#this one kid today saw my rock and said it looked like some monster out of a kids cartoon

[oflgtfol]

im becoming the designated sunday craft person which i like bc i love being paid to just do crafts for 2 hours AND i like doing crafts AND its making me get better at interacting with kids. im still awkward but im also just an awkward person in general so i feel like im becoming less Uniquely Awkward Around Children because of this

[tommi3boy]

“Oh my you must have really hit your head hard” | {SDV Harvey x gn! Reader}

Word count: 817

Warnings: minor injury, no name used

Pairing: Harvey x gn! reader

A/N: pure fluff, not yet established relationship but these fools love each other

Your first winter at Stardew valley was an especially cold one. Not many crops can grow in the icy snow, so you’ve been spending several hours a day exploring the strange caves near the mountains.

Today’s agenda was to get to floor 95. You’ve been blowing through levels of the mines with ease. Safe to say either your skill or your sheer luck was starting to get to your head.

The noise of the elevator starting up at floor 95 was music to your ears. Boy were you tired, but the thrill of knowing what was one more floor below you had you heaving your pickaxe at more rocks. That was until a cave monster managed a fatal hit straight to the head, knocking you unconscious.

A bright yellow figure hovered over you as you came to, took a couple of seconds to realize it was Linus. He looked really shook up and was muddling about getting you some help. You were banged up pretty bad but you weren’t helpless. Linus had an arm under you, shuffling to Harvey’s Clinic.

Your ego hurt the most, Harvey had warned you not to venture in the mines so this was going to be embarrassing. Linus threw a few pebbles at Harvey’s upstairs apartment window to get his attention. You saw the window open and Harvey’s sleepy head pop out. The immediate panic in his eyes at the sight of you made you feel a little ashamed of your state. You knew Harvey cared about you, you’ve been bringing this guy coffee with cute notes written on them all year. It was mindless flirting at first but ya’ll definitely grew an unexpected appreciation for each other throughout the year.

The front door of the Clinic swung open. Harvey was in his robe and had messy hair, nearly tripping on his slippers. He swiftly took Linus’s place in supporting your body weight and quickly brought you inside. You hadn’t realize how cold you were until the clinics warm air hit you. Linus explained to Harvey he found you near the mines and then sheepishly exited the clinic, not wanting any sort of thank you for his kind actions.

The buzzing LED lights were hurting your head. Harvey helped you up on a cold metal table then went to rummage through shelves looking for medical supplies, muttering to himself frantically. He brought out a whole bunch of basic first aid tools and was talking himself through the steps of mending a head injury. He was clearly trying to wake himself up to be fully capable of caring for you.

He grabbed a small flash light first and went to see if your pupils were responsive, basically to see if you had a concussion or not. His hand rested on your cheek to get a proper angle, but you felt him shaking. You’ve busted your head countless times as a kid so you remained mostly calm. Although you dreaded seeing him in such a state, a state which you caused. You resting your hand on top of Harvey’s. Making eye contact with him, you take a deep breath in-and-out wanting Harvey to mimic, which he does.

Harvey’s shoulder relax a little and he states “I’m sorry, when I saw you like that outside my window, I started imagining the worst.” God you’re an idiot you thought. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, looks like I nearly gave you a heart attack” you tried to chuckle a little to ease the tension but your head ached doing so. Harvey’s eye’s were so sincere looking at you, you can’t remember the last time someone looked at you like that. “Are you feeling feverish, your face has gone flush?” Harvey exclaimed. “Thankfully not, I think I might be a little love sick though.” That was so corny you wish you’d been left in the mines. It made Harvey laugh though, “Oh my you must have really hit your head hard.”

He gave you an examination and said “If it’s a concussion it’s a minor one”, but he wants to get a CT scan in the morning just to be safe. He went ahead and bandaged any small cuts you had as well.

“Alright you’re free to go, but I better see you here tomorrow morning. And no more mines.”

“My mining will be on a temporary hiatus, I’ll be sure to bring u some coffee tomorrow as a thank you”

Harvey sighs at your stubbornness

“Are you sure you’re okay to walk back to your farm, it’s dark and the pavement might be slick.”

“I’ll be fine, nothing I don’t do often”

Standing at the doorway of the clinic Harvey shivers as you open the door to exit. He then grabs your hand.

“One last thing”

Harvey gingerly kisses your forehead.

“Get home safe please.”

That had u giddy as hell on your walk home.

[cedefaci]

Foundations of the World: Scattering

After some consideration, I realized that the original post was getting too long, so I started a new one, for the next section, AKA misc. fighting. For the first part, see Gathering.

The night was lit by fire now. Tsuna felt small, standing in a line between tall, beautiful fairy queens and wizened old men, as well as other bosses of other powers that he hadn’t known existed before today. He was scared.

They were all scared. Takeshi had come back onto the roof a couple of minutes ago, and neither he nor Ryohei, the most boisterous of their little group, were smiling. Even Reborn was grim. And he knew that the giants he was standing shoulder to shoulder with were also scared.

And if he looked farther away and towards the right, towards their hotel in the Theatre District, he could imagine that he saw two pinpricks of blazing light, Kyoko and Kusakabe-san standing against the darkness. But that was his imagination. The truth was that he could see nothing from that direction, could hear nothing, and had to take it for a good sign—it meant that the fighting hadn’t reached them yet.

Behind them, sneakers squeaked, and Mister Dresden came up to join them. The Erlking pointed out the dark spaces in the distance between the two patches of fire, where his troops were, forcing the Fomor to part around them like fish around a rock. They were still far away—and Tsuna was still waiting here, just watching, while people were getting hurt.

—No. Mister Vadderung’s sharp eye caught the change in Tsuna’s focus, and he pointed at one of his Einherjar.

The Einherjar shot a bazooka-like weapon up into the sky, and seconds later, the neighbourhood around the castle-fortress was lit in the flares’ light.

“You have good instincts.” Mister Vadderung said approvingly. Tsuna leaned forward—it wasn’t just the one enemy who had caught his attention—there were many of them, all of them large and tall, moving on two legs but not the way humans did.

“Ready stations,” called Marcone’s voice. “Prepare to fire.”

“What are they?” Tsuna asked quietly.

“Not human.” Reborn said dismissively, “Not particularly strong either.”

“Scouts.” Mister Vadderung agreed, “Here to test the defences and maybe attack a few soft targets, basically cannon fodder.”

Mister Marcone nodded, “No need to play along.”

He addressed another one of the soldiers, “Hold fire unless the enemy engages us.”

But they were going to hurt innocent people!

“Wait. What?” Mister Dresden sounded just as confused as Tsuna was.

Looking out into the neighbourhood, Tsuna remembered how the curtains had been drawn shut in every window, how the apprehension and aimless fear had filled the air even when there was no one in sight. The buildings they had passed seemed to made of paper now, when he looked at the hulking figures that now stalked through the shadows.

Someone screamed. A gun went off, multiple times.

“I’m going to help them.”

“We have to help them.”

He had spoken at the same time as Mister Dresden, and he felt the satisfaction from Reborn at the contrast.

“Sure thing, Tsuna.” Takeshi agreed, but Hibari had already leapt lightly from the roof, a bloodthirsty grin on his face and, to his surprise, Chrome in his arms.

Before Tsuna could do anything but gawk, Hayato nodded and held out a hand to block Mister Dresden from moving. “Hold on. Hibari can take care of himself. We don’t need to risk friendly fire.”

“Yeah?” Mister Dresden asked, still tense as a wire, “What about the girl then?”

“Chrome?” Hayato confirmed, “Looks like you’re short on personnel so she’s gonna collect some more.”

“Well,” Mister Dresden shot back, “I don’t know how good you are and I don’t care. No way in hell am I watching kids go face monsters while I sit here and twiddle my thumbs, Marcone.”

He directed his last sentence towards Mister Marcone, who was now standing on Mister Vadderung’s other side. Mister Marcone held his challenging gaze steadily, then smiled, “Best of luck, Mister Dresden.”

He turned and started giving more orders to the Einherjar. “Set up sniper nests to keep the area clear and organize a squad to go with Mister Dresden. Mister Sawada, am I correct in assuming that you won’t be kept away from your Guardians?”

“Of course not.”

“Then what is your goal of engagement?”

Tsuna paused. The yokai had broken into the apartments easily, but Sky Flames had secured the hotel, but he couldn’t light fires for everyone. “Evacuation.” He decided.

Haru backed him up.

“I’ve run the numbers.” She said, arms crossed, chin jutting out defiantly, “There’s not going to be more than fifty people who need shelter, and if you’re a lord, than your castle is supposed to keep your people safe when the fighting comes!”

Her words seemed to remind the other Mob Boss of something.

“A king is one who can hold his own.” Mister Marcone said. “Be quick, Mister Sawada. I believe you will soon be needed in other places.”

“Of course.” Tsuna clenched his fists, igniting his Ring. “Let’s go.”

Mister Dresden and his giant friend was faster than them, with their longer legs that ran as quickly as Tsuna did under the effects of Reborn’s Dying Will Bullets, but while Tsuna had accepted the necessity of riding a horse to get to the castle, he was not Dino and refused to get on one when running was simpler.

And either way, by the time they got there, Chrome was standing in the centre of a group of giant, ash-skinned oni with stag horns and fur cloaks. There were smaller oni trying to attack her, but the larger ones killed them with ease, snarling their hatred out into the world, wielding spears that tracked their targets and horn-handled iron knives. Farther off, he could just about make out the swift-moving shadow of Hibari as he attacked his own prey (presumably for the offense of crowding).

Tsuna abruptly realized that one of Mukuro’s favourite tricks had been possessing people to turn them against each other, and Chrome, despite being sweet and kind and nice, was Mukuro’s student.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Mister Dresden said, blasting one of the smaller oni away with a jet of fire, “Mind control—you can do mind control?”

“I tried it first.” Chrome said calmly, her hands on her trident while Mukurowl perched on her shoulder, “But boss, I think they are closer to onryo.”

Angry ghosts. Resentful ghosts. And on Chrome’s index finger glinted a disturbingly familiar ring. One set with a wailing, distorted skull-shape. Was that Genkishi’s Ring?

“They were people once.” Chrome explained distantly, barely audible through the wall of oni bodies and over the bestial screams, “I could summon echoes, which worked better, once I saw that.”

They were people once? Whatever Chrome was doing, it was working. All the oni who weren’t focused on Hibari were breaking themselves on her defences. Tsuna hesitated, but none of his Guardians did. Haru caught her hoop as it rebounded from the stomach of her target, then followed up with a decisive strike to the back of its head once it had doubled over.

“Clearly, they aren’t people now. They’re UMAs, but I can’t realize the type, dammit, I focused too much on extra-terrestrials instead of folklore.” Hayato frowned, lining up a shot that left three oni dead and another two injured, stumbling right into the swing of Takeshi’s sword, which created a lull in the battle.

As they watched, the corpses of the smaller oni deflated like Bluebell and Zakuro had done when Ghost had drained them dry.

“Hey, River-Shoulders, you know what these things are?” Mister Dresden asked, looking faintly disgusted at the sight of the oni remains.

“Huntsmen.” The giant on their side said, “They hunt in packs of thirteen, and the strength of the fallen goes to their packmates.” He paused, “You’ve clearly made it work for you, though I would still advise caution. They are driven only by hate, and even their masters have a hard time controlling them, which is why they are only bred shortly before use.”

Crowding and accumulating strength? No wonder Hibari was fighting them with reckless abandon.

“Then let’s wrap this up.” Mister Dresden said, striding towards one of the houses and knocking on the doors.

[writingforfun0714]

Hello everyone, sorry I have been inactive for about a month or so.

I’ve also been hard at work on my very first request for @depressed-sasuke

I wanna thank you for being so patient with me. Like I said earlier, I ended up doing a rewrite and took some stuff out cuz it had started to trail on a bit too long. I also noticed quite a few typos doing a quick reread so if there’s any others I missed, I’m sorry—I really just wanted to post this today. I hope you like it🥰

Maisy

Request from @depressed-sasuke : Jungle Book (2016) OC character

About the character

—Name: Santi

—16 M

I also added a few other OCs just to fill out some human characters.

Warnings: Spoilers for Jungle Book 2016, 3rd POV, OC character/s, long fic

10,433 word count

A Chance Encounter

3rd POV

It’s a warm day in the Seeonee jungle. The breeze is light and there’s not a cloud in the sky. Shere Khan, the law-breaking tiger, has been gone for 6 years, ever since his fight with the mancub, Mowgli. The boy himself saw the tiger fall into the Red Flower. Despite stealing the forbidden Red Flower and nearly burning down the jungle, Mowgli had shown great courage and strength in choosing to side with his wolf brethren and using his intelligence to outsmart the ferocious tiger.

After the great elephants put the flames out, Mowgli had decided to remain with the wolfpack that his mother, Raksha, now leads. For 6 years, the jungle had known peace and tranquility. In those years, Mowgli has grown into a strong, confident, if a bit wild 16yr old. Remnants of his childhood is still visible with his red loincloth still in use and his boyish face not having grown into that of a full-grown man’s face, though his hair has gotten longer and his body is no longer scrawny and small but muscular and lean, littered with a few scars.

Despite Shere Khan’s defeat, there are rumors that he lives. Men from the manvillage claim to have seen shadows of a monster. Among those men is Dev, an accomplished hunter of the village. Mostly hunting for food, Dev has only hunted in order to protect and feed the manvillage unlike those who view hunting as a sport and kill for fun.

Dev is a single father who has a 16 year old son named Santi. Santi has soft brown skin and jet black hair with the same intense, dark eyes as his father. Santi’s mother, Dev’s wife, was killed bringing Santi into the world. While Santi loves the jungle, he also gets along well with the other children in the village. In fact, he’s with them right now as the adults discuss what to do about Shere Khan.

The adults are gathered around the fire pit in the center of the village. It’s mostly men, though there are a couple women also gathered too. Santi is keeping the kids out of the way but they’re still close enough to overhear what the adults say. They are worried about their cattle disappearing.

“No one has seen anything? Really?” A middle aged man asks, looking around at the crowd. People murmur ‘no’s and shake their heads.

“It’s a monster-“ a woman says, garnering attention.

“A monster?” A young man asks and she nods.

“We all know monsters are not real,” the first man argues.

“It had burned flesh and a blind left eye,” the woman insists. Whispers of Shere Khan, the tiger, flow through the crowd. An argument suddenly forms between the woman and the middle aged man.

“Khan burned in the forest fire 6 years ago-“ he says.

“Did you see it? Did anyone actually see the tiger perish in the flames?” The woman asks the crowd and no one answers. Some even look away. The arguing continues, but Santi has stopped paying attention and started remembering the day the village saw the fire engulfing the jungle across the river. Santi was a young 10 year old boy who just started to learn the basics of hunting. Santi was with his father as he told hunting stories to the other men gathered around the huge bonfire. It was nighttime and Santi was sitting on a small rock, working on re-stringing his bow when he saw it. A shadowy figure that made its way across the bridge. He couldn’t tell what it was, but he did see the mysterious figure take one of the torches and run back into the jungle. That was right before the alarm bell rang to alert everyone about the fire. Santi never told anyone about the mysterious figure and the torch.

“Monster or not, something is killing our livestock. Until we catch the culprit, I suggest we have watch duty over the herd,” Dev suggests.

“Messua, you said the creature was burned?” Dev asks and the young woman nods.

“Badly…it..it had no pelt left-“ Messua says, remembering the vivid, grotesque beast that was once Shere Khan. She shivers fearfully.

“Everyone, I will need the most experienced hunters with me to track down this beast, volunteers be warned, you may not return,” Dev says. 3 strong young men in their 30s step forward. Dev knows them, being the best hunter of the village, he taught those men himself when he was a teenager and they were children. Santi stands and he makes eye contact with his father.

“I’m ready to join you Father, I’ll make you proud,” Santi assures his father. Knowing how far his son has come with his lessons and teachings, Dev nods approvingly.

“I’ve always been proud of you Son,” Dev says as the children give Santi encouragement.

“We will take the time to gather our weapons and ready ourselves. It’s nearly sunset, so we will depart then,” Dev says as Messua steps forward.

“While the hunting party is out, we need to decide who will watch over the herd of cattle,” she says as Santi, his father and the 3 volunteers head off to get what they need. Meanwhile deep in the jungle…

The Seeonee wolfpack is gathered around Council Rock. Raksha, Mowgli’s mother, is sitting on the Alpha’s spot with the rest of the Pack all sitting at attention. The Pack elders are sitting to Raksha’s left. Mowgli is sitting with his siblings and Baloo the bear while Bagheera is up in a nearby tree that overlooks Council Rock.

“Alright, quiet please everyone,” Raksha says, getting the Pack’s attention and everyone quiets down.

“I’m afraid I must report some unsettling news. Our scouts have seen signs of Shere Khan, the tiger,” Raksha says, looking at Mowgli. His dark eyes widen and the boy gasps.

“N-No…No-it can’t be-..I..I killed him when I was a cub-“ Mowgli insists, standing up. Whispers sound through the Pack.

“It’s true Brother-I spotted the tiger while I was out on scout patrol in the Rocky Plains,” Gray, one of Mowgli’s brothers, argues gently. Mowgli wants to argue but the honesty in Gray Brother’s voice confirms their mother’s words.

“I-I saw him fall into the Red Flower-I saw him!” Mowgli insists, looking out at the rest of the wolf pack as they whisper to each other, unsure of his claim. The boy looks pleadingly up at his mother. She nods and glances to the Pack elders, to Biranyi in particular.

“I believe you Mowgli,” the old wolf says, getting everyone’s attention while also making the boy smile.

“For 6 seasons we’ve known peace and good hunts in the Jungle, we have had no reason to think Shere Khan survived the Red Flower,” Biranyi says. When the old wolf mentions the Red Flower, Mowgli feels a pit in his stomach. While his family, including Baloo and Bagheera, have all tried reassuring the boy over the seasons, Mowgli has always felt guilty since he was the one that brought the fire to the Jungle in the first place.

“You chose to be with us just like your mother chose you all those seasons ago,” Bagheera’s voice rings in his head.

“We must send out a hunting party to track down Shere Khan and end him once and for all,” Akru, a young male wolf with brown and gray fur announces, getting Mowgli’s attention.

“No-I must end the tiger,” Mowgli speaks up.

“Mowgli-“ Raksha immediately interrupts, feeling her protective mothering take over. Mowgli looks at her, watching her ears go back slightly in sadness.

“I…I don’t think that is wise. Let a more experienced wolf-“ Raksha tries to tell her son.

“I fought Shere Khan 6 seasons ago! I have to finish this. He dislikes the rest of you, but he HATES me,” Mowgli interrupts.

“Mowgli I-“ Raksha pleads.

“Mother I know I’ve only been on 2 hunts, but Shere Khan killed Akela because of me-I have to avenge him!” Mowgli insists.

“Enough!” Raksha barks harshly, causing the teenager to flinch before sitting back down and the Pack to go silent. Even Bagheera and Baloo appear startled.

“I am the leader of the Seeonee Wolf Pack. There will be no more of this talk Mowgli, is that understood?” Raksha asks seriously. Mowgli looks like he wants to argue with his mother until he catches sight of Bagheera’s big bright lime green eyes. The boy sees Bagheera shake his head slightly and sighs.

“Understood,” Mowgli replies glumly. Raksha nods and proceeds with asking for volunteers for the hunting party. She only picks the experienced hunters and Mowgli can’t help but feel wronged.

“What is it Brother?” Gray asks, nudging Mowgli lightly with his cold, wet nose. Mowgli looks away and pulls his knees up to his chin.

“Nothing,” he says, clearly upset.

After the assembly, Mowgli manages to sneak away without Raksha knowing, however, the boy’s actions don’t go unnoticed by Bagheera. The panther jumps silently off of the branch he was laying on and follows Mowgli.

The cat keeps the brown skinned boy in his sights at all times. Bagheera watches as Mowgli stops by a tree and breaks off a low-hanging branch. Bagheera watches Mowgli break off all the smaller branches sticking out. Bagheera takes a few steps, revealing his position.

“Mowgli, what are you doing?” Bagheera asks, clearly concerned about his boy.

“You heard Mother, she doesn’t want me to finish my fight with Khan,” Mowgli grumbles as he strips the 4-foot long stick down.

“Mowgli, going against your mother is one thing, but she is also the leader of the Pack. If you do this, she can force you out of the Pack,” Bagheera warns.

“I have to do this Bagheera. For Akela. And for myself…I have to finish what I started and as payback for burning the Jungle,” Mowgli says, referring to stealing the Red Flower.

“I know you feel guilty about burning the Jungle. But you never started anything. You did right by all of us by facing Shere Khan,” Bagheera says, “it’s over.” He says finally.

“Not for me. Bagheera…as hunters, isn’t it our job to make sure our prey does not suffer? Khan would be severely burned and deformed. Is it not my job to put him out of his misery?” Mowgli asks.

At first, Bagheera doesn’t answer and instead, looks away as if gathering his thoughts of what he wants to say.

“Yes Mowgli, you are right. As hunters, it’s our job to make sure we hunt only for food, and to not cause suffering. But Raksha is right in her own way. She has a responsibility to you, both as leader of the Pack and your mother,” Bagheera says, and Mowgli sighs.

“I know Mother loves me and wants to protect me, but I have to do this,” the brown-skinned boy insists. Bagheera looks into the boy’s eyes and eventually nods.

“I understand,” Bagheera says, “but I’m going with you.”

“Bagheera, no-I won’t let you get hurt for me,” Mowgli argues and Bagheera shakes his head.

“I’m sorry, but this is nonnegotiable. I will tell Raksha if you refuse,” Bagheera argues calmly back. Mowgli can’t help but smile.

“Alright. I’ll take all the help I can get,” the boy says and Bagheera nods.

Back in the manvillage Dev and Santi are in their home gathering what they need.

“Thank you for allowing me in the hunting party Father. I’ll finally show you what a great hunter I am and I will make you proud, I promise,” Santi assures his father.

“Santi, I know you’re a great hunter and I’ve always been proud of you. You’ve grown into quite a hunter and I’m getting on in years. I can’t move like I used to and my eyes aren’t what they used to be. That’s why I want you in the hunting party, because I know you will succeed where I will fail,” Dev explains. Santi looks at his father in surprise.

“Father you are still the village’s most accomplished hunter. I still have so much to learn from you,” Santi insists and Dev chuckles and ruffles his son’s hair like how he used to when Santi was a small boy.

“I appreciate that Santi, but you are more capable than you know. I have complete and total trust in you,” Dev tells his son, who nods. If he was being honest, part of Santi is glad his father trusts him so much but another part of Santi is worried that if he fails, he’d disappoint his father.

After gathering his knife, bow and quiver of arrows, Santi joins with his father and the other 3 volunteers around the unlit bonfire. The others are also armed with bows and knives strapped around them. The older men start formulating a plan as Dev pulls out a map of the area and Santi listens intently.

“What is the tiger’s last known sighting?” Dev asks.

“Around the southern jungle, past the swamps and the rocky plains, but that was about 6 years ago,” Rohan, one of the volunteers answers. He was one of the children Dev taught when he was a teenager. Now Rohan is an adult and is expecting his first child with his wife.

“He might return to a familiar area, even after all those years,” Amir, another volunteer says. He and Rohan are close friends having grown up together. Dev nods in agreement.

“The deer have been plentiful there as well,” Dev says, looking to Santi. The boy recently went to the rocky plains and managed to snag an older buck so the village could eat. Santi nods.

“I brought one back the day before yesterday,” Santi confirms.

“We’ll split up to cover the large area. Send a smoke signal if you need help or if you spot the tiger. If there is no signal we should regroup somewhere,” Amir suggests. Dev points to a lake.

“There, we’ll regroup at Elephant Lake,” Dev says and the others nod in agreement. Dev turns to his son rather seriously.

“Signal even if you sprain an ankle, ok?” Dev asks.

“Father-“

“Ok?” Dev repeats more insistently and Santi nods, playfully rolling his eyes and nodding.

“Yes Father,” the teenager answers and Dev nods, hugging his son.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dev says. Santi hugs his father back before joining Rohan and the other 2 hunter volunteers at the bridge that crosses the river that separates the village from the jungle.

The group crosses the bridge and walks together for about a mile until the path stops. It continues a few different ways so this is where the group decides to split up.

“Good hunting,” Dev says.

“Good hunting,” the others repeat before they all take off in different directions.

Santi heads on the southwest trail for about a mile before deciding to go off the dirt path that only travelers and hunters use. Santi runs deeper into the jungle, cautious and alert. His bright, dark eyes scan the area as he runs. Even with the slight breeze, it’s still incredibly hot and Santi starts sweating after about a mile.

Deep in the jungle, Mowgli and Bagheera move swiftly. It won’t be long until Raksha notices Mowgli is gone, considering everyone went back to their den after the assembly.

“Where do we even start looking? Shere Khan could be anywhere,” Mowgli asks as he runs beside Bagheera.

“Gray Brother said he was out scouting the Rocky Plains when he saw Shere Khan. We should start there,” Bagheera tells the boy, who nods and keeps running, climbing up into the trees every now and then.

The two get to the tree line and spot the tall beige grasses of the Rocky Plains.

“Flank left and search,” Bagheera orders quietly and Mowgli nods and the two separate and search.

Back at the dens, Raksha looks around and doesn’t see Mowgli. She sees Gray and Tavi, Mowgli’s siblings, walking together.

“Gray-Tavi!” Raksha calls to her pups. They look at their mother and hurry over.

“Yes Mother?” Tavi asks.

“Where is your brother?” Raksha asks, referring to Mowgli. The two young wolves look around.

“He was here for the howl-“ Gray says, looking around. The end howl happens last at assemblies.

“You know Mowgli. He’s probably off with Bagheera-“ Tavi says. Raksha’s eyes widen and she looks around before realizing her daughter is right. Bagheera is nowhere to be seen either.

“You’re probably right,” Raksha agrees, though a feeling still nags at her. It’s like a pit in her stomach. She knows Mowgli wouldn’t have given up about Shere Khan that easily. Since burning the Jungle and Akela’s death, Mowgli has been plagued with nightmares and guilt that on some days, seem to crush the boy. As his mother, Raksha shares his pain because she cannot stand to see him so upset. Over the years, she’s always assured the boy that even though using the Red Flower was forbidden, he did so with good intentions.

“We can go look for him if you want us to,” Gray offers. At first, Raksha wants to say yes, just to make sure Mowgli is ok, but that’s when she remembers how he seemed at the assembly. The mother wolf realizes she’s being a bit overprotective and sighs.

“No, it’s ok, he should have some time to himself,” Raksha says and the two young wolves nod. As they turn to head back to their dens, Raksha stops them.

“Does…Does Mowgli think I’m smothering him?” Raksha suddenly asks. The two wolves blink and share a look.

“Oh—uh-“ Tavi stutters.

“Tell me the truth pups,” Raksha says. Despite being adults themselves, they will always be her pups.

“Sometimes…but he knows it’s not your fault,” Gray admits.

“Gray-“ Tavi says, nudging her brother with her muzzle.

“What? Mother was going to find out at some point-“ Gray argues. When Raksha gives them a questioning look, Gray sighs and his ears go back slightly.

“Mowgli told us not to say anything,” Gray explains. She nods understandingly.

“It’s harder with Mowgli…he’s different, so I can’t tell when he’s ready to go off on his own,” Raksha says. Mowgli is the only one of her pups that still live with her. While Gray and Tavi have been on multiple hunts, Mowgli’s only been on 2, and has been a chaser both times.

“He knows you love him and that you just want what’s best for him,” Tavi tells her mother. Raksha’s eyes shine and she nods.

“Thank you..both of you. If you go rabbit hunting, be sure to pick up a couple extra for the food reserve,” Raksha instructs and the two nod. As the leader of the Pack, Raksha is in charge of the food supply, making sure it won’t run low unless it’s unavoidable.

“We will,” Gray answers and the siblings walk off towards the small waterfall that provides a source of water for the Pack that’s right by the dens, which is much more convenient than going to Peace Rock.

The wind blows lightly as Santi keeps a slower, steadier pace through the dense jungle. Hearing the different sounds of the jungle keeps Santi alert to everything around him as his eyes scan ahead. The hunting party’s only been separated for a few hours. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Santi knows to look for clues but the jungle is enormous and goes on for thousands of miles. The most logical places would be right across the river since Khan seems to prefer the easier targets of cattle. Being domesticated animals, they are not quick like deer or rabbits and they are all in one place.

Santi climbs over a fallen tree trunk and makes his way deeper into the jungle. Every hour or so, Santi climbs a tree and looks around to check for smoke signals since he’s not near any high ground.

The teenager hears a slight rustling and his hand hovers over the knife strapped across his body. A rabbit races out and disappears into some brush. Getting thirsty, Santi keeps going until he hears the trickle of a small creek. He sees the creek cutting through the trees and approaches. He sticks his hands in the water. It’s not cold, but it’s not warm either. He cups some water out and drinks before splashing some water on his face and neck. That’s when he spots it. In the creek bed, Santi spots a paw print in the mud! He gasps and looks at it. It’s big and feline. Canine tracks from dholes or wolves are longer and don’t have claw marks.

Santi remembers his fathers words from one of his first hunting lessons, back when he was a young boy.

“Follow your lead until you can confirm with your own eyes. Just because you spot a set of tracks or a tuft of fur doesn’t mean you’ve spotted your prey,” his father had told him. 10 year old Santi had gotten excited when he found what he thought were tracks of a fox, but were instead of a dhole. He shouldn’t get his hopes up just yet.

It’s been nearly a week of hunting for Shere Khan in the Jungle. Santi has gotten to the rocky plains and no one’s sent up a signal. Which is good…and bad. No one’s hurt or needs help, but no sightings of Shere Khan, yet.

He follows the tracks until they stop. Santi looks around. Bugs buzz and birds chirp. Various rustling from small creatures and even the noise of the breeze makes the stillness seem loud. That’s when he hears a noise. It’s a harsh, painful sounding noise before it dies out as quickly as it came. Santi knows that sound…it’s of a cow dying. Shere Khan!

Santi races in the direction of the noise as fast as he can. The teenager keeps in shape helping his father so he doesn’t tire easily. As Santi runs, he grabs hold of the hilt of his hunting knife. It’s a long hunting knife his father used. Dev gave it to his son for his 13th birthday.

Santi climbs up a rocky outcrop to get a better look. The teenager spots a tree trunk with bloody claw marks carved into the bark and climbs back down. He hurries over to get a better look at the bloody claw marks before turning and spotting a trail of blood that leads to a mauled body of what used to be a cow. It’s covered in claw marks and none of it has been eaten. Santi’s eyes widen. It hasn’t been eaten! It’s a trap!

A vicious roar breaks the quiet of the jungle. The roar sounds like the noise of a demon. Santi glances around nervously and prepares himself. The teenager looks around for any sign of what made the roaring noise. Santi’s hand hovers over the knife hilt, ready for anything.

“Did Shere Khan know to set a trap?” Santi thinks to himself. Unaware to the boy, Shere Khan is watching the teenager’s every move. Despite how much time has gone by, Shere Khan is still in pain. Not nearly as bad as surviving the fall into the fire, but that’s why he’s been eating cattle. He cannot hunt anymore and Man’s cattle are easily killed. His striped fur is all but gone and even patches of his skin are deformed from the Red Flower’s touch. His blind eye is bloody and his good eye can really only see shapes. His sense of smell has returned a little and because of all of the raw skin exposed, his sense of touch is almost always pain.

Santi cautiously moves through the Jungle, unaware his every move is being watched. He doesn’t see any threats nearby, so he decides to start a smoke signal. Green leaves and sticks create more smoke than dry ones, so Santi makes sure to grab some of both.

He finds a flat rock on the ground and two dry sticks about an inch thick each. He piles more of the dry twigs and leaves near him. The boy grabs the two sticks perpendicularly to each other and starts rubbing them together furiously, still being watched by the unseen tiger.

After a few minutes, Santi sees a wispy trail of smoke starting to form from his stick and smiles. Almost there…almost there. Once the smoke is thick enough Santi blows very gently on it to start the ember going. He sees a small glowing orange dot and feeds the ember more dry sticks and leaves to make it grow.

The ember grows into a very small flame so, carefully, Santi adds more dry plant life to the pile. Once the fire has grown a bit bigger (though still rather small in general), Sant starts adding the greener plant life he’s gathered. He puts 2 twigs and a handful of greenish yellow leaves. The fire’s still lit but the smoke gets thicker almost instantly. Accidentally breathing some of the smoke in, Santi coughs slightly before taking off his shirt. He uses the fabric to cover the fire. He moves in and out of the smoke to create clouds of smoke that rise into the air. It should be nice and visible since Santi is near the Rocky Plains and there’s no trees to obscure the smoke.

As Mowgli moves swiftly and quietly through the tall grasses of the plains, he looks in the sky and spots small gray clouds wafting up. Memories of the Red Flower from 6 seasons ago flash through the teenager’s mind. Hoping that it’s not, Mowgli hurries towards the source of the gray clouds. As he moves, Mowgli wonders if Bagheera can see it too, since they split up to cover more area. Hopefully Bagheera’s on his way.

Mowgli manages to sneak his way through the grasses until he gets so close he sees the Red Flower, and the creature making it. Mowgli’s eyes widen in shock. You see, 6 seasons ago, when Mowgli stole the Red Flower from the manvillage, it was night. Only the moon and stars dimly lit the area. Mowgli’s eyes do not work as well as his wolf brethren’s and while he did see the creatures called Man thanks to the glow of the Red Flower, Mowgli didn’t really see any defining features. At the time, the boy just thought they were unlike anything he had ever seen.

But now, in broad daylight, Mowgli sees the haunting similarities between himself and the man creature. The man creature’s fur is shorter and it’s covered in some sort of colorful skin from the back legs going down all the way to cover the back paws. That’s when Mowgli notices a subtle movement in the underbrush. Mowgli immediately thinks of Bagheera, but when he catches the sight of reddish pink flesh, he lets doubt creep in. No, that is not Bagheera.

Without warning, a piercing roar breaks the steady quiet of the Jungle and Shere Khan leaps out at the creature! Mowgli seems almost frozen when he catches sight of the once formidable tiger. Deep down, Mowgli knows that it is Shere Khan, but because of his deformed, almost grotesque appearance, all Mowgli can think of is a monster and fear grips the boy so tightly all he can do is watch.

Mowgli watches the the man creature scream as Khan leaps at him. The tiger’s claws rake across the man’s bare chest and he cries out in pain. Mowgli gasps and his grip on his sharpened stick tightens. Mowgli’s eyes scan the surrounding area and he can’t help but feel down when he doesn’t see any sign of Bagheera. Maybe he’s too far away, Mowgli thinks to himself.

Mowgli watches Shere Khan circle his prey. Mowgli sees the human’s paw come up and cover its bloody chest. The claw marks look deep and blood runs down the creature’s bare chest. Mowgli can’t help but marvel at the similarities between himself and the man creature. Mowgli’s reminded of when Shere Khan managed to scratch his own chest during their fight 6 seasons ago. He was climbing down the dead tree when Khan managed to surprise the boy. He jerked back just fast enough to only get raked by one claw across his upper chest, creating an ‘X’ pattern over an already healed scar from a previous wound.

The human winces and pants, its paw is shaking and Mowgli hopes for Bagheera to show any second now. Seeing Shere Khan move in for the kill, Mowgli shifts his grip on his sharpened stick and winds up to throw it. He takes an almost silent breath before shutting his eyes. He opens them and instantly throws the stick. It pierces the tiger’s flank and he roars in pain. He looks around, though being almost blind, cannot see Mowgli.

“RAAAAUGGHHH!!!!” Mowgli screams, jumping off the branch he was perched on. The teenager collides with the tiger, causing a painful roar and they tumble to the ground. The man creature collapses, blacking out.

Mowgli feels the tiger’s deformed, almost melted skin and winces in disgust before backing away.

“Mowgli!” Mowgli hears a familiar voice call out to him. The boy turns towards the voice and sees Bagheera race towards them. Shere Khan struggles on the ground, unable to get up from the searing pain of being tackled, the permanent pain from the Red Flower and the stick that’s piercing his back left flank. Seeing that the tiger is no threat like this, Bagheera slows to a stop and looks at the injured, deformed tiger. Bagheera’s eyes widen and his ears go back slightly at the sight of the tiger.

“Shere Khan,” Bagheera breathes quietly. He takes in the vivid sight of the tiger and cannot help but admire Khan’s sheer will to live.

Shere Khan swipes wildly at the air in front of him with a roar, unable to tell where Mowgli is.

“You will never be rid of me mancub!!! My hate for you kept my spirit alive and I have waited for the day when I would finally kill you!” Shere Khan snarls angrily. Mowgli carefully moves around in the tiger’s blind spot and yanks out his sharpened stick that was piercing his left flank. Shere Khan roars in pain before whirling around where Mowgli is and swipes viciously. Mowgli jerks backward and falls over, nearly missing the tiger’s claws as they swipe through the air in front of his face. Bagheera prepares to leap but Mowgli stops the panther, shaking his head. Understanding it is Mowgli’s choice to make, Bagheera does as he’s told.

Unaware to anyone, the human stirs and groggily wakes up with blurred vision and a searing pain on his chest. The teenager sees a half naked boy about his age standing in front of him with a sharpened stick that’s bloody. Mowgli attacks the monstrous creature as the injured teenager passes out again.

Mowgli charges forward and jams the sharpened stick into the tiger, screaming as he does it. Shere Khan roars and tries clawing Mowgli before the boy shoves the stick in deeper and the tiger gets weaker and weaker until he stops struggling. The tiger’s breathing is ragged and rough. Mowgli approaches and looks down at the tiger. Mowgli’s dark eyes never stray from Shere Khan’s blind eye and his permanently red, injured eye. The boy watches as Shere Khan’s eyes slowly dim before shutting forever and the tiger’s ragged breathing stops.

Bagheera looks to Mowgli when he sees the boy just staring at the tiger’s lifeless body.

“Are you alright Mowgli?” The panther asks, clearly concerned.

“I…I can’t believe how awful he looked,” Mowgli says. Bagheera nods.

“The Red Flower is merciless to everyone. It’s destructive power is not to be doubted,” Bagheera explains.

At the mention of Man, Mowgli glances over to the creature who looks almost exactly like him.

“Mowgli-we should report Shere Khan’s death to your mother,” Bagheera says, trying to get the boy’s attention, thought it’s not working.

“Bagheera?” Mowgli asks, looking at the large black cat.

“This is what Man looks like?” Mowgli asks him. Truth be told, Mowgli knows the answer, but he needs to hear Bagheera’s answer. Bagheera sighs, but nods.

“Yes Mowgli,” Bagheera admits, knowing what Mowgli was really asking. Mowgli looks at the injuries on the human’s bare chest. 3 long, deep claw marks slash across the Man’s chest.

“We should leave before he wakes up,” Bagheera suggests, though his tone is more insistent.

“The human needs help Bagheera, his wounds look deep,” Mowgli alerts. Bagheera falters slightly.

“Mowgli, contact with Man is forbidden,” Bagheera warns.

“You helped me…why can’t I help him?” Mowgli asks, referring to when the panther found the boy about 16 seasons ago. Not wanting to argue, Bagheera huffs and takes a step, turning.

“You can make choices for yourself…but I will obey the Law,” Bagheera says, disappearing into the Jungle.

“Bagheera—…” Mowgli tries, though he knows Bagheera is already gone. He sighs.

“I have to,” Mowgli says aloud, but more for himself.

Mowgli turns his attention to the human. His chest is bloody and his breathing is shallow and weak.

“Hold on,” Mowgli whispers before running off into the tall grasses of the Rocky Plains. He gets to a sage shrub and rips off a handful of the green plant. Mowgli hurries back. He shoves the sage into his mouth before grabbing the human and hauling the limp body onto his back, draping over his shoulders. The human’s head lolls limply on Mowgli’s left shoulder. He hears the human groan slightly.

Mowgli heads to the only other one who could possibly help him. Baloo.

“Rules were meant to be—well not necessarily broken, but certainly bent. And definitely reinterpreted, don’t ya think?” The sloth bear’s words ring in Mowgli’s mind. The boy prays that Baloo will understand.

Coming in and out of consciousness was disorienting for Santi. He couldn’t tell where he was or what was happening. He could hear grunts of exertion and slight panting with a few huffs. He feels searing pain on his chest.

Santi knows he’s being carried and vaguely thinks he’s been found by someone from the hunting party. His smoke signal…perhaps he was saved by his father, Santi wishes. He feels his one of his feet drag on the ground and a firm grip around one wrist. Feeling lightheaded, Santi shuts his eyes.

Mowgli manages to trek all the way back to Baloo’s cave. Santi feels his feet drag along the ground when he’s conscious and tries to figure out who rescued him. Santi thinks it’s Rohan, but he’s not certain. The injured teenager groans quietly, unable to talk. Mowgli stops outside the entrance, gently setting the injured human down. Mowgli takes the sage out of his mouth before calling out.

“Baloo?! Baloo-are you there?!” Mowgli calls, stepping towards the cave.

“Mowgli? What is it?” Baloo asks, walking out. His eyes widen and the bear stops in his tracks when he sees Mowgli covered in blood. Baloo’s eyes then land on the injured human behind Mowgli.

“Is..is that-?” Baloo stutters.

“A human. Baloo-please, I need to use your cave-“ Mowgli asks.

“Mowgli, I know I said bending the rules is ok, but I’m an honorary Pack member now and I really don’t want to cross your mother,” Baloo says, having known Raksha a good long while now and knows how ferocious she can get.

“Please Baloo, I just need shelter for the human. You don’t even have to help me,” Mowgli pleads. Baloo sighs.

“Please Baloo? I’ll make sure the human doesn’t cause any trouble,” Mowgli insists. Baloo looks at Mowgli and eventually nods.

“Alright. But no one knows of this, do you understand?” Baloo asks seriously.

“Yes and I agree. If Mother finds out about this, she might not forgive me,” Mowgli says and Baloo nods before motioning inside. Mowgli nods and hands Baloo the sage he managed to hang onto.

Mowgli brings the injured man creature inside and sets him down towards the back of Baloo’s cave. The bear hands Mowgli the healing herb and Mowgli nods his thanks.

“I’ll be right back,” Mowgli says, grabbing a thick slab of bark. He runs out holding the sage in one hand and the piece of bark in the other before stopping in the small, slow flowing creek that runs right outside Baloo’s cave.

Mowgli looks around and sees a paw-sized rock and uses it to smash the sage on the piece of bark. He uses the water as moisture to make it easier to mash up. Mowgli has to be careful not to use too much water.

Once the sage is mashed into a green paste, Mowgli nods in approval before hurrying back inside. He sees the human stir and Mowgli starts to gently spread the green paste over the bloody claw marks.

Santi stirs a bit before feeling something cool and slightly soothing on his burning chest. His vision comes in and out of focus, but he sees the person who saved him is definitely not from the hunting party. Fear washes over Santi, though in his injured state, he merely whimpers before blacking out again.

“Mother will be suspicious if I don’t spend nights at home. Baloo I’ll need to leave the human here at night until he’s healed,” Mowgli explains.

“Mowgli I don’t feel comfortable around…them…” Baloo says, eyeing the human suspiciously.

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to do a thing,” Mowgli assures the bear.

“What if the human rubs off the sage? I cannot put the healing paste on,” Baloo says.

“Good point. Oh-hold on,” Mowgli says, hurrying over to the honey stash. Now that they are older, Bagheera doesn’t look down on Baloo having his honey stash. Hunting is no longer something to look forward to, but a chore. Laying in the sun is much more satisfying nowadays according to the panther.

Mowgli grabs a strong vine he weaved that’s also small enough to wrap around paws. He takes it and wraps the human’s front paws together behind its back. Mowgli makes sure the vine is tight and secure before looking up through the hole in the top of Baloo’s cave. Mowgli sees the sun setting and realizes he has to head back home.

About a day and a half passes before Santi finally wakes up and stays awake. While his chest does ache from soreness, it is no longer the same searing, burning pain that was more unbearable. The teenager realizes his hands are tied behind him rather quickly and starts struggling to get free, though it’s not working. He looks and sees the wounds on his chest are covered with a green paste and wonders what it is.

“Rohan? Amir?…Father?” Santi asks aloud, wondering who it is that saved him. Santi wonders why his hands are tied together. The teen looks around and is surprised to see he’s in a cave. To the left of him is a pile of honeycomb that oozes out onto the floor. Santi also spots vines coiled up and a bunch of grass and leaves scattered around for what looks like a sleeping area.

He wants to move but his chest aches and Santi looks at the green paste covering the injured area. That’s when Santi hears footsteps approaching. The teenager shifts as much as he can without his chest hurting too much. Santi feels around and grabs a palm-sized flat stone and wraps his fingers around it to hide just in case.

Santi’s eyes glance over to the entrance, spotting a figure approaching him. His vision focuses and adjusts to make out the details of the figure before freezing in shock. It’s a kid! Well, a teenager, around Santi’s age. But he’s wearing nothing but a faded red loincloth. Santi feels his breathing start to increase out of fear.

“Wh-Who are you?” Santi rasps out. The teenager’s bright dark eyes bore into Santi.

“I’m Santi…did you save me?” Santi tells the unfamiliar teenager. The long-haired teen nods, pointing at Santi’s chest.

“Heal you,” the wild boy tells Santi, “no touch.” Santi nods.

“Thank you,” Santi tells his mysterious savior.

“What’s your name?” Santi asks again but frowns when the other boy appears confused.

“Your name…what are you called?” Santi tries rephrasing.

“M-Mo…Mow-gleeeee…Mowgli,” the boy introduces, sounding out his name. Mowgli points at Santi.

“San-teeeee….Santi,” Mowgli repeats and Santi smiles and nods weakly.

“Yeah-I’m Santi…are you…are you from the village?” Santi asks. Mowgli shakes his head.

Santi remembers where he is and looks around.

“Is this…your home?” Santi asks. Mowgli didn’t seem to understand the question, so Santi motions around to the cave before pointing at Mowgli.

“Your home?” Santi asks again.

“Yes…no…cave is Baloo…I come here, but not home,” Mowgli explains as best he can with his limited knowledge.

When Mowgli was 13, he had learned from Baloo that humans have their own language and had assumed Mowgli knew it as well, being a human. Baloo didn’t know a lot about Man, only what he’d heard through rumors from Bagheera, Akela and Kaa. Chil the kite bird also shared stories of times he’s seen humans.

Baloo knew from past experience that lying to Mowgli was a lot worse than telling him the truth, even if the boy didn’t want to hear it. So any time Mowgli would ask about humans or the Manvillage, Baloo would try and be as truthful as he could, though Mowgli understands that he doesn’t know EVERYTHING.

It’s thanks to the old sloth bear that Mowgli had the courage to start trying to learn Man’s language. Mowgli didn’t want Bagheera to know. The very first thing Baloo taught him is that moving a head up and down means yes and side to side means no.

“Is…is it..dead?” Santi asks. Mowgli snaps out of his thoughts and remembers stabbing the tiger with his sharpened stick. Mowgli nods.

“I kill Shere Khan,” Mowgli says. Santi looks away. Mowgli sees a familiar feeling on Santi’s face. It’s a feeling of…disappointment. Mowgli was familiar with it, mostly when he was younger.

“Why face?” Mowgli asks, pointing to his face. Santi looks at Mowgli.

“My father…he will be disappointed in me. I couldn’t stand a chance against…Sh-Shere Khan,” Santi says, using the name Mowgli used. Mowgli smiles with realization. As he learned the language of Man, humans could learn the language of the wolf. They just had to be taught.

“Father,” Mowgli repeats. Santi nods before wincing in pain slightly. Mowgli notices and frowns. He approaches Santi slowly before gently reaching out and inspecting the wound. It’s not as red as it was and the bleeding stopped, though the claw marks are deep.

“Where did you learn healing?” Santi asks.

“Bagheera,” Mowgli states.

“What’s Bagheera?” Santi asks.

“Panther. Panther smart, told me healing,” Mowgli explains. Santi’s eyes widen. A panther?

“A…panther?” Santi asks.

“What about your mother and father?” Santi asks. Mowgli frowns in confusion.

“You know…Baloo. Isn’t that your father?” Santi asks. Mowgli chuckles and now Santi frowns in confusion.

“Baloo. Papa bear. Best friend. Baloo is best friend,” Mowgli explains.

“Do you have a father or a mother?” Santi asks. It would explain a lot about Mowgli, why he’s almost naked, talks about animals, and why his speech is broken. Mowgli seems to recognize the last word and he nods vigorously.

“Mother! Mother is strong and brave and kind,” Mowgli says. Santi awes at Mowgli’s explanation and, if truth be told, Santi was a bit jealous. He’d always wondered what it was like to have a mother. His father, Dev, would talk about Santi’s mother, Dev’s wife, whenever Santi would ask, but he’d never talk about her willingly to Santi. And even when the boy would ask his father, he could tell how sad his father would get from reliving past memories, so he eventually stopped asking so his father wouldn’t get upset thinking about her.

But thinking about his father makes Santi realize that his father is strong, brave and kind. In a way…Dev has been Santi’s father and his mother.

“And your father?” Santi asks. He watches Mowgli’s face fall.

“Killed…by Shere Khan,” Mowgli answers solemnly. Santi’s jealousy evaporates instantly and is replaced with empathy.

“My mother was killed…but I have my father,” Santi tells Mowgli, understanding the pain of losing a parent.

“Do you think you could…untie me?” Santi asks, moving his arms from behind his back. His wrists are still tied together with the vines Mowgli weaved together. Mowgli eyes Santi suspiciously.

“No touch healing paste,” Mowgli warns and Santi nods.

“I won’t,” he promises Mowgli. Santi watches Mowgli nod slightly before moving to get behind him. Mowgli unties Santi and the injured teen sighs with relief.

“Thanks,” Santi tells Mowgli.

Meanwhile elsewhere in the Jungle…

Dev makes his way towards the Swamp. It’s a bit out of the way from the last known area the tiger was spotted, but Dev thought he should check anyways. That is, until he looked up and saw a wispy trail of smoke! Dev’s eyes widen and he races in the direction he saw the pale gray smoke. He hopes it’s a tiger sighting rather than a call for help and he wishes it wasn’t his son either way.

If he was being honest with himself, Dev hadn’t been real present with Santi when the boy was younger. It was when Santi was around 10 that Dev realized how independent Santi had become and had shown an interest in hunting. Dev knew that he should bond with his son for multiple reasons but a big reason is to make up for lost time. He knew he was supposed to provide for Santi, but after the death of his wife, he misplaced his anger onto his son, which wasn’t fair to the boy. But after all these years, Santi is now almost a grown man and Dev doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened to Santi. Santi is all Dev has left.

After hiking a good 10 miles, Dev finds himself at the source of the smoke. He sees a small pile of green leaves that have blackened edges and tips. He looks around and doesn’t see anyone.

“Rohan? Amir? Ishan? Santi?” Dev asks, calling out each name, “is anyone there?!” Dev asks. He looks around and that’s when he spots the footprint in the ground. He sees it’s a bit smaller than a grown adult’s. Santi, Dev thinks.

Dev looks around and spots a patch of grass that’s been crushed. He sees a couple broken twigs sticking out from a nearby bush and his eyes widen. There’s been a struggle. Dev scans the surrounding area and finds a few drops of blood and gasps. Dev spots a footprint Santi’s size before he goes about 20 feet to the left to look around. That’s when he spots the stick. It’s pointing up awkwardly and Dev pushes past the bushes and walks around the trees until he spots the monster on the ground. Nothing but limp flesh, Dev feels his stomach churn at the sight of the creature that’s no longer the formidable tiger it used to be. Dev spots the blind eye of Shere Khan which is the only reason Dev is able to identify the tiger. Small patches of Khan’s pelt are still visible but mostly around his nose, eyes and ears. Dev understands why the young woman, Messua, thought it was a monster killing our cattle. In his current state, Shere Khan likely couldn’t hunt anything else as cattle are slow, easy pray, even for a creature as injured as he was. Dev sees the bloody stick poking out of Khan.

Dev’s happy the tiger is dead and out of his misery, but Dev’s also worried about his son, wondering if he’s alright. That’s all he wants, really. Dev continues, trying to follow the trail.

“DEV!” Dev hears his name being called as he makes his way through the dense Seeonee Jungle. Dev’s eyes widen and he feels a bit of relief when he recognizes the voice.

“Amir!? AMIR!” Dev looks around before spotting the bearded man approaching.

“Dev! I’m glad you are unharmed. Who sent the smoke signal?” Amir asks before his eyes spot the body of Shere Khan. His eyes widen and has a similar reaction as Dev did.

“Let’s talk somewhere else,” Dev suggests and motions away and Dev agrees quickly.

“I’m not sure who started the signal,” Dev says, clearly worried.

“Hey-Santi’s a great hunter. He even outshoots me a few times. I’m sure he’s ok,” Amir tries assuring Dev. Growing up, Amir, Rohan and Ishan have all looked up to Dev so they see Dev as an older brother figure. Dev nods.

“Hey if anything I’m sure it’s Ishan. You know how he always leaps before he looks,” Amir tries, earning a dry chuckle from Dev.

“C’mon, I think the others should be nearby. Let’s split up and look for them,” Amir suggests and Dev nods.

“Right, meet back here,” Dev says and Amir nods and the two split up.

It didn’t take long for Dev to find Rohan and for Amir to find Ishan, so they were able to meet back up fairly quickly.

“I didn’t start the signal,” Rohan says and Dev looks to Ishan.

“Neither did I,” Ishan adds.

“Then…it was Santi,” Dev says. No one says anything, but now that Dev knows it was Santi who started the smoke signal, Dev realizes that Santi crossed paths with Shere Khan.

Amir breaks the news about the tiger to Rohan and Ishan and even shows them the scarred, deformed body. The men gather around away from the lifeless body.

“Shere Khan is dead, that must mean that Santi sent the smoke signal because he spotted the tiger,” Rohan suggests.

“If it was for sighting Khan, where is Santi? He could’ve been hurt after engaging with the tiger. An animal like that is unpredictable,” Dev asks.

“That’s true. Why hasn’t Santi appeared unless he-“ Ishan begins, but that’s when Amir nudges his side roughly. Ishan groans and sends a look to Amir, who glares back at his friend.

“Let’s focus on finding Santi before we worry about anything else,” Rohan suggests logically. Dev nods in agreement. Finding Santi should be priority.

Back in Baloo’s cave, Santi has managed to sit up and Mowgli has given him a water filled fruit shell he made when he was 10. The only time Mowgli used it was when they went to Peace Rock for water. Santi takes a refreshing drink before looking at Mowgli. Santi sets the shell down.

“You’re not from the village, are you?” Santi asks, wiping his mouth nonchalantly. Mowgli shakes his head.

“Mother is leader of Seeonee Wolf Pack,” Mowgli explains. Santi looks at Mowgli.

“Your mother…is a wolf?” Santi asks. Mowgli howls.

“I am Mowgli of the Seeonee,” Mowgli states. The pieces start to connect in Santi’s mind and he realizes that Mowgli is a feral child, raised by wolves.

A million questions race by in Santi’s mind that he wants to ask Mowgli.

“Am I the first human you’ve seen?” Santi settles on a question.

“No..I saw before…6 seasons ago,” Mowgli explains, though Santi notices Mowgli is starting to look uncomfortable.

“Are you ok?” Santi asks.

“I…I saw them…the humans…when I took the Red Flower-“ Mowgli says. Santi’s eyes widen in realization. All those years ago. The shadowy figure Santi saw on the bridge. He’d seen the figure take the torch but didn’t think anything of it as the torches are there to use. It wasn’t until the alarm for the huge jungle fire that started did Santi put two and two together. By then, he was already too scared to say anything. Adding in that the fire was put out rather quickly, no one really thought anything of it.

“You took the fire?“ Santi asks and Mowgli nods sadly.

“Santi!” Mowgli suddenly hears a voice yell in the distance and Santi sees the feral teen tense up.

“You…I hear your name,” Mowgli alerts. Santi’s eyes widen.

“The hunters-“ Santi replies automatically. Mowgli flinches at the word ‘hunters’, knowing what that means.

“No-No-it’s ok. My father is one of them. I…am one of them,” Santi explains and Mowgli takes a step back, gasping quietly.

“But we only hunt if we have to—only to eat and so we’re not killed. That’s what my father taught me and that’s what he’s taught the others,” Santi explains and Mowgli settles slightly.

“Not…for sport?” Mowgli asks and Santi shakes his head.

“My father and I have never hunted for sport,” Santi assures Mowgli.

Mowgli looks and sees the sincerity in Santi’s eyes. The stories he’s heard would be on the contrary, but Mowgli knows better than anyone that you should judge someone by their heart and their actions rather than what they are and their prejudices.

“Hunt to eat,” Mowgli says and Santi nods.

“Santi!!!” The voice yells, getting a bit louder since he’s getting closer. The voice is loud enough that Santi recognizes it as his father’s voice! Mowgli looks to Santi.

“We will meet again, Santi,” Mowgli says and climbs out the skylight hole.

“Mowgli wait!” Santi calls out, but the other teenager is already gone. Santi gets to his feet and walks out.

“Father?! FATHER!” Santi calls out.

“SANTI!! DON’T MOVE!! WE’RE COMING!” Dev calls back as Santi steps out of the cave’s entrance. He sees a beautiful small flowing creek covered with purple flowers right in front of the cave.

Santi hears rustling nearby get louder and louder so he turns and that’s when his father breaks through the plant life, followed by the other volunteer hunters.

“Santi!” Dev exclaims, rushing forward, wrapping his son in a hug, despite Santi’s grunts of pain. While he is mostly healed and the claw marks have scabbed, Santi’s chest is still a bit sore and tender.

“Father-“ Santi pleads and the tone of his son’s voice causes Dev to back off. He looks and sees Santi’s bare chest is covered in a green paste that smeared onto his own clothes.

“Y-You’re hurt-“ Dev realizes.

“I’m ok Father-really,” Santi assures his father.

“Did you…kill the tiger?” Dev asks. Santi doesn’t answer at first. The fear of telling the truth causes Santi to look away.

“No…I’m sorry Father. Shere Khan caught me off guard,” Santi says.

“Do not be sorry my son. I’m just glad you’re alive,” Dev tells him.

“Khan…was dead when we found him,” Amir pipes up, motioning to the other hunters.

“Who did this?” Dev asks Santi, motioning to the green paste covering his bare chest.

“I was saved by a boy my age. He was the one that killed Shere Khan,” Santi explains.

“A boy? Who? You are the eldest male child of the village and the 2nd eldest is only 10,” Rohan asks.

“Santi can tell us later, but right now, we need to get you help,” Dev argues, letting his son use him for stability. Santi leans heavily on his father, not because he’s too weak, but because the boy missed his father. Sant was worried he’d never see his father again.

Rohan helps Dev with Santi while Amir and Ishan keep ready just in case anything happens. While his father and the others didn’t get a good look at the cave, Santi manages a glance behind himself.

Meanwhile, Mowgli manages to make it back to the Wolf Pack territory and back to the dens. Mowgli goes over the whole interaction with the human, including killing Shere Khan. Even remembering what the tiger looked like was unnerving for Mowgli so he doesn’t dwell on that particular moment.

He remembers seeing Santi on the ground, bloody and unconscious and Mowgli remembers feeling a need to protect. Honestly Mowgli still can’t really explain it, but he felt that way about any living creature in need. Akela told him once that he was special because of his selflessness. That is what makes a wolf, Akela had said.

“Mowgli-there you are,” the boy hears Bagheera’s silky voice. He looks and sees the panther up in a nearby tree.

“Bagheera…I…I was with the human-“ Mowgli tells the panther, not wanting to lie or keep things hidden. Bagheera nods.

“I figured,” he replies understandingly.

“He..wasn’t like some of the stories I’ve heard…and they’re not scary looking in the day,” Mowgli says and Bagheera nods.

“This particular human…” Mowgli trails off, stopping in his tracks. Bagheera stops and looks back at the boy. Noticing Mowgli isn’t making eye contact, Bagheera turns, focusing on him.

“What is it Mowgli?” Bagheera asks.

“You said I’m human, right Bagheera?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera nods.

“Yes,”

“Could there be other humans…like me?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera thinks on Mowgli’s question.

“Mowgli, you are uniquely you. You may be a human, but there are no humans like you,” Bagheera explains.

“But, if there was…do you think Ami would like him?” Mowgli asks and Bagheera’s eyes widen.

“Mowgli your mother is firm on the Laws of the Jungle. You deserve to know who you are so I will not mention your activities to your mother or anyone in the pack. But you cannot get caught,” Bagheera says. Mowgli nods.

“Thank you Bagheera,” Mowgli tells him, knowing Bagheera doesn’t have to keep his secrets. The panther nods.

“Of course,” he says before motioning with his head for the boy to follow.

“Come, it’s getting late,” Bagheera says and together, they walk back to the dens, where the Wolf Pack live.

Dev and the hunting party manage to hike all the way back and once they cross the bridge, others from the village hurry over to help.

“Messua, get the bandages,” Dev says and the young woman nods, hurrying off.

Dev takes Santi with Amir’s help and gets back to the small house tucked in the corner of the village. Dev sets Santi down on the bed gently and helps the boy lay back.

“Does it hurt son?” Dev asks.

“Sore…but it’s not too bad,” Santi says. Dev knows his son has a high tolerance for pain so for Santi to admit anything must be a lot for him. Dev nods.

“Ok, don’t worry son,” Dev tries comforting Santi. Santi nods and shuts his eyes. Messua comes in a few moments later holding a few different items.

“Thank you Messua,” Dev says as she gets to work.

“Of course Dev, he’ll be ok, your boy is strong,” Messua says as she starts wiping off the green paste on Santi’s chest.

“No-don’t-“ Santi tries, but Messua gently holds his hand down.

“I’m sorry I have to wipe your chest off,” she says and at the insistence of his father, Santi lets Messua work.

As Messua works, Dev’s able to see just how badly Santi got hurt and the boy can’t miss the worry plastered all over his father’s face.

“Father-it’s just a bit sore-I’m ok,” Santi says. Messua wraps Santi’s chest with bandage cloth.

“Sage..a great medicinal plant. I didn’t figure you two as herbalists,” Messua tells Santi and Dev.

“I’m not-“ Dev shakes his head.

“It was Mowgli, Father,” Santi says.

“Who is Mowgli?” Messua asks.

“He’s a boy my age. He lives in the Jungle and he was the one that helped me when Shere Khan caught me off guard,” Santi explains.

“Hm, well sounds like a smart kid,” Messua says.

Once Messua finishes with Santi, Dev gifts her a small basket of fruits and vegetables Dev recently harvested from his garden.

“Thank you Dev, but you really don’t have to-“ Messua tries, but Dev holds up a hand to stop her.

“I know, I want to,” Dev insists and Messua smiles before nodding.

“Thank you for getting rid of Shere Khan,” Messua says and Dev nods. The father and son duo head outside and meet up with the other volunteer hunters and Santi tells them everything that happened. Santi spends the next week or so resting and healing, but he can’t get that mysterious wild boy named Mowgli out of his head.

Back at the Wolf Pack dens, Mowgli and Bagheera head over towards Raksha and her den.

“Mowgli, where were you?” Raksha asks. Mowgli looks to Bagheera before looking at his mother.

“I was at Baloo’s,” Mowgli answers. While he isn’t exactly lying, he isn’t telling Raksha everything either.

While both boys think about their chance encounter, it isn’t until Santi has fully recovered, albeit with claw scars raked across his chest, that he goes to seek out Mowgli. While it was quite a trek to get there, Santi could remember what the cave looked like.

The two met up by chance and managed to stay in contact with each other, eventually becoming friends. The days turned to weeks, which turned into months. Mowgli could have never imagined himself friends with a human. Being leader has distracted Raksha enough that she nor anyone else in the Pack has figured out Mowgli sees a human rather regularly.

The boys had initially bonded over the loss of a parental figure, but they also learned they are rather different from each other. Mowgli would tell Santi stories about the Pack and his animal family while Santi would tell Mowgli about village life and what it’s like to be a human.

Bagheera and Baloo may have initially been skeptical, but now, after having seen how much happier Mowgli has been since meeting his human friend Santi, the pair of animals would much rather Mowgli break a Law than be miserable forever. Seeing Mowgli relate to a human but also choose to come back and live his life with his family has made both Baloo and Bagheera realize that Mowgli is exactly who he needs to be.

End.

[thepilgrimbetweenworlds]

Power Trip, Part 3

Ben was so not having a good time right now. Today totally started out normal, or as normal as a kid who could transform into ten alien heroes could be. He and Gwen were visiting this space camp in Pennsylvania, an event Ben had been excited for, at least until he saw how boring it really was. All they did was talk about the technical know how of how to operate a spacecraft. While Gwen was obviously gushing about all that techno mumbo jumbo, Ben was bored to tears. This isn’t the kind of space stuff he wanted to see. He interested in only one thing besides Sumo Slammers and rotting his brain with TV he shouldn’t be watching (his mind briefly lurched at the thought of Xingo). Ben was a hero, and he had these awesome alien forms at his disposal. Space should be a whole lot cooler than this, but no, it was all talks of lame technical crap. At first, he almost wished some villain would come by and start something, anything, but Ben realized it might be best to just hope this trip went smoothly.

Now, Ben was cursing his bad luck and hiding in a storage closet until the Omnitrix recharged. He could remember it vividly; As he and Gwen were touring one of the exhibits, someone ran in yelling about some kind of monster that was destroying the town. At first, Ben was excited. “Finally, some action!” he had thought when the monster in question smashed through the front door. He was already Heatblast before the dust had even cleared, and he had some awesome fire quips ready for whatever was causing so much trouble… only for his words to die in his mouth when he saw it. He couldn’t describe it in full; it was already on him. It looked like one of the enemies he would see in a Sumo Slammers game. Except, something about the way it looked felt twisted. Unnatural, more like it. As Ben fought the creature, he was overwhelmed by its strength and sheer ferocity. Heatblast’s fireballs did practically nothing against it, and he swore its smoldering hide burned hotter with each strike.

The worst part came when it took him down. It wrapped him in its four cracked, scarred arms and drained the fire right out of Heatblast. Ben had never felt so cold before! Luckily the Omnitrix timed out and gave Ben the opportunity to escape the mutant’s grasp. Now here he was, trying not to be discovered while the creature rampaged through the building. Gwen was with him, thank God, but then he realized “oh yeah… Gwen was with him.”

“I hope you’re happy Ben.” Gwen whispered indignantly. “You wanted excitement, now you got it.” Ben crossed his arms and pouted.

“Hey, it’s not my fault. I just can’t help being a magnet for the bad guys.” Ben was certain he’d get a punch in the arm for that comment at any other time. Gwen settled for an angry glare.

“Ben, now’s not the time to be a glory hound. Listen to it out there.” From their hiding place, Ben and Gwen could both hear the creature demolishing the museum, the sounds of smashing and fiery explosions filling the air. “It’s only a matter of time before it finds us.”

“Don’t worry Gwen. Soon as the watch recharges, I’ll give this walking bed sore a good ole taste of Shock Rock.” Ben said, proudly slapping the Omnitrix. For as much bravado as he puts on, Ben couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. The watch should’ve recharged by now? Was it something that thing did to him? He looked at the watch, staring at the dull red dial with a hopeful expression.

“Should recharge any second now.” Nothing. “Any second now.” Still nothing. His brow furrowed. “Any. Second. Now.” Still. Nothing. He hated being wrong. He hated admitting when he was wrong. Gwen was unsurprised.

“Ya know, sometimes I question if our victory against the Fulmini was just pure luck.” Gwen whispered, trying not to gag at the memory of having to team up with Vilgax. Ben could be so annoying sometimes, always rushing in to be the hero, not to mention constantly ignoring her perfectly good advice. At least he wasn’t like Kevin.

Oddly enough, she found her thoughts drifting to Kevin lately. He had been a constant thorn in their side since that incident at Biggie Box. Each of his goons, mutated copies of Ben’s aliens, displayed recklessness and viciousness on a scale few of their foes could match. They’ve harassed them all summer, and all so Kevin can settle some pointless grudge. Boys, she’d never understand them. Yet at the same time, there was something about Kevin that oddly drew her to him. Maybe it was his demeanor, or the fact that he’d talk to her while Ben was fighting his aliens. And to be honest… Kevin was kinda…

“Woah, what are you doing girl?!” Gwen thought, suppressing her blush. Kevin was a bully and a supervillain! She couldn’t afford to get lost in her feelings. Her mind inadvertently drifted to thoughts of Michael Morningstar and that poor girl he’d manipulated to be his pawn. What a mess that was. A part of her wondered if that girl, Heather was her name she thought, was doing better now. Her focus returned to Ben, who was gnawing at the watch with a furious expression. What would he do without her?

“Ben, give it a rest. The watch isn’t gonna recharge anytime soon. We need to sneak out while that thing is busy. If we can get to the Rust Bucket we can get Glitch and lead it out of town.” Ben looked at her with disbelief. “Why do you gotta be such a sissy? We just need to wait for the –“ Gwen suddenly pressed her hand to Ben’s mouth, silencing the bratty hero.

“Ben, think about this. When that thing grabbed you as Heatblast, you turned back, and the watch would’ve recharged by now. I’m telling you to think critically for once. This isn’t a battle with the Bugg Bros, or Zombozo, or even Queen Bee! This is actually serious!”

As if on cue, the door, and much of the wall surrounding it, where smashed in by a beefy, pockmarked arm. It grabbed Gwen by the head, pulling the screaming redhead out. “Gwen!” Was all Ben could muster before being grabbed by the wrist, keeping him from accessing the Omnitrix. The monster yanked them both out, swinging them around to face them. As an alien, Ben would’ve been emboldened by the urge to fight back. Now his eyes went wide as he got a better look at his snarling foe. Its massive body heaved and crackled with rage, flesh flaking to reveal swirling purple fire underneath. It’s first set of malformed arms kept the cousins in a death grip, while its smaller pair held its disproportionate torso up. Its four mismatched eyes stared at him with wild intensity, the monster growling with barely repressed hate. Ben smashed his free hand feebly against the beasts fist, hoping to free his arm in vain. The curt, deep laugh of a young teenage girl interrupted him.

“Oh look at that. Not so formidable without your worthless aliens, now are we?” Ben recognized puzzled at the voice as the monster’s mastermind floated above them all, kept aloft by magic spell paper. He knew that voice, and he recognized that power. “Charmcaster!?” Before he could say more, one of the creature’s other hands struck him hard across the face. Ben went limp in its grip, unconscious. “BEN!” Gwen struggled as the monster’s grip tightened slightly, feeling her the pressure ramp up.

“There’s no use struggling Tennyson. My new pet doesn’t let his prey go that easily.” Charmcaster said, rifling through her spell book with an ill-fitting ennui. Gwen looked up as best she could and stared at the witch. “Charmcaster! What are you doing here?” Gwen questioned. “I’m not one to monologue when the moment is right, so I’ll keep this brief. I’m taking the next big step in my journey to self-improvement, Gwen.” She spat Gwen’s name. “And that next step is to cut any and all toxic influences out of my life. Can you guess what it is?” Charmcaster’s fist glowed with magic power, arcs of energy burrowing into her minion’s flesh. It reared back and roared with pain, its body pulsing from the flux of energy. Gwen could feel its grip tighten further, and her vision began to swim.

“I don’t understand, why are you doing this?” Gwen asked, literally gripped with fear. Charmcaster floated down and commanded the creature to relent its grip slightly. “I’m taking an initiative Tennyson. You’re the last reminder of the failures of my old self, and with you dead, all ties to poor, pathetic Heather will be severed. I should thank you, but that would mean having to put myself at your level.” Charmcaster’s grim glare betrayed a sliver of jealousy.

“Don’t do this Heather! This isn’t who you want to be, I know it!” Gwen pleaded. “What do you know about me Gwen,” Charmcaster spat back. “, besides being superior to me. You, with your perfect life and happy family. Never bullied at school, never looked down on because of your interests?” Charmcaster’s power flared with her anger.

“That’s not true! You think my life is perfect? You think I’m not ridiculed all the time?” She hated what she was about to say next, but she had to keep Charmcaster talking long enough for some kind of help to arrive. Anything. “My doofus of a cousin keeps dragging me into all these fights against these supervillains, and he puts my life at risk every time. All I wanted was a nice, normal summer vacation.”

“At least you have someone who loves you!” Charmcaster yelled. “Even at your worst, you have someone to fall back on, someone there to catch you. Heather had no one like that, but now I have the power to take that safety for myself.” Charmcaster floated back above them and cycled through more pages. A devious smile appeared on her face. “In fact, I’ve already done so. Wouldn’t you agree Kevin?”

Gwen felt her blood run cold. She stared at the monster’s face, staring horrified at its misshapen face. She recognized the mob of black hair that now hung in clumps around its face, and the bike lock necklace around its neck. Its arms, its eyes, that fire… the same powers from Hotshot and Quadsmack… Realization struck Gwen like a freight train.

“KEVIN!?” Gwen screamed in terror. Charmcaster cackled loudly at her prey’s distress. “I knew you had a thing for bad boys, but Kevin Levin? I’m shocked someone with your high standards would want someone as pathetic as him. Her grin widened. “He told me all about his little crush on you, and I learned how much we had in common. Unlike you, I don’t ignore those beneath me. I’ve taken this feckless bully and transformed him into something greater. And we’ll both be even better once he takes your cousins power.”

Gwen stared at the unconscious Ben, terror and fear dancing in her gaze. She looked back to Kevin and noticed a strange looking parchment fused to his chest. The symbol glowed with a supernatural haze, veins of energy pulsing across his malformed self. If Charmcaster had done this with only two of Kevin’s aliens…

“Please… Heather… don’t do this.” Gwen’s pleas fell on deaf ears as Kevin’s fist tightened around her head. Charmcaster breathed in, her breath shaky with repressed anger. “I promised Kevin I’d make this quick… but I’m afraid I’m not beyond a little show. Goodbye Gwen.”

At her behest, Kevin’s grip tightened slowly. Gwen’s vision swam as she punched feebly at his grip, trying to break free to no avail. The pressure was ramping up, the pain increasing with each passing second. All Gwen could do was scream bloody murder, all the while Charmcaster stared with a sadistic smile on her face. Gwen silently begged for anyone to save her. Grandpa Max. Glitch. Mom and Dad. Tears dripped from her eyes as the pressure became unbearable, her screams louder and more desperate. This wasn’t how she wanted to go.

“*ROOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR!!!!” Came a mighty roar. Suddenly, something big slammed directly into Kevin, knocking everyone away. Ben and Gwen were tossed away, sliding into the rubble of one of the exhibits, while Gwen’s savior tackled Kevin into the adjacent wall. Charmcaster was knocked off balance and slammed hard into the ground, knocking the wind out of her. Gwen’s vision blurred and swam, her brain trying to recover from the crushing pressure. With all her will, she staved off the desire to sleep and stared groggily at her savior…

Bashmouth roared with fury as he landed wild, heavy blows into the creature’s body. He didn’t know where this thing had come from, but he needed to take it down now. He planted several powerful crosses to its face; each blow caused the wall to crumble further, finally coming down on the beast thanks to a righteous dropkick to its face. Bashmouth stepped back and roared at the monster. “IS THAT IT MOTHERFUCKER!? WHAT ELSE YOU FUCKIN’ GOT!?”

“Oh who is this? Another one of Kevin’s little packmates?” Charmcaster said wearily, struggling to recover her breath. Bashmouth stared at her, then back to the beast in the rubble. One look was all it took for the alien to realize who it was. “Kevin… WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?” He roared, his snarling face turned to Charmcaster.

“It doesn’t matter now you wild mutt. Kevin could always use a little more power. After all, he won’t be needing you after I’m done.” With a snap of her fingers, a surge of power entered Kevin’s body, sending him into a rage. He erupted from the rubble, charging at Bashmouth and tackling him to the ground. He smashed his face and chest with a flurry of blows from both sets of arms, but Bashmouth powered through and headbutt thrice. He kicked the dazed Kevin off him and quickly stood up, staring at Charmcaster once more.

“You’re gonna turn him back now, or I’ll make you wish your mother never met your father.” Charmcaster felt rage build in her chest. How dare that mangy mongrel. “Silence mutt! What do you care anyways? Kevin may have created you, but all he’s done is use you like common henchmen. He’s nothing but a liar and feckless tormenter!”

Bashmouth felt his stomach drop at “liar.” For a moment he became lost in his emotions, remembering what he had discovered. Suddenly, Gwen’s voice called out. “Bashmouth… Kevin’s… chest…” was all Gwen could muster before she finally succumbed to unconsciousness. Bashmouth stared at a recovered Kevin’s chest. He spied the paper digging into his cracked skin. “Come on teen witch, THROW EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT AT ME!” He challenged, gauntlets at the ready.

“Fine… time to break you mutt.” Charmcaster fired off a series of energy bolts at Bashmouth; he blocked several with his gauntlets and dodged the rest, making a beeline for Charmcaster. He lunged up but was tackled by Kevin. He grappled his head and smashed it into the ground, screaming with mindless fury. Enraged, Bashmouth coated his teeth in metal and clamped down hard on Kevin’s hand, drawing blood. The beast roared and held its injured hand, giving Bashmouth the opening he needed to kick him in the face. He pushed him off again and struggled to his feet, his head pounding. Charmcaster wasted no time and summoned another surge of power. Kevin’s hands seared and crackled with purple flame; he launched several at Bashmouth, who barely managed to dodge the flaming barrage.

“Kevin, snap out of it!” He screamed. “Don’t bother mutt. He can’t even hear you, let alone comprehend your vulgar speech.” Bashmouth dodged or deflected several more fireballs, trying to close the distance between him and Charmcaster. Unfortunately, Charmcaster cast a powerful binding spell, wrapping Bashmouth’s feet up. He tripped and fell, giving Kevin the time he needed to catch up to him. He grabbed him in a massive bear hug and summoned a coat of fire. Bashmouth roared as the fire burned his chest and back, searing his flesh and sending the foul smell into his nostrils. Clenching his teeth, he clapped his hands over Kevin’s ears. He clamped his jaws down onto Kevins neck, who roared with agony. He dropped Bashmouth and exposed his chest. Working through the pain, Bashmouth plunged his claws into Kevin’s chest. He screamed and pulled mightily, fighting to beat the magic that kept the page in place.

“No! He’s mine! I won’t let you ruin my vengeance!” Charmcaster wrapped several tendrils around Kevin and filled him with energy. To her horror however, Kevin broke the tendrils away with age and wrapped his hands around Bashmouth’s neck. His heartbeat raced as Kevin’s grip tightened; Bashmouth could feel the heat of Kevin’s flame building as Charmcaster’s power coursed through Kevin. His skin blistered as the flames danced wildly across his skin, and his face writhed with rage and pain. Bashmouth pulled and pulled, the magic bindings slowly disintegrating until the page snapped off his chest. It burned away in Bashmouth’s hands, evaporating in purple smoke. Kevin howled with furious pain as the magic holding his new form together fell apart; bands of Charmcaster’s magic exited his body madly, whipping about through the thoroughly trashed building. Kevin’s form shrank and contorted, his muscles contracting and his skin healing as he finally returned to normal. He collapsed like a lead weight, unconscious. Bashmouth immediately ran to the young boy, checking the boy for wounds.

“No! You’ve ruined everything!” Charmcaster screamed, surrounded by lapping waves of magic. Bashmouth grabbed Kevin and held him close, ignoring the burning pain in his chest. Charmcaster empowered herself, preparing a final strike against him. “No matter… Even without that weakling, I still have enough power to-“

Charmcaster was interrupted by a burning fireball slamming directly into her said, knocking her to the ground. Bashmouth looked to where it was thrown from and saw a fully revitalized and furious Hotshot. He roared, his body smoldering with rage.

“FUCKING WHORE! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!” Hotshot’s body flaming boldly and furiously. In a flash, Charmcaster slammed a piece of paper down at her feet, disappearing in a ring of magic. All that was left was seared floor tiles. Hotshot howled and sprayed flame in all directions, setting the building ablaze. He turned slowly to see Bashmouth cradling the unconscious Kevin, his furious expression hardly changing.

--

Kevin awoke feeling like the weight of the world had crushed him. He struggled to even open his eyes as the sound of a revving engine could be heard. He managed to move his head, a herculean effort in his current state, and look around. He was in some kind of mac truck from the look of it. He peered into the rearview mirror and noticed the container hooked up to the back. He turned his head and saw a battered and scarred Bashmouth driving the truck, his face tired and worn with worry. “…Bash-Bashmouth? What happened?”

Bashmouth kept his eyes on the road, not bothering to look at Kevin. His head pounded as memories of their battle swirled in his mind. “Did you… did you guys…”

“You don’t get to speak, not right now.” Bashmouth answered curtly. Kevin felt a tad threatened by that statement. He could feel something angry, resentful, coming off him. He finally spoke again. “You and I are going to have a nice, long talk when we get home…”

[maddilynmuse]

Is it Cold Outside?

Okay yes I have the Cold Island meme from My Singing Monsters stuck in my head, but figured I’d do something semi-useful with it ;laksdfj;lsfakj

Asha looks up at the dark sky, and she misses stars.

Look at for the stars in the big black ink

Asha missed the stars.

For the most part, she tried not to think about it too much, but sometimes her body was tired and her mind wasn't. And tonight--today? there was no difference anymore--was one of those nights. The stone roof of Glowworm's house was cold against her back. Her legs dangled off the edge, arms spread out. If she had any sense, she'd go inside and start a fire, but instead she was staring into the endless black.

Back in her hometown, a hometown worlds away now, the lights and trees blotted out much of the night sky, but not nearly to the extent the ever-present darkness here did. She wasn't sure how it did that, actually. For a while, she assumed she must be in a cave, but no matter how she waited, there were no showers of dirt, no dislodged rocks proving that she had simply fallen down. Sometimes the concept was exciting; a world entirely different from her own, all hers to explore. The fact that it was mostly freezing did complicate that some, but she would figure it out. Worst came to worst, well, she got here, there must've been a way back. Kyra had told her there was.

For the most part, she looked at the dark sky only briefly, focusing more on the lights in the distance and the dancing gold lanterns marking the square, the bits of silver smattered across the sea like fake stars of their own. Even when she did look up, it was usually with some sense of curiosity, with some vague feeling of a problem to fix and the excitement of being the one to finally do what all else failed to. It was exciting, most nights.

However, tonight was not one of those nights.

Footsteps came from below and paused for a moment before backing up and running forward. Glowworm vaulted up onto the house next to his own and shuffled over to lie down next to her. "Asha?"

"Yeah?"

"Got something on your mind dearie?"

Tell me what you feel and tell me what you think.

Asha let out a long sigh, watching her breath turn into a gold cloud in the lantern light. "No... Yeah. Yeah I do. Don't think you'd get it though."

"Well, try me anyways! Worst case scenario, I still don't understand, right? And I already don't understand, so can't really get worse."

Asha snorted, "Guess you're right there." She kept looking up. There was just nothing up there. It was like someone put a black blanket over the sky, blocking out everything else. "I miss the stars. I mean, fuck man, it probably sounds dumb, but I don't think you can understand it if you've never seen them. They're, like... They're a bunch of dots of light, I guess?"

"Like lanterns?"

"Kinda? But you can't touch them. Can't reach them."

"How do you keep them from going out then?"

"You don't have to," Asha said. "That's the thing. They're always there. Sure, they kinda move around, or we move? Not really sure, but when you look up at the sky, there are a few you can always see from almost anywhere on the planet. And you look up and know everyone else can see them too. And, well, they kinda got me started adventuring too. Too much lights makes them look dimmer, but my grandad took me out to the plains, and I..." She reached a hand up like she was reaching for them, like she could reach through time and take his hand again and have that moment back, that first moment when she really looked up and saw a sky full of galaxies. But, of course, she couldn't. Her hand fell and she sighed, "I miss him, I guess. And I miss the view. I wish I could show you."

Glowworm nodded. "They sound pretty."

"More than pretty, if you can get to the right place to view them. Takes a bit of looking, have to get away from people and out under an open sky, but they're gorgeous. Even without that though, like, sometimes I'd climb up trees as a kid-"

"Trees?"

"Big, woody plants. Like bushes, but taller than the buildings here. Sometimes taller than three stacked together."

"No way!"

"Yeah way! This place is fucking tiny dude!"

"Aye, suppose you have a point there."

"Yeah I do. Back to the actual point, well, we had these things called constellations. I couldn't ever memorize the 'real' ones, but they're all kinda made up anyways, heh. I would look up and draw my own pictures by connecting the dots. Sometimes some of my siblings would come up too. It was nice, y'know?" Her eyes burned, but it was hard to tell if her vision was actually blurry until she looked over at Glowworm and could only make out a shock of candy apple red against pale skin and whatever abomination he decided to wear today.

"I can only imagine," he said. "C'mere."

He brought her into a hug, but even his warmth couldn't pierce the layers of fabric and fur surrounding her. Gently, he pushed her up to sitting, "C'mon dearie, let's get you inside. I'll start a fire and some nice tea, warm you up. I know it doesn't fix it, but..."

"It's fine. Thanks. It's, uh..."

Is it cold outside?

Is it cold out?

[smells-like-mettaton]

Rating: T (for inherent neutral ending angst)

Summary: Toriel's old house feels like a mausoleum. She will gladly ignore chisp crumbs and lumpy mattresses for a place that feels more like home.  (Queen Toriel ending fic for Soriel Week 2021.)

Word Count: 5211

XXX

The bedroom was exactly how she left it. Her bed pushed up against the gray wall. A book about snails on the wooden desk. A knit sweater with the embroidered words "Mrs. Mom Lady" in the wardrobe.

Even after all this time, she could barely look at it without her soul splitting in two.

She'd known this wouldn't be easy. She hadn't seen this house in over a century. Still, she wasn't prepared for how Asgore had sealed up her old room like a tomb, a photograph of the day that everything went terribly, horribly wrong.

At least the last child was safe. They should not have had to take a life to save their own, but she doubted Asgore had given them a choice.  Her own soul felt more numb than anything.  To her, Asgore had died a century ago.

What was done, was done. And as usual, she was too late to do anything but sweep up the dust.

She backed through the doorframe, shutting the door with a quiet click. She would have to return eventually, but for now, she yearned for a place with fewer painful memories.

"Hey, Your Majesty." A voice startled her as she attempted to escape the foyer. Luckily it was a voice she would always recognize.

"Hello, old friend." She turned and smiled at the monster leaning against the stair railing.

He was smaller than she expected, with that deep voice. Not that that was a bad thing. As for him being a skeleton, that had been apparent from the abundance of bone puns.

"You know the formality is unnecessary," she told him softly.

"Is it?" He shuffled from foot to slippered foot. 

In all her time of joking with him through the door, she had never expected him to be so cute. 

"Didn't want to assume, old lady."

He winked, and she felt a weight lift from her chest. At least one monster would still treat her like a person, and not like a mythical figure returned to save them.

"Toriel," she introduced herself for the first time. He had to have heard already, but between rushing to the palace, scattering Asgore's dust, comforting their—her people… she hadn't had time to seek out her friend.

He seemed to feel comfortable walking right into her home, though. Did he ever visit Asgore when he was here? Her friend seemed like the type of monster who went wherever he felt like, and Asgore, for all his flaws, had never turned a monster away from his home.

"Sans." He held out a bony hand. "Sans the skeleton."

"Nice to meet you, Sans," she tested out the name and clasped his hand with her paw.

A loud pthbbbbbt echoed through the empty hall. Her eyes widened.

"Wow, Toriel. That's, uh, some way to make an introduction." He winked.

She squinted down at the inflatable object in his hand, the source of the farting noise. Then she pretended to ignore it.

"It certainly is. I was not aware that skeletons were capable of flatulence."

His eyelights gutted for a moment before he burst out laughing.

"Your jokes are even better in person," he said once he composed himself.

His laugh set her soul fluttering. In all their conversations through the door, he'd never laughed like that. Maybe she should have tried fart jokes sooner.

"I am always happy to tickle your funny bone." She smiled, and his face tinged blue.

"Happy to be tickled. But, uh. I guess that's not all I'm here for?"

Her breath caught in her lungs. Of course he would not visit without a reason. 

"I suppose not. Would you like to have a seat?"

"It's nothing that serious," he assured her quickly. "I just thought you'd want an update on the kid."

"You've spoken with them? They are still here?"  She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

How could they have taken Asgore’s soul and not returned home?  Had the Barrier proven too powerful?

"No—geez, I'm making this sound worse." He ran a bony palm down his face. "They’re definitely gone.  Papyrus tried to call them nonstop.  Besides that, you know the big stuff. The king's dead."

Her lips drew to a thin line, pulling tight across her fangs.

"I can hardly fault them for that."

"Right." He stuck his hands back in his pockets. "I gotta be honest. The way the kid looked when I last saw them… I don't think they did it."

Her brow furrowed. She was inclined to hope that the child had not chosen violence.  They had been so sweet, so eager to talk and joke with the monsters of the Ruins, so quick to hug her even after she’d fought them.  It was hard to imagine them striking down Asgore.

"But… then what do you think happened?"

Sans shrugged. "Wish I knew. I kept watch best I could, but…"

"I could not expect you to come between them and your king." As much as she wished he could have. She had hardly expected him to agree to watch over the human at all.

“Couldn’t have even if I wanted to.  These bones aren’t as sturdy as they look.  Maybe I shoulda listened to my bro and drank more milk...” He grimaced and glanced away.  “Anyway.  Like I said, I don’t know what happened.  Just.  Be careful, okay?”

“Careful?” She blinked.

“Yeah.  You never know.” His gaze flickered to a potted golden flower on the end table next to the stairs.

“Sans.  If I did not know better, that would sound like a threat.” She crouched down, so she could better meet his eyesockets. “Is there something you are trying to tell me?”

“Man. First I rip one in front of a lady, then I threaten her.  I’m makin’ a great first impression.”  He rocked back and forth on his slippers. “Look. Toriel. I don’t wanna scare you, ‘specially since today must’ve been hard. Real hard.”

His eyelights bored into her irises. She found herself needing to look away.

“It has certainly been… interesting. Moreso than any day since I last saw this place.” She suppressed a shudder.

Change. Her life had been constant for so long.  There would be no more of that, now. Hopefully that would be for the better, but only time would tell.

“Yeah. Being flung away from everything you’re used to… don’t imagine that’s a cakewalk. Don’t want you to worry about freaks hiding in the shadows on top of that.”

Somehow, she felt he made more sense when he was on the other side of a door. Knock-knock jokes had a formula. Just another normalcy she had forfeited, she supposed.

“Please, Sans. If you believe I am in danger, you may say so.”

“Fine. So.” He grinned, and she couldn’t help a snort.

“Alright, I suppose I walked into that one.” She smiled, despite his warning. “Under normal circumstances, I would say I could handle myself. But I must admit you are more updated on the state of the kingdom than I.  Do you have any information that could help?”

“...Not really?” His grin turned sheepish.  “You look like a tough lady. I bet my bones are rattling over nothing.”

“I would still humer-us you.”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re actually taking me seriously?”

“Why would I not? You are my friend.  Perhaps… my only friend, at this point,” she admitted.  It would be foolish to ignore a warning, even if it was based on gut feeling. Or, whatever skeletons had in place of a gut.

“Well.  Uh.  If someone, something, was behind the king’s… yeah. If it wasn’t the kid, whoever else it was might still be around. So.” He coughed. “Sounds stupid when I say it like that, huh.”

“It does not.  I think it is sweet that you are worried.” He wouldn’t be able to see her blush, thankfully. It had been a long time since anyone had looked out for her.

“Geez, Toriel.” He rubbed the back of his skull. “You’re gonna ruin my reputation.”

“What reputation? Are you typically a monster with a heart of bone?” she teased.

“Nah. I just don’t worry. Too much work.”  It was difficult to tell if he was joking.  “Guess I can make an exception this once, though.”

“Why, thank you, my friend.”  She had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze his hand.  It would be more for her own comfort than his, so she did not act on it. “To be honest, your words are a relief. I do not mind the excuse to avoid this place.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised. “You got somewhere else you’d rather be?”

She both did, and did not. How could she explain without sounding like a clinging child?

...Perhaps that was the wrong metaphor. She would have preferred her children to be a little clingier.

“‘Cause, uh, if you don’t mind a bit of mess… my door’s always open.”

She blinked at the offer. Had he felt the thoughts stirring in her soul?

She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. And she had told him the truth: there were unlikely to be any other monsters she knew still around. Perhaps Gerson; she and Asgore had always joked that he would outlive them.

That joke seemed awfully morbid now.

“Sorry. Was that too forward? Our friendship’s built off closed doors; guess we should just take 'em one at a—"

"No," she interjected too forcefully. “No. I would love to visit your home.”

Though she had never set foot there, she already suspected it would feel more like a home than this place.

“You really—? Great.” His skull tinged the faintest blue. “Just, uh, know that it’s nothing fancy.”

Toriel smiled. “‘Nothing fancy’ sounds wonderful at the moment.”

Perhaps wherever he lived would be out of the way enough that news of her return would be delayed. If she could be lucky enough to pass for an ordinary monster… well, that was likely too much to wish for. It certainly wasn’t becoming of a queen to hide from her subjects.

Stars, there was so much to get used to. So many formalities to reacquaint herself with.  She hoped such things would wait until tomorrow.

Sans returned her smile.

“In that case, I know a shortcut.”

XXX

She handled the shortcut well for a first-timer. No stumbling on the other end, no complaints of nausea or dizziness. Of course, she was a Queen. A Boss Monster. Why would a magic trick ruin her composure?

Sans wanted to laugh. All this time, he'd been joking with the Queen. She didn't seem to mind, but she could just be “humerus”ing him.

...Nah. She had every excuse to ignore him if she really wanted to. Instead she'd actually taken him up on his offer.

He almost forgot to drop her hand once their feet landed in the soft snow. Heh. Who was he kidding? It was just nice to feel her fur under his fingers. To touch her, and know that she was real.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up, reflecting the gyftmas lights strung haphazardly around the house's columns. "I remember this place!"

"You do?" Sans's browbone furrowed.

"I saw it while travelling from the Ruins to…" she trailed off.  To stop the kid from fighting Asgore.

Sans felt stupid for not trying to stop them himself.  Not that a kid that determined would’ve listened, anyway.  Still… he’d believed in them.  Hoped that by some miracle, they’d get ‘em out of this mess.

Heh. That was too much pressure to put on a kid, even a determined one.

"Yeah." He coughed quietly. "Guess we're hard to miss. Papyrus did something to the Gyftmas lights—even when the CORE lights go out for the night, ours stay on. Never figured out how he pulled that off."

Toriel laughed before seeming to realize something.

"I will get to meet your brother!" She clasped her hands together. "I wish it had not come about for such an unhappy reason, but I am excited nonetheless."

He chuckled. Her excitement was contagious. That was something she and Papyrus had in common already.

He pushed the door open, called out for his brother—and noticed the monster sprawled out on his couch.

"Oh." Sans blinked at Undyne, who was snoring so loudly, he should've heard it from outside. Guess he'd been a little distracted. "Uh. This is awkward."

"What is it?" Toriel hung back, her head ducking through the doorframe. "Is your brother sleeping? I would not wish to wake him. You said he rarely sleeps, did you not?"

"Nah, it's not him. Forgot his pal's house burned down. Actually, I'm sure you met her. Undyne? Captain of the Royal Guard?"

"I… yes, we met." Toriel edged inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click. "She looks far more peaceful now than she did this morning. From what I understand, my ex-husband was something of a father to her."

"Something like that." Sans nodded in agreement. There hadn't even been a Royal Guard until Asgore created the position for her. Sans wondered if Toriel would keep it around now that Asgore was gone.

Welp. It wouldn't hurt, what with his suspicions about Papyrus's friend "Flowery." 

(Maybe Sans should let Toriel sleep on the top floor rather than the couch anyway. No dirt for stray flowers to get into up there.)

"Should we be staring?" Toriel said with a soft chuckle.

Sans shook his thoughts away. "Sorry. Just thinking. I, uh…"

There wasn't room on the top floor. Sans's lumpy, crumb-dusted mattress was out of the question. That left only Papyrus's bed, which while rarely in use, had too much sentimental value to give to Toriel without asking. Where was Papyrus, anyway?

"Undyne!" His brother practically kicked in the door. "I have returned with nutritious—oh!"

Papyrus's sockets blinked at Toriel. Then at Sans. Then at Toriel again.

(Undyne let out another loud snore.)

"Sans?”  Papyrus dropped his groceries on the table next to the pet rock. “Why didn't you tell me we had another guest??"  

Because he was an idiot who hadn't planned past one impulsive offer. His face went a little blue.

"I guest you would figure it out," he managed to joke. 

Toriel let out a bleating laugh at that. The suddenness of it was enough to jolt Undyne awake.

"NGAHH!!" She tried to leap off the couch, but ended up rolling onto the floor. "I'm here, Asgore! I won't—oh."

Her single eye blinked up at Toriel. 

"Papyrus?" Undyne hissed through her teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the Queen was coming??"

"Because I didn't know!" Papyrus replied brightly. 

"I, uh, promise I'm usually more professional than this." Undyne summoned an energy spear and used it to push herself to her feet. The attack left a small char mark on the carpet. "I am at your service, Your Majesty."

Sans thought she looked real professional in a pair of Papyrus's MTT-brand crop top pajamas. Toriel didn't comment on that though, instead opting for a matronly smile.

"There is no need for that, Captain. I am not here on business, but as a friend."

That smile turned towards Sans, and he fought back a blush.

"Yeah. I was just gonna, uh, make some dinner. Y'know, welcome our queen back with some Snowdin hospitality."

"Dinner?" Papyrus squinted suspiciously. "You don't cook dinner. I cook dinner."

"First time for everything, right?" Sans winked to hide his embarrassment. 

Of course Papyrus wouldn't buy his excuse. But he really didn't want his brother and Undyne worrying on top of Toriel. Granted, it was Undyne's job to worry about security threats… but she'd tear up the house's foundation if she thought an enemy might be hiding anywhere in a five-mile radius. 

"Sans," Toriel chided him. "You do not owe me that."

"Wowie! You must be a great influence on him, Bald Asgore!"

Toriel blinked before bursting out laughing. Sans's grin widened. 

"Her name is Toriel, bro."

"Of course!! Where are my manners?" Papyrus bustled past him to shake Toriel's paws. "I am the Great Papyrus! It's an honor to meet you, Queen Toriel!"

"The honor is mine. Sans has told me so much about you," she said, and Papyrus blushed pink.

"You? Know the new queen?" Undyne whispered to Sans while Papyrus and Toriel got acquainted.

"You know me. I know everyone." He winked.

"She came out of nowhere."

"Yeah. My bro and I know what that's like."

Undyne huffed, but Sans didn't offer a more thorough explanation.

Papyrus's affronted shout signalled that Toriel had dropped her first pun.

"I take it back! This is the worst day of my life!!" 

Sans met Toriel's eyes, and they both laughed.

"I suppose I will have to help Sans in the kitchen as my pun-ishment," she said with a coy wink.

"Normally I would object to a guest cooking, but in this case I will make an exception!" Papyrus turned on his heel and grabbed Undyne's arm. "We will clean up the living room in the meantime! Try not to corrupt the queen any further, Sans!!"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro."

He gave a quick wink to Toriel behind Papyrus's back, and they moved to the kitchen.

"Did I actually upset him…?" She asked once they were out of earshot.

"Nah. He's just dramatic like that. He'll drop three puns per sentence when he thinks I'm not listening."

He turned away, rummaging through the fridge for something edible they could cook.  Discreetly, he tucked his empty chisp bag behind Papyrus’s spaghetti-filled tupperware.

“Oh, good.  I would not want to make a bad first impression.”

“Pfft. You’d have to try real hard to do that, Tori.  My bro sees the best in everyone.”  He smiled and pulled a “pupperoni” pizza out of the freezer.  It wasn’t anything fancy, but at least it would be edible.

He turned around, pizza in hand, and found Toriel staring at him oddly.

“What?”  His sockets widened.  “Uh, you’re not vegetarian, are you?”

She shook her head quickly, her gaze skimming off of his like oil from water.

“Pizza sounds lovely.  It has been quite some time since I had one.”

Sans didn’t pry, but he couldn’t help wondering what her expression had meant.  Had he said something weird?

...Oh.  He’d called her Tori, hadn’t he?  He should know better than to use nicknames without asking.  Papyrus hated them.

“Please, allow me.”  She held out her paws, so she couldn’t be too upset.

He handed over the pizza, and he jumped when fire flared to life in her palms.  For a moment he thought the fire would scorch the pizza beyond recognition, but the flames were just pleasantly warm.  He’d never known a monster other than Grillby to have such careful control of fire magic.

“Heh.  I didn’t know you were so hot, Toriel.”

As soon as he said it, he clamped his jaw shut.  Geez, how stupid could he be?  Making bad jokes was one thing, but flirting with bad jokes?

The fire went out.  She looked up abruptly—er, looked away from the pizza.  He was still a good two feet shorter than her.

“Tori was fine,” she said, her voice soft.

“Uh,” he replied intelligently. 

She suppressed a giggle, and he was pretty sure his face burned hotter than her fire had.  He could stand to take notes from Alphys and throw himself in the trash.

“Or not.  Whatever is comfortable for you,” she reassured him.  “Now, should we eat dinner before it gets cold?”

Eating was hardly something he could screw up at.

“Sure,” then after a pause, he tested, “Tori.”

Forget her fire magic.  Her smile could’ve heated the pizza all on its own.

XXX

For once in a hundred years, dinner was a warm and energetic affair.  In addition to the pizza, Papyrus had tossed together a salad from his fresh groceries, and Sans had briefly stepped out to grab a few orders of wings and fries.  In the end there was plenty of food for four hungry monsters.

Papyrus apologized for the lack of seating, but Toriel didn’t mind sitting on the couch squeezed between Sans and Undyne, eating off of paper plates.  She couldn’t imagine anywhere she would have felt more comfortable.

Before long, though, the day’s fatigue caught up with her.  She supposed it was to be expected—she wouldn’t regain her social stamina all at once.  

Sans caught her eye, and he nodded towards the stairs as Undyne and Papyrus “owned” each other in an MTT-Brand fighting game.

“Sorry.  I know they can be a bit much.” Sans rubbed the back of his skull.  

“They’re lovely.  I wish I had the energy to keep up with them.”  She smiled.

He leaned against the banister, smiling down at them.  Papyrus had gotten the upper hand this time, and was punching the air with joy.

“Me too,” Sans said, still looking away.  “I was thinking.  If you want a place to rest for the night, my bed’s open.”

She blinked.  Her face seemed to catch fire.  That was rather more… forward than she was expecting.  Sure, she had enjoyed his lighthearted flirting, and much as she tried to deny it, feelings had been growing in her for a long time.  But to have him return those feelings? And so boldly? It was as unfathomable as it was unlikely.

“I can get ya some fresh sheets, and I’ll crash in the shed.  My bro set up an, uh, guest room there when the human was in town.”

Oh.  She rubbed the heat from her face while he wasn’t looking.  How foolish could she be, to think he would be implying…? Well.

“I would not force you out of your room,” she said.  “If your brother prepared a guest room, I am sure that would be adequate.”

He let out a quick laugh.  “Uh, you’re not used to my brother’s… decorating.  Seriously, I don’t mind.”

She sighed.  If he insisted, she supposed it would be rude to deny his hospitality.

“Alright.  Thank you very much, Sans.”

“Great.”  He smiled back at her, then went into his brother’s room.  She waited patiently, and only jumped a little when he suddenly reappeared from the right hand door.  Perhaps the two rooms were connected in the back by a bathroom.

“Hotel Sans, one vacancy.”  He winked while holding the door open.

She chuckled behind her hand.  “You really did not have to resort to this.”

“Heh, I wouldn’t call it much of a resort.  The bed’s not even queen sized.”  He rubbed the back of his skull.

The bed was smaller than she was used to, but it did have fresh sheets.  That was the only fresh thing about the room.  Chisp crumbs had been brushed under the dresser, and… that was a tornado.  A self-sustaining trash tornado.  Though at least there was a pine-scented air freshener suspended in it.

“Sorry, it’s… really not much.  Uh.  Probably kinda insulting, expecting the Queen to sleep—”

“It’s perfect.”

He blinked.  “Huh?” 

“I am no stranger to a few crumbs, Sans.”

She remembered days that bled into weeks that bled into months.  Months where she couldn’t bring herself to clean, could hardly bring herself to care at all.  Months that had grown fewer and farther between since she’d met a friendly voice behind a door.

“I would’ve vacuumed,” he said sheepishly, “but I suck at it.”

More embarrassingly loud laughter burst from her.  In front of Sans, though, she didn’t feel the need to curtail her joy.

“Thank you.” She poured as much sincerity as she could into her voice.  

“‘S no problem, Tori.”  A light blue tinge warmed his cheekbones.  How could he possibly look so adorable? “Bathroom’s down the hall if you wanna wash up or anything.  And Undyne’ll be on the couch, so this is probably the safest place in the Underground right now.”

Her brow furrowed.  Sure enough, there was no bathroom door inside the room—he must have used one of his “shortcuts” to move from his brother’s room to here.

“So, uh.  I’ll be in the shed—uh, guest room if you need me.”  He flashed one more tense grin before turning to leave.

“Wait.” She stepped towards him without thinking.  

He looked up, one brow ridge raised.  She found herself biting her lip, wondering if she dared ask what her soul wanted.  It was silly, really.  She’d been on her own for years, decades.

Maybe that was why she was so hesitant to lose this one taste of companionship.

“I would feel… safer, if you would stay too.”  Her face burned beneath her fur, but she projected her usual composure.

“...Welp. Can’t say no to that, huh?”

She was about to reassure him that he could say no—that she was asking as his friend, not as his queen—but the soft smile on his face told her he already knew.  

He briefly left to grab a few things, then returned with a few pillows and, for some reason, a dog bed.

“You are not going to sleep on that,” she said in disbelief.

He flopped the dog bed in the middle of the floor and started fluffing it.  “Why not?  Gotta throw a dog bed a bone, right?”

“Sans.”  

The outdoor lights dimmed, as if at her command.  Only the colored Gyftmas lights outside and one dim indoor bulb lit the room.

Her confidence waned with the light.  What had she expected him to do?  She’d asked him to stay.  Unless she wanted to…

Oh, to hell with it.  She was too old to be so shy about these things.

“If you are not opposed,” she swallowed, “we could… share this mattress.”

When he looked up, she couldn’t make out his eyelights at all.  Their glow returned slowly, like the rising of the sun from her memories.

“Heh… you sure?  You don’t even know if I snore.”

She laughed and sat on the bed, patting the space beside her.  “You do not know if I snore, either.”

“Fair enough, Tori.”

They took turns cleaning up in the bathroom—she was imposing on Sans enough without adding the smell of dirty fur to his bed.  Then she did her best to ignore the flutterings in her soul as he slipped off his hoodie and climbed up onto the mattress.  She insisted he stay under the sheets; her fur would keep her warm enough with just the light blanket on top.  

The sheets were a barrier in name only.  There was only so much space on the mattress, so no matter how he adjusted and apologized, she could still feel the curve of his spine against hers.

It felt amazing.  It felt terrifying.  It felt like a mistake.  It felt like the only thing she’d ever done right.

The one saving grace of the whole situation was that it didn’t stir memories of Asgore.  Her royal beds had been triple the size of Sans’s lumpy mattress. She and her ex-husband had rarely slept back to back, and if they had, the feeling would have much different.

“...Tori?” Sans’s voice was just above a whisper.  “You, uh, still awake?”

As if she could sleep while enduring the wonderful agony of friendly touch for the first time in a century.

“Yes,” she replied softly.  “Am I taking up too much space?”

“No, ‘course not. I was just, uh… geez.” He sounded embarrassed.

Risking their precarious balance, she rolled over to face him.  Or to face the back of his skull, at least.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Doin’ sans-sational.” He chuckled to himself.  “Sorry.  Never got to use that one with you before.”

She would have laughed, had she not worried about shaking the whole mattress.

“It was sans-tastic,” she joked back, and he laughed again.

Then abruptly, his laughter cut off.

“Thanks, Tori,” he said in a quiet but firm voice.

“What for?” She wished she could take his hand, see his face, learn what thoughts were passing through his skull.  Instead she gave him as much space as physically possible… which still was not much.

A long, silent moment passed.  Had he fallen asleep?

“I know it’s not how you wanted,” he finally said, “but I’m glad I got to meet you.  So.  Thanks.”

Warmth spread outward from her soul to fill her whole body.  Sans could probably feel it radiating from her.

“Thank you, Sans.  If I had to return, knowing no one…”

He rolled to face her.  His eyelights were mere inches from her pupils.

“You would’ve been fine.  All you had to do was tell a few of your amazing jokes, and the whole Underground would’ve been linin’ up to be your pals.”

She suppressed a laugh.  “I hardly think that would be appropriate, under the circumstances.”

“Eh.”  He shrugged.  “Plenty of monsters in town cope with jokes.  You’d just be relating to the common folk.”

She stared into his sockets a little too intently.  At this distance, it easily made her dizzy.

“Would you be included in that demographic?” she couldn’t help asking.

“When I first met you?  For sure.” His gaze darted away.  “But it’s crazy.  Between you and the kid… I’m startin’ to think there’s more to life than good food and bad laughs.”

“Really?”  She and the child had made such an impact on him?

“I know.  Don’t tell Papyrus.  He wouldn’t believe you, anyway.” He winked.

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled.

Silence hung between them.  It should have felt awkward, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn away.  In the end it was Sans who yawned in her face and then hurriedly flipped back onto his other side.

She laughed, and clearly she was exhausted too, because she pressed a kiss to the back of his skull without thinking.

He froze.  She froze.  There was no way to play that off gracefully.  And there was no way she could fall asleep and pretend that it had not happened.

“Heh… those didn’t feel very sealed to me,” he finally rasped out.

It took her a moment to process what he meant.  Meanwhile her embarrassment only burned hotter.

“I am so sorry—”

“I’m not.” When he rolled back to face her, his face was bright blue.  “You’ll still be here when I wake up, right?”

His question was tinged with desperation.

“Of course,” she answered automatically, despite the many responsibilities that she would have to attend to in the morning.  She was the Queen once more.  If she had to, she could adjust the schedule of meetings and speeches to accommodate… this.

Whatever this was to be.

“Remind me in the morning,” he squeezed her hand, “that this is real.”

His hand quickly went limp.  She was worried for a moment, before she heard the faint snore escape his nasal cavity.

She gave him a fond smile, and allowed her own eyes to close.  She did not know if sleep would come or not.  She did not know what challenges the new day would bring, or what old challenges would continue to rear their heads.

But she did know that she was not alone.  For tonight, that was enough.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter thirteen rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

You woke up when bright lights began to penetrate your eyelids. You raised a hand to shield your eyes from the light and slowly opened them. You saw nothing but pure white walls that seemed to go on forever. You were slowly regaining feeling in your body as your eyes adjusted to the lights.

“My leg!” You gasped and looked down at your previously broken leg. It was fully healed, as were the rest of your injuries. You didn’t feel any pain anymore.

“Where are we?” You asked out loud. For the first time in a year, you got no response.

“Venom?” You asked again. She always answered. You were beginning to worry.

“Venom whats going on?” You asked. Still no answer. You tried to turn into Venom but nothing happened. You felt white hot fear shoot through your body.

“Oh my God. I died?” You whispered. “I died when I gave Venom to Peter.”

You suddenly felt yourself being pulled forward, as if attached to a string, before stopping abruptly. You found yourself in front of a door that was painted white. You pushed it open and walked into your old apartment, the one you shared with Andy. Speak of the devil…

“Hi babe.” Andy chirped. He kissed your lips as he passed you. You immediately touched your fingertips to your lips. You hadn’t kissed him like that in so long. He was once your boyfriend but now he felt more like a stranger.

“Hi.” You said wearily, coming out as more of a question.

“You ready?” He asked as he tossed you your shirt. You caught it clumsily and looked at it. It was a button down that you wore for important events.

“Ready for what?” You wondered as you rubbed your thumbs over the material.

“Don’t you have that interview with that guy today?” He tilted his head. “I thought you were gonna write a puff piece about his rocket.”

“My interview?” You were still very confused as you looked around your old apartment.

“Yep. So are you gonna do it?” Andy took a seat and looked at you expectantly.

“Do what?” You asked.

“Choose me.” He said simply.

“Choose you? Choose you for what? You know what, it doesn’t matter. I would never choose you.” You shook your head. “What’s going on?”

Andy’s face fell and a wall dropped down in front of you, between you and him. You slammed your hands on the wall in frustration and another door appeared. You opened the door and walked into your childhood home. You saw followed the sound of humming into your old bedroom, where you found your mother in a rocking chair.

“There you are.” She smiled sweetly as she rubbed her pregnant belly. “Could you hand me the lotion?”

You looked at her in bewilderment as you handed her a bottle of lotion. You were in a nursery, fit for a baby that hadn’t arrived yet.

“Thank you.” She accepted the bottle. “My little Y/n is almost here.”

“I’m here, mom.” You knelt down beside her with tears in your eyes. “I’m right here.”

“But are you staying?” She asked as she rubbed the lotion into her stomach.

“What?” You whispered in confusion. She finally looked at you. It was the first time you had ever looked in your mothers eyes.

“Are you choosing me, Y/n?” She asked, face void of emotion.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head. “I can’t.”

“Oh.” She said disappointedly. She stood up suddenly and walked out the bedroom door. You ran after her but when you went through the door, you found yourself in Peters bedroom. He came in and closed the door behind him.

“Hey beautiful.” He smiled. “Have you seen my-“

“Yes.” You blurted and Peter looked at you quizzically.

“Sorry what?” He asked.

“Wasn’t that your question? If I’m choosing you?”

“It was.” Peter nodded as he suddenly thought of something. “You gave Venom to me. Why?”

“Because you were dying.” You said as if it were obvious.

“So were you.” Peter bargained.

“Your life matters more.” You stated, surprising yourself on how quickly you answered.

“Avengers don’t trade lives.” Peter said firmly.

“I’m no Avenger. What good have I done in the world? I saved San Francisco from one guy with a rocket and I think of myself as some kind of hero? You said it yourself Peter.” You shrugged sadly. “I will never be the hero. I will always be the monster. And the monster always has to die at the end of the story.”

“Who’s writing this story?” Peter asked you.

“Me. I write the stories.” You were definitely annoyed now. “Why is everyone asking me these questions? Where am I?”

“So why did you give Venom to me? Why not write a happier ending?” Peter questioned.

“Because.” You said dumbly. You didn’t even know the answer.

“Because?” He repeated.

“Because! Because I was dying! Venom couldn’t heal me and we both knew it. She’d die if I died. So I gave her to you.” You yelled. “If you were her host then she could heal you and survive at the same time. I took myself out of the equation. I made the decision. That’s how I chose to end my story. Are you happy now?”

You never wanted to raise your voice at Peter but you didn’t like everyone poking around in your head. Something weird was going on and you weren’t even sure if he was real.

“So you chose to die?” Peter raised a judgmental eyebrow. All his questions came out in a way that sounded like he damn well knew the answer.

“I chose save you and Venom.” You answered for what felt like the millionth time.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” You grumbled.

“Yes you do. Why?” He said again.

“I said I don’t know.” You yelled.

“Bullshit!” He yelled. Peter never raised his voice at you either. This definitely wasn’t your Peter.

“Because I’d rather die than lose you! Either of you.” You shouted before lowering your voice. “You and Venom mean more to me than anything else ever has. Nothing compares to you. So I gave myself up so in order for you two to live. That’s why.”

He looked satisfied with your answer, finally.

“I know.” Peter nodded simply.

“You know? Then why did you ask?” You were beyond frustrated at that point.

“Because you didn’t know. You think you chose me.” Peter laughed.

“I did chose you.” You argued.

“No. You didn’t.” Peter stated.

“Then who did I chose?” You said angrily. You knew you chose Peter. You just wanted this trip to be over. Your head was splitting.

“Us.” Venoms voice came into your head. You turned to the mirror and saw Venom looking back at you. The background melted away to a black room with just a mirror.

“You chose us. You sacrificed yourself to save someone else. Do you know what that makes you?” Venom asked you.

“Stupid?” You said sarcastically.

“A hero.” Venom replied. You rolled your eyes.

“I will never be the hero.” You hissed.” Peter nearly died because of me. And he would’ve died if it weren’t for you. I’m the one who put him in danger. Me. I’m a monster.”

“Just because you’re a monster doesn’t mean you have to do monstrous things.” Venom reminded you.

“How am I seeing all of this?” You wondered. “How are you here? Aren’t I dead?”

“No. You’re just in such bad pain that you’re hallucinating. None of this actually happened.”

“What?” You gasped. How could it all be fake? It felt so real.

“I’m kidding.” Venom chuckled. “You’re just unconscious. It’s time to wake up.”

“Wake up?” Your vision began to blur again and the room faded back to black.

“I’ll be watching over you.” Your mother’s voice said was the last thing you heard before you fell back to sleep.

You woke up with a jolt. You were still on the pavement outside of the Oscorp building. You heard the faint sounds of a commotion on the roof. Lots a roars. A few cackles here and there. You let out a huff of breath.

“I’m not gonna die.” You grunted. “Not like this.”

With great agony, you picked yourself up. Your hand was still broken but Venom had healed your leg. You doubled tapped your chest and your suit formed around your body once again. You shot a web at the building and swung on it until you reached the front. The doors were locked being as it was nighttime and no one was around. You looked at your reflection in the window and sighed.

“No fear.” You shouted as you head butted the window. It didn’t break but it did give you a throbbing headache. You groaned and shot a web at a dumpster and threw it through the window. The glass shattered all around you.

“That’ll work too.” You shrugged before climbing through the broken glass and limping over to the elevator. Every step you took brought on more pain but you were high on adrenaline. You got in the elevator and pressed the button for the roof. Cheesy elevator music filled your ears as you rode.

Meanwhile on the roof, Peter was putting up a second fight with Carnage. Venoms powers mixed with his Spider-Man powers gave him an advantage. He was stronger, bigger, and faster than ever before. Carnage was beginning to weaken.

“Y/n has been down there an awfully long time. I wonder what’s become of her.” Carnage tried to distract Peter. Peter panicked instantly. He didn’t know how he bonded with Venom. All he knew is he was barely conscious on the sidewalk one minute and climbing the building as Venom the next. In the heat of the moment, he’d forgotten all about you.

“Where is she?” Peter demanded.

“I threw her off a while ago. Haven’t seen her since. Didn’t you tell me she and Venom would die if they were separated? I don’t know though. Venom seems fine to me.” Carnage taunted the boy.

“Venom, what happened? Where’s Y/n?” Peter asked the Symbiote desperately.

“You can’t stop fighting now. I’ll tell you about to later.” Venom answered, knowing Peter would drop everything and rush to your side if he knew the truth.

“I thought you only said “we”.” Peter wondered out loud.

“”We” is for me and Y/n only.” Venom said firmly. She missed you dearly. All she could do was hope you were still alive.

“Fair enough.” Peter answered.

He had been so caught up in his conversation with Venom that he didn’t notice Carnage charging at him. Carnage pulled at Venoms skin and successfully yanked her off of Peter. He threw Venom off into the distance and grabbed Peter by the neck.

“Don’t waste your time with the bitch. Who cares about Y/n? Girls are nothing but trouble. You’re better off if she’s dead. Women are good for absolutely nothing. All they do is bite your head off.” Carnage growled at Peter. Peter was wining and he was getting desperate.

Peter was about to jump to your defense and annihilate Carnage with an essays worth of reasons why women were amazing when he heard someone behind him clear their throat.

“He’s right, Peter. Absolutely right.” You said suavely. You strutted over to Carnage and Peter, checking your nails as you walked. Peter looked at you with pride and then at Carnage with a look that said “you’re finished.”

“And well,” you shrugged with open arms, “Ain’t I a woman?”

Before Carnge could speak, Peter kicked him in the groin for the second time that evening. You took no time in grabbing Carnage and pulling him off Cletus. You shoved Cletus towards Peter and held Carnage up. He was defenseless in his goo state. You smiled wickedly as you transformed back into Venom. Then, you did just as you promised.

You bit his head off.

You chewed Carnage and swallowed him before tossing the rest of him in the fire. He burned up and dissolved into the fire with a shrill hiss. You smiled proudly at your work but your smile quickly fell when you looked up and saw Cletus with a knife to Peters throat.

“Wait! Kill me too or I’ll slice his throat. Please! I can’t go back to prison.” Cletus begged.

“No, Cletus. I’m not going to kill you. I would never hurt you.” You said cautiously as you slowly approached Cletus.

“We’re saving your life, idiot.” Peter sassed. Cletus tightened his grip and Peter yelped.

“Don’t! Life in prison isn’t living.” Cletus cried.

“Killing people isn’t living either. You have to stop this Cletus. We want to help you.” Peter interjected.

“Why? I don’t deserve your help. Did you ever see what Shelly looked like? If you weren’t my friend, you would’ve been my target.” Cletus shouted at you.

“You would never hurt me. I believe that. But you can’t hurt Peter either. Peter didn’t do anything to you. He didn’t laugh at you or reject you, right?” You tried to reason with Cletus and talk him down.

“You think you would’ve been spared? You wouldn’t. I’m a cold blooded killer baby. I’ll kill your boyfriend right now to prove it. You’d kill me if I did that, wouldn’t you?” His crazy eyes were wide with excitement. “You’d eat me on the spot. I know you, Y/n. I know how you work. Carnage told me that Symbiotes mate for life. Well how about I kill your mate as you watch? Would you still try to save me? Huh, girl? Would you?”

“I couldn’t have pulled Carnage off of you as easily as I did if you didn’t try to let him go.” You pointed out. “You wanted to be free from him. It’s okay, Cletus. You’re free now. Peter and I freed you. So don’t do anything stupid okay? Put the knife down. The police are on their way.”

“They are? Why?” Peter asked. Of course he was opening dialogue while being threatened with a knife.

“Someone threw a dumpster through the window.” You answered him.

“Oh my God really? Who would do that?” Peter wondered.

“I have no idea.” You deadpanned.

“Please just kill me. I deserve it.” Cletus brought the attention back to himself.

“No one deserves it.” You shouted. Before Cletus could protest, something red and crispy jumped of the fire and latched onto Peters leg. You knew you hadn’t succeeded in killing Carnage, but it was too late. Peter was yanked towards the roaring fire and you weren’t fast enough to get to him. Everything began to move in slow motion. Peters body flew through the air like a rag doll. You began to run to him but you knew you’d never make it it time. Then, out of nowhere, Cletus jumped towards Peter and grabbed Carnage. They both tumbled into the fire. You heard the screams from Cletus and Carnage as they burned to ashes together. You ran to Peter and helped him up, both of your eyes trained on the fire.

“Is he-“ you began.

“He saved me.” Peter gasped.

“Are they dead?” You wondered out loud.

“Karen, extinguisher.” Peter called.

The spider on Peters chest came off and hovered over the fire. A white substance shot out of it and put out the fire. There was nothing but a burnt mark on the ground when it was done. Both Cletus and Carnage were gone.

“Did-did we just win?” You asked.

“I think we did.” Peter said in disbelief.

You ran towards each other and embraced. He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his torso. He held you tightly as you heard police sirens approaching the building.

“I thought I was gonna lose you.” You mumbled in his ear.

“I thought I already lost you. How did you find Venom?” Peter asked as he scanned your body for injuries.

“Right as I walked off the elevator, something hit me in the face that felt like a wet cat. Sure enough, it was Venom.” You laughed. Peter sighed in relief.

“That was lucky.” Peter commented.

“Not really. We always find each other.” You smiled fondly at Venom and she smiled back at you.

“How did I get Venom?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” You lied.

”You’re lying. Your heart rate went up. How did I get Venom?” Peter asked again, with more force this time.

“I…transferred her to you.” You admitted.

“What?” His eyes widened. “Why? I didn’t even know you could do that.”

“We can when we have to. I felt we had to.” You told him.

“Why?”

“You were hurt.” You said simply.

“What about you?” Peter asked, always concerned for your safety.

“What about me?” You laughed. “You and I were both hurt and Venom could only heal one of us. She would’ve died if she stayed with me.”

“Why wouldn’t you let her heal me and then take her back?” Peter asked.

“Because I just wanted to keep you safe.” You yelled from an anger you didn’t know was building. Peter’s eyes softened and he no longer looked confused. “All I was thinking in that moment is that you were hurt and I could help you. I wasn’t thinking about me or Carnage or anything else. Just you and your safety.”

“Woah.” Peter stumbled back. “I think I just realized why Mr. Stark treats me like a kid.”

“Love makes you do crazy things.” You shrugged. “He’s strict with you because he wants to protect you, not because he doesn’t believe in you.”

“I shouldn’t listened the first 15 times he told me that.” Peter laughed but his face suddenly fell flat. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” You put a hand on his cheek.

“Almost dying made me realize that I want to be with someone else.” Peter said apologetically.

“What? Who?” You were crushed, withdrawing your hand immediately. Peter smiled proudly at himself when he saw your reaction.

“Your mom.” He delivered in true Gen Z fashion.

“My mom is dead, dickhead.” You said bluntly.

“Oh my God.” Peter stuttered. “I totally forgot I am so sorry please-“

You cut him off by rushing into his arms and pressing your lips to his.

“I’m only teasing. I always appreciate a good “your mom” joke.” You assured him. “Plus, I saw her like five minutes ago.”

“Wait, what?” Peter jutted his head back in surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” You waved your hand in dismissal. “I think we’ve had enough crazy for one night. Can we just go inside and-“

“Watch The Princess Bride and cuddle?” Peter asked hopefully.

“I was gonna say have sex and make brownies, but your thing works too.” You smiled innocently as you pulled him towards the stairs to get off the roof.

“Yeah.” Peter gulped, realizing he jumped the gun. “Or your thing.”

“Nah.” You teased him. “I haven’t seen The Princess Bride in forever.”

“Me either.” He nodded. “Or we could do your thing.”

“Do you want to go to my place or yours?” You still ignored his pleas.

“Doesn’t matter to me.” He shrugged. “You should pick since you make such good suggestions. Speaking of suggestions, we should do your thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you left the building, carefully stepping over the glass from the window you smashed.

“You know what, Peter?” You said as you looked at him with a smile. “If I have to be people eating alien, I’m glad I can do it with you by my side.”

“Thanks, Y/n.” He laughed a little. “That means a lot.”

You stopped him and put your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you.

“I mean it.” You said softly. “I’m glad to have you as my partner in crime.”

“I’m glad I have you too.” He smiled shyly before leaning in to kiss you.

“Come on.” You took his hand and pulled him in the direction of your apartment. “Let’s go do my thing.”

[thehomothings]

Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.

[kaijurakunsobs]

If requests are open could you do a Heisenberg fic with a teen or young adult reader(no older than 20 please) who stumbles into the village trying to get away from their parents and after they get attacked by Lycans Heisenberg patches them up and takes them in trying to hide them from his sister and mother miranda. Could you please do it with an AFAB reader who doesn’t identify as female? I am currently dealing with borderline verbal abuse from my conservative father who doesnt like that though I am AFAB I don’t identify as female.

first, baby, I'm so sorry that this is happening to you. I know how bad and mentally taxing that kind of living situation can get, I was in a similar situation and somehow managed to pull through.

you are not alone, you are loved and I hope everything gets better, never forget that it's you who defines yourself, your self worth should NEVER be defined by others

All you can think is...how cold everything is around you, how the freezing air burns your skin and lungs, but, you have endured something worst, physical pain can be healed with time, emotional and psychological pain is what hurts the most, what feels eternal and haunting, it coils around you, it grows and never let's go, like being branded, it leaves marks that never go away.

Running aimlessly through the snow feels like nothing.

What made you get out of the car?

Was it anger?

Desperation?

Does that even matter anymore?

You can't hear their voices anymore, so that's a win.

Farther away you see smoke and fain lights, distant sounds beckoning you closer to that place, and you let yourself smile widely when the silhouette of someone standing so close to you, you could get help, start somewhere new, be happy!

But it's so short-lived, that you question if there's divine retribution, karma, or just the universe laughing in your face.

Your "savior" is covered in blood, a man with a perpetual expression of agony lays in the snow, dead. The monster turns to you and finally the cold freezes you where you stand, it's not alone, and all the other creatures are looking at you, dark soulless eyes fixated on their new prey.

You have felt like that before under his gaze like if you were vermin, it made you furious how you were treated and consider as something lesser than a person. These things look at you the same like you are just a speck of dust in their path, and maybe you are, if the mangled body is any indication that taking a life will be nothing for them.

You see it from the corner of your eye, one of them lunges for you, and then? everything is a blur.

You remember kicking and punching wildly, adrenaline making you forget about the pain of the bites and scratches, there are memories of you running and using something to smash the head of one of the monsters, a rock, perhaps? But in the end, cold, blood loss, and exhaustion are enough to bring you to your knees. One of them grabs a fistful of hair and roars in your face and you know, that, this is it, you fought and did your best, but this is the end of your travesty...so much for your new life of freedom.

"Get the fuck away...I SAID FUCK OFF!" his voice is so loud that it makes you whimper and recoil "LET GO, CAN'T YOU HEAR ME? LET GO, DAMN IT!" the smell of blood and a warm liquid hits you hard, but at least you are free, letting your body hit the snow

"What do we have here?...this one is alive, but ya ain't from around here, do you?" he's smoking and something small and silly wants you to tell him that smoking is bad, which makes you smile so softly "...Interesting"

Heisenberg rarely gets intrigued by anything, he hasn't found anything to spark his curiosity in so long, so of course, he had to come and see what was causing such a commotion. What he thought to be a villager, fist fighting the lycans so valiantly, turned out to be a teenager, he saw you from afar,  furiously kicking lycan after lycan, you didn't even notice the growing red spots in your clothes and the black eye, it was survival and feral like behavior. Truly interesting.

Now, what made him pick you up with care? years from today he will say it was just "Scientific interest kiddo! nothing more", but, it's the pain in your face that makes him act so soft, it's not the agony brought by your wounds, this goes deeper, it's different and he knows it very well.

Under normal circumstances, he would have taken you to Moreau, but he knows the loud mouth will give you to that bitch Miranda and that will be it for you. Dimitrescu is OUT of the equation, so does Beneviento, hell knows what her psychotic ass would do to you. So he brings you back to his home and takes time to clean your wounds, true, his stitching abilities are amazing...on corpses, and a lack of anesthesia and your occasional movements makes it hard for him to stitch you properly, but by the end of everything, you are bandaged and clean, isn't that the important part?

He’s done his part, the rest is on you. If you had the strength to fight and even kill a lycan, you might live to see another day

How long were you out?

You are warm and so fucking sore, cracking your eyes open is a big task and even harder to sit up in the bed you are laying on. The room is black and smells like tobacco, oil, and something you can’t place but it’s nice.

Barefoot and curious you start to get up, wincing deep and loud when pain floods your body, but you get up non-less, you feel the cold air hit your legs, and immediately pull down the shirt to cover yourself. Then it fully clicks, the jagged memories of what happened slaps you in the face and make you lose your footing, falling back on the bed you pry the shirt off from your body, you see bandages and patches placed on smaller wounds, your head is killing you and your right eye hurts like crazy.

With small breathes you pull the shirt back on and force your body to get up and investigate the room. There are piles of clothes and pieces of paper everywhere, picking one of the pants you sigh, these are yours, but they have been destroyed either by the beasts or by however brought you here. Looking around there’s nothing more, time to go out.

The only door leads you to an open room, the kitchen and living room placed together, in one of the sofas you can see someone laying down, their chest rising and falling softly, their face obscured by an old hat.

You try to be as quiet and sneaky as possible when getting back into the room “Where do you think you are going, kid?” his voice is thick with sleep but the sound is enough to make you yelp, slamming your shoulder against the door frame, the man jumps up and in a couple of strides he’s beside you “Can you more fucking careful? the stitches gonna get open and if you get an infection I ain’t risking my neck to get you meds”

He’s a bit taller than you with squared and wide shoulders, his face is stern and it seems like he’s annoyed about something, is it you? Did you anger him? You try to remember what could you have done to make him so mad but nothing comes to you, is not like you remember much, and what you do, is better to be left forgotten.

Heisenberg has seen many people look at him with fear, reverence even, but he has never been in the receiving end of a look like yours, he has to close his eyes for a second, carefully grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the kitchen, almost forcing you to take a seat in on of the wobbly chairs he owns.

“Well now that you are back with us, I can finally cook something to eat. You must be starving! I would too after the way you fought back there” he lets out a howl while he busies himself with pulling ingredients for whatever he’s cooking “I saw ya, you know? That was one hell of a show and I know about putting up good entertainment, you gave those lycans a good beating”

Lycans? So those things have names...uuuh, who would have thought.

"What's your name kid?" you get pulled out of your mind by his voice and the smell of cooking eggs, for a moment you wonder and think, that this is the time to be addressed by YOUR name "...I'm Y/N, sir"

"Cut the sir bullshit, you ain't trying to impress nobody here, you can call me Heisenberg, Karl if you wanna get my attention quickly, got it?"

"Yes...Heisenberg?"

He's rather harsh from what little you have seen of him, but he's careful when serving you breakfast, a steady hand serves you tea and makes quick work of a loaf of bread, whit that you two eat in relative silence, he eats like a wolf and that's enough to make you hide a smile.

"Once you are...better..." he's speaking between bites, eew "I'm taking you to get some new clothes, staying here ain't gonna be free, ok?" with his fork pointing at you he waits and continues without you answering "I'll have to teach you...that's gonna take time..."

"I'm a faster learner!"

Heisenberg laughs at the offended tone in your voice, taking a big gulp from his mug once he stops "I like ya kid, there's a fire in you and I respect that, we gonna get along"

It takes you almost 2 weeks to fully recover and be able to move without crying out in pain. On the day he announces that he must take off your stitches, he's kind when pulling on the thread, talking about how that same day he's taking you to the seamstress cuz he's "done" having you wear his stuff.

The seamstress in the Village seems flabbergasted when "Lord Heisenberg" comes into her house, demanding she makes you good sturdy pants and easy to move in shirts. From that sole visit is enough for people to call you "Heisenberg's assistant" whenever you are sent to the village or just went spotted by anyone. The Duke, the merchant that sometimes you have found yourself talking to, does nothing but fuel the rumor, people already fear Heisenberg on a god day, now they fear you might be spying for him.

You would be lying by saying that, Heisenberg is a normal man, he's flamboyant and loud, filled with pride, and what you can describe as...showmanship, he speaks with passion when explaining to you the ins and outs of the factory. He's always close, never breathing down your neck, just close enough to hear if you need help.

The first time you see him use his gift is the most embarrassing and awkward moment of your life.

You are working on some molds for pieces he needs to make from scratch, he taught you where you should work on that, away from whatever lurks in the lower areas of the factory. You were so engrossed in getting the mold out perfectly, tongue sticking out and heavy gloves helping you to pry open the damn thing open, you don't even jump when a hand lands on your shoulder, but you do when the ghoulish face of a corpse appears beside you.

He's running the second he hears you, a high pitched sound tearing through the noise of the machinery, he sees you bolting it towards him and a Zwei Soldat quickly catching up with you, the drill in its arm too close to your back, the moment you are close enough he pulls you towards and behind him, a metal sheet flying to the thing and beheading it in an instant.

"Kid...Kid, look at me, hey, eyes on me" you are not crying, there's no blood anywhere and nothing seems to be missing, you seem more startled than anything else, but you listen to him, concentrated on him and his voice "Y/N, it's ok kid, I'm here"

Then it happens, you let it slip. "Thanks...thanks dad"

You feel him go tense, the hands-on your shoulders shake for a second and embarrassment comes crashing down on you, you are ready for him to yell or push you away and order you to see if the mold is still useful, but he pulls you close, patting your back like you never said anything.

There are days when you can hear him talking on the phone, his voice growing irritated, and his explosive temper getting worst.

You are curled up in the crawlspace that he turned into your room, listening to him talking with someone, he sounds exasperated and nervous. This time he takes longer to come out from his room, a new cigar in his mouth and hammer over his shoulder, usually, he would tell you that he's leaving for a couple of hours, this time he's just there, tapping his foot and sparing quick glances at you.

"Get your coat, we need to leave"

That's new...he never takes you with him to wherever he goes, but you don't feel like arguing and do as he says, slipping your boots on and grabbing your coat.

Heisenberg is unusually quiet this time, only the snow crunching under your feet make enough sound to fill in the void, he takes you farther from the village and into a rundown church, you can hear new voices and the unforgettable sounds of the lycans snarling.

Inside the candlelight is soft and cast strange shadows of the people already waiting inside. There's a woman in a white dress that probably towers over you, another lady dressed in black and her covered, she sits in a corner with a creepy doll on her lap, and finally, a shy man who battles to cover himself with the torn cloth of his jacket.

"Is this why mother Miranda called us? Did you brought a new toy and never informed her? what a bad dog you are Heisenberg"

"Non of your business, Dimitrescu" Karl does everything to keep you behind him, away from the doll or the twisted man, but especially from the woman, Dimitrescu as he called her.

From where you stood, you could see how beautiful and regal she is, sitting with grace and a sarcastic smile plastered on her face. Noticing you, she moved slightly to get a better look, narrowing her eyes, making you feel small and like food. Before she can't even speak the sound of feathers caught your attention, giving Karl enough time to guide you to one of the pews, making you take a seat beside him.

The four adults greeted the new woman, the infamous mother Miranda, you have heard about her in the village and through small stories shared by the Duke, but mostly, you have heard Heisenberg curse the woman and call her every single name under the sun.

"Usually I wouldn't care for what my children do in their dominions, but, Karl, I must say I'm disappointed in you...to hide this child and avoid telling us?"

"I apologize, Miranda, the right opportunity never came" ooooh he's pissed

"I say you take his toy, Mother Miranda, and if possible, give me that lovely lady to me?" at that your gut twist uncomfortably, it's been some time since you were...addressed like that

"Excuse me?" Heisenberg cocks his head to the side, looking at Dimitrescu over his shades "Are you talking about my SON?"

"YOUR SON?! Don't make laugh, child, I can smell the sweet maiden blood running through her veins, that's a lady not one of your dirty lycans"

"And you are bitch no matter how well you dress!"

"ENOUGH!" Miranda's voice breaks them apart, everyone looking at her "Care to elaborate, Heisenberg?"

Karl takes a second to take a drag from his cigar and blow a cloud of some into the air "I found Y/N here, they fought hard to survive and I took them in, just like Alcina, and her lovely daughters...I decided it was my time to have a child of my own"

"That doesn't change the fact that you brought an outsider and didn't inform mother, and now you are trying to do what exactly? have...them...play house with you?"

"Lady Dimitrescu, that's enough" she's looking at you, mother Miranda in staring, and Heisenberg as a hand on your back, suddenly you are hyper-aware of everything, the sounds and smells, the movements each person in the room does, the way the candles flicker "I allow it, may this never happen again, Heisenberg. Next time there will be consequences"

You feel like passing out after that, the screams of Dimitrescu and the doll get drown by the ringing in your ears, everything keeping you together is Heisenberg's hand on yours cursing up a storm as he pulls you along with him.

The cold air feeling nice against your burning skin.

"Kid? I think you are ready" you are halfway through the trek back to the factory when he speaks again

"Ready for what?"

"To be introduced to the Heisenberg family true work, of course! What kind of father I would be if I don't involve you in our family's business"

You trip with your feet hearing him say that, so...he meant it? what he said in the church...that you are his son?

"Come on Y/N, I won't go easy on you because you are my kid now, quick quick"

Catching up to him is easy and you feel at peace when one of his arms wraps around you, he begins to talk about how many things he's gonna teach you and how exciting is to have a young mind to shape.

For the first time, you are eager to get back home.

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

[idmakeitbehave]

fluff #66 pls. i love your writing so much!!!

Exchanging Secrets

66. “I'm pretty sure your mom hates me.”

Word count: 1113 (whoops) // gn!reader

A/N: thank you love, this one was so fun to write!!! We love Diana (also I’m in love with ur url)

“Where are we going?”

Spencer drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, letting out a quiet hum in lieu of a response.

“Spence?” you asked, noticing the nervous way he fidgeted. Despite the case being over and you all having a free day and a half in Vegas, he hadn’t seemed to relax and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

After a few more seconds of silence, Spencer finally spoke. “I thought that maybe we… we could go visit my mom.” You didn’t respond, and he glanced over to see you staring at him with wide eyes. “Or not. We don’t—we don’t have to. It was a stupid idea, sorry.”

“No, no,” you said in a rush. “I would love to! I’m just surprised is all.”

Spencer shot you an almost shy smile. “I figured it was about time.”

That quiet admittance was almost too much to bear. He had told you about his mother, of course he had, but you honestly hadn’t known how much she even knew about you. You had wanted to meet her for so long, but that self-doubt still tugged at you. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

He let out a scoff, raising an eyebrow at you. “She’s going to love you.”

*

Diana sat quietly in the corner of the recreation room, swaying in the rocking chair, her gaze directed out the window. She smiled slightly to herself as a dove flew by and landed on a nearby tree branch.

Spencer stood across the room watching for a moment, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He stopped when he felt your hand on his. “Spence, it’s okay.” You arched an eyebrow. “I thought I was supposed to be the nervous one.”

He let out a shaky laugh and nodded. You squeezed his hand again as you made your way towards Diana.

“Mom?” he called out softly.

She turned around immediately, the confusion on her face melting into recognition. “Oh, Spencer,” she said. “My Spencer.”

“Hi, Mom.”

You watched the exchange wordlessly, the pure joy in Spencer’s eyes pulling at your heartstrings. It was simple to see the love they had for one another just from their brilliant smiles.

“Spencer, what are you doing here?”

Spencer squatted down next to her. “I wanted to see you.”

“I saw a dove today—that means luck. I didn’t know that that luck would be you.” She leaned forward, studying his face. “You look happy.”

“Mom.” He glanced at you. “There’s someone I want you to meet. This is Y/N.”

Diana looked up at you for the first time, her grin only growing wider. “Hello, Y/N.”

You gave a little wave, almost instantly chastising yourself for your awkwardness. “Hello, Mrs. Reid. It’s so great to meet you.”

“Please, call me Diana.”

*

“I'm pretty sure your mom hates me.”

“What?” Spencer squeaked out. “No, she doesn’t.”

You leveled your gaze at him. “I spilled the tea all over and I dropped the cookies and—and I’m an entire disaster.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh, yeah?” It came out as almost a hiss under your breath. “Then why am I getting the third degree? I can’t go back in there.”

Spencer laughed quietly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “You’re reading far too much into things. She just wants to get to know you, she likes asking questions.”

You let out a huff of air, sinking into his embrace. After another moment, you nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”

“You sure?”

You nodded again. “But you hold the tea this time.”

Spencer pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, dear.”

*

Spencer was right—it was all in your head. It shouldn’t have surprised you, he always seemed to be right.

Once you had finally relaxed, the conversation flowed easily. The three of you spent hours sitting in the recreation room, Diana telling you stories about Spencer’s childhood.

“Spencer, do you remember when I told you the story of Andromeda and Perseus?” Diana turned towards you. “I finished the story and he said, ‘Mom, that doesn’t make any sense. There’s no such thing as sea monsters.’ And I told him, ‘Spencer, it’s just a myth. It’s a story about love.’ And you know what he said to me?”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“He said to me, ‘Myths are supposed to explain natural events or justify religious beliefs. What does some guy rescuing a girl from a sea monster have to do with any of that?’ Can you believe that? He was ten.” Diana chuckled, her smile beaming.

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle as a flush creeped up Spencer’s face. “Mom,” he said with an almost whine. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Oh shush, Spence.” You shook your head, taking his hand in yours. “I could listen to this all day.”

“Spencer was such a special kid,” Diana continued. “Still is. If it was up to his father he would have had a house full of brothers and sisters. But I always said why mess with perfection?”

Spencer choked back a mortified snort, dropping his head back against his chair.

You turned towards him with wide, amused eyes. “Spencer, you didn’t tell me your mother was a genius too.”

*

Spencer left the room with promises of returning soon with a stack of books from the car. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Diana turned to you and leaned in close. “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered, a gleam in her eyes.

You were startled by her question, but you nodded. The nerves from before rose back to the surface along with the sinking feeling that she was going to tell you something that you didn’t want to hear. “Of course.”

“You’re good for Spencer. I can tell these kinds of things. A mother knows.” She tapped her temple with her index finger, a wise smile flashing on her face. “I’ve never seen him this happy.”

It felt like your heart might explode out of your chest at her words. You couldn’t control the grin that tugged at your lips as you leaned in towards Diana in return. You whispered, “Can I tell you a secret, too?”

She nodded eagerly. “Of course.”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life with your son.”

*

“Not as bad as you thought, right?” Spencer asked, his eyes searching yours as though he was looking for approval.

You shook your head vehemently, grinning so widely that your cheeks ached. “Spence, I love your mother. Love, love, love.”

He tugged you into a hug, pulling you nearly out of your seat and into his. “Good,” he said, laughing softly and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Because I love, love, love you.”

+++

Tags: @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @myglitteringstardust @sapphic-prentiss @fandom-monium @julialuv1d @howdycharlie @fantastic-fans @saspencereid @whxt-to-write @90spumkin @idocarealot @moonstarrnghtsky @thelovelyrose @closetedreidstan @averyhotchner @tripleyeeet @rainsong01 @multifandomegan @no-honey-no @bauhousewife @shadybagelsludgecolor @idiotinnit @elldell1204 @gublersbooblers @calm-and-doctor @shadyladyperfection @homoose @wheelsup @dorotheuh @reidingmelodies

[harveywritings92]

BNHA vampire soulmate scenario: When you first saw them.

 The first time you saw him, he was feeding off someone.

TWs: Blood, death stalking and attempted assault.

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

Mr. Compress: {Your Quirk: Card capture: it's similar to Mr. Compress's quirk but you can entrap people and objects in cards by manifesting these clear glass like cards that slip out from your wrist, you can use them as throwing weapons too as they're very sharp, the only drawback is that you can get severely dehydrated if you overuse it.]

You were walking home late from work just hungry and physically done! today was crap show! first you missed the train then half way to work you forgot you realized you forgot your lunch!, Your boss (who's usually pretty chill) for whatever reason decided he hated your guts today and yelled at you in front of everyone! and to rub salt on the wound you spilt hot coffee all over yourself! so now you arms and chest have burns on them that were itchy as hell! you just wanted to crawl into bed, and forget about this day. 

You decided to cut through the park when you saw a odd pair, a man in a yellow trench coat and top-hat and mask which was pushed to the side kissing a woman in sundress under a streetlight. "huh, how sweet." you sighed exasperated before continuing on you way, when you noticed foot steps coming out behind you, you cautiously reached into your coat for one of your cards... you knew it wasn't the man in the top hat as you did a quick glance over your shoulder he was still  'occupied' you could smell stale alcohol in the air remembering the beware of mugger sign at the park entrance and figured out what was going on when the person was in grabbing range.

You whirled around grabbing your would be assailants arm forcing it up and pulling him towards you, you hissed  felt a sting on your cheek as your free hand slammed your card into his chest "release!" you barked as a powerful cyclone burst from the card sending the man flying off his feet *Thank-you Anko-san* you mentally cheer happy that your friend had a wind-quirk and let you capture it's effects in a card; said card then shattered as it was a one-shot use like all your offense cards. 

The man wheezed as he was thrown to ground next to the "couple". while you took off running! not seeing Top-hat pull away from his lady friend and sniff the air. 

Atsuhiro dropped the woman he was feeding on she slid limply to the ground as he readjusted his mask and followed that delicious scent and found a bloody knife on the ground *Could it be?!* his heart was beating abnormally faster as picked it up and sniffed it he lifted his mask up and licked the blood off the knife, Atsunhiro almost felt alive again as the sweet taste of his mate's blood touch his tongue... 

He was so elated his mask was blushing! (cos anime logic!) "My Darling❣~" he purred in pure ecstasy, but soon his euphoria was cut short when he heard the man who attempted to rob you on the ground cough, the vampiric ex-magician turned in his direction, he could smell this uncultured brutes scent all over the knife mixing his mates. 

Atsuhiro's primal urges were screaming at him to kill the man for harming his mate, however the ex-showman had something else in mind... The next morning you were watching the news on your laptop seeing the mugger at the park last night had been caught, and was being charged with murder for another woman. You felt your stomach churn as the photo of the woman who you saw making out with the top-hat man flashed on screen. 

Than you felt a a chill go down your back!

You nervously looked away from your screen and scanned around the nearly empty café, there's was only you, an elderly couple wearing matching tracksuits enjoying some tea and having a conversation, a tired and obviously hungover mother and her two rowdy kids having breakfast, and lastly a man with black hair and copper eyes wearing a yellow casual suit and gray news boy cap reading a book.

You squint at the title....The magicians nephew, you frowned letting out a small hum; swearing you felt someone's eyes on you, thinking you were just paranoid from last night... you unconsciously traced the healing cut on your cheek and went back to you doing your work, not seeing the copper eyes of Atsuhiro watching you from behind his book with a knowing smirk.

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

Dabi: You were walking home drunk to hell as your friends kept you out at the bars until 3am, you decided to take a detour home to get a late night snack/early breakfast at the 7/11 a few blocks from your place, as you were walking to the store you spied what looked a couple making out against the dumpster a few feet a ways, even in your drunken state you couldn't help but scrunched up your nose the sight. "at least take her to cheap motel buddy, jeez..." you muttered the man in the black hood growled back in retort as you entered the store.

While in the shop you frowned seeing you favorite snack was out of stock. "D-dammit." you huffed and looked around before spotting the clerk who was unpacking some packs of ramen. "Hey d'ya got any f/snack left?" you asked trying to keep from slurring your words. "Yeah there should be some packs over by the-" the clerk went to point but forgot they were holding a box cutter and accidentally jabbed you in the leg just under your knee. "Oh my gosh I'm so sorry!" the clerk gasped while you tried waving them off, it was just an accident, but if it made them feel better you bought some band-aids and disinfectant along with your food the clerk felt soo bad they gave you discount and with that you walked out in to the night....

When you got out your leg was still bleeding it didn't really bother you as you too tipsy to care, besides it's just a tiny cut, as you were leaving you noticed the "couple" still going at it, however now it felt kind of off... and that's when you noticed the man in the black hood stiffen... you stomach felt like it was full of rocks as you watched him slowly turn to face you.

Dabi was busy draining this dumb bimbo who followed him out of the bar after he told her to piss off, but seeing as he hadn't fed on fresh human blood in months, (he was drinking blood-packs of pig's blood.) he decided screw it, she'll know the consequences her actions that is if he doesn't suck her dry.. "at least take her to cheap motel buddy, jeez..." a drunk woman muttered as she passed them Dabi let out a frustrated growl at that jab yet another reason he hates feeding in public, about ten minutes later the vampire's attention was suddenly pulled away from his dinner when a sweet enticing scent invaded his nose. 

Dabi's eyes snapped open his senses were on fire as his inner monster snarled *mine.....mine...* his breathing became labored as he turned away from the woman's neck; her blood dripping down his chin as he turned to look over his shoulder, saw a [y/ht-wt] woman with [y/hc] and starring at him in shock, his eyes drifted down and saw the blood dribbling down her leg, he let go of the woman he was feeding on, she let out a weak wheeze as she fell limply to the ground not that he cared, Dabi took a step towards his mate reaching out to her, only for the woman to snap out of her shock and run....

Leaving the vampire standing there in an almost trance like state, before he looked inside the store could smell faint traces of her blood in the air and saw the clerk washing the bloody box cutter; A guttural growl escaped Dabi's throat as he approached the door. 

The poor oblivious clerk didn't know what was coming as the door chimed telling them a customer had entered the store... "Welcome!" they greeted cheerfully. from an outside point of view there was hot flash of blue from inside the 7/11 followed by the store fire alarms going off.

The next morning you were hiding under your blanket hugging your knees your whole body was shaking while you were watching the news... there was a fire at the 7/11, the clerk was killed their remains were so badly burnt they were carbonized...

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

Bakugou: You had just started working for his agency as a secretary and were working on late paperwork one of your coworkers pushed on you so they could go on a date, you grumbled as you made your way to the elevator to drop the files off on Bakugou's desk, and were stunned to find the top floor was pitch black! you were trying the navigate in the darkness by feeling desk, when your hand brushed up against a pair of scissors someone left out you hissed feeling them cut your palm, you could feel the blood dripping down you hand and decided screw this! you were going to leave the papers on the desk outside of the boss's office for him to find in the morning, when you noticed the door was open a crack. 

You could hear deep breathing, a woman gasping and grunts, your cheeks felt hot as you though Bakugou was getting frisky with one of his fans. *I never took him for that sort...* you were just going to pretend you didn't hear anything and walk away, but curiosity got the best of you, and with careful steps you crept toward the door and peeked in, and felt you stomach drop when you realized what was going on was not a wham-bam thank you ma'am situation, you threw your hand over your mouth when you saw Bakugou eyes glowing red had his fangs sunk into this woman's neck draining her of blood! Scared you were about to quietly back away from the door when you saw the blond blink pull away from the unconscious woman, sniff the air and... you ran before he could even turn his in the direction of the door, and made it on to the elevator just as a shock of blond hair rounded the corner.

The next morning Bakugou was on edge as he recalled the events last night, one minute he's feeding off some pushy fan-girl and the next, his senses were taken over by this amazing smell it was so enticing he forgot about his hunger and overwhelmed by the insistent need of find it's source... as Katsuki turned his attention to the door he saw someone dash and and he gave chase just in time to get a split second glimpse of a woman with {y/hc} before the elevator doors closed.  

{later after he sent that fan home via cab) 

Bakugou inspected his office and found a blood trail leading from random sidekick's towards his office the couple hurried drops towards the elevator, he curiously swiped his finger threw the blood on the desk where the trail began, licked it a content rumble left his throat, his inner monster purred. *Mate...mine* however that euphoric feeling he felt had soon soon worn off into frustration as the next morning rolled around he had been in the agency all day, and no one who came in today had that scent on them! 

The blond was pissed and ready to rip someone's head off, when he overheard two of his employees talking. "Hey where’s Y/n? I have to thank her for staying back and doing my extra work last night." the other employee shrugged. "She said she hurt her hand last night and was staying home." Neither had noticed the explosive blond who immediately went to his office and pulled your file out for your address, and he here was standing on your front porch, sniffing the air as a cocky smirk graced Katsuki's lips breathing in that sweet scent from last night. "Found you..." he purred. 

[fallout4reactsblog]

What if a sole survivor that’s a teenager(like 14-16 years old) begins to view the companions and faction leaders as parental figures, before slipping up and accidentally calling them “mom” or “dad”? Just a thought.

Ada: “Ah, shit.”

Sole patted themself down, checking their pockets, before sighing. “I knew I should’ve taken the time to skin those mole rats.”

“Is something missing?”

Curious, Ada leaned over to check the project they were working on. They slid to the side to accomodate her.

“I just don’t have enough leather to finish my armor mods. I wanted to put some pockets in my chestplate so I could carry a couple extra rolls of duct tape, but I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

“Leather?”

She checked back through her mental inventory, sizing up what she was carrying. Enamel bucket, ashtrays, pack of cigarettes...

“Ah, here we are.” She pulled out a baseball glove and handed it over. “Will this suffice?”

“Oh, yeah, this is perfect!” They beamed. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime.”

If either of them noticed sole’s little slip-up, neither of them said a thing.

Cait: Sole reminded her too much of herself, some days. She knew their jaded expression, their thousand-yard stare, the haunted look of a kid who’d seen more than they should have. She knew more about them than they’d probably like, which was how she knew to stop them before they could do something they’d regret in the long run.

“No chems,” she said, plucking the canister of X-Cell out of their hands before they could get too close a look at it. It still felt dusty from its years laying in a Concord Speakeasy, and she wiped her hand on her pants.

“I know,” they huffed, rocking back on their heels. “I was just looking.”

“Well, don’t.” She tucked it into a back pocket, making a mental note to either toss it in the closest river or sell it first chance she got.

“It’s not like anything bad can happen from just looking at it, Cait. I wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“You better not have been. If you start doin’ that shite-”

“I know.” Somehow, their tone remained patient. “I promised I wouldn’t do chems, and I won’t, okay, Mom?”

The breath left her like she’d been sucker punched. For a moment, all she could do was stand there, eyes wide, unable to form a thought, much less words. Was it really like that? Had she really let things go this far? How long until she ended up like-

“I mean, uh, Cait.”

She glanced up to see their face beginning to turn red, and they ducked their head.

“Sorry, it just slipped out. I don’t, I mean, I didn’t-” They huffed. “Sorry. I know you don’t want to be a parent or anything, and I don’t mean that you should, I just...”

They prattled on nervously, as if trying to comfort both of them, words going right past Cait’s head. To think sole thought of her as a mother. She couldn’t have that responsibility. Her parents had been trusted with a child, and look how she’d turned out. She couldn’t take that risk, not with sole, not when at any moment some switch could flip inside her and she’d turn into the monsters that had raised her.

She’d known this was a bad idea, right from the start.

Codsworth: “I was thinking about putting another mod on my pistol today,” they said, hunched over the kitchen table. They were poking at some circuit board or another, something that they’d never have been allowed to touch before the war. He eyed the screwdriver in their hands warily.

“A fine idea,” he said, resigning himself once again to the fact that a new world meant a new way of life for mum and sir’s child. “Perhaps a larger magazine?”

They chewed their lower lip thoughtfully, tightening a screw. “I was thinking something more quick-eject, you know? Speed in battle and all.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“The only reason I hadn’t done it was I needed some more adhesive. But since Carla stopped by again and she had some duct tape, we should be set.”

“As I recall, Miss Carla had more than enough for an extra set of sights as well. You asked me to remind you when you had enough material for a large scope, and by my measure, you should be there now.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.” They nodded thoughtfully. “We can get that old hunting rifle in working order again. Thanks, Dad.”

He froze. Dad? Him? No, that wasn’t right. But they’d said it so casually, as if they hadn’t even realized they were saying it. Surely, they couldn’t have forgotten sir already. They’d had years with him as their father. Such things couldn’t be forgotten so easily.

“Sole.” He tried not to make his tone sound warning.

They, too, seemed to have realized what they’d said, ears beginning to turn red. “Sorry, Codsworth. I was just working and not thinking about it, and-”

“It’s alright. Such slip-ups happen, after all! We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t become a habit. After all, I’m simply the family Mr. Handy. Hardly a father. I wouldn’t want to take sir’s place.”

“Right, right. Sorry.”

“No need for apologies! We’ll simply call this a learning moment, for both of us.”

They sighed, “Sounds fair,” and returned to their work.

Curie: “You have your stimpaks, yes?”

They patted a pocket. “Got ‘em right here.”

“And your bandages?”

“In my bag.”

“Extra ammunition?”

They sighed. “Stop fussing, Mom. I told you, I’ve got everything I need.”

She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side. That was certainly an... interesting choice of words. 

“You see me as a maternal figure?”

“What?” They adjusted the straps on their bag, refusing to make eye contact.

“You referred to me as your mother. I am simply curious when you began to perceive me in such a role.”

“I don’t.” Their cheeks flushed, and they turned away further. “I didn’t call you ‘Mom,’ either.”

“Oh, but there is no need to be embarrassed! It is only natural for such things to happen. Your brain is still maturing, and as the primary provider of such maternal care in your life, it is predictable that you would-”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” They turned hastily to the door. “I’ll see you in a few days, Curie.”

“Certainly. Au revoir.”

As she watched their retreating back, she let herself consider the happy hum in her chest. Did she want to be sole’s mother? Was it that she wanted to be their mother specifically, or was there simply a general maternal instinct that was now surfacing? It was intriguing that such an instinct could exist in her, since she could never have children, but perhaps there was some lingering Ms. Nanny instinct that was affecting her. No matter what, it was certainly interesting.

If sole saw her as a maternal figure, she’d do her best to provide.

Danse: He found sole leaning against a wall, panting. There was blood splattered across their armor, gun dangling loosely from their fingers, but they were smiling, which was good enough for him.

“You look exhausted,” he said.

They laughed a little and smeared some of the blood from their cheek. “That was quite the fight. We should’ve brought some backup, huh?”

He glanced over at the scribe Quinlan had sent along, who had been of even less use than he’d expected, but decided to let that go and focus on sole. “I wouldn’t be so sure. You fared quite well on your own, and for your level of training your performance was impressive.”

Their eyes flicked over to meet his. “For real?”

“I would never lie to you, especially in your field evaluation. You’ve come a long way.”

He caught a hint of their smile before they ducked their head. “Thanks, Dad.”

He paused, sucking in a breath. While it wasn’t an uncommon mistake, it wasn’t one he was exactly willing to overlook. Still, best to approach things tactfully to avoid embarrassment for them. “What was that?”

They wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What was what?”

The scribe, tapping at the terminal, decided that was his moment to be useful. “You called Paladin Danse ‘Dad.’”

“No, I didn’t. I said, ‘Thanks, Danse.’”

He allowed himself a smile. “I didn’t know you saw me as a father figure, sole.”

“I don’t.” Still, their flush of embarrassment betrayed them.

He waved a hand through the air. “It’s alright, Knight. You wouldn’t be the first to refer to their sponsor as Mom or Dad, and I sincerely doubt you’ll be the last.”

Really, they were a good kid. Young initiates usually tended to find a substitute parental figure in the ranks, and of all sole’s options, he was glad it was him. He could keep them on the right track, make sure they didn’t go astray. With any luck, they could probably take his position someday. 

All in all, this was a good thing for both of them.

Deacon: “Deeks, how does this jacket look on me?”

He glanced up from the hats in Fallon’s Basement to see sole tugging on the sleeves of a leather jacket. It was a bit rough around the edges, but it was just worn enough that he could believe it had seen some action. It wasn’t really their style, though; Agent Whisper tended more toward a softer kind of spy work, based more on charisma and less on punching people in the face.

“I like it,” he said, rocking back on his heels. “It’s a new look for you.”

“I was thinking I should add a more badass disguise to my collection. Try for that intimidation factor every once in a while, you know?”

He tossed the idea around a moment before agreeing. “We could make it work. It’d need practice, though, and some other accessories.”

“We could go get a bat from Mo while we’re here.”

“Now you’re talking. You put a couple nails in that sucker, and boom. You’re halfway to badass city right there. We’ll just have to teach you how to actually use it so you don’t stab yourself by accident.”

“Yeah, sure, but you’ll teach me, right, Dad?”

He nearly choked. Shit. Did sole know something he didn’t? No, that couldn’t be true. He’d never had kids, despite how much Barbara wanted them. Plus, sole had known their father. He’d seen the body, still half in cryo in 111.

That left the fact that sole had come to see him as a father figure, which left him in the awkward position of either shutting that down, probably hurting their feelings in the process, or just letting it slide. But could he even consider the latter? He couldn’t be a father, not in this state. He couldn’t lie every other word and still consider himself a decent parental influence, now could he?

Still, that voice in the back of his head nagged, “Barbara would want you to say yes. She thought you’d be a good dad.”

“Deeks?”

They looked at him quizzically, obviously still looking for an answer.

He sighed and, just this once, gave in. “Sure, kid. I’ll teach you how. It’s not that much different from their intended use, really...”

Desdemona: She always had a certain fondness for sole’s reports. She never got to hear much about the missions, just a quick affirmation of success and not much else. Sole, though, sole always told her a story, starting from the beginning and highlighting anything that they thought was interesting.

“But, you know, they’re just raiders,” they said, twenty-some minutes after they’d started. “In the end, H2 got where he needed to go. Highrise will take it from here.”

She smiled and ruffled their hair, making them laugh. “Good work, agent. You’re making all of us proud.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

They froze immediately, realizing what they had said, but their moment of embarrassment was cut short by Tom’s sigh of relief.

“Finally! You know how long we’ve been waiting for this? You took so long to join the club.”

Glory caught sole’s look of confusion and added, “Everyone calls Dez ‘Mom’ at some point. It’s basically a rite of passage.”

They looked to Dez for affirmation, and she could only nod. 

“It’s true. It happens to everyone, sooner or later. I’m more than used to it by now.”

“You sure?” they asked, voice still hesitant.

“Positive. The only one that hasn’t is PAM, and she doesn’t have the capability.”

“Give her time,” Tom said. “She’ll get there.”

Gage: “You’re being stupid,” he snarled.

They glared back with surprising intensity. “You’re being a prick. You said yourself, I’m the Overboss. Things go how I want them to.”

How they’d managed that little trick, he didn’t know, but he hated it more and more every day. “Bein’ the Overboss doesn’t mean you don’t have to listen to anyone. You’re still new here. You better show me some respect.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dad,” they snapped.

That only pissed him off more. “What did you just call me, you little shit?”

They blinked, anger seeming to cool for a second. “Gage. What else?”

“No, you called me Dad.” His temper settled in return, hovering at a simmer. “Like this is some sort of family reunion or some shit.”

They snorted. “As if.”

“Don’t try and take it back now. I heard you.”

“You’re old and losing your hearing. Old fucker.”

His temper flared again, and despite that he knew they were baiting him, he couldn’t resist. “What was that?”

“What, I need to enunciate everything for you? Do you need your hearing aids, Grandpa?”

“What the fuck is a hearing aid?”

“What do you think, dumbass? It lets you hear better when you get old and lose your hearing. Like you.”

A knock on the door interrupted what he was going to say, and he snapped his mouth closed with irritation.

“Overboss?” The voice was muffled through the door. “Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” They dusted their hands on their pants, anger instantly melting into a mask of cold determination. “Come on, Gage. Work to do.”

He huffed and resolved they would finish this later.

Hancock: He was always impressed with how well sole handled Goodneighbor. It went to show that they were much tougher than their age and pre-war softness let on; that this kid who looked like they’d never even handled a gun would shoot you without question if threatened. He’d seen how they’d handled Finn.

“Cold today,” they said, blowing into their hands. “This wind is killer. You wanna head inside and check up on things while I barter here?”

They gestured in the general direction of KLEO’s shop, and he chuckled. 

“I dunno. Maybe the big, bad mayor better stick around to make sure you don’t get yourself into more trouble.”

They rolled their eyes. “Come on, Dad. I can handle myself, you know.”

They realized their mistake before he did, eyes widening, jaw snapping shut. He faltered, snappy words dying in his mouth before he got hold of himself again. Dad? Were they kidding? Their face said they weren’t.

“Woah, now.” He held up his hands. “It ain’t like that, kid. I’m not exactly the fatherly type, y’know. Cool uncle, maybe, but I ain’t anybody’s Dad.”

They huffed, clearly embarrassed, and diverted him by saying, “Bet you’ve been more than one somebody’s Daddy, though.”

“That’s more like it.” He nudged them in KLEO’s direction. “You go do your shopping, and I’ll go make sure they ain’t burnin’ down my town while I’m away.”

“Sure. If I’m not here when you get back, I’ll be in Hotel Rexford.”

“Sounds fine. Get me somethin’ nice while you’re at it, huh?”

“Alright, but I’m charging you a convenience fee.”

Content that they were back on the same page, he agreed and went to find Fahrenheit.

MacCready: “Your fever’s gone down a little.” He rested a hand against their forehead. “Seems you’re gonna pull through.”

They smiled a little, eyes still hazy with sickness and medicine. Soon, they’d be on their feet again, he hoped.

“I bet you’re a good dad, Mac,” they said. “Duncan must really love you, huh?”

He let out a sigh. Sole had been strangely emotional ever since they got sick, which had annoyed him at first, but lately he’d just come to accept it. After all, there wasn’t much he could do about it, was there?

“Jeez, I don’t even know if he remembers me. It’s been a while since I got to see him.”

“He remembers you. I mean, I remember my dad, and he’s been dead for a couple hundred years now, I guess.” They laughed a little, as if they’d said something funny. “But you should go see him. Take a break. I’ll be fine without you.”

“Nah, we’ll go together. After all, he’ll probably want to meet you.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. He’ll probably see you as some kind of adopted older sibling or something. You’ll get along.”

They exhaustion in their laugh betrayed them. “Sure, whatever you say, Dad.”

There was a wryness in their voice, an almost mocking note that told him they’d meant it as a joke, but long after they’d fallen asleep, he sat at their bedside, watching them. He’d thought he was joking, too, but now that he was along with his thoughts, he had to wonder. Maybe he did want them to meet Duncan, and maybe he did want them to get along like siblings. Could he do that? Was that wrong?

He sighed and rose from his chair. No use worrying about it now. Sole had probably been joking about him going to DC anyway. After all, there was work to be done here.

They definitely weren’t going anywhere until they were better, though. For now, he had to focus on making sure they pulled through.

Maxson: He watched them across the table as they studied the map of the Commonwealth spread between them. It was a crude battle plan, mostly consisting of bottlecaps and buttons, but it was enough for them to discuss. He found he was regularly impressed by their knowledge in this area; in many ways, they reminded him of himself at that age.

“What if we swung south?” They pushed three bottlecaps across the table. “The way C.I.T is set up makes anything but a direct assault difficult, but we could try to split their forces, or at least their fire.”

He hummed, considering. “You’re still assuming we can’t assemble Prime in time.”

“Right. I’m concerned they’ll force our hand before we’re ready. We need to be prepared for that.”

“If you hope to split their fire, we’ll have to split our forces. That means we’ll need more men overall and be pulling more away from the airport, leaving us vulnerable.”

They scrunched their face as they thought about it. “You’re right, but in these circumstances we’re already at a disadvantage, don’t you think? We’re outgunned and outmanned.”

“Both of which can be overcome by outplanning them.” He leaned back in his chair. “What you lack in physical strength can often be overcome with mental acuity.”

They glanced away from the diorama to look at him. “That’s pretty good advice. Nice one, Dad.”

He felt his heart skip a beat. They had already returned to the diorama, now considering the forces around the airport, but he suddenly couldn’t focus. Sole considered him a father figure. Did he mean that much to them that he was someone they looked to for guidance, not just on the Prydwen, but in all aspects of their life? To be a father to them, to be able to guide them, was more than he could have ever asked for.

He cleared his throat. “I believe you mean ‘Elder,’ Knight.”

“Hm?” They looked up again.

“You referred to me as something else. I’m reminding you that the proper title is ‘Elder.’“

“Oh. My apologies, Elder. It won’t happen again.”

He sighed. “I ask that you’re careful around the others. That is all.”

They nodded, mind clearly already on other things.

Nick: He watched them poke around Earl Sterling’s apartment, careful eyes taking everything in. He lingered by the doorway, letting them do their thing, curious to see how it would play out. He was taking a bit of a risk letting them work the case, but he figured he could clean up any mistakes they made along the way.

Mistake number one was probably letting them pick up all those beers, but he figured as long as he watched them sell them all, it would be fine.

“Aha!”

Triumphant, they emerged from where they had crouched on the floor, brandishing a piece of paper.

“Find somethin’?” He flicked his cigarette to the side, nudging it out with the toe of his boot.

“Some sort of receipt, I think. Facial reconstruction with Dr. Crocker. Appointment date... should have been sometime around his disappearance.”

“That means ol’ Doc could’ve been the last to see Earl alive.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Good work, kid.”

They flushed with pride and perhaps a bit of embarrassment at the praise. “Thanks, Dad.”

He raised an eyebrow, hoping they would realize their mistake on their own, but they were busy tucking the receipt into their bag. It seemed as though they hadn’t noticed at all, and after a moment of thought, he decided not to mention it. After all, there was no need to embarrass them. They’d realize what they’d said eventually.

Plus, it was kind of nice, in a way.

Piper: “You’ve got ink on your face.”

Sole glanced up from the freshly-printed edition of the paper, fingers wandering to their cheekbone. “Here?”

“Little to the left.”

“Here?”

“Less to the left.”

“Here?”

“Oh, just hold still.”

She leaned over, wiping the ink off their cheek with her thumb. It smeared a little bit, but was a marked improvement, and she scrubbed the rest away with the heel of her glove.

“There you go. Good as new.”

They nodded and returned their attention to the paper. “Thanks, Mom.”

They seemed to realize immediately, eyes widening, and Piper felt a sharp pain in her chest. 

“Aw, Blue, you know I’m not really...”

They visibly deflated. “I know. I’m sorry, Piper.”

“Not like that.” She leaned forward, putting her coffee to the side. “I’m not upset by it. I’m just not that kind of person, that’s all. I’m like your older sister, not your Mom. I wouldn’t want to replace her. It’s not a big deal, just, you know, get it in your head.”

“Older sister?” That seemed to perk them up a bit, and she smiled.

“Yeah. You’re still part of the family, Blue. Just not like that.”

They smiled. “I guess I’ll take it.”

Preston: The first sign was always the quiet. Sole wasn’t likely to stay quiet for too long; they were always listening to the radio, humming or singing along. When it was quiet for too long, that usually meant they’d either wandered off without telling him, which was never good, or they’d fallen asleep somewhere.

Sign two was the glow of a lantern at the workbench. It wasn’t uncommon for them to work late into the night, but that was always accompanied by the sound of work: the screech of metal on metal, the hum of an engine, the rattling of loose hardware in its drawers. 

Quiet and light together meant they’d fallen asleep at the workbench. Again.

“Sole.” Gently, he shook their shoulder. “Come on. You can’t sleep here.”

They sat up, bleary-eyed, a sheet of orange plastic cut from a pumpkin stuck to their cheek. Almost unseeing, they looked up at him with a sleepy, questioning hum.

“Come on.” Gently, he pulled at their arm.

“Sorry, Dad.” They rubbed their eyes, rising on unsteady feet. “I’m going.”

A smile crept to his face as he led them across the Sanctuary street to their home, making sure they got settled. Almost instantly, they were asleep again, long hours of hard living catching up to them all at once. Quietly, he closed the door behind him.

It was too good to be true. They were just tired, and mistook him for their father in the dark. But still, a part of him wanted to believe that it was possible. Maybe he could be a father to sole. He could show them how to make it here, in this unfamiliar world, and support them as they grew into the General he knew they could be.

Maybe, just maybe, they would let him.

X6: He watched them pace back and forth in front of the door, coat tails swirling with every pivot. They adjusted their lapels for the fifth time, sighed, and glanced around for a clock.

“It’s only four twenty-five,” he said. “You’ve still got twenty-five minutes.”

They sighed and sank heavily into a chair. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

They groaned and dropped their head onto the table. “You said it was thirty minutes to go, like, an hour ago.”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

He set his gun on the table with a sigh and set his sunglasses beside them. “If you keep worrying about it, you’ll only work yourself up more, and the time will seem to pass slower. Your best move would be to get a cup of coffee and relax.”

“I can’t relax.” They leaned back in their chair. “It’s my first meeting as the director. Half of the Institute already hates me because I’m so young, so if I mess this up I’ll be out on the street by dawn. This is no time to relax.”

“If you don’t relax, you’ll be more likely to make a mistake.”

“I know, but it’s easier said than done, Dad.”

He blinked. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard them properly, but his hearing was beyond satisfactory. If he’d heard it, they’d said it, but that didn’t mean anything.

“Case in point. You’re upset, you make mistakes. Like that.”

They sank their head into their hands. “You’re right. I’ll- I’ll get some coffee. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize. Humans make mistakes, after all.”

[pixiedoodlein]

I’ve decided I hate taking birth control pills, don’t want to be the one responsible for controlling our births, that A should get a vasectomy…but I’m “only” 36 and not ready to be done done forever, so I told him we need to have another baby first, then he needs to get snipped. Not right now though- I already have a baby, our plates are FULL- but within about a year. He is not interested in another baby (especially now that he’s home with the monsters every day), but in theory agrees 3 is a good number (though he is very concerned about the planet/ future of the world and generally thinks 0 kids would be the soundest number). Anytime I’ve gone off the pill I’ve immediately gotten pregnant, so for the time being I’m going to need to keep taking it.

There was a covid outbreak at work. People are objecting to my use of the word outbreak, but that’s what it was. One person (who sits at desk with mask on chin) tested positive, someone else quarantined but is supposedly negative, the person next to him (who sits at desk with mask on chin) was supposedly first negative, then came to work all week, was coughing up a storm at work, then tested positive. This org is progressive, democrats, science-believers, there’s a mask policy, etc, but everyone has become complacent. I am one of a handful of people who wear a mask at work the entire time, eat lunch outside. I am glad I got that third dose. Counting the minutes until the kids can be vaccinated. I’m hoping M by Halloween and Little Guy by Christmas. Cases are still insanely high here. If I have to bring the kids into the supermarket (Little Guy in his stroller, I optimistically believe germ air is less likely to get him there under the canopy than in a cart) we play “dodge the dummies” aka zipping around like we’re in a speed shopping challenge, zooming all over to avoid the maskless morons.

M busted her knee gruesomely on a rock a few nights ago. When it happened, I facetimed my dad, a Dr, who was like “eh I wouldn’t want to go to a hospital there, too much covid, can you put a bandaid on and take her to the pediatrician in the morning?” A wasn’t home, was out at the Dr (next to the hospital) getting his flu shot, but I knew when he saw the wound he’d be able to assess— he saw (and got) many injuries in prison. I had to wait for him to get home to do anything (one car), but when he got here he took one look at it and said “stitches, now.” In an attempt to avoid the ER I sped to urgent care, which closed one minute prior, but anyway it was too bad for them to handle, they would’ve just sent us next door to the hospital. The small town ER here was friendly but understaffed. We wore fabric + n95s, hopefully didn’t get cove. M enjoyed the wheelchair, but holding her down for the 9 stitches was Civil War-style awful. She has spent the rest of the week relaxing on the couch eating snacks and soup and watching TV. Today she finally changed her pajamas and took a few steps. She’s in a good mood and handling it well. We’ve done no school since the injury, can catch up next week. A is in charge of wound care. She cries when he changes the gauze every day, poor kid.

Work continues to be much easier than what I’m used to. I had to take some personality test, which showed me to be a “driver-visionary,” cares about getting results at nearly any cost and doesn’t care much about process. A and my previous boss/current best friend say that is accurate and I’d have to agree. I hate supervising people- the results also said I can be impatient- but had to supervise 14 at my old job, so it’s a relief here to not have to. It’s chill, rewarding work, but because it’s not about addiction I’m not all in and emotionally involved, I totally turn off when I leave. An odd but nice change of pace.

[azurethevampire]

Mando’s Lessons to Parenting Special: The Gift

A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

The Mandalorian won the vote for Christmas fic 2020 by one vote so here we are - I hope you enjoy! :)

As there isn't really Christmas in the Star Wars universe I have taken the liberty to play around with Life Day which I see as the closest equivalent to Christmas in the Star Wars universe.

Summary: Life Day is closing in and you are determined to get both The Child and Mando the perfect gifts. The little one's gift is easy enough but the closer the holiday comes the more frustrated you grow as you can't figure out a gift that would be good enough for Mando. But Din Djarin just might give you the best present yet. 

Words: 2017

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

"A hundred!?"

"Yes."

"For, for this piece of scrap?!" 

The salesperson glared at you at that. "Listen, you aren't happy with my prices-", they yanked the metallic item out of your hands with more force than necessary, "take yourself elsewhere. You're ruining my good day." 

You narrowed your eyes and grit your teeth. You had to close your eyes, take a deep breath and force yourself to turn around from the booth - which declared itself as the perfect gift shop - to stop you from entering a shouting match with the salesperson. 

How were you ever going to buy a gift for Din Djarin when it seemed every single salesperson in this town had such upscale prices for little pieces of junk?! You didn’t have that much money on you as it was and the last thing you wanted to do was borrow credits from Din. It would have been just plain wrong to use Din’s own money to buy him a gift for Life Day.

“Ugh”, you groaned and kicked a rock out of your path. Why was this so hard now? You had had no trouble finding a gift for the little green monster that you had claimed as your brother. Why was Din’s gift so difficult? It seemed that every single thing that you even considered was either too expensive for you or just wasn’t the right gift. 

 The sound of something shattering made you look up, eyes widening. Seeing that the stone you had kicked had hit a clay pot in front of a home, you halted and then groaned. 

You thought about turning around. It didn't seem like anyone had noticed you had kicked the rock. You could just turn around, run from the scene and continue your gift searching. 

But you couldn't do it; even if it weren’t for the hands that suddenly landed on your shoulders you most likely would have gone up to the house and apologized to its owner for breaking their property. 

"I hope you didn't do that on purpose, kid." 

You craned your neck backwards to look up at Cara Dune whose hands gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze. 

"I didn't", you answered honestly, although there was an underlying tone of bitterness that Cara caught on. 

The former mercenary turned sheriff frowned. "Alright, kid, we are gonna go up there and pay for the damage in a moment, but first you are going to tell me what's going on with you." 

The woman lifted a finger as you opened your mouth protest. "Ah-ah, before you tell me that 'nothing' is going on, I suggest you take into consideration that I know you kid and this is not you." 

You huffed and crossed your arms. "Fine." You said. "I can't find a gift good enough for him." 

"Who, Mando?"

"Yeah", you nodded. "Everything I even consider ends up being way too over-prized! I will never find a gift for him in time for Life Day by this rate!" 

Cara patted your head. "You take this thing way too seriously kid; have you considered that perhaps the best gift to our friend from you would be something self-made?"

"...self-made?" you repeated, seemingly dumbstruck. 

How come you hadn't thought about that? Making something to Din would indeed be a perfect gift! What else could be both affordable and show how much the man meant to you?

Suddenly you grinned and were quick to hug Cara around the waist. "Thank you! You gave me the perfect idea, Cara!" 

The former stormtrooper grabbed you by the scruff of your neck when you tried to dash away from her. "Kid, as glad as I am to help you, we had a deal, remember?"

You looked up at her sheepishly. "Sorry. I will go and apologize for breaking the vase."

•-•-•-•-•-•

The Mandalorian had never really celebrated Life Day. Never had any reason to do so. 

Now he found himself indulging his two charges and especially the older one. He barely admitted it to himself (he certainly was not going soft) but Din quite enjoyed seeing the way your face lit up when you got the permission to hang up some light strips around the Razor Crest's living area along with some other ornaments you and the kid had managed to dig up from somewhere. 

Wanting to give the kids something better on this day that so clearly meant a lot to you, Din had made an effort to buy you all a more festive meal. It was no tip-yip but it was the best substitute he could afford. Of course, he would only watch you and the kid eat and would help himself for whatever his two little troublemakers left for him after you would fall asleep. 

"Wow! This is so good!" You exclaimed once you were seated around the table on Life Day eating the meal Din had gotten for you. The child across from you made happy agreeing noises as he munched his own food. 

"I'm glad you like it, kids." 

"Are you kidding, Mando? This's gotta be the best meal I have had for a while", you said. "You gotta try this!" you insisted, pushing a plate towards the Mandalorian. 

Behind the cover of his helmet, Din Djarin grimaced. 

He knew that you had not meant anything malicious with those words but it struck him right to his heart for two reasons. One, because he was trying to do his best by both of the kids who had managed to sneak their way into his heart but initially he knew that the life he had to offer you was far from the best you and The Child could have with someone else. Two: you jested to him about his helmet most of the time but lately the jabs meant to be light had only managed to make Din feel bad. 

He knew how much he meant to you. For crying out loud, you had accidentally called him dad a while ago - not that you seemed to remember and he wasn't about to remind you even if he sort of wanted to.

You two little rascals had come to mean the world to him, so why couldn't he take his helmet off in front of you?

"Okay!" Your voice interrupted the Mandalorian's train of thought. You sounded both excited and nervous as you pushed your now empty plate away from you. "It's time for the gifts!" 

Gifts?!

Dank farrik, I forgot about the presents!

You proceeded to take out two messily wrapped boxes from under the table, one being significantly smaller in size than the other. 

The Child tilted his head curiously as you passed him the smaller one. "Happy Life Day, brother", you wished and then helped him unwrap the gift. 

It revealed a small metallic ball, much similar to the one from the cockpit that The Child loved to play with, Din noticed. And if the happy babbling noises The Child made indicated anything, he enjoyed his gift. 

"And uh… this is for you, Din", you said next, obviously nervous and pushed the larger of the gifts towards the Mandalorian. 

His hands automatically wrapped around the package but he didn't open it yet, looking at you instead. "Y/N…" he began, somewhat hesitating. What if you got mad at him for not having a gift in return? "I'm sorry but I forgot about the gifts - I don't have one for you." 

"...oh", you said, and Din didn't like the fact that he couldn't make out if it was a disappointed 'oh' or a neutral one. But then a small smile appeared on your face. "It's okay, I- you agreeing to celebrate today with us is a gift enough for me." 

No, it is not. It shouldn't be, Din thought but said nothing and only bobbed his head slowly. 

"Well, aren't you going to open it?" you asked with a frown. 

The Child also looked at the Mandalorian with a questioning, almost demanding look. Din Djarin let out a chuckle, slightly altered by his voice modulator. "Alright, kids, I'll open it,” he relented. 

What the wrapping revealed made Din Djarin’s eyes sting and his vision blurred a bit. It was not the best artwork he had seen in his life but at the same time, it definitely was the most beautiful one. 

You had excelled yourself this time. He wondered how long it had taken you to make this. 

From behind his visor, Din looked at three self-made figurines with blurry eyes. They were standing on a small round pedestal made of moss and small rocks. The tallest figure wore an armor resembling his beskar one and was holding a bundle of green with one arm as the other was wrapped around the shoulders of a figurine of a little girl.

On the bottom edge of the rock pedestal was carved one word, a word that Din didn't even know you knew; Aliit. 

Family in Mando’a. 

Was this the your way of telling him that this was how you saw Din? How you saw the three of you?

Suddenly Din realised that both of the children were looking at him. There had been a smile on your face but as the seconds dragged by and Din hadn’t said anything the smile faded. 

“I- I can make you a new one if you don’t-”

“No!” Din said, maybe a bit louder than was necessary, startling both of the kids as you jumped slightly in your seats. “No, Y/N”, he said next, in a gentler tone. “... it’s…” he tried to search for a word that would convey how much this gift had managed to move something inside him but he didn’t know such word, and he cursed himself for it. Instead he reached out and took your hand in his, squeezing it. “Thank you, kid.” 

The smile returned to your face and Din felt relief wash over him. 

This was how it was supposed to be: his kids were supposed to be happy. 

Din carefully lifted the group of figurines from the table. “I know the perfect place for it.” 

“Yeah, what is that?” you asked, now curious. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, kid”, Din said, his voice having a playful edge to it. 

•-•-•-•-•-•

“Thank you, Din.” 

The Mandalorian pushed your hair behind your ear. It was nighttime, and the Child had already fallen asleep in the middle of playing with his new toy. After all these months, Din Djarin still marvelled at how it had become a mundane routine for him to tuck you kids in your beds before laying down himself. 

“I should be thanking you, kiddo.” 

You frowned. “For what?” 

For giving me a family I didn’t know I needed, he thought, but couldn’t make himself to say it. “For showing me the meaning of Life Day.” 

“Oh”, you said. You pat his armor-covered arm a few times. “You’re welcome.” 

No, this didn’t cut it, Din thought. He should be able to give you something. Something that you would - could - hold valuable. But you would fall asleep soon and the moment would be gone. 

Then it struck him. 

He could give you the perfect Life Day gift after all. Something that you had wanted as long as you had known him. 

“Hey kiddo?” You hummed in response as you had already closed your eyes. “Don’t go to sleep yet. I have something for you.” 

“Wh-what?” you mumbled, drowsily opening your eyes again. You pushed yourself to sit and let your eyes fall on the Mandalorian. 

For a few seconds, Din Djarin hesitated but then his hands moved to the sides of his helmet. 

Your eyes widened as you understood what he was about to do. 

And Din Djarin removed his helmet for the first time in front of you, letting you see the face that you had so long been begging to see. 

“Happy Life Day, kid”, he said softly. 

You teared up and all you could do was to stare at him in the eyes you had dreamed to see on so many occasions.