strong enough to regret leaving them behind. The issue lied not in reflexivity or thinking too much about others. It was in nothing but his own overbearing and absolute selfishness when it came to her. He didn’t want to live to keep her company, he wanted to hold onto his privilege of looking at her, touching her, smelling her hair, kissing her knuckles, feeling her gaze on his face, feeling her fingers in his hair. He was rid of it after they last saw each other, which was ages ago.

Now, this crushing lonely bliss was tumbling down, all because of a file that stared at Dazai from the surface of his desk. Dozens of people dead, Yokohama was on the brink of a cross-organization conflict, and the newly located lead had Dazai completely taken aback. He wasn’t working, of course, to Kunikida’s great annoyance. He was thinking, spiraling into endless rabbit holes, staring at her photo attached to the file. She looked so nice, why did she always look so nice? Well, he knew why, she was elegant and stylish, there was a metaphysical kind of beauty to her, she looked breathtaking no matter what she did. Perhaps, it was his bias talking. She always looked after his appearance back in the Port Mafia days. She fixed his ties, she taught him to buy good-fitted pants and shirts. She wouldn’t shut up about Mori’s coat asking him to please throw this doormat away and get something nice. He figured it probably wasn’t the coat as much as it was her hate for Mori and his nasty pedophilia, it’s so disgusting it’s probably contagious please wash your hands. She cared. It felt nice. She would be happy to know he burnt it. He wondered if she would like his new coat. He bought it trying his best to remember her advice. He wanted to show it to her.

Wanted but couldn’t, there was no way. There were rumours about her death a few years ago among the Port Mafia crowd, but Dazai called bullshit on it right away. She knew better and she did better than just dying somewhere. Staring at her photo that was clearly taken here, in Yokohama, he couldn’t understand. Why was she here? Why was she involved? She had no reason to be. She wanted to get away, there was nothing she wanted more. After Oda died, they both decided to leave Port Mafia. But Dazai intended to stay in Yokohama and she wished to leave without looking back. Mutual loss drove them apart, they both weren’t mentally ready to find compromises. So she left. And he stayed. And now there was this photo of her, shamelessly lying in the file and destroying the elaborate image of a life he has built for himself. He stated at it for another minute or two. There was one reason for her to be back, Dazai was deliberately avoiding even considering this reason because everything inside him screamed how unrealistic and stupid this reason was.

Still, he had to suppress his inner turmoil because no matter what he thought, rationally, there was only one way to find out. Uttering a quiet ‘I see how it is,’ he got up and started walking towards the exit. Kunikida was quick to stop him.

“Where do you think you’re going, Dazai?”

“Weren’t you the one who gave me the file? I’m off to work, of course.”

“Don’t say ‘of course’ like it’s something ordinary, idiot.”

Kunikida eyed Dazai’s face and fell silent for a moment.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked, calmer and noticeably more serious. Dazai looked back at him, eyes half-closed, giving him a moment of silence in return before breaking into another exaggerated smile.

“No thank you, I don’t want you ruining my disguise plan, Kunikida.”

Kunikida started yelling again, but Dazai paid it little attention since he was already out of the door.

One way, he thought repeatedly, as if to burn the phrase into his mind. ___ The building Dazai found himself in was no coincidence or convenience. Universe was speaking to him, furiously punching the obvious into the back of his head as he dodged and ignored the impact. The old abandoned church was the place where he found her after a failed attack mission. She wasn’t a stranger to murder, and she was prepared to face death of her associates as well as her own, but it was her first mission in command and a first horrifying defeat, which she did not take lightly. He found her hysterical, sobbing and holding onto her arms so hard it bruised, fingers almost piercing through fabric and skin. Never in his life has Dazai ached for someone else’s pain as much as he ached for hers. He couldn’t bring himself to say something usually harsh, like stop pitying yourself or get over yourself and get your shit together. Instead, he grabbed her and pressed her trembling body into his own, hugging her so hard she could barely breath anymore. He wanted to squeeze all the anguish out of her and absorb it. It wasn’t a problem, he dealt with worse, he could take it, so please let him so she doesn’t have to. His head pulsated in despair, at a loss of what to say and what to do. So he kissed her, so hard their teeth collided. He kissed her and kissed her, until she couldn’t think. He wanted to distract her, to leave her head an empty space, to leave her no chance to reflect, remember, or blame herself. No chance to feel anything.

Looking back, Dazai wouldn’t call it the healthiest way to comfort someone in distress, but it kind of worked, so who’s to judge. He walked up to the altar, allowing the nostalgia to take over his senses for a little while. He always found it funny: they made their secret meeting place a church, yet nothing they did here was close to holy. Nothing they ever did in their lives was holy. A murder 9 to 5 takes a pretty big toll on your mind and soul so having someone in your orbit who relieved your sense of existential dread and sometimes made you forget you’re dead inside helped. This is why Dazai wanted so badly for this lead to be a dead end. He was doing such a nice job of having his shit together and seeing her meant all of it would go to hell. One could say he was being too harsh on himself, but these were facts: as an analytic, Dazai knew himself in and out, and he acknowledged that his feelings for her, which was arguably his most irrational part of being, were a threat to his work performance, moral compass, and strive for the sweet embrace of death. It had to be fake. Then, he would come back to the agency, and she would be gone, and he would be able to solve the case like 2+2 and move on. Then, he would commit suicide, perhaps with some lovely lady, in some poetic and melancholic way, letting the black hole in his chest ascend into space and settle somewhere in its infinity. And all would be well. If this lead was a fake. If it’s a fake. If it’s—

“Fancy meeting you here.”

A second, and Dazai can swear he hears the sounds of glass breaking all around him. Everything is vacuum, the following silence is deafeningly loud in his ears. His body aches and his chest feels tight and prickly. He can’t find it in himself to breathe.

“You know, I wasn’t even sure this place would still be here, but I sacrificed logistics for the sake of a romantic sentiment.”

Her heels tapped against the old wooden floor as he felt her get closer to him.

“I guess great minds think alike,” Dazai said without turning around. There was silence again. He could feel her soft (he knew it as) gaze on his back. His fingers trembled.

“What do you have to do with this whole thing? You’re a primary suspect. What’s your gain?” Deciding to wait no more, Dazai spoke.

He hears her chuckle.

“Why do you ask me if you already know the answer?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Don’t say it.

Don’t say it.

Don’t say it.

“I got involved on purpose, of course.”

“Why?”

Say it isn’t so.

“To get to you.”

The hole in his chest shifts, it grows bigger, hungrier, it howls, like a whale on the bottom of an ocean. Even though she has left a long time ago, her ghostly presence lingers inside of him, a little smoldering coal, red sparkle inside a black pit of nothingness. It senses her presence, her scent, the timbre of her voice, and it starts absorbing everything it can reach just to get her closer, to lure her in.

“It was a pretty risky affair, I confess. I’m on a radar right now. I’m surprised no one followed you here, but you’re Dazai, so I shouldn’t be too surprised.”

She waited for his reaction and when nothing followed, continued to talk.

“My leave from Port Mafia was messy. I’m not on good terms with Mori, like you. I’m not on any terms with him except for my ever-burning hatred of that perv. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything, but after Odasaku things moved fast, so I had to leave immediately. The only option of me not dying was a one-way ticket. I wasn’t supposed to get involved with anything in Yokohama, otherwise they would be fast on my ass.”

He knew that, he knew all of that, he wasn’t stupid. He understood she was telling him this to fill the silence and not to explain herself. But seeing, or hearing in this case, her alive meant her escape was successful. So why? Why would she come back? To a person who did not follow her. Who did not write her. Dazai did not want her being tracked by anyone, so he kept his distance. But this distance was supposed to drive her away, to separate them. To turn them into strangers.

“So why,” Dazai said out loud, finishing his train of thought. “Why are you here? Why on earth are you here? Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably, “she mused. She was right behind him now.

“Tell me the reason,” Dazai gritted his teeth. It was the only way to stop his entire body from shaking. Just tell him something, anything but not what he wants her to say.

“Because life without you is meaningless and miserable.”

Dazai scoffed. Who is she saying this to?

“I don’t want to live if it’s a life where I never see you again. I’d rather live 5 minutes after seeing your face than god knows how many years with you as a fading memory. I fucking hate your memory; I don’t need it. I need you. I’m not a good person, I don’t deserve chances at life, I’m not gonna use them. I killed a bunch of innocent people in hopes of getting you on the case, you think I care for my life anymore?”

He remained silent. He knew this feeling too well. To live with a bottomless pit for a heart, to meet someone who covered it so nicely to then be rid of that someone? It was better to never cover the pit in the first place. It only hurts more when you know things can be different. Better leave them untouched and let the black hole swallow you, thinking this is how it’s supposed to be.

“Osamu. Look at me.”

He let in a shaky breath. He hasn’t heard his name like this in forever. No one else could say it like her. In no one else’s lips did it sound so soft, so tender, so welcoming.

So loving.

“Please don’t make me turn around,” he said quietly, barely a whisper, voice filled with pity and hurt.

“Why?” she echoed as quietly.

“Because I’ve been doing such a good job ridding my life of any meaning. I’ve convinced myself I won’t be seeing you again and that I’m fine with it. I’m numb. It makes the work so easy, you know? I can execute any plan and not worry about anything. I’ve studied so many ways of suicide. I’ve never been closer to making my wish come true. I can spend a bit more time helping others and then clock out into nihility.”

He felt her forehead softly press against his back. Her long gentle hands went around his waist and locked on his stomach. Her delicate fingers reached to his hollow chest, to the hungry wailing emptiness that was devouring him and cradled it. She took it into her warm benevolent palms and held it carefully, warming it up. Dazai breathed out brokenly, his own hands lingering above hers, hesitant.

“How am I supposed to kill myself after seeing your face?”

He felt her smile.

“I’m sorry. I’m too selfish.”

Her body shifted back slightly, which made Dazai instinctively turn his head to the side.

“Got you.”

With that, she leaned onto him and caught his lips in hers. Check mate. Losing any last bits of control, he spinned around, grabbing her, pressing her body closer to his. He wanted to hold her close, so close, closer than ever before. He wanted to dissolve in her, to become one with her because it seemed to be the only way to never lose her again. Life didn’t need to have meaning, there was no meaning. No meaning, no God, no purpose, no higher power, no morality, no ethics, no good, and no evil. There was only her. He only needed her. Her lips, her scent, her voice. She could be his God, his judgment his atonement, his nationality, his worldview. His sin and confession, his modesty and decadence. His culture and ignorance.

He could feel her own darkness longing, begging for his presence, the way his longed for her. She talked to him through her tongue entwining with his, through her hands clutching his shirt.

I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you

A small and hesitant do you love me? Do you want me?

Dazai smiled helplessly.

Why do you even ask? Of course I love you. I can’t fucking live without you, life is pointless without you in it. I want only you, there is nothing else in this world. It’s only you.

you you you you you you you you

When they break apart, they are both breathless, like they just ran a marathon. He finally opens his eyes and looks at her. It’s a paradox, how she looks so different yet so comfortably same as the last day he saw her. Same glimpse in her eyes when she looks at him. Same soft hands cupping his cheeks. Same breathtaking scent that blurs your mind and vision. It’s her. The pit in his chest is quiet, for the first time in years. The lingering coal is lit up, it’s bright and warm, and the flame is her figure.

She looks him up and down, pleased.

“You got a new coat.”

He grins, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Yeah. Do you like it?”

She closes her eyes again, placing her palm firmly on his chest, sealing the darkness shut.

“I love it.”

[oveliagirlhaditright]

This Is Your Life - NeShiki

A NeShiki AU for Week 2, Day 2. Neo Spoilers. Oneshot.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33449641

Shiki and Neku had been together for three years now… Three blissful years, even amidst all the heartache and pain of them having to live in the UG these days, but blissful they were.

Shiki could still remember well, the time that Neku had wanted to celebrate Christmas with her in the UG (their first Christmas together) and had wanted to buy a tree, of course. And he had… But he’d ended up buying a fake palm tree to decorate with instead of a pine tree, in fearing that if someone happened to see him in the UG… they might somehow link Christmas to the Christian God, and then that with the Composer, and then maybe jump to the right conclusion that Neku knew who the Composer was, and bring even more danger down on them all that way.

So, Neku had bought a fake palm tree. And, truly, it had been silly. Shiki had been sure to tease Neku for it, too. And later, even he’d realized he overreacted (even though they probably wouldn’t take back the chance to try and protect Josh, even if they could… as he had been pretty good to them since enlisting them here)… but even with the silliness, it was probably Shiki’s happiest memory. She’d put a Malibu Barbie on top as the “angel”, and Neku had replied that that seemed fitting of a fashionista like her… and it had all been ridiculous, and so much fun.

And it was for that kind of happiness, that Shiki was mostly glad that she had ended up in the UG with Neku again. She hadn’t killed herself after Coco had murdered him—even though a part of her had been tempted to, to Partner with him in the Game again if he had needed her—and hadn’t gone back to the old Shiki, but rather had gone to work getting Gatto Nero up off the ground with Eri.

But then… Shiki had died in another accident. Not a car accident this time, but a piano falling on her head, of all things, while she was walking down the street. Thankfully, she hadn’t felt that, and the next thing she’d known, she’d been in the UG with Neku and Joshua…

Shiki had then thrown her arms around Neku then and sobbed uncontrollably. And while Neku often tried to act calm, cool and collected, she thought that he had behaved as emotionally as she had when they’d been reunited.

Joshua had explained then, that he was just going to give her the penalty of not being able to play the Game again, since she and Neku were Partners (at the time, Shiki had wanted to slap Josh—thinking that he was trying to rip away her chance of trying to come back to life again—but now she understood he had just given her the solid of not having to play the Game again), and for that reason, they would be his unofficial Reapers working with him to figure out what had happened in Shinjuku.

Neku had apparently been working with Josh on that as soon as he’d died… though Shiki could tell he wanted to come back home, eventually, and so did she.

So, she told herself that when they stopped whatever was going to happen to Shibuya—Josh had to be mums the word about some things, it seemed—she would try and see if he would let them go back to the RG.

Shiki wanted to believe that Joshua would let them… seeing as how he hadn’t forced them to become actual Reapers, or anything—which he more than had the power to do so—and instead pretty much let them be Players, but without a Game to play.

Shiki did still work on Gatto Nero with Eri. Very rarely, Joshua would tune her into the RG, so they could work on a few designs—she would go and see her bestie in the dead of night—and the next day, they would be back to having to e-mail it again… It was hard, but Shiki would take it.

So, this was the life that Shiki and Neku (and Josh, to an extent) had had for three years. A lot of the time, they would live with Joshua at the Shibuya River—because it was faster to be able to work with him on things that way—but other times, they needed their private time and stayed in an abandoned house together. Relators said that it was haunted, which was why people didn’t go there, but Neku—who had learned how to scan Souls during some of their time in Shinjuku—told Shiki that that wasn’t true in the slightest: to which she had had to giggle, that people could be so superstitious.

This was the life that Shiki and Neku had built for themselves… And maybe it was a little reckless to split up from Josh, when they had so many people gunning for them. But she and Neku deserved some happiness, right?

They both had seemed to think so… but now Shiki was very much wondering about that, when in this new Game… Neku had been caught—after he’d been unable to help himself from aiding Players in need—when he’d been going back from the Shibuya River to their home.

And Shiki hadn’t heard from him since he had headed for the Room of Reckoning this morning.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened. And Shiki did find herself going outside, to hear players and Reapers alike talk about how they were going to catch Neku.

“Oh, Neku,” Shiki thought, as a tear escaped from her eyes now, “I should have made more of the trips to Josh myself. I’m less recognizable than you are, since my Entry Fee was my appearance and most people don’t know what I look like now. Nor am I a ‘legendary player’. Your leaving now had foolish written all over it, and I should have seen it and gone in your stead!”

The fact that Neku hadn’t even had time to text her since he’d become the UG’s most wanted didn’t bode well to Shiki, either.

And Shiki was freely crying now—and near a panic attack, as she clutched at her arms—but she told herself to hold it together. It wouldn’t do to start fretting while standing over here at her and Neku’s dining room table…

Their dining room table that Neku had once gotten so sick at, almost acting liking he had Malaria, as he how tripped down the stairs and into it, while Shiki had looked up from her knitting, horrified—even after being in the UG, he had gotten this sick, when she wouldn’t have thought that that was possible—and she’d had to lay him down on the table to get him to drink medicine as fast as she could then, as his fever had been great… and he had finally grown to like the stuff, and the flavor of it that she liked, too… And then, thankfully, he’d been alright.

If Shiki started losing it so that she couldn’t help now, she would never again get to heal Neku, or share more of her favorite flavors with him.

So, she had to do something!

Shiki no longer had Mr. Mew on her… she had given him to Tsugumi for her to use as a psych—as she’d had an even harder time finding a psych she could use than Shiki had—when it had seemed that she might be able to save Shinjuku in those early days… but she hadn’t gotten him back since Tsugumi had been lost.

But still… Shiki thought she could probably use some other psychs now, like telekinesis, if she had to.

She thought about calling Joshua for aid here… but Shiki feared that his hands were tied with the Higher Plane on this one. And if he was going to help Neku, he was probably already doing it or would have done so by now.

So, Shiki couldn’t waste time on that.

Instead… she prepared to run all over Shibuya to find Neku, if need be, but instead ended up going to the Scramble (so close to her and Neku’s home), which was pretty much right where she and Neku had met: since Hachiko Statue was right there.

Somehow, Shiki had known Neku would be there… and her instincts had been absolutely right about that.

Neku looked exhausted, worn down, and beaten, as he knelt on one of the Scramble Crossing’s many crosswalks now… All of the Players and Reapers fighting him must have really taken a toll on him, Shiki thought despairing and empathizing with Neku immediately.

And Tsugumi was about to erase Neku!

Shiki didn’t even think about what to do then!

She thought she saw a blond boy worrying with a certain pin, but she couldn’t process that now. Instead, she dove in the way of Neku and Tsugumi (holding him tightly as he shook, after she’d just saved him).

And after she got her bearings, Shiki very swiftly snatched her Mr. Mew from Tsugumi’s grip, synced up with Neku—and how she adored, that even now… that he was able to do that with her; if that didn’t show what they were to each other, she didn’t know what would—and did a level three fusion with him once more.

And once everyone was distracted by the laser show Mr. Mew was putting on with his eyes, Shiki grabbed Neku’s hand and ran.

Somehow, some way… she discovered she had a new psych like Neku did, as they sped away—that must have been activated the times Joshua tuned her back and forth—because Shiki could mess with their frequencies!

And for now, she got them both to the RG: Neku holding her and kissing her body all over in thanks and worship, as she did so.

She could breathe again.

And Shiki knew that their perfect life together would continue on… thank God or the Composer, she thought, grinning ear to ear and kissing him back.

Author’s Note: So, this is based on how after Tsugumi erases Beat or whatever… if you look closely, there’s a pair of white shoes that walk towards him afterwards.

And tbh… I was mostly certain that Hoodie was going to be Beat, and he was, but just for fun, I let myself imagine it was Neku or could have been him on this day. And I thought those shoes could have been Shiki coming to save him (because I thought they looked like the shoes she wore at the end of TWEWY, but now I think I’m just crazy). I also thought it might have been Rhyme coming to try and rescue Beat, but I doubt that, too. It was probably just Tsugumi walking or something.

But this whole story is based on that first fun AU idea. And that’s also why it ends right when Shiki saves Neku/when we see those shoes walking towards him or whatever.

Hope you all enjoyed!

And the medicine thing, is based on how… I think Neku didn’t like certain medicines in TWEWY? Or maybe none of them? Shiki liked one of them, though (I think). So, that’s what that whole thing is based on. I wanted it to be food, but I couldn’t find a canon food that Shiki liked that Neku disliked, that he could have changed his mind about for her, so this it was.

And it's NeShiki Day! I actually didn't think I would write this for NeShiki Day (I had something else done). And I just wanted to write tonight, and I didn't know where it would lead me. But, hey. It's NeShiki right on NeShiki Day. I think it's only right I share it for that day!:)

[crazyclonefan]

A chance to say goodbye

I wrote this right after tcw 7 finale and completely forgot to post it. Oops. 

Very angsty. 

Summary: It took Kix a long time to get used to the idea that nothing he once knew existed anymore. He meets Ahsoka and she takes him to the snowy planet where Jesse died.

It took Kix a long time to get used to the idea that nothing he once knew existed anymore. That the Republic being replaced by the Empire. His brothers fought and died for three long years for nothing. They all became toys in the hands of the cruel Emperor. That the war ended with the destruction of the Jedi Order. That while he was sleeping, the Empire fell under the onslaught of the rebels and in its place the New Republic was born. And that fifty years have passed since the separatists kidnapped him.

Fifty years ... Kix felt completely devastated when he learned of this. Waking up from stasis, he hoped it wasn't too late to prevent a catastrophe. That he could prove to General Skywalker that Fives was right and that the Chancellor was really up to something terrible. But ... He was late. Hopelessly late. There was no more Republic to warn, and no more brothers he desperately wanted to save. The realization that he was the last clone tore his heart apart.

It hurt Kix to think of his brothers. But it was especially hard from the unknown. How did Jesse die? Did he obey Order 66 and become a stormtrooper, or did he die long before that? What happened to Rex? Did he decide to remove the chip, or did he obey the order and kill General Skywalker? What happened to Echo and the Bad Batch? A lot of questions were spinning in his head, but he had no answer to any of them. But the most painful thing was to realize that he could not say goodbye to any of them.

He was grateful to the pirates of the Crimson Corsair, even if they helped him out of selfish motives. The destruction of the old bases of the separatists helped him to feel like a soldier of the Grand Army of the Republic again. A republic that will no longer appreciate his efforts. But when was it different? But that was the only goal that helped him move on.

  What will happen when the last base is destroyed? Kix didn't want to think about it. Kix tried not to think about the future at all. Fifty years ago, life was much simpler and clearer. He was a soldier who took care of the health of his brothers and the general. He fought for peace and saved lives. Did he think about the future then? Of course yes. But in those dreams of the future, there were always brothers by his side, and he did not feel so painfully lonely. The future now seemed like something cold and hopeless.

***

Another planet where pirates wanted to sell their loot. Another cantina where Kix wanted to get drunk so as not to think about anything. And as always, he only felt worse.

"Kix?"

Kix froze at the familiar voice. He turned around and faced the surprised blue eyes. If their owner hadn't touched his shoulder, Kix wouldn't have believed it was true. He hadn't expected to see Ahsoka Tano alive.

Fifty years ago, Ahsoka Tano was a child. She was cocky, smiling and brave. He trusted her with his back more than he could count. Kix remembered her this way and mourned her death along with General Skywalker.

    The woman in front of him didn't look like that child. Her face was adorned with wrinkles, her montrals and lekku were much longer than before, and her eyes were full of sadness and surprise. If not for the familiar pattern on her face, he might not recognize her.

"Commander Tano?"

“It's so unusual to hear that title again,” a smile touched her lips. "Since Rex died, no one else has called me that. It happened two and a half years ago."

Something inside him broke. He was late again. If he had been found much earlier, he would have had the opportunity to spend time with the captain ... If only he could have prevented the disaster ...

He spoke and spoke, not paying attention to the flowing tears and the fact that people had already begun to look back at them. He didn't care about anyone but Ahsoka. It was as if he was still somewhere deep down hoping that the information that he learned could save at least someone. Maybe it was so. He didn't know how she survived Order 66, but he certainly didn't want her to believe that his brothers betrayed her of their own accord.

He could have saved everyone if he had been more careful in his investigation. He should have shared this information with Rex much earlier. He had to ... The only thing he could do now is to save at least the memory of them.

Ahsoka also had tears in her eyes as she hugged him tightly.

“I never blamed any of them. None of them wanted this, none of this was their conscious choice. The Emperor did everything so that none of us could stop it. By the time it started, nothing could be fixed. So please don't blame yourself. "

It was weak consolation, but Kix felt a little better. Perhaps at that moment, she used the Force to soothe his pain. Perhaps the reason was that she understood him much better than the pirates of the Crimson Corsair, who never knew his brothers. Ahsoka knew them all. Or perhaps he felt better from the realization that this information, even after fifty years, reached the ears of the Jedi.

When Ahsoka finally released him, Kix finally braced himself to ask the question that had tormented him for a long time.

"Did Rex tell you how ... how Jesse died?"

Ahsoka nodded, her eyes downcast.

"Follow me, I'll tell you along the way. It's a long story and I don't want anyone else to listen to us."

***

She spoke only when the ship went into hyperspace. Kix could see how hard it was for her to think about it, but it was what both of them needed. What he personally needed. All this time, while he was tormented by the unknown, Kix imagined all sorts of options for what could happen to Jesse and the others. But he did not suspect that what actually happened would be much worse.

She talked about the siege of Mandalore and what happened on the Republic cruiser when Darth Sidious ordered her to be executed. How Rex gave her a clue, how she removed his chip, and how Jesse fought them despite the ship falling apart.

It was unbearable to know that Jesse was a victim of the chip. Jesse would never point a blaster at Rex, whom he respected with all his heart. Kix remembered exactly how Tap had behaved when his chip crashed. And he was horrified by the very thought that Jesse was trapped in his own head, repeating just one phrase that controlled him like some droid. Good soldiers always follow orders. Even if this order was to kill your own brother ...

Jesse was a good soldier and a great friend. He had a great sense of humor and always gave good advice. He was a man! A human, not a meat droid. And he deserved the best. All his brothers deserved a better fate than what the emperor condemned them to.

Kix could feel his head spinning and his heart breaking in pain. It could have been different if only he had not been so weak then. If only he hadn't drawn Count Dooku's attention to himself ...

The old, shattered Venator lay on the planet's surface as a memorial to the fallen Republic and its loyal soldiers.

Time took its toll. Snow wrapped his brothers in a thick white blanket, allowing only a few of their helmets to look out. They looked at him indifferently with the darkness of their visors, forgotten and alone, like the entire era of the Jedi. Like the Republic they once fought for.

Ahsoka touched his shoulder and quietly returned to the ship, leaving him alone with his pain. Kix was grateful to her for that.

 Having dug up the snow a little, he saw what he was looking for. He lifted Jesse's helmet and ran his fingers over the nearly faded Republic symbol at its base. Jesse did his best to make this symbol visible once he became an ARC-trooper.

Kix could not help remembering how Jesse had been bragging to all the brothers for a whole week about his new armor and the fact that he was now an ARC-trooper. It was very funny for the first couple of days, and then Kix would just roll his eyes when Jesse started talking about it again. He was so proud to be promoted to lieutenant and become an ARC-trooper!

He was one of the most loyal soldiers of the Republic and took pride in his service. This is what this symbol was supposed to represent.

        Kix couldn't hold back his tears when he saw the burns and abrasions that the helmet received, probably after the ship fell. He didn’t want to think about what his friend was experiencing and what Jesse was thinking in his last minutes, and whether he could think about anything other than a damn order in general. Was he afraid of death at this moment? Did he die quickly, without feeling anything, or did he suffer before he died?

Jesse always did what he thought was right. This is why he agreed with Fives' plan on Umbara, which is why he did so many good things. He shouldn't have died like this, a limp puppet in the hands of the emperor, wanting to kill his own brother and Commander Tano.

Kix pressed his forehead against Jesse's helmet, finally being able to say goodbye to his best friend properly. With a friend whom he actually doomed to a terrible death. If only he could tell about the conspiracy before he was captured ... If only he was not so weak and captured by the droids ... If ... Jesse and Rex would not have to go through all of this. Their brothers would not have to die in vain. And Rex would not have been plagued by guilt all his life, burying all the brothers he ever loved.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, hoping desperately that Jesse would hear him on the other side. "Forgive me, brother."

    The last time they saw each other, Jesse was filled with hope for the future. They both dreamed of getting drunk in '79, once the war was over. How they will stick together and will definitely find something to do in a new peaceful life. Kicks wondered what Jesse was thinking when he suddenly disappeared without giving any reason.

"Sleep well, Jesse... I'll see you on the other side."

Kix forced himself to leave Jesse's helmet in the snow where his body rested. He did not find the strength to separate them. This place has been a monument to the Grand Army of the Republic for these long fifty years and should remain so in the future. Someday he, too, will be under this snow next to his brothers.

***

The way back to Felucia went in silence. Kix felt devastated. He was grateful to Ahsoka for not trying to convince him again that everything that happened was not his fault. Whatever she said, he could never forgive himself after what he saw today.

"What do you intend to do next?" She asked when the ship finally landed in port.

“I don’t know,” Kix replied honestly, wiping his eyes. “Back to the Crimson Corsair's team.

He must finish what he started. There were still two bases that he needed to destroy. In memory of Jesse and all those brothers who stayed on that snowy moon. In honor of all the clones that died decades ago. What will happen next? Who knows. He'll think about it later.

“If you are sure of this, then I have no right to stop you.” Ahsoka smiled at him. “But if you ever get tired of being a pirate, let me know. I know people who will welcome a skilled soldier. "

"I'll think about it," Kix found the strength to smile. - "But I have to finish what I started."

Ahsoka nodded in understanding and rubbed her chin thoughtfully, looking somewhere behind Kix. Merry sparks lit up in her eyes.

"Do you mind if I join you? Destroying Separatist bases sounds like an interesting idea."

“How can I refuse you, Commander?” Kix's smile was sincere this time. “Only one condition. Don't throw me with the Force like you used to do with Captain Rex. "

Ahsoka laughed.

"I will try to resist the temptation."

He saw before him the old Ahsoka Tano now. For some reason, his soul became a little calmer. For the first time in these long months, he could finally think about his future, and it no longer seemed so lonely.

  He knew he could not forgive himself or bring his brothers back. But he can still do something for them. He will live honoring their memory for as long as he can. Until one day meet them again.

[pale-goblin]

A little Twisted (Chapter 3)

Chapter One: The King | Chapter Two: The Collection | Chapter Three: Pet

Co written w/ @desertdwellerdanny

Steve had spent most of the night cutting the body into pieces and burying different parts of it in the woods since it was Billy’s first kill; Steve decided not to put it on display for the world to see it.

It took hours of cutting, hacking at flesh, driving, and digging; Steve was exhausted.

Working a full day’s work than covering up a murder was a lot for a Tuesday night. Steve had called in sick at work just before hopping into the shower, washing the dried blood and dirt from his skin. He would have to burn all their clothes and clean his car, but it was a task for later.

Now, though, he had an anomaly getting ready to sleep in his guest bedroom. It was late, but as he walked in, muddy boots and reddened shirt, Billy stepped out of his room to stare. He stood quietly, leaning against the doorframe of the room and taking in Steve’s state of dishevelment. “Thank you.”

Steve had just finished leaving the voice mail for his father, seeing Billy standing there in his shirt to cover up the scars that lined his body. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Steve asked as he slid his phone back into his pocket, removing the leather gloves he was wearing, caked in mud.

Billy shrugged, head tilting onto the frame, too. “Heard you come in.”

Steve stared at Billy for a bit, wondering if he even slept while he was gone. "You should sleep," Steve mumbled as he walked into his bedroom.

He heard footsteps behind him as Billy followed after, quick on his heels. “What’d you do to him? Did you feed him to dogs?”

Steve let out a sigh as he removed his blood-stained t-shirt. "I cut up his body into pieces and spread it all over Hawkins Forest far away from here."

Billy was quiet behind him. Steve turned, expecting a shocked or horrified expression but instead found Billy’s lips pulling into a small smile. “You’re fuckin genius,” he paused, “what about his fingerprints? They do that now, y'know. Seen it on the news.”

Maybe having someone under his wing wasn't as fun as he thought. Steve rubbed his eyes before placing his shirt in the bag of other clothes he needed to burn. 

"Fingerprints are only good if they have a criminal record," Steve groaned, grabbing Billy’s hand tracing cuts with his fingers "but, you can use a knife and cut open the fingertips here and here."

Billy’s eyebrows pulled together, looking down at their joined hands, “How do you know he doesn’t have a criminal record? I doubt I was the first he tried to attack. He was a sinner.”

"I know a cop; he gives me access to records sometimes…" Steve held onto Billy's hand, not really wanting to let go of his soft skin. "Listen, criminal justice sucks; guys like me don't get caught, guys like him, same thing." 

“I caught him,” Billy said quietly, focusing on the gentle drag of Steve’s skin on his, the touch oddly anchoring, “He’s never going to hurt anyone ever again because of me.”

Steve chuckled; Billy could hear the exhaustion in the back of Steves’s throat. "You’re doing their job for them.”

“Maybe. If they did it themselves, I wouldn’t have to.” Billy hummed, reaching up to lightly push at Steve’s chest, “You’re tired.”

Steve lost his footing, exhaustion pulling at his limbs and nearly falling over. “Well, stop asking so many questions.” Steve groaned, giving him an equally as gentle push back before walking to the bathroom. God, he needed a shower.

“It’s exciting.” Billy shrugged, not moving much from the push, “And you look good covered in blood anyway.” 

Steve stopped in the doorway, placing his hand on the frame as he looked back at Billy with a smirk. “I know.”

The sheer confidence, the grin that felt like Billy was trapped in a feral wolf, it ignited something in him. He didn’t get the chance to act on it, though, Steve winking and closing the door firmly behind him.

“Get some sleep, Billy,” Steve called from the other side of the door as he started the shower, craving the heat to soothe his aching muscles.

Billy could hear the water running through the house’s pipes, the only other sound in his room being the crickets outside of his window. He was tucked up under the covers, mind carefully replaying the night’s events in his head while the fan spun in a comforting whirl above him.

He was officially, undeniably, a murderer. The odd thing was that he didn’t feel particularly bad about it—if anything, Billy felt that he did something good. The murder was warranted. If he hadn’t killed that man, he’d have just found another slew of victims. At least this way, Billy gave the man a chance to be redeemed, to die and repent.

Sleep pulled at his eyelids, the emotional and physical upheaval of today taking its toll on him. Billy tugged gently on the St. Julian the Hospitaller pendant he always kept around his neck and turned to bury himself further into the sheets. Everything was taken care of, Steve having finished tying up loose ends, so there really wasn’t much more to do than sleep. Billy had done a good thing tonight.

Steve had woken up to himself, grinding his hips into the mattress, his cock hard and aching. He usually only woke up like this after taking a life, not cleaning up like some housekeeper. 

A groan escaped his lips as his hips had a mind of their own moving into the mattress at a steady pace. Why did he feel like this? What was about last night that left him so wanting? Steve thought about Billy, the smile, and how perfect he looked, covered in blood. 

The way Billy's eyes shined with that primal need when Steve was covered in the same blood. Fuck. Steve let out a moan--already so close to the edge without even touching himself. He buried his face into his pillow, trying to muffle the groans as he came thinking of him, of Billy. What was wrong with him. Before Steve could put much thought into it, his doorbell rang, and his head shot up FUCK. 

Steve jumped out of bed, nearly falling over in the surprise of someone coming here at all. He ripped off his boxers and cleaned up the mess of slick cum off himself. Too bad he didn’t get to enjoy it more than he had. 

BUZZ

“Fuck I’m coming” Steve threw on his housecoat hanging behind his door, ready for moments like these. He jogged down the hall, trying to rush so the noise didn’t wake his sleeping doll in the guest room. 

“Open the door, Dingus!” A voice called on the other side--Robin. “Ugh, the timing,” Steve groaned; having to put on his human “mask” was annoying when he had barely slept. He opened the door seeing her holding coffee and donuts in her hands. 

“Wow, you look like shit” She laughed,

“What are you doing here?” Steve whispered, still trying to be quiet. The last thing he wanted was Billy to meet his work life. “I heard you called in sick, so did I,” Robin pushed through him to get into the house--which annoyed the fuck out of Steve--but he forced a laugh, trying to keep up appearances.

Steve heard the quiet creaking of floorboards behind him, the slightest indication that Billy was, in fact up but hadn’t come out quite yet. Maybe checking that this wasn’t the police squad coming to send him away. Robin was still blissfully unaware, until the blond curled menace himself stepped out in little else but a pair of boxers and one of Steve’s shirts he had borrowed the night prior.

“And who is this gorgeous little lady?” Billy purred, cocky confidence in each step he took toward them. Fucking hell, this is a disaster.

When Robins’s attention was moved to Billy, Steve glared at him, his face changing from a puppy dog back to the cold hard stare Billy was used to. “Oh, Robin, Steve’s coworker” She pushed the tray of coffees into Steve’s hand. “Who might you be?” Her voice was dripping with curiosity, which sparked some kind of jealous burn in Steve’s chest for some reason.

“A nobody that showed your coworker a good time,” he paused, smouldering eyes on her, “Robin,” Billy repeated, the name said with obvious promise.

Robin raised her eyebrow at Billy when she looked back at Steve, who just looked ever so confused. Honestly, Billy’s idea was flawless, and Steve was pretty proud of him for coming up with a cover-up story on the fly like that. “You fucked this idiot?” Robin pointed at Steve, who looked offended as all hell. “Hey, what the hell do you mean!” Steve slapped her hand away. “You're just jealous I can get laid!” “Oh, don’t go there, Steve!” Robin gasped, “You know I just broke up with Tammy!”

Billy’s eyes flicked between the two—lingering on Steve and his rather abrupt personality change. There was a silent exchange between the two of them before Billy turned his attention back to Robin and gave a salacious grin, “I did actually fuck that idiot, thank you. Or rather, he fucked me. He’s a charmer.”

Steve swallowed hard at just the thought; with how his morning went, it's all he could really think about. "Thank you…" Steve said submissively, giving Robin a shy smile

Robin laughed, “Well, either way," Robin pulled out her coffee from the tray and handed the coffee to Billy. "Here—a coffee. I'm going to go because this is getting weird." 

Steve let out a sigh of relief. "I'll see you tomorrow at work; thanks for everything."

Billy snorted a laugh, nodding his chin at her in thanks as she gave another wave and tease before leaving. He didn’t say much, turning back to Steve, taking a sip of the coffee, and raising his eyebrows in silent question.

After Steve closed the door, he rested his head on it, “Thank you for doing that” Steve looked over at him back to his blank stare that somehow had a little more life in it now that Billy had seen him mask himself.

“What—for pretending to know who the fuck you just acted like or for telling her I let you fuck me?” He took another amused sip of coffee, cocking his hip out.

Steve smiled; seeing Billy enjoy himself was very cute. “Both really, you just gave yourself an alibi.” Steve walked over to his couch, placing the donuts box on the table and taking a long drink of his coffee. He really did feel like shit.

“That was my original plan last night anyway. Getting fucked,” Billy hummed, nudging Steve over before sitting down on the arm of the couch and gingerly poking at Steve’s cheek, “You look like you haven’t slept in three years.”

Steve looked at him, just totally ignoring Billy poking fun at his looks. "Do you mean with me or just in general?"

Billy pressed his lips together in an attempt to poorly hide a smile, “In general. That’s why I went to the bar. Why? Did you want me to mean you?”

Steve took another sip of coffee, unsure he wanted to just out himself over wanting that really badly. "I'm naked under this robe, and I need to clean my sheets," Steve mumbled as he got up to leave.

This time Billy did laugh—loud and unabashed. He whipped out a hand and wrapped it tightly around Steve’s wrist, keeping him from leaving the conversation. “Oh really? Why naked? Why clean your sheets?” The wolfish grin on Billy’s face told Steve he knew precisely why.

"Let go," Steve said sharply; he didn't want to admit that he lost any type of control over himself.

Billy’s grin only got sharper, “Why?”

"I don't need to tell you why" Steve pulled his wrist, trying to get Billy to break the hold, but the blonde tightened his grip.

“But don’t you want to?” Billy hummed, putting his coffee down on the table and scooting closer in, a wild look in his eye like he was waiting for Steve to lash out. To get the real Steve Harrington after seeing him pretend to be someone so different.

 Steve did want to, and he honestly couldn't put his finger on why Billy made him lose control like this. Steve was good at deflecting things onto other people, and he had a plan to do it, but what came out of his mouth was not what he meant. 

"You don't want to have sex with me; I will ruin you." good job, Harrington.

“Maybe that’s exactly why I want to have sex with you.”

Steve stared into Billy's eyes, thinking about how maybe Billy would be okay. He already knows what Steve, the honest Steve and he's killed, someone…

"Still no—we’re not having sex.”

Billy let go of his arm, a red imprint left on his pale skin just from the grip he had. Maybe it’ll bruise. Perhaps he wants it to bruise.

“Yet.”

Steve rolled his eyes at Billy's overconfidence in that statement. It was rare he ever had sex, honestly; he had been going on two years of nothing but his hand. It didn't really bug him—until now. 

"Are you always like this?" Steve asked; it probably sounded ruder than he meant. "Ever since I helped you, it's all you seem to want to do is fuck me."

He just shrugged in response, “You helped me. You’re hot. I slept here, and you didn’t take advantage of me.”

Steve laughed, "I see; well, you don't have to do whatever this is." Taking a sip of his coffee.

Billy raised an eyebrow at him, “Don’t act like that’s not the whole reason you did it. It’s okay—I’m telling you you can fuck me.”

"You think I covered up a whole murder to fuck you?" Steve let out a disappointing sigh, "I did it because I want someone to teach and share my fucking hobby with! I'm tired of pretending to be normal, and you were interesting and fearless. I see myself in you, and I want to share this...gift."

This time it seemed he’d finally gotten through to Billy, his eyebrows pulling up in confusion and that pushy demeanour of his temporarily forgotten. “We can do that again? Do you want to do that again? With me?” He leant back, eyeing Steve, “I won’t kill for fun. They have to deserve it.”

Steve nodded, "Yes, I do, but it won't be for a while" Steve decided his sheets would wait and flopped on the couch, “and I need a nap…"

Billy slid down from his perch on the arm of the couch, lifting Steve’s legs to set on his lap. He reached over to pick his coffee back up and a donut. “Then take one. You deserve it.” Steve reached over to place his coffee on the table. "I still have stuff to do, though," Steve groaned.

“Like what? I’ll help.”

Steve looked over at Billy. "There is a bag of clothes from the two of us I need to burn, and I have to clean out my car."

“Easy. I’ll do it, and you can come to check your car in case I forgot something,” he nudged one of his feet, “You gotta sleep first, though. Or else you’ll miss all those pesky details.”

Steve kind of felt touched? No—happy that Billy wanted to do some of the small details for him. Maybe they would make a good team. But of course, Steve wouldn’t say that to Billy’s face just yet. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry, old man, I clean up nice,” he joked, wiggling out from under Steve and stealing another donut on his way to where he’d seen him leave the cleaning supplies from last night. It shouldn’t be too hard...

Steve grabbed one of the throw pillows on the couch and put it under his head. He felt a little less on edge about getting everything done before cops started looking for someone to pin down for the murder.

He watched Billy leave, deep throating another doughnut before getting out of his view. Fuck, it was nice to have such a good pet.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Wendigo x Human Male (Amara)

- Stay safe everyone -

Female monster x human male

WARNING: Mentions of blood and gore, death, swearing and injury.

The Cold Always Bites

The cold had bitten at your features throughout the journey you had taken outside, until you were certain the frostbite had taken over the control of your fingers and toes, leaving your skin blue and black.

It wouldn’t take long before you would be taken by the cold, the wintery cold that was present in the northern air of the town you had settled in: your guide, a guy named Egil, was one of the many rough and rugged settlers who had lived there in a town with less than 400 people.

When he had shown you to your small cabin quarters, he was quick to tell you of the layout of the land, where to go, where not to go, and the best place to go to get a bite to eat. With that, he was out of existence as quickly as he had appeared.

You didn’t think much of it, a town not remotely happy and welcoming to visitors and outsiders, you weren’t sceptical to receive open arms and warm smiles.

The town and its people matched the outside; cold and brittle.

You had ventured out day and all to through to the night, blanketed by the fog of misty twilight, the frozen winds bit at your skin, making it feel on fire. The days grew thinner whilst the nights grew long, and with what you were looking for from years of studying, you knew your hopes were dwindling.

Your chances of discovering the secret population of wolves and other animals that hid within the woods were dwindling thanks to the rural hosing of the settler’s homes; the chance of finding something before its existence vanished.

There was the talk of their whereabouts festering in the woods, and that was where you ventured out each day, and when you returned, you were closer to giving up.

The fifth day into your travels, you were further out than you had wanted to go out, the light from the grey sun was retreating, and you were facing the growing darkness mixed with the winds of snow and ice break your guidance to get back before you got lost.

You could say you got lost very quickly, with not knowing how you would get back. Shelter, you needed shelter, no matter if it was a 5s-star hotel that had miraculously appeared in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere or some sticks for a roof, you needed somewhere to hide from the winds.

Years of hunting with your father and brothers had been most useful for a situation like this: sheltering from the icy cold, not as much. But to build a shelter from scratch was an easier task than to be left out in nature’s habitat without one.

You looked around your area as best as you could, looking as far as your eyes could over the odd trees that looked like haunting gaunt silhouettes, over the blizzard as it hardened with rage.

Your only hope was to go into what looked like an opening to a cave: its hollow exterior made you think its protection wasn’t safe inside, possibly it could collapse, but your hopes were dwindling faster the more you were out there in the open.

You trudged through the snow to your knees, your bones were completely numb and so were your fingers and joints, and soon you knew the frost would come in quick to freeze them over if you didn’t warm up quickly.

Your clothes were thinner than usual - soaked through with mud caked to you like a new layer of skin.

You got into the opening, just shy away from being blinded by the storm to blink back to see your surroundings. There were a larger gap and space that dropped down not too far from where you were, and where you were and leant over, you couldn’t see how far the drop was or what was at the bottom.

Your head had been craned back, your attention on what was behind you, and when you looked through, the cave walls were slick and sharp, blackened with what could be described as someone rubbing soot along the walls for decades.

Maybe I could start a fire, before the cold creeps back in. You thought, judging silently how you would make your descent down into the hollow abyss. The sounds you heard: the sound of dripping water coming from everywhere, the harsh echoes of your feet scraping against the stoned ground, you knew this was no place fit for humans.

You braced yourself against the ledge, years of crafting and working in the wilderness had given you a rough physique, helpful for you to keep you strong, but even still the attempt to descend further down without equipment was questionable, if not downright careless.

A sound resounded from behind you, tingling up your back and sending shivers down the back of it, a skittish sound of something running past you to hide. Your eyes turned back too late, your hand misguiding a rock and slipping from its grasp, and you lurched forward suddenly, all bodyweight rocking you forward; leaving you scrambling for the cave rock for stability.

Your body had leant too far forward, and the wall was out of your reach, and before long, you could see the view perfectly from upside down, the ground that you couldn’t see was now quickly coming up to meet your falling body.

You grunted, squeezing your eyes shut when you made contact with whatever you thought would kill you, an immediate pain surging through the back of you and reaching towards your legs, and your mind searched to question whether you had been paralysed or broken your legs from the collision.

You grunted in surprise, rolling around in agony: the searing pain that spread like wildfire across your skin. You slowly squinted your eyes open, looking around the area as you stared down the gaping darkness - a pain seeping below you.

When you looked down, the realisation to what was sticking into you, the heavy toll of your mortality staring back at you through an unexpected stack of bones scattered around you.

Is this where I shall die? Stuck in a place like this? Your eyes felt heavy with tears, something slick to your face as you slowly tried to sit up, before standing to your feet.

When you had gone to touch your back, you had retracted your fingers, and upon looking down, your back was oily and coated, with sweat at first, but you knew sweat wasn’t crimson red.

You grimaced, eyes growing heavy as something lulled you to fall to the cluttered ground of bones, the sharper edges sticking into your flesh, the heavy feeling of both being watched and the morbid dread fell across you like a heavy lead curtain.

Through the empty caverns of below, you could hear even your heartbeat race to your eardrums: the sound of something once against hurrying past through the darkness brought your head to look back with the knowledge that there was some sort of animal down here.

The sounds were clear as if it was hauling itself across the sea of bones, larger than you could imagine. A bear came to mind, and its hideout seemed plausible. Whatever it was, it sounded big, and it was growing closer to you.

An audible crunch from the bones came from your far right, as when you looked, a part of the chasm wall opened up from what you could see that blended in with the rest of the darkness; the outline of something emerging out to you.

There was something so human about the outline of this thing: the shape of it and how it moved with a bowed back, your mind went to initially it then being a hermit living in the caves, a cannibal hermit who lived off of eating ungodly amounts of creatures and had never seen another individual in decades, but the more that emerged, the more you realised - you were more or less wrong.

A raspy moan came from its long neck and head, its face hollow and gaunt like the rest of its lithe body, how you spotted, its skin was grey, matted and rubbery in places. There was a cascade of black tresses attached to its head, spots of it missing with a noticeable fracture in the creature’s skull at the front of its forehead.

You could see its head properly through the sable abyss: how its head peered at you and snarled like a wild animal, long bent arms scrapping at everything as it parted through the bones like a boat through the water, its skeleton body made you take notice of how it moved rigidly, like a gargoyle.

It snarled and howled, wailing and contorting at your presence, and you spotted the sharp nails attached to the fingernails, blackened and some fallen off from the cold, there were chunks of something attached underneath the nail, and your stomach fell into a bottomless pit of queasiness.

Its face was horrifying: so thin with sunken cheeks, there were two twisted horns in its head, growing like trees trunks as if they had been growing and mutated, the creature looked at you with eyes a pale milky blue; eyes that looked frosted over.

Eyes more so than just bitter, they looked pained, woeful. Your heart sensed a prang for it, and you could believe it might’ve been female from its slender shape, but you weren’t exactly sure still what you were looking at. You were sure you were looking at a very emaciated young woman who had been mutated to look like this, but you were sure this wasn’t normal.

You retreated away from its pacing, hitting the wall behind you with some expectancy. “Erm, hello?” You found your voice, strained and hoarse.

“Get out.” The creature lurched forward, snapping its broken sharp teeth at you, its sunken cheeks chittering. “Before I hunt you down.” Its voice was detached and raspy, nothing to resemble proper human talk, but it was still fascinatingly terrifying to know how it knew your language.

“I would, but I got in trouble... I fell here, and I may be injured, erm.” You wavered, your head looking up for emphasis. The creature’s large head swayed, following the direction you had come down from accidentally.

You continued, watching its movements. “The cold, the storm I was getting away from, I was lost.”

“Lost?” Its teeth chattered against one another, clanking they connected, and you remembered the times in biology when someone had gotten the skull and moved the teeth together to make it speak. “No-one gets lost on purpose. Unless they want to be found.”

“I know, I just...” you winced when you moved once more, and they caught notice of your face scrunching up in discomfort. Their clouded eyes trailed from your face to your hand covered in blood, and sniffing the air like a hound, they crawled closer to you.

“You bleed.” Its voice warbled along the thin air.

“Yeah,” You didn’t know whether it was a question, but it would’ve been obvious by now that the bones had been the ones too of brought you your injury, “I guess I do.”

The creature, trailed just below your feet, looking to it, slowly not doing anything but stare with a sunken and haunting look. “I erm, I need to get out of here. Get back home.”

“You can’t.” It whispered lowly. “No-one can leave, no escape.”

Your hear fell in your chest, as you staggered to grip at the wall with your shaking hands. “There must be a way somehow... I can’t just die here!” They'll get a search and rescue out for me by the morning, the people can’t be too naïve to know when someone goes missing, can they?

“How do I get out?” You asked, once more, desperate, turning your back as you looked back over the tall walls that loomed over you. “Everything dies, what is wrong with that?” Its voice hangs through the air with little emotion nor surprise or your situation.

You could feel the situation begin to loom over you as the walls did, and you were panicking from the sheer thought of being stuck here. “Oh, is that what happened to you here, huh? You just decided to fucking wander in here and die?” Your voice bitterly questioned, the denial settling in.

The lanky creature did no speak at first, but it just watched. “I remember my death, how I died. Here.” It pointed to the large skull, where the crack laid on its bloodied skin. “I fell, I think.”

Your questions kept coming. “What was your name, if you know?”

It pondered philosophically. “I think... we were called Amara.”

You wanted to laugh at the thought, that this was once a human being, but it didn’t all make sense. If she had died, she would be dead, not this thing-

Your eyes widened in realisation, the realisation of what she was. “You’re a wendigo. But they don’t fucking exist!”

‘Amara’ snarled once more at you, leaning in close that she breathed hotly against the back of your neck. With little effort, she grabbed you by the bend of your elbow, lifting you with ease into the air until your feet kicked from the short height.

She sniffed once more at your bloodied shirt, pulling it up so the wound was clear to see. “They were the same, they came and waited.” Her mouth came closer to your skin until you felt her teeth graze against you. “We all were.” Before giving a long lick from the bottom to the top, not missing a part that had been covered in blood.

You grimaced in the pain, the stinging of her saliva and how she held you like a ragdoll, you thought by now, you would be dead; maybe that’s what the bodies are, they’re humans too, not just animals.

You didn’t want to believe this creature was something of folklore, or starvation and the cold, these wendigos resulted in cannibalism. And it seemed you would be next.

‘Amara’ smelled once more at your current situation, before looking bringing you down once more to the ground with little effort, your body stuttering backwards from the force. You gawked up through the darkness of the cave, watching cautiously.

The wendigo looked back at you with no more than a look, looking behind her. “Come, there might be a way for you.”

You quickly picked yourself up, bounding up on your feet as you followed her out of the small opening she had looked to of gotten through, and you found yourself crawling through all sorts; entrails, blood and mud, the odour was something more powerful that you don’t know if you would be able to get out of your nostrils.

Amara crawled with the knowledge expertise of the small systems, and it made you wonder how long she had been here for she knew where to go with little effort.

You crawled behind her with some difficulty, trying your best to keep up with her as she suddenly stilled, all movement halting as she looked back on you with expectancy, a look she gave you that made you believe she didn’t believe you would follow.

“Through there,” she nudged with her large head, “your freedom.”

She entered first, letting you come through as you entered the next passage, entirely smaller than the first. The walls were a deep colour in red, slicked crimson and dripping.

You jumped through, entering what was perhaps wheat that had been mixed with blood and made into some sort of concoction to resemble sand.

There wasn’t much in the room, but the stench was more powerful than through that tunnel or in the previous room, and it went through your nostrils straight into your stomach, making you want to empty the meal you had eaten earlier on that day.

“Fuck, what is this place?”

Amara looked on in silence, fascinated at it all. “I opened my eyes and found myself here. It was after I had fallen, but it kept me safe, protected. I hope it would be suited for you.”

You turned to her with your heart thrumming out of your chest, raging in your ears and throat, and when you hadn’t expected to see her standing so close to you, you didn’t know what to await.

“For what I must do, I’m sorry.” Her voice was higher than usual, trembling as if in front of you was the girl who had died a very long time ago, not some monster anyone else would call her.

“What? What the hell do you mean?” You took a step away from her, heart dropping, adrenaline making you believe you could outrun her and flee, but where would you go and how would you get out?

Amara grabbed at your arm once more with her much longer ones, pulling you close to her as you could smell her breathing heavily down on you, the smell of something rotting on her tongue. Without even missing a beat, her large mouth opened, hanging teeth in range as it clamped around your arm with ease, biting down into the flesh like she was a rabid dog.

Your mouth hung open widely, a scream leaving your throat as the pain bubbled over your flesh, aflame. You wriggled and convulsed in her grip, the pain never subduing, and it brought her fangs to sink in deeper towards your arm. Deeper and deeper, the pain seeped, blood spewing out like a fountain as you could feel yourself trying to get out of it, the thought of bleeding out in a place you couldn’t escape was not on your agenda.

“It’s been so long since I ate,” Amara growled around your flesh, tugging on it in hopes of ripping it off the bone, your screams never ceasing. She managed with little effort, and you fell to the ground a little bit lighter, your arm still in her mouth as she ravaged on it with little care.

When you had looked down to the bone, it was clean off, blood dripping out as you laid in horror and silence, the lightheaded feeling beginning to build in your head.

“Stop... please.” You begged as loud as you could your voice, your voice strained and strangled. It hurt and it hurt so fucking much. Amara dropped your severed arm like a dog bored of their toy, crawling their way to hang their large head over you, blood seeping down her hanging maw, down onto your pale flesh.

With no words, Amara grabbed at your head, like it was a football, and with little hesitation, you could feel the edges of your eyes darken. “Forgive me.” And you don’t think you were aware of your head falling over your body like a curtain; darkness ensuing.

[ladyninjaa]

Curvy Girl 2

Imagine: A battle practice with 1-B reveals some interesting things.

Part One

Yaomomo had not been happy for days after the Alpha incident; she was pretty furious but was an expert at hiding it. She wasn’t upset with you, of course, but she did want to know which alphas had tried picking a fight with you but you knew better than to tell her. It caused a stir within the class; a lot of them suggesting a buddy system for you but you scoffed at the idea and gave them a lecture that you could handle yourself but you appreciated the concern. 

Bakugo had been avoiding you since that day and you were thankful. 

Until Aizawa-sensei declared a joint practice with the 1-B class. “You’ll be in groups of two and face off against a duo from 1-B,” Aizawa instructed indifferently and began naming the duos. Of course, it was with your shit luck that you got paired with Bakugo. Bakugo remained pissed off but almost indifferent and you were cursing the gods for this shitty thing. 

Yaomomo was concerned as usual, “Try to be careful around him, Y/N.” She said softly as she eyed Bakugo a few feet away, “I mean, look at how well he worked with Deku.” 

“She’ll be fine, Yaomomo!” Mina blurted out excitedly, “Y/N has a crazy strong quirk, remember? It’ll be so cool watching them fight together as a team!” 

Kyoka nodded with a small smile, “I think so, too. Bakugo knows you aren’t a pushover just because you’re an Omega and he’s an Alpha.” 

“See?” You pat Yaomomo’s bicep, “You don’t have to worry about me, Yaomomo, I’ll handle myself.” Creati sighed and began creating sugary treats to fuel your quirk and you couldn’t help but smile; Yaomomo is so sweet, I kinda wished she was my Alpha, you thought softly to yourself. You were unaware of Bakugo watching with jealous eyes; unaware that he saw that soft, dreamy look as you looked at stupid Ponytail. 

When everyone was paired off, the practice started immediately. You and Bakugo would be group 6 and be facing off against Nieto Monoma and Ibara Shiozaki. It would be a curious and exciting battle and you couldn’t wait to show off your new moves! You were nervous about working with Bakugo but you knew he wouldn’t do anything to fail this practice and neither would you. 

You mustered up some Omega courage and sauntered over to Bakugo, “Ready?” You asked with a grin, “We’re up next.” 

Bakugo grunted, “Stay out of my way, Omega.” He sneered.

A chill ran down your spine but you ignored it, “We’re meant to be working together,” You point out with a soft frown but you weren’t surprised, “Okay, do your thing and I’ll do my best to adapt.” You shrugged not really feeling bothered. 

Bakugo scoffed, “Good luck keeping up.” 

“I can keep up, don’t forget that I’m one of the tops in the class alongside you,” You say heatedly. 

“Just stay the fuck out of my way, idiot,” Bakugo snapped angrily, “I don’t need some Omega to pass this practice!” 

“May I remind you that both of us have to take down one opponent each!” You snarled feeling annoyed; the bad aura between you and Bakugo was rolling off in waves from the both of you and around your class. Yaomomo was watching with increasing worry whilst the rest of the class felt uneasy. 

You and Bakugo were facing each other--both foaming at the mouth and enraged. 

“Y/N,” Yaomomo said softly from behind you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder to calm you down, “Don’t let him get to you.” 

Bakugo’s crimson eyes snapped to her hand and he felt the rage in his heart about to explode; a snarl was on the tip of his tongue. “It’s fine, Yaomomo,” You muttered exhaling angrily, “It won’t happen again.”

Bakugo promptly turned around and stormed off into the nearby foliage; it wasn’t long until the sound of explosions and curses and trees falling came. You tried not to wince but you sighed and rubbed your temple, “He’s so difficult,” You mumbled to Yaomomo and Mina, “I feel a little sorry for his Omega.” 

“Bakugo and Y/N,” Aizawa-sensei called, “You two are next; try not to kill each other.” He said with a sharp voice. 

Neither of you said anything in response; Bakugo too busy raging and you were too busy chanting in your head to respond. You stepped into the arena and across you could see your opponents; you could hear Mononma ranting as well. You rolled your eyes and waited for the signal to sound.

When it did, Bakugo shot off. 

You fixed your hair out of your face and waited for him to pick Ibara or Neito. You were surprised when he went after Ibara and that left you with Neito Monoma. Your eye twitched and you muttered, “Fucking asshole,” Of course he would be a dick and leave you to fight Neito, “But I’ll show that idiot.” 

You were quick to move in on Monoma as he was busy taunting and mocking Bakugo for picking Ibara as his target; Monoma dodged your large wall of crystal swiftly and turned his glacial blue eyes on you. “Well, if it isn’t the Omega of 1-A!” He laughed with a sneer and you threw sharp shards of crystal at him but he used Bakugo’s quirk to dodge them easily, “Wow, I’m so scared!” He laughed loudly. 

You felt your hand twitch and crystal began forming under your foot and shot out to encase Monoma’s foot, but Monoma used his classmate’s hardening quirk to break free and charged at your with another one of his classmate’s quirk. It was hard fighting Monoma due to his Quirk and his running mouth, it honestly didn’t know when to shut up.

You both classes and fought wildly; you weren’t the most elegant fighter but you weren’t to be underestimated. You were top five in 1-A for a reason. Ibara hadn’t lasted long against Bakugo and the angry blonde was off to the side watching the fight with narrowed eyes. 

Monoma was beginning to tire; using different quirks took a toll on his body. You smirked darkly and began to apply more pressure as you switched from defense to offense and Monoma vice versa, but Monoma had only used up four quirks out of the five he could copy so, you had to be careful.

“I heard some things about you,” Monoma taunted after exchanging blows; there was blood from where you punched him in the mouth earlier, “I wanted to ask you if they were true,” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as the both of you faced off.

You sneered, “And what is that?” 

“That you open those Omega legs for any Alpha,” A cruel smirk appeared on his face as you flinched, “That you particularly like to be pleased by that girl Alpha.” That was hitting below the belt; questioning an Omega’s integrity was disgusting. Bakugo felt his rage rise as he watched the horrified look on your pretty face.  

Monoma struck.

A giant wave of crystal slammed into you. It sent you flying across the arena with a cry. You felt your body impact with the ground and you rolled over a few times disorientated. Monoma was incoming as he laughed, “I feel so bad for your Alpha!” He cackled darkly, “Having such a slut of an Omega!” 

“Shut up!” You screamed--the sheer power of your scream sent a wave of crystal through the arena; it sent Monoma tripping over his feet by the force of it. You shot forward and pinned him down under a slab of crystal on his chest. You stood on top of it seeing him through the clear pastel crystal and applied pressured on his chest. Angry tears ran down your eyes, “You’re a piece of shit, Neito Monoma,” You snarled as you cradled your broken arm against your chest and he struggled to breathe, “And it’s you that I pity and your Omega.” You spat at him as you heard Aizawa call your name to let Monoma go. 

“Say that to my face again,” You snarled fiercely, “And your Omega won’t have an Alpha!”

You were hauled off into Recovery Girl’s office immediately; your classmates unable to interact with you as you were swept away too quickly. One thing was clear, the whole class was fuming. To say such cruel things to an Omega and in the eye of teachers supervising the fights was cowardly. Recovery gasped when you turned up at her office and immediately got to work but before she could get started, someone stormed into the room.

Recovery Girl glared at Bakugo, “Get out unless you’re injured!” She snapped impatiently. 

“How bad is she?” Bakugo demanded angrily.

“I don’t know yet! Now, get out!” Recovery Girl hissed pointing to the door. You were disorientated as you laid on the bed; you were staring up at the ceiling and replaying what Monoma had said to you. Did people really think that? You asked with hurt and a tiny sob escaped your lips.

It didn’t escape the bickering Recovery Girl and Bakugo. “She’s my Omega!” Bakugo finally exploded and shouted stunning Recovery Girl and YOU. 

No! Your head screamed and you couldn’t help but cry fully now. Did he believe what Monoma said? Was he angry with you?! How long did he know he was my Alpha!?

Recovery Girl pursued her lips and sighed, “Let me heal her up first,” She patiently explained, “And if she decides to speak with you then I’ll let you both have the room.” Bakugo felt a growl leave his throat but he promptly turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. 

You were panicking.

You were shaking.

Recovery Girl did her best to heal you and calm you down, but the old woman knew nothing would until your Alpha came and settled you down. The bond between Alpha and Omega needed to be solid and right now, it was obvious it wasn’t fully connected between the two. Ten minutes later, Recovery Girl asked you a question.

“Do you want to speak with him right now?” She was gentle because she knew how fragile the situation was.

“He knew this whole time,” You whimpered rubbing at your eyes, “He probably doesn’t want me.” You said. 

And Recovery Girl whacked you with her cane. You yelped in surprise and the door burst open with Bakugo charging with sharp eyes; his eyes frantically scanned the room before landing on you. Recovery clicked her tongue but she seemed amused, “Is that a yes or no?” She asked again. 

You swallowed uneasily but gave a shy nod.

“I’ll give you both some privacy,” Recovery Girl said softly and left the room.

Bakugo sauntered over to your side, “You’re a fucking dumbass,” Bakugo muttered towering over you; you could feel your body ache for him to be closer. You wanted to feel his skin against yours and feel how warm he was. You flinched slightly at his harsh words but remained quiet, ready to face his wrath and rejection. “You really think I’d believe those bullshit rumors?” He demanded with a softer tone, you caught the hurt in his words.

You looked up at Bakugo with bloodshot eyes, “You knew.” You accused quietly.

Bakugo huffed and momentarily looked away from your eyes, “That day when those Alphas tried picking a fight with you.”

“That long!?” You murmured with a sad look, “Was it because I wasn’t good enough?” You asked as your heart ached badly.

“Don’t be stupid,” Bakugo sharply said, “You didn’t realize that I was your Alpha so, I didn’t want to push you.” He explained off-handedly, “I would’ve thought you’d realize our bond but you’re dumb.” 

“You’re so mean,” You muttered with a glare.

“You obviously don’t pay attention in Alpha/Beta/Omega class,” Bakugo rolled his eyes with a scoff, “Otherwise you would’ve recognized the signs.” 

“So, you’re not rejecting me?” You asked shyly.

“Why the fuck would I do that?” Bakugo sighed. 

You looked down at your lap, “I dunno,” You shrugged, “I...I might not be the right Omega for you.” 

“That’s such bullshit,” Bakugo rolled his eyes and reached for your hands, “You’re fucking mine, you got that, Y/N? I’m your Alpha and you’re my Omega and I couldn’t have asked for a better Omega,” Bakugo stated as he looked at you dead-on, “I’m not an idiot to reject my Omega but I am an idiot for not fucking telling you instead.” 

You blinked down at your intertwined hands; you awed at his warmth. You felt your body scream in joy. Bakugo clicked his tongue, “Don’t start crying,” Bakugo muttered, “Drives my Alpha insane.” 

“I just…” You threw your arms around him; your Alpha, “I finally have you.” You whispered as Bakugo wrapped his arm around you and pressed you against him firmly; he felt like a fortress; strong and firm. Bakugo buried his face into the area between your shoulder and neck and inhaled your unique scent and committed it to memory; His Omega. 

“I want to kill Monoma,” Bakugo muttered though it was slightly muffled; you shivered when you felt his hot breath push against your flushed skin, “So bad,” He growled holding you tighter now, “Aizawa barely held me back.” He muttered calming down when you snuggled closer to his body; your inner omega wanting more from your Alpha. 

“Y/N, Recovery Girl said she healed--Oh!” 

Bakugo pulled away from you but kept an arm around your lithe form as his crimson eyes zeroed in Yaomomo; You smiled brightly at Yaomomo, “Bakugo’s my Alpha, Yaomomo!” Bakugo did a double-take on you; your words hitting him hard in a fucking good way and that smile on your face was...so fucking gorgeous, like, what the fuck.

Yaomomo smiled and she was genuinely happy, “I guess I don’t have to worry about you as much,” She mused, “She’s a handful, ya know.” She pointed out to Bakugo.

Bakugo snorted, “Yeah, I fucking know.”

Yaomomo smiled a little more, “Should I tell the others or would you prefer to do it yourselves?” Yaomomo asked with a cute head-tilt. 

“We’ll do it,” Bakugo smirked, “I wanna see that fucker Monoma’s face when we tell everyone.” You shivered against your Alpha and he rubbed your shoulder in comfort. You watched as Yaomomo smirked; a sight rarely seen. You gawked at your best friend as she nodded and turned around to leave.

“Thanks, Ponytail,” Bakugo’s words made Yaomomo pause, “For keeping my Omega safe.” 

Yaomomo flashed Bakugo a smile, “Don’t hurt her or else you’ll have to deal with me.” And she left. 

“She has balls,” Bakugo mused before he turned to you, “Wanna go out tonight?” He asked with his eyebrow cocked.

You smiled, “I have to check my schedule,” You said playfully.

Bakugo scoffed, “Cheeky thing,” But you watched Bakugo smile; a smile so beautiful it left you stunned. You gently reached out and brought Bakugo’s face to yours and gently kissed him. Bakugo groaned quietly and pressed his lips firmer on yours, “My Omega,” Bakugo murmured pulling away and kissing your forehead, “My beautiful Omega.”

You smiled against his chest and felt your heart ready to burst.