#watched two episodes and an au has been fully fleshed out

[whatwooshkai]

just tucked away a transformers supernatural au starring skyquake and dreadwing into my drafts. one day

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector's Edition:  The Fics That Started It All

Sometime into quarantine, I ran across The X-Files while watching YouTube reacts. Frustrated by the vague clips and loose connective tissues these vids gave, I pulled up Wikipedia and decided to venture forth on my own. My first solo episode was either Ice or Squeeze, can’t remember which. From there, I raced through the seasons at breakneck speed, but stopped cold turkey after Existence (and refused to finish the rest.) It was either a Reddit link or a Google link that brought me to Tumblr for fill-ins after S8-- and from there, magic. 

The First Three (in loose order): 

 skuls/@ghostbustermelanieking

ghostbustermelanieking writes the best short and punchy fics; in fact, it was through perusing her Tumblr that I came to the radical realization that I love shorter fics over larger ones. Her AUs are probably her best work, period, especially if you like to-the-point stories that speak pages of meaning through a handful of words. I have (probably) all of skuls’s fics saved, but my favorites are her tiny fics on Tumblr. I fear everyday they shall be nuked into the void. (Updated: I copy-pasted them all into Google Docs, so I’m prepared for the apocalypse. >:) )

IVF Christmas is that fic that will get me goofy smiling every. single. time. Can’t help myself-- must include quote and summary: 

“...But when she gets back, she finds Maggie and Mulder engaged in polite conversation, probably spurred on by the fact that he’s been in an incredibly good mood since some time this morning. He keeps catching her eyes over Maggie’s shoulder and grinning dopily. Scully smiles back.”

Scully and Mulder have just celebrated positive IVF news; and Scully, due to fly out to Cali that morning with Maggie, cannot leave Mulder behind. What follows are poignant one-off moments throughout their trip. The dialogue is stupendous. skuls is blessed with the ability to use every. tiny. detail. to flesh out her characters into fully formed, realistic people.  This fic is tiny in size, but mighty in content. Many a longer fic has paled in comparison to this giant.

@baronessblixen (Ao3) 

I cannot remember if I found skuls or Baroness Blixen first; but they were the anchors that locked me into this wonderfully varied world of stories. I DO know Baroness (or Anika) is the sweetest responder to anons, and got me interested in opening my own blog. I have no idea which of her fics I read first (except that it was either IVF or S8); so there’s nothing specific to link. Her fics cover all fic genres, all XF eras, all possible ins and outs. To pick just one is a crime; but I had to settle on Five Minutes (Ao3)--

“It’s time.

“I took one five minutes ago.”

“Oh,” he says. Then, once realization kicks in, his eyes grow wide. “Oh!”” 

--because it’s the perfect pair to skul’s above IVF fic. 

(Also: if I remember correctly, this is her favorite fic: a perfect blend of complex, unavoidable pain and happy endings for Mulder, Scully, and Will on the run.) 

@wexleresque/hllsteeth 

I can’t remember how or when I found hllsteeth’s fics; but she has Mulder’s special brand of snark and Scully’s subtle duality down to a science. My heart immediately knit itself onto her stars fic; and I had a mini heart attack when I lost it briefly-- but LO AND BEHOLD, I have recovered it! (She’s currently writing an AU for Requiem that captures S1 Mulder and Scully to a T. Highly recommend.)

““You said you’d take him for the next two weeks,” his mother hisses into the phone from the kitchen, hardly making an effort to conceal her voice. “What am I supposed to do now, Bill?”

Fox plays with the frayed edge of his t-shirt as he sits on the stairs and listens. Upstairs, his well-worn suitcase is stuffed full of the necessities for two weeks at his father’s Vineyard house. He should be on his way there by now, listening to the sound of his father spitting sunflower seeds out the window as they carve through the New England roads. According to his mother, there’d been a hold up, something about his father’s job and a meeting with the Secretary of State. Thinking back to the feeble explanation, Fox snorts and shakes his head. He’s heard that particular line half a dozen times by now.”

This is brilliant. Mulder’s intelligence and miserable affectation in the face of his parents’ bitter back-and-forth is incredibly well-depicted. Bill’s and Tena’s emotional neglect of their son is more powerful than other fics I’ve read, which are peppered with overt physical abuse. This speaks to that cold vein of an upper-crust, older generation, where disapproval is a defter weapon than a fist. Mulder going through the motions for his father’s sake is so poignant that it hooked me forever on fanfic. (Lost this once and was immediately heartsick.) 

These authors are the ride-or-die for me. Every piece they’ve written is nuanced and worth its weight in gold. But, more importantly, without them I would never have ventured into fic as entertainment, or spent a year elbows-deep into the guts of Ao3, Gossamer, and Tumblr mini-fics. May they live forever.

This was long-winded-- rest assured, from here on out my posts will be far tidier and far less rambly.

Enjoy! 

[kinktae]

bitchin’ || pt. 8 (M)

The 80s were a time of choices. Which perm was right for you? What color neon would you wear next? None of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jeon Jungkook.

pairing: fratboy!jungkook x reader

word count: 4k

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l

warnings: sir kink, student/teacher roleplay, oral (f), fingering, hand job, overstimulation, another bussy slap, peepee in veevee, jk kind of uses y/n like a pocket pussy LMFAOOO, angst

A/N: This fic was inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. Thank you to @junqkook for letting me use her likeness!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

PART EIGHT 

“Mom told you I was coming down for Christmas, right?” You chirped into your phone’s earpiece, pressing it between your cheek and shoulder as you needed both hands to slip on your socks.

You had just finished brushing your teeth when your phone began to ring; you were surprised but delighted to hear your sister Rosa greet you from the other end. It felt like ages since you had spoken to either of your sisters. Sure, you gave your parents a ring every weekend, but your siblings had their own lives to worry about, you assumed.

“Not even! You know, Sammy broke up with his girlfriend last month, so he’s spending it with us for once.” Your elder sister replied.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, still stiff from sleep.

“All of us on one couch again, huh. That hasn’t happened since the final episode of M.A.S.H premiered on TV.”

“God, I’ve never seen Dad cry as much as he did that night.” Rosa reminisced, pulling a giggle from you as you replied the memory on your head. Your entire family with their noses pressed to the television’s screen, bidding farewell to a story and cast you had loved since you were seven.

“So when are you coming down then? Has winter break started for you guys yet?”

“Not yet,” you told her, “and I still have to ask Jungkook if he’d want to drive down together.”

“Jungkook?”

You froze, the fact that your family had no idea about your fake boyfriend completely slipping your mind.

“H-He’s a friend. We went to the same high school and… yeah…” You trailed off pathetically, feeling extremely vulnerable talking to Rosa about a boy.

The last she knew about your love life was the proposal… and your rather hasty return of the ring.

“A friend.” She repeated knowingly. “And will I be meeting said friend sometime this Christmas?”

Two knocks against the dorm door rang out suddenly, momentarily distracting you.

Jungkook? Meeting your family?

The idea should have made you snicker, easily dismissible, but sat in your small dorm room, on the very bed you and Jungkook often hung out on, you couldn’t help but picture yourself sat at your family’s dinner table, a Christmas dinner laid out in front of you.

You couldn’t deny how easy it was to picture him sitting beside you, chatting happily with everyone. Jungkook was important to you, in more ways than you cared to admit, and the idea of your family knowing that made your stomach flood with butterflies.

“Um… maybe, actually. Yeah.”

You hardly heard your sister’s noise of excitement as another series of knocks pulled you from your thoughts, these louder in volume.

Alright, alright.

You sighed, “Hey, I’m sorry, someone’s at the door. I’ve got to go, Rosa. Tell Lia I said hi?”

“You got it, dude.” Was your sister’s cheeky reply, a soft clang ringing out as you hurriedly placed the earpiece back onto the rotary phone.

You wondered who was at the door? It couldn’t be Yara as she had left for her first class not even ten minutes ago. Maybe it was your dorm floor’s RA?

Yanking the door open, you meet the eyes of an anxious-looking Jungkook, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Well, you’re up early.” You quirked up an eyebrow.

“Can I come in?” He ignored. You frowned.

“Of course.”

Jungkook stepped forward in an instant, shutting the door behind him.

“What’s wrong—”

His mouth found yours suddenly, hands gripping your waist as he pulled you into him. You let out a soft gasp at his sudden motions but returned the kiss quickly, mewing as he pushed you up against the nearest wall.

Your head felt like it was spinning, it had all happened so quickly; his hand holding a leg of yours up and around his waist so that he could slip a thigh between yours.

He always smelled great in the morning, like body wash and his shampoo. You intertwined your fingers into his freshly dried hair, his tongue already pushing past your lips.

You tasted like the mint of your favorite brand of toothpaste. He imagined if he had caught you any later then the mint would have been accompanied by the taste of coffee, knowing the way you rarely started a day without a cup.

God, he had missed the taste of you.

“Where’s Yara?” He broke the kiss lazily, redirecting his mouth onto the skin where your jaw met your neck.

You let out a soft whine, enjoying the way he was nipping and licking at your sensitive skin.

“S-She just left for class.”

“Perfect.”

Head cloudy, you watched as the handsome boy sunk to his knees, sitting on the back on his heels as he began to press kisses on your still bare thighs on show thanks to your pajama shorts. You were utterly enthralled by the sight of him, his eyes dark and ravenous as he nipped at your flesh.

You were jerked back into reality, however, when one of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, his intentions suddenly hitting you.

“W-Wait!” You panicked.

Jungkook’s eyes met yours curiously, pressing a kiss again your clothed center as he raised an eyebrow as if to ask you what was wrong.

You let out a squeal at the sight of Jungkook’s mouth against your most intimate parts. Bringing both hands to cover your face, you spoke through your fingers.

“You, um, don’t have to—“

“I want to.” He replied bluntly, pressing more kisses against you, your hips jerking into him consequently.

Your reaction told him everything you couldn’t. Erik had never gone down on you. So Jungkook was going fucking to relish every second in being the first man who would ever have you like this.

“I’ll be gentle, nerd. I promise. I’ll take care of you.”

He ran his thumb up and down against your clothed slit as he contemplated just exactly how he wanted you.

His decision was made for him, however, as a hand of yours came down timidly, pulling at the tied knot which kept your shorts up.

Jungkook was preening as he watched you peel the clothes off your body, a shy look on your face. He was rock hard in his sweats, too eager at the prospect of eating you out to wait for you to take off your underwear, his tongue running flat against the wet patch of your panties.

“Fucking beautiful.” He cursed as your breath spiked, fingers coming back down to finger his hair.

You felt like you were losing your god damn mind. The sight alone of Jungkook running his tongue against you was enough to bring you to climax, but it was his tongue’s discovery of your clit that finally had you moaning out. He ran the hot muscle around it, the fabric of your cotton underwear rubbing against it with just enough pressure to have you bring your hips into him.

You had this dozed off look on your face, he noticed, your jaw slightly ajar as your brows furrowed with every little movement his mouth made.

Cute.

You let out a cry, heading tilting back into the wall as two of his fingers pushed past your damp underwear up into you, not bothering to tease your sopping entrance.

“That feel good, little girl?“

"Y-Yes, sir.”

He could see the way your little fists clenched at your sides, craving purchase but unsure of what to grip onto as the wall offer no grip. If his mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, he would have pleaded for you to dig them into his hair, tugging at his scalp as you lost yourself on the feeling of his mouth.

He flattened his tongue over your clothed slit, reeling at how wet you were for him, tasting you through the cotton; the little noises you were making only edged his actions further.

“You’re so wet.” Jungkook groaned.

An involuntary jerk of your hips was his cue to curl his fingers into deeper than he had been previously, pulling his mouth away from you to press a kiss onto your thigh. He watched with a smug grin as you unraveled in front of him, his fingers hitting a spot that had your toes curling.

”Fuck.“

The word slipped from you, tangled with broken whines as you finally climaxed.

You hadn’t even managed a minute to yourself when Jungkook’s mouth found yours again, guided by the desperate need to feel you again.

Somehow you found yourself back in your room, Jungkook hovering above you as he kissed you slowly and deeply, hips rocking into yours mercilessly. The fabric of your panties tugged against your most intimate parts, and Jungkook swallowed your whimpers greedily.

It didn’t take long for his slim digits wrap around the sides of your panties, tugging down the ruined garment, sitting back on his heels to get a proper look at your exposed glistening cunt.

"Ah, fuck me already.” Your impatience caught up with you, eyebrows furrowing. You had managed to lose all articles of clothes, yet there was Jungkook, fully dressed, not an inch of his skin exposed.

A cry let you as his hand came down onto your already swollen clit, tucking a lip between your teeth to suppress back the moan that threatened to come out.

“What an indecent student I have.” He scoffed, despite the way he rubbed at your clit gently.  "Maybe if you asked politely, you’d get what you want from me.“

You mewed, "Mm, I-I’m sorry, sir, please, need you inside of me. I can’t wait any longer.”

Jungkook abandoned your clit suddenly, tapping a finger against his chin as if pretending to contemplate your plea. You whimpered as he brought that same finger up to his mouth, wrapping his tongue around it decidedly.

“Hmm, I think I’ll take my time with you, actually.” He cooed once his fingers were well wet, pressing them back into you.

Your pussy welcomed his fingers greedily, velvety walls molding to the slender digits as they fucked into you, making a mess of you.

Frustration was pushed aside for a moment, eyes fluttering closed as you drowned yourself in the pleasure your pretend lover was giving you.

“Beautiful. So fucking gorgeous.” The dark-haired boy breathed, mostly to himself.

A surprised noise fell from him as one of your hands snuck it’s away over to his crotch, pulling down his sweats and wrapping itself around his hard cock.

“I want to make… you feel good, too.” You admitted through a hiccup, and if it weren’t for the feeling of your hand pumping his shaft, Jungkook would have leaned over and pressed a kiss to your nose.

He whined through his nose, jaw locked as he continued fingering you.

Pants filled the room, and you weren’t sure if you were groaning at the feeling of Jungkook’s hands on you or the noises he let out as you ran your thumb over the leaking red tip of his head. Probably a mixture of both.

He really was so irritating, even his sex noises were attractive.

Suddenly, his hand wrapped around yours, pulling it off his fat cock with a hiss. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your hands, breathing uneven.

“That’s enough, baby. You did so well for me.” He praised, earning a shy smile from you.

The smile was short-lived, however, as his insatiable mouth found your clit again, lapping at it as he sucked the bud into his mouth. A sob tumbled out, your thighs wrapping around his head as you were blinded by the stimulation.

You were so close, and you didn’t want to cum without having his cock inside you. The idea alone made you want to cry.

A desperate ramble of pleas for him to take you came rushing out of you, hand tugging at his hair to pull him away from you.

“Alright, alright.” Jungkook laughed, obliging you as he sat back up, hand leading his cock towards your dripping entrance. “God, you’re so fucking cute.”

Then something miraculous happened.

As his cock sunk into you, accompanied by the light circling of your clit, something inside you snapped, your orgasm hitting you hard and unexpectedly. Jungkook watched in awe as your back arched, your entire body shaking as you slowly came down.

“Baby, did you come?” He breathed incredulously once your eyes finally found him again.

“Yeah…” You whined, cheeks warm and chest rising sharply.

“Do you…” he swallowed, gripping the part of his cock that had yet to make its way inside you, “do you think you can come again for me?”

One of his hands was resting on your thigh, his palm burning against your skin. You flashed him a guilty look before shaking your head no.

Your body and head felt heavy and tired, and as much as you’d like to think you could spend forever intertwined with Jungkook, you had minimal experience with multiple orgasms.

Jungkook pressed a kiss to your mouth before nodding, moving to pull out of you, “That’s okay. I understand.”

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah?”

“…You don’t have to stop.” You muttered shyly.

“Hm? But I thought you—”

“It doesn’t matter, you can still… You can keep going. I don’t care if I don’t come.” You insisted. “You can use me until you get off. I don’t mind if it’s you.”

If it’s you.

Jungkook felt his ears grow red; you wanted him to use you to get himself off? And just like that, that familiar feeling rising in his chest. The feeling that everything was more than it was– that you were his, and he was yours.

You placed a hand onto of his, squeezing it. He blinked, thoughts vanishing the moment he saw your suggestive eyes.

A wolfish smirk crept onto his face.

“On your tummy, baby.”

A soft chirp fell from you, muffled slightly by the pillow your face was resting on as he slid into you from behind, this time bottoming out all the way like he wanted.

His grip on your hips tightened, a drawn-out groan sounding out.

“So tight for me.”

You held back your groans as he built up his rhythm, his cock hitting deep within you. Jungkook’s mouth was pressing kisses against your shoulder, his sharp breaths and soft groans flooding into your ears.

"You’re in so deep, fuck.” You gasped, burying your face into the pillow at a particularly hard thrust.

God, you were grateful that Yara wasn’t home, as there was no way she wouldn’t be able to hear how loud the two of you were being.

Sweat glistened where ever your bodies touched, leaving you feeling hot and overwhelmed, pussy on fire from waves of overstimulation.

Suddenly, Jungkook let out a low grunt, slowing down his thrusts, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, where do you want me to cum?”

With sluggish effort, you prompted yourself back up on your elbows, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Inside me.” You begged without hesitation. He let out a noise of regard, bitting down on the spot of your neck that he knew you were particularly fond of.

“Yeah? Want me to stuff you with it? Fill you up all nice?”

He couldn’t help himself. His hand found its way underneath you, fingertips brushing your clit lightly and in quick motions.

A broken wail accompanied your nod, head falling forward as your mind went blank beyond return.

“Hmph, y-yes, fuck, please!”

“Anything for my baby. Anything she wants. My pretty girl.” He cooed against your skin, panting and hips stilling.

You met your third and final climax alongside Jungkook, insides painted with layers of his hot cum. Jungkook worked himself through his orgasm, softly thrusting into your spazzing walls until he was milked entirely dry.

Pulling out of you, he flopped down beside you, hand coming up to run through his sweat-dampened hair. You rolled over with a huff, vision still spotty.

“How are you feeling?” Your meathead inquired.

“Radical. And you?”

“Bitchin’.” He grinned up at the ceiling.

He turned to face you suddenly, placing a hand on your cheek. For a second, you thought he was going to say something, but as he laid his head back down onto the pillow, you realized it was more a gesture of affection than a request for attention, his thumb rubbing against your cheekbone.

You ran your fingertips against his bicep, enjoying the way every trail of your touch left goosebumps against his skin.

The room was comfortably quiet, except for the ticking of that clock of yours– the one Jungkook told you time and time again that he hated.

“What are you doing for Christmas? Are you going home?” You asked suddenly, the question weighing on your mind for a while.

“Actually, my parents are out of town for Christmas.”

You felt disappointment crash over you, a small frown finding your lips.

“Oh. Bummer.”

Jungkook chuckled at your sour expression, leaning over suddenly to press a kiss against your pouting mouth.

“Nah, it’s okay. I still go down to visit friends and shit. I usually spend Christmas with one of them.” He reassured you, mouth finding your neck as he began to press kiss down it.

You let out a sigh, fingers gripping Jungkook’s shoulders.

Okay, it’s now or never. Spit it out already.

“Do you… What if you spend Christmas with me?” You finally managed to squeak out.

“You,” Jungkook pulled back from you, something indecipherable crossing his eyes, “want me to spend it with you?”

You turned away from his intense stare, heat creeping up your neck.

Part of you wondered if you should brush him off with a laugh, telling himself to check his ego before that big head of his exploded. That you only offered as an act of kindness.

“Yeah, I do.” Was your reply, however.

“Oh.”

His reply was immediate and disheartening. You brought your duvet up to cover your bare chest, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“My mom’s Christmas pecan pie is kind of legendary, you know. And she always makes way too much. We have leftovers that last us the rest of the week.” You rambled awkwardly.

“Y/N–”

But it was too late. The nervous word vomit had already set in.

“You don’t have to, of course! I mean, that’s probably weird, right? Like, meeting the family, woah, intense! That’s something couples do and we’re… Anyway, I just thought maybe since we’re pretty close we could–”

“I have to tell you something.” He interrupted, sounding serious.

It wasn’t until then that you noticed the way his chest was rising irregularly, breaths shallow and ragged. He looked… uneasy.

“Okay. Tell me.” You replied gently, look at him inquisitively.

“Kiri came over last night.”

Your stomach dropped, “Oh?”

“She wants to get back together.” Jungkook swallowed dryly, eyes wavering between yours as if to gauge your reaction.

“…Oh.”

You shook your head.

“I mean, wow! That’s… That’s great!” You smiled, something tearing apart inside you as the words left your lips.

“Y/N–”

“Seriously! This means it worked, right? This is exactly what you wanted to happen.” You enthused, turning your head so that he couldn’t see way your eyes had welled up.

Jungkook’s heart was pounding in his ears, fighting the urge to wrap his arms around you.

“Yeah… yeah, no, you’re right. We did it.” He replied monotonously.

You blinked back the tears, refusing to let yourself cry over a boy you weren’t even dating.

“Yeah. We did.”

Silence fell over the room, the air swarming with uncomfortable tension. God, you didn’t want this. You didn’t want this at all. Things were so good just a second ago. You would do anything to go back to when Jungkook was on top of you and telling you how beautiful you were.

Clearing your throat, you rolled back over to face him.

“So tell me, meathead. How’d it go? We oughta go and buy champagne or something.“

Jungkook offered you a smile, and maybe it was you looking too far into it, but it certainly felt insincere.

"She came over to my room last night. Said she wanted to talk.”

“And what did she say?”

“Uh… not a lot, actually.”

“Huh? What did you guys do then?”

There was something guilty in the way Jungkook looked at you– something that had you feeling uneasy.

“…You slept with her.” You blinked.

Jungkook sat up in the bed, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck anxiously.

“She was saying how she missed me and then suddenly she was kissing me and I… I don’t know I kind of just reacted–"

“Wait.” You sat up straight, expression hard. “Let me get this straight. You fucked her last night. And this morning… you fucked me.”

You felt sick. To think that just a few hours ago, Jungkook’s dick was inside someone else. The mouth that was kissing you and telling you how much you meant to him, was doing the same for Kiri not even a full day ago.

So, what… were you just Jungkook’s to fuck around with whenever he wanted?

“Are you mad?” He called out cautiously, a heavy feeling falling onto his chest.

“Why would I be mad?” You quipped back sharply, causing Jungkook to flinch. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“I just thought… I mean we’ve been fooling around a lot lately, so I didn’t know if—”

“If what? I had feelings for you?” You scoffed. “Please, as if I’d ever fall for you.”

And there it was— everything Jungkook already knew but had been so afraid to hear. Of course, you didn’t feel for him what he felt for you. How could he have expected anything different?

Fuck. What had he done?

Your mattress groaned as you slipped off the bed, beginning to hastily dress.

“You can go.” You continued, pulling your shirt over your head.

Jungkook’s heart sank, “What?”

“You got what you wanted from me, right? Mission accomplished.”

“Nerd, that’s not why—” His words were stopped by the impact of his shirt being thrown into his chest, your stare ice cold.

“Don’t fucking call—” You paused, attempting to calm yourself with a shaky breath. “I have class. Please just… go.”

Jungkook did nothing for a moment, staring at you with those guilty eyes that did nothing but hurt you further.

You were a smart girl. So how did you let someone like him make a complete fool out of you?

You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but you refused to let him see how small you felt right now. So you stood there unwaveringly as you faced the boy you had so stupidly let into your heart.

Jungkook could hear the way you struggled to steady your breaths as he dressed; he had never hated himself more than he did right now. There was so much he should be saying, yet he couldn’t find the words. Even as he was fully dressed and met your eyes one final time, he still remained voiceless, despite the way his insides screamed to say something that could take back what he had done. Something that would fix what he had just broken.

“Now.” You stated, tone void of emotion.

It was a front, of course, just a means of hiding the way you felt like you were crumbling. Even when Jungkook slipped past you wordlessly, you still held steady. And it wasn’t until you heard the click of the front door closing that you finally let yourself break, eyes wet as your lips parted, a small sob slipping past them.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ 18.5

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 3.2k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

act two ➻ part 8.5

​​​

Jongho doesn’t need to be told what’s going on. He senses it before Yeosang even comes to the door, feels Yeosang’s presence outside the door, the heat of his emotions, and the slight panic that courses through his veins. He doesn’t need to be told that Mingi is having an episode because he can feel it. Which is why when Yeosang goes to knock on the door, Jongho opens it a breath too soon, and Yeosang nearly topples forward and trips over the air. Jongho doesn’t need to reach out and catch him – Yeosang stays on his two feet just fine – but he does regardless, rough hands hitting the much smaller man square in the chest to keep him from falling forward. He doesn’t need to ask, yet he does.

“Mingi?”

“Mess hall.”

“Okay. Did he hurt anyone?” Jongho has the questions memorized. No matter how many times he says them, the answers rarely change, and he knows Yeosang well enough to pick up on the emotional cues. That’s how he knows Wooyoung is fine before Yeosang even opens his mouth to tell him so.

“No, I got Wooyoung out of there before he could.”

“Hongjoong?”

“Tried already.”

“Yunho?”

“Couldn’t help.”

“Ah,” Jongho exhales, even though he already knew the answers to those questions before asking them. He’s the last resort. He always is. Hongjoong demands priority – he needs to feel useful somehow, but it always backfires and hurts him in the end. Then comes Yunho, the ever desperate healer, the arrogance that drives him to believe that he can fix everything and everyone – including Mingi. The reality, however harsh and cruel it may be, is that none of them are Jongho. None of them understand Mingi the way he does. None of them are Berserkers. It’s just a simple fact, but one that they can’t seem to wrap their minds around, which is why Jongho is always the last resort.

He pushes past Yeosang to step into the corridor. His steps are hurried but not frantic; there is no panic or worry in his bones as he walks towards the mess hall. It’s routine almost. Perhaps someone else might feel bitterness or some sort of resentment towards this system they have. Not Jongho though. He bears no hatred or thinly veiled anger about the arrangement they carry out. Part of him feels the tuggings of responsibility when he looks at Mingi. When he looks at Mingi and sees… something. Something different, something painful, something raw and broken.

When Mingi first joined the crew, the others all expected Jongho to understand him. To read him like a book and take him apart with ease. He hadn’t been able to do that at any point in time. Because he and Mingi are not the same, never have been and never will be. Jongho was raised by a loving mother and father. A mother who was a Berserker just like him, who took care of him and looked after him without any hesitation. Taught him everything there was to know about what it meant to be a Berserker. Mingi, on the other hand, was not given that luxury. His father never loved him; he loved money. Power. Blood. And that’s what Mingi gave him, because it was the only thing he knew.

The mess hall is quiet when he steps inside. Not empty, but quiet. Hongjoong stands at the edge of the room, leaning up against the frame of the entrance with arms crossed over his chest. Disappointment radiates off him in waves, but not directed at anyone except himself. Yunho stands beside him with a similar stance, although he can’t look at Mingi’s curled form. The room is otherwise empty, and that’s probably for the best. And Mingi. Mingi lies on the floor, not near the center but somewhere off to the side between a few tables. He’s on his hands and knees, back curved in a way that is painful to look at, and as Jongho draws nearer, he can see the tremble in his shoulders. He doesn’t think to ask what happened. It wouldn’t be necessary anyway. He barely notices that Yeosang is no longer hot on his heels and following his steps.

“It’s too much of a burden to put on his shoulders.”

Hongjoong doesn’t verbalize the words, but he can feel them regardless. Words that have been muttered and whispered against hot ears when they think Jongho can’t hear them. None spoken with malice or hatred. Just… concern. Worry. Fear.

“He’s so young. Why do we push this onto him?”

Because Jongho understands him. Knows Mingi better than Mingi knows himself. Feels the things he feels, even if they were raised differently and experience it differently. He understands the control, the taut thread keeping Mingi tied to sanity, and how it threatens to snap. And when it wavers and trembles — that is where these episodes find him.

“I’m the captain. I should handle this myself.”

Hongjoong doesn’t understand it. The things that he wishes to understand are things that he can never hope to grasp.

“I’m a healer. A medic. This is my job.”

Yunho fails to realize that it isn’t his responsibility. It is his job, but not his burden to bear. He sees Mingi as something broken, when Mingi isn’t broken at all. Mingi is a bird that never learned to fly, a slave without a master, a boy robbed of his innocence too young. Not broken.

Jongho hesitates near Mingi. The older man doesn’t shift or make any indication of acknowledging him. The emotions are there though, and that’s how Jongho knows that Mingi is fully aware of his lingering presence behind him.

“Mingi,” he starts, tone so soft and quiet that he can barely hear it himself. Ever so slowly, he lets himself squat down beside Mingi’s body. Heat. It radiates off him in waves. Then in the corner, concern from Yunho, the lingering taste of disappointment from Hongjoong, and nothing else. Patience is a challenging game to play, even harder when it comes to Mingi, but necessary. Thus, Jongho waits. Watches the way Mingi’s shoulders tremble from effort, the tethered thread in his mind wavering but never breaking. He’s fighting it so hard. “Mingi, can you hear me?”

“I-I… can’t. Can’t. Need. N-Need it.” His tone is desperate and fragile. Nothing like the cruel and heartless killing monster he seems to be. Mingi brings a hand up to clasp the back of his neck. His nails tear at the skin in attempts to break it and draw blood.

“No, you don’t.” Mingi’s fingers falter. He hesitates. For a moment, his nails cease their warpath on his skin.

“I want to – want to k-kill.” Mingi lifts his chin a little. He doesn’t look up quite yet, and Jongho knows it’s because he can feel the lingering emotions at the other side of the room. He is more afraid of losing control than he should be. The danger is minimal. Mingi won’t kill either of them. Hongjoong knows it, as does Yunho, and Jongho as well. Mingi is the only one who doesn’t trust it.

“You don’t want to, Mingi,” Jongho insists, letting his elbows find purchase on his knees. Jongho gets it on occasion. The sudden urgings that Mingi suffers from – the need to take control over all the emotions hitting him from all sides. It manifests itself differently for every Berserker. For Jongho, it takes the form of guilt. Brings all his wrongdoings to life and places them before his eyes in a way that’s almost tangible. He can never overcome it alone, and that fact almost makes him feel weak. Yunho’s soft hands in his hair, San’s mellifluous voice in his ears, Seonghwa’s mint-like scent that permeates his senses until the hallucinations pass, Hongjoong’s emotions hitting him square in the chest and reminding him that this is real. It isn’t violent. Emotional, yes. Painful for himself and only himself. But for Mingi, it manifests in violence. Anger and every emotion on the spectrum of rage.

Mingi’s fingers draw away from his neck, but he brings the hand down to his other arm a second later. His nails dig deep, he’s desperate to break skin, he’s burning for the red that will flow from his flesh. Jongho can’t let him have it. If he does, then that thin thread of sanity will snap. Years of progress down the drain. A hard reset. He reaches out, hand brushing against Mingi’s shoulder blades.

Mingi jerks at the touch, almost as though he’s been burned. He doesn’t verbally cry out, but Jongho hears the pained cry in his movements and emotions. It hurts every time. A small and nagging sensation that never leaves Jongho alone, one he will think about for hours if not days after this. Mingi cries out for help and support but pushes it away at the same time. Desires help but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

“Mingi,” Jongho exhales as he brings his hand down on the man’s shoulder blades again. Mingi jolts at the touch, hand drawing up but not coming down on Jongho. He prepares himself for a hit and everything, but it never comes. Instead, Mingi brings his closed fist down on his own head, smacks his skull with too much force, an expression of pure anguish on his features. He’s fighting it. Jongho knows that Mingi’s mind is screaming for blood. To close his hands around Jongho’s throat and try to end it. The desire to kill… it’s not Mingi, but rather the Brute of Kebos. The monster his father created. It’s not Mingi. Jongho has to remind himself of that over and over again. It’s the only way he can look Mingi in the eye every day. His tone softens as he speaks. “They’re loud, aren’t they?”

“So loud. S-So loud. Can’t think. C-Cant–” Mingi cuts himself off, unable to finish the thought. Yunho once told Jongho that Mingi didn’t feel emotions. Just didn’t have the proper mind for it, and that he would have to be taught how to handle things. Jongho dared to tell Yunho to his face that he was wrong. Mingi feels emotions. He has them. It isn’t that his brain is wired the wrong way. It’s that he was never taught how to understand them. Mingi doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings because of that. Jongho can read him like a book, feel the heat radiating off him in waves and know what’s going through his head even if he blocks it out. Mingi’s emotions are overwhelming, even with Jongho’s resilience and restraint. All that to say – the pain Mingi is in now is enough to cripple Jongho and bring him fully to the ground. The aura is overwhelming, and for a breath of a moment, Jongho isn’t sure he can do what he’s supposed to do. The face of his mother taunts him at the edge of the room. He responds by closing his fingers around Mingi’s wrist, stopping the hallucination from blossoming as well as stopping Mingi from hitting himself any more.

“It’s okay, Mingi. They can’t hurt you here,” Jongho murmurs even though he knows that isn’t the brunt of the issue. Mingi’s wrist goes slack in his grip. For a second, Jongho thinks that the episode has passed, but then weight slams against him, and pain blooms in his chest. He falls back against one of the metal tables. Metal scrapes against metal, creating a loud and abrasive screech, then the floor disappears out from under Jongho. He doesn’t have time to defend himself. Mingi’s fingers close around his ankle, yanking back harshly until Jongho hits the floor. Pressure hits his chest. Jongho doesn’t even process it at first. Mingi’s knee stabs into his chest and pins him to the floor with little effort. However, Jongho is stronger than Mingi. They both know it. Jongho could flip their positions and have Mingi facedown on the floor in seconds. That isn’t what this is about though.

Progress.

“Mingi!”

Steps forward.

“Stop!”

Steps backward.

Yunho and Hongjoong are shouting, voices getting louder as they move closer, but Jongho manages to bring a hand up to stop them. They have zero reason to listen to him and no incentive either, especially because Mingi has one knee square in the middle of Jongho’s chest, the other pinning his right arm down, and both hands wrapped tight around Jongho’s throat. Perhaps he should be scared of what might happen next. Afraid that Mingi tightens his grip and chokes him to death. Both Yunho and Hongjoong are exuding so much fear and panic that it clogs Jongho’s senses, and if it’s affecting him that badly, then that means that Mingi is having a much worse time with it.

Yet despite having his life dangled before his eyes like this, Jongho isn’t afraid that Mingi might kill him. Maybe he’s psychotic for that, or perhaps he just trusts the fact that Mingi doesn’t want to do this that much. Yes, it has to be the latter. He lets Mingi keep him pinned to the floor, hand still raised in Hongjoong and Yunho’s direction and keeping them warded off for the time being. Mingi’s nails dig into the flesh of his throat.

Pain.

Pain, but not from the small crescents Mingi leaves in his neck.

The pain radiates off Mingi’s shoulders. He’s fighting himself so hard, fighting the instinct to kill, the urge to kill, the need to kill. He’s fighting the other part of himself, the one his father forged in blood and dark arenas. Mingi doesn’t know that he’s feeling pain necessarily; he merely knows that he’s hurting. He knows the strain hurts and burns, makes his skin crawl and itch, makes even breathing become a laborious task. Jongho lets his free hand move towards Mingi – each inch breached is slow and calculated as not to scare the man – and lays it atop the ones clasped over his throat.

“You can’t hurt me, Mingi,” he whispers. Mingi’s resolve flickers. For the briefest moment, he believes Jongho, eyes trailing over his own hands like they don’t belong to him.

“It… it hurts.”

“I know it does. Everything hurts, right? They’re loud in your head, telling you to kill.”

“Blood. They w-want blood.” Mingi’s fingers twitch around his neck. His nails dig a bit deeper, and Jongho feels them breach skin. It isn’t deep enough to draw blood, which is for the best because the second the first drop falls, Mingi will fly into a rampage.

“You don’t have to give it to them, Mingi.”

“They’ll hurt me if I don’t.”

“You’ll hurt me if you do.”

Mingi freezes at his words. His hands loosen a bit but don’t move away from Jongho’s body. It’s the last thing he wants, because as cruel and heartless and merciless as Mingi is, he doesn’t want to hurt Jongho. Doesn’t want to hurt Hongjoong or Yunho. Any of the crew. He wants to protect them; he just doesn’t understand how to do that because of the war that goes on in his mind.

“I… did I not already hurt you?” Mingi inquires, gaze curious as he tilts his head to the side. “Your emotions… they – they feel – I hurt you.”

“You didn’t. Tell me what you feel.”

“I don’t know what I feel!” Mingi argues, a spike of anger shooting out towards Jongho. He can barely choke out his next words thanks to the sudden clench of Mingi’s fingers around his throat.

“What I feel. M-Mingi, tell me – tell me what you feel from me.” He’s pushing hard, and perhaps it’s too much of a burden to put on Mingi’s shoulders like this, but at the same time, it’s not enough. Mingi is caught off-guard long enough for Jongho to gasp several deep breaths of air.

“You’re… warm.”

“Does it hurt?” This is the only way Jongho knows how to communicate with Mingi. He can’t name the emotions off one by one because Mingi wouldn’t understand what any of it means, but he does know how to talk about how he’s feeling without naming anything directly.

“N-No.”

“So, are you hurting me?”

Mingi shakes his head ever so slightly. Denial. This time, he believes it for more than a second. Mingi withdraws his hands from Jongho’s neck, letting him fully breathe again, and Jongho rolls out from under the taller Berserker before he can be pinned once more. He doesn’t move because he fears having his life in Mingi’s hands. He would gladly give his life over to the man time and time again if it meant protecting the others from harm. The storm that swirls in Mingi’s dark red eyes calms for the time being. The waters are peaceful. The voices are quiet. And Mingi… Mingi cries. Not for the first time, and not for the last, but he cries nonetheless, hands trembling as he holds them close to his chest. Behind them, the panic and fear radiating off Hongjoong and Yunho slowly dissipates. It grows calm again.

Jongho draws closer to Mingi, kneeling beside him and pressing a hand again Mingi’s shaking ones. It doesn’t stop the trembling or offer any comfort in the slightest. Jongho doesn’t expect it to. Mingi doesn’t understand comfort, only the need for it. But they’ll just keep trying until they find something that works. Like what Hongjoong does next. The short captain walks towards where Jongho and Mingi are and squats down in front of ashy-haired Berserker.

“You pulled yourself out of it, Mingi,” he says, tone quiet but clear. It carries weight with it, one that Mingi picks up on within an instant.

“I al-almost–”

“But you didn’t. You didn’t kill anyone. Didn’t hurt anyone.” A smile twitches across Hongjoong’s lips, soft and gentle as he gazes down at Mingi’s slumped form. “I’m proud of you.”

The simple four words hold more than should be humanly possible, but Jongho supposes that it makes sense since he and Mingi aren’t wholly human. Mingi’s tears halt only long enough for him to offer an awkward yet grateful smile. Hongjoong eats it right up. He reaches across the gap between him and Mingi, not concerned for a second that Mingi could snap his arm in half at the slightest trigger, and drops his hand to the mop of hair atop his head. A small ruffle of the locks, fingers gently combing over Mingi’s scalp, then pulling away. Jongho wants to imagine that Mingi leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut as an overwhelming sense of peace washed over his body.

✧✧✧ a/n: surprise?? this is definitely one that was unexpected for me but i was struck with a sudden realization and plan for mingi’s character progression and how he functions as a character, and this idea wouldn’t leave me alone so i just had to write it and post it today because we’ve got regular chapter tomorrow osidjafoidj but i hope you guys like it!! i think this is the most important interim chapter and has a lot of impact on mingi’s character in the main plot sooo yee lemme know what you think!

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[vexel-of-sunbloom]

Hello ID: Invaded fandom

Hello! I’m Evermor and I recently watched ID: Invaded and I really enjoyed it. The way I show my love for things I enjoy is by making aus, so, I’m going to explain my au Separated Gemini.

In this au Akihito has an older twin brother named Katsuhito Sakaido, they are identical twins, but, nobody remembers Katsuhito, if you asked anyone who should know him, they’ll look at you like you’re crazy, and that’s because Katsuhito was written out of the universe, He was around 19 when he was written out of the universe, it’s been, roughly 18 years since then. Just so you know, the actual people who are responsible for the universe and writing people in or out actually weren’t the people who wrote out Katsuhito, he was always supposed to be there.

In what is the first episode, Katsuhito wakes up in the brilliant detective’s body too, although in pieces. He can tell an amnesiac Akihito is there, but, Akihito, or I guess the brilliant detective Sakaido doesn’t know Katsuhito is there. Katsuhito takes a backseat despite being a better detective than his twin, because he could tell they were being monitored and they could probably tell a sudden change in attitude, and he’d rather not deal with that.

Here’s a little thing, every person has a soul, kinda like the ones in soul eater but nobody is aware of them, it’s an essential part of who they are, however, identical twins share one soul, when Katsuhito was written out, Akihito and his soul was spilt in two, this caused a lot of problems for Akihito, it made him very unstable, emotionally and mentally. Here’s the thing, if Katsuhito was completely written out, the soul would solely belong to Akihito, thus making him emotionally and mentally stable. Someone needed Akihito to be unstable, the person who wrote out Katsuhito is human actually, and it was non other than John walker. When Akihito finished the case, Akihito mentioned that for the first time in a long time, he felt complete, and he doesn’t know why, well the reason is obvious enough but, it’s because his soul was finally complete for the first time in 18 years, because his twin was with him. One more, even if Akihito doesn’t remember Katsuhito, he still feels incomplete when he’s not the brilliant detective Sakaido, because Katsuhito was just written out of the universe enough for their soul to split in half, so he can still feel him in a way, so this dull ache is in his heart and he doesn’t know why.

That’s basically it, it’s not fully fleshed out and it’s not complete but I’m really happy with it, if you have any questions please just ask, but please be nice.

[novelconcepts]

(1/4)In one of your tags from the gifsets when Jamie walks into the kitchen and Dani first saw her! I just realized how oblivious until now with that narrative “how the au pair felt when she first saw the young woman” I was even oblivious with the way they look at each other. This is a romantic set up! To be honest, at first I thought they would not get along at first, and will come to parts where they’d start a fight one way or another.

(2/4)And then the part where Jamie asks Owen if he thinks Dani is pretty, the way Owen blushes I swear I thought that Owen and Dani were gonna be a couple!! Thanks goodness Owen answers he’s only got eyes for Hannah!! I mean, I started this show with a blank page without knowing if there’s any lgbtq character (I was hoping since we got Theo from HH)

(3/4)This says so much how we often, in media, being disappointed, being called too much as we read between the chemistry of any interaction of two same sex characters! And here’s in Bly, they set us up with that romantic first not-encounter encounter and we had to step back to see if this is intentional or we’re being reading too much again!

(4/4)And then nine episodes later, we got the most heart wrenching true love story of two women! Masterchef kisses!!! Thank you show! I was starting to root for Dani x Jamie interaction after their 1:1 with Jamie tries to calm Dani. What about you, what moment from the show that got you root for them?

So, here's the thing about me: I will always, always ship the ladies together in a show. And, like you said, I’m very accustomed to being let down when showrunners decide that in order for character to be queer, it has to be saying something. Like, they have an allotment of queerness they have to dole out. And to have a story coming in on the heels of a really successful show where we did have a queer character--and a really well fleshed-out one who never felt like she was gay for gay’s sake, but still, a character in the ensemble rather than The Lead--I felt like...in most other shows, that would have qualified as the “allotment”, as it were. “We already gave you Theo, what more could you ask for?”

So Dani turns up in this show and I think, “Okay, she’s a delightful Midwestern 80s girl with some real trials on her shoulders, she clearly lost someone, let’s see where this goes.” And I honestly didn’t think she was going to be anything onscreen, in terms of romantic story. I sort of assumed that if she had lost someone, the crux of her story was going to be about coping with that loss and moving on. Even when they introduced Owen, I didn’t think, “Oh, okay, here’s the romantic co-lead of the story”; they did a really excellent job of having both parties perform that car ride with platonic care. Like, we have the potential to get along really well, we’re likely going to bond, but there were no long camera shots of one watching the other, no sense that he was going to have interest in her or vice versa. They felt like instant friends. So, I thought, “Okay, cool, she could use some friends, she’s probably still going to just have this arc of coming to terms with losing this person.”

And I didn’t know who she’d lost yet, so I did think it could have been anyone. Brother. Father. Friend. I wasn't sure it would matter, I just figured that was going to be the focus.

And then Jamie walks in. And in retrospect, you’re right: this setup for romance was instant. The introduction, the narrator’s line, the way Dani looks up, the quick glance Jamie gives her before promptly pretending not to notice, all of these are textbook filmmaking tricks to Introduce The Love Interest. And Jamie, naturally, is styled like a classic lesbian in every way, so I thought, “Huh. That’s interesting. But they already gave us Theo last time, so...”

Which is deeply unfair. It’s unfair to the creative team, it’s unfair to the story, it’s unfair to me as a viewer, to have that knee-jerk assumption on my shoulders. And I like to think that Bly surprising me as it did will help me not make that I’ve been burned assumption in the future, because...we really have come a long way. But even so, on this first watch, I thought, “That’s interesting. I could ship it. But I don’t think that's the story they’re going to tell”, because I didn’t yet trust the creative team to prioritize queer relationships on the same level as straight ones. 

Things continue, and we get all the little clues that, in retrospect, are huge: Jamie thinks Dani is “too pretty” and quite frankly can’t shut up about her. Dani physically brightens when Jamie’s in the room. Jamie reassures Dani that she’s doing well, and does so with the gentlest nudge at flirtation, and Dani swivels her whole body to follow Jamie as she leaves, making sure to catch every last glimpse she can before Jamie disappears into the house. And we’re getting these clues from other characters, too, in the way the kids exchange that look when Jamie’s first introduced, in the way Owen constantly looks to Hannah with every indication that he’s not kidding in the least when he says he only has eyes for her. But I still wasn’t...sure I could trust it. 

Which is silly. Because there is nothing, not a single thing, that is subtle about this love story. The music cues, the camera work, the angling of the actresses toward one another in every scene they share. The way Pedretti makes certain Dani looks the easiest in her body and in her smile when it’s Jamie making her laugh. It’s so intentional all the way down, like the entire team was saying, “Here. This is important. This is valuable. And we absolutely refuse to let anyone watch this show and say, oh, we didn’t feel it. It came out of nowhere. Couldn’t they just have been friends?” 

Episode 3 went a long way to hammering it home, of course. Between the conversation on the couch about love and possession, where the silence between them stretches on with a sort of comfortable heat, and the way Dani looks at her--and the camera looks at her--when Jamie is asleep on the couch, and that final moment with the hand grab, I realized they were really going for this thing. And obviously by Episode 4, you’re supposed to know what’s up. The gloves are off, the story is fully tilted in this direction, and I think it was around this point that I started to realize who the narrator probably was. Originally, I think I thought she’d be a very grown up Flora; once I realized Jamie was in fact the Romantic Lead of the piece, I went, “Oh. Ohhhh. Oh shit.”

The moral of the story here is, I trust this team now. I trust them to prioritize queer love with just as much “this is normal, guys, get over it” care as straight relationships. And, frankly, it makes me re-evaluate my opinion of the sexuality tackled in Hill House. The first few times I watched that show, I thought, “God, it’s nice that they gave us Theo. She’s flawed, she’s human, she’s funny, and her being gay is non-negotiable.” Now? Now I watch it and think all of that while also thinking, “You know what? Luke could be queer. His response to Joey all the way through really reads more like a friend who wants to help, with nervous confusion in the event that she nudges too close.” And especially after that interview where Victoria Pedretti said she always assumed Nell was queer, and that her ending up with a man didn’t negate that, it just wasn’t really relevant to parse it all out onscreen, I thought, “You know what? She’s right. There is absolutely nothing stopping that from being true.” And that’s how I’ve approached all media since I was a teenager, fair, but the difference is it feels...like these shows agree. That this is why they didn’t announce the LGBT rep ahead of time. That it’s not gonna be “gay for gay’s sake”, that it’s not going to be for drama or to cause a ruckus, but that these stories say, “Hey. This is a real thing. Love looks like this, too. Here: watch this beautiful, poignant, heartbreaking story of two women who love each other more than anything in the world. Watch it, and understand that they are so normal, and that them being gay changes nothing about how they live out their story together.” And I love that. 

[thran-duils]

You’re Now Mine (P.15)

Title: You’re Now Mine (Part 15) Summary:  Fulfilling a request for @lets-personofinterestontumbir! – “Could you do a drabble for the Persephone AU I don’t know If you’ve seen once upon a time but the episode 1x07 reminded me a lot of this story when the evil queen ripped out the huntsmen’s heart if you could do something like that it would be awesome. Thank you.” Words: 1,826 Warnings: DARK AF, Emotional/Mental abuse, smut

Chap 14 || Chap 16 || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Tucking the blanket underneath your feet further, your eyes scoured the tree-line. You had seen some deer earlier and were hoping to see them again. After they had left, you had scattered some oats along where they had been in the act of attracting them back. It was chilly outside, still being an early spring morning as it was, but you were comfortable enough on the deck with your warm cup of tea.

Lucifer had been gone for almost a day at this point, leaving you behind here. You were all alone, truly.

Biting your bottom lip harshly, you tried to hold back the tears that were brimming as you saw Sam and Dean die again, flashing before your eyes. You hated Lucifer for doing what he had done, no matter what reasoning he had had. He had not been sure about it but still sacrificed them all the same. You knew he despised them but never thought he would be that cruel.

The air shifted from behind you and you whipped around quickly, spilling some of your tea. At the sight of him, you almost dropped the cup completely in your shock.

“C-Chuck?” you sputtered.

His hands tucked into his coat pockets, he shrugged sheepishly. “Yeah, In the flesh.”

You placed your cup down and stood, tossing the blanket over your shoulders to keep yourself warm. “How did you get in here?” Chuck’s brows furrowed and you explained, “Lucifer said… he said he locked me away in here.”

“He did,” Chuck confirmed calmly.

It was your turn to look confused; how was he sure of that? He took a step closer to you and you instinctively took one back, an ominous feeling slowly welling at the fact he was here. Was it truly even him or was Lucifer playing games again? And why would he choose Chuck out of all people?

Chuck – if it was even him – smirked slightly noticing your movement back from him. He stopped and held his hands up in a friendly manner. “No need to be scared of me, Y/N. I’m here to help.”

“Help with what?”

“Amara. My sister.”

His sister?

“I’ve stayed out of the picture for too long. Left you all to defend yourselves when I should have been here assisting. It is my mess and I need to fix it. I was the one who locked her away in the first place.”

Hesitantly, you asked, deciding to play along, “What do you mean? What can a prophet be doing in this situation? No offense.”

Chuck’s smirk grew into a smile. His eyes fell away from you to the empty garden pot near him. He walked to it, reaching out over the bare dirt. Beneath his hand, flowers boomed.

Your eyes widened in shock and you had had enough. “Lucifer!” you rasped, tearfully. “I’m not in the mood for mind games! Please, just stop.”

“I am more than a prophet,” Chuck continued, ignoring your request. He faced you, telling you sincerely, “I’m God.”

Shaking your head, you said, “That… that’s not true.”

“It is. Lucifer was right. I should have come sooner, not driven him to such ends to try to get my attention. I did hurt his feelings by showing up now, but I am here nonetheless. And I have struck a deal with him to get him to agree to work with me – again – on putting Amara back where she belongs.” Chuck clicked his tongue and added, “Plus, I need Sam and Dean to come back to help us. They’re always a key in these fights.”

Your mouth fell open in shock and you stammered, “C-come back? You’re going to…?”

“Of course. I couldn’t let them die like that,” Chuck returned. “I created them to withstand battles like this one.”

The question of Castiel almost fell from your lips but you bit it back. You were still unsure whether or not this was actually Chuck or Lucifer. If you asked about Castiel, you knew that would infuriate Lucifer.

How you hated not being able to tell the truth from an untruth. Lucifer had made sure of that.

Sighing loudly, Chuck looked out over the yard. “It’ll be beautiful here when the flowers fully bloom, Y/N. You have a good spot.”

Why did you feel something was about to happen?

His gaze fell back on you, and he smiled softly. “It’s been good knowing you the way you’ve been over the encounters we’ve had before this, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?”

Chuck merely cocked his head, that smile still on his lips.

<> <> <>

Everything was fuzzy. Your vision, your thoughts. Rubbing at your eyes with your blanket, it tightened around your shoulders.

Blinking, your vision focused on the person in front of you. “Chuck? What? How did I get out here?”

Chuck smiled at you, slow and simple. “Yes, Y/N. Just checking in to make sure my son is taking good care of you. And I found you out here, taking a nap. I’m sorry I startled you.”

“I…” you trailed off, trying to remember when you had come out here. Looking around, you were still at home. It was spring… why could you not remember? You noticed someone else standing by the sliding glass door back into the house. A dark haired, handsome man. His hands were in his slacks pockets, watching the two of you intently.

Chuck followed your stare and assured you, “Oh, that’s one of my angels. Don’t worry about him, just accompanying me.”

You tore your gaze away from the man and directed at Chuck, “Has… has something happened to Lucifer? Has he done something?”

Chuck shook his head, smiling still. “No, Lucifer is fine. You’re fine. You’re still safe here. Just like he promised for this last millennia.”

Your shoulders relaxed hearing his soothing words. You had worried for a moment that something terrible had befallen Lucifer. You knew little of what went on outside your home, so you had a lot of opportunity to wonder what dangers lay out there for him when he was away.

Chuck held out his hand to you, beckoning you. “You should go inside. Get something to eat. Lucifer will be back soon. I promise.”

Following his lead, the two of you made your way back towards the door. The other angel stepped out of the way, allowing you two to pass by. His aquamarine eyes were piercing, watching you intently.

Curious, you thought to yourself but paid no more mind.

<> <> <>

Dean and Sam blinked in astonishment around the bunker. They were sitting at the entrance table, far from where they had been. They both remembered what had happened, Lucifer standing in front of them, smiling wickedly. Y/N had been begging him to spare them and he had not heeded her pleas. The immense pain as he twisted their insides… then darkness.

How were they back home? Was this heaven?

They locked eyes. “What…” Sam muttered, knowing damn well Dean did not have an explanation but asked nonetheless.

“Back in one piece then,” a voice sounded from the other end of the table.

Their attention snapped towards it and they stared in shock at Chuck Shurley sitting at the end of the table. And Lucifer.

Dean’s face hardened immediately. He began to stand up from the table, “You sonofabitch—”

He was slammed back into his chair by a wave of Chuck’s hand. “We don’t have time for revenge right now, Dean.”

“Dean is hostile! Wow, what a surprise!” Lucifer said, trying to push Dean and Sam’s buttons. It was working too.

Chuck said firmly in warning, “Lucifer.” Lucifer shut his mouth and settled back into his chair, staring down the length of the table at the boys.

Sam narrowed his eyes in curiosity at the exchange, wondering why Lucifer backed off so easily. Staring hard between Chuck and Lucifer, he sized them up for a few moments before realization dawned on his face. “You… no…” he trailed off, in shock.

Halfheartedly, Chuck waved his hands. “Surprise.”

“You’re God?” Sam blurted.

“What?” Dean demanded, looking wildly between Sam and Chuck.

“This whole time?” Sam asked harshly.

“No, actually. He was a prophet and God decided that he should take the reins—”

“Lucifer,” Chuck warned again, and Lucifer shut his mouth.

Sam shook his head and said more to himself than anything, “This whole time.”

Dean leveled Chuck with a glare. “And you just sat back this whole damn time?”

Instead of arguing, Chuck said, “I had other pressing things to attend to.”

“Then the whole damn world being threatened by the Darkness? What else could have possibly been occupying your precious time?”

“A lot of things I don’t want to discuss with you, Dean,” Chuck returned, an ice to his tone. Dean caught it, realizing he was pressing God. He leaned back, his gaze moving between Lucifer and Chuck. Straightening out his jacket, Chuck said, “What matters is I am here now, and we have to figure out how to get Amara back in her imprisonment.”

That lit a fire underneath Dean again. “We?” He demanded, his finger circling around the table but his gaze was pointed at Lucifer, hatred burning in his eyes. He growled, “Hell fucking no, You killed us!”

“And?” Lucifer drawled.

“And?” Dean snarled, incredulously.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Lucifer pointed out. “My plan worked. You’re welcome.”

Pissed, Dean shook his head. “Nice friggen plan, Lucifer. You traumatized Y/N and killed us! What a bang-up job!”

At her mention, Sam asked before Lucifer could retort anything, “Where is Y/N? Is she still in hell? She should be here.”

“She’s not your concern anymore,” Lucifer said, feigning lightheartedness. “And she’s not Cassie’s either.”

Dean snarled, “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“How can I be any clearer, Dean-o?” Lucifer taunted.

“Let it go,” Chuck advised the boys.

“Let it go? She’s family!” Dean barked at him before pointing at Lucifer threateningly. “And you’ve been torturing her for months!”

“She’s not your family anymore!” Lucifer snapped in return, his cool demeanor gone, bristled by Dean’s accusation.

“This is not important enough to bicker over right now!” Chuck shouted, losing his temper. The table fell silent at his outburst instantaneously. “Yes, Lucifer was reckless and should not have done what he did. But that’s because he felt he had to force my hand and that’s my fault. Y/N’s fine, you’re fine. What is not fine is Amara is running loose wanting to destroy the planet.”

No one said anything in response to him, sitting in tense silence.

Chuck inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. Clearing his throat, he said, “We need a plan. And we need more help. Specifically, from hell and from a witch.”

Lucifer chuckled at this, leaning back in his chair. “Ah… Crowley and Rowena. Of course. My favorites.” He flicked his gaze to Sam and Dean, smirking. “The ol’ team is back together again, eh?”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas @stixnstripesworld

Tags I missed who requested to be tagged or showed interest (for this one time just so I don’t bother people who are not interested anymore. If you want to be tagged again, just leave a comment on the post or PM me!): @itsmeempar, @vvipgot7be, @roonyxx, @littlesupernaturalwords

[ad1thi]

no place like home | AU-gust Day 7: Childhood Friends AU

AU-gust masterlist

“We were childhood friends but since you moved, we haven’t been in contact in years. And my family keeps bugging me about dating, so I lied and said I was in a relationship with you. But all of a sudden you come back to visit and I don’t know how to tell you, that everyone thinks we’re dating.” AU (x)

for @iam93percentstardust, this is compliant to s2.12 Profiler, Profiled. so please watch out for the content of this episode. 

//

Derek Morgan would like it to be noted, penned down in ink, carved into stone, that he loves his family. It's important that there's a record of a point of his life when he adored his sisters, because right now, all he feels is annoyance and rage, and is weirdly sympathising with the UnSub they're investigating, a man who kills younger sisters.

 "Desiree," he says for what feels like the tenth time, "I'm fine. I'm happy. I don't need to meet your friend Savannah. Matter of fact, I don't need to meet anyone, because I'm not on the market for anyone. Why can't you trust me when I'm telling you I'm happy?"

"Derek," Desiree's voice seems significantly more whiney over the phone, "You forget that I know you. That job of yours is killing you, and I just want you to be happy. Why are you against meeting her? I'm not asking you to knock her up, just meet her for dinner."

 Her voice takes a suspicious tone, "Are you seeing someone Derek Morgan? Is that why you're so against this?"

Derek opens his mouth to explain that no, he isn't seeing anyone, he's just content with his life as it is right now, but a commotion in the bullpen distracts him. He looks over to see Hotch opening the door to someone, must be the new recruits. He squints, trying to get a feel for the flesh blood, and what comes out is, "Spencer?"

In his ear, Desiree squeals, and he remembers with rapidly growing horror that his sister is still on the phone. "You're getting Spencer?" her voice gets progressively higher pitched, "I had no idea you guys reconnected! When did that happen?"

Derek means to explain, but he's so tired of trying to convince his sisters that he's better off single - which is how he ends up coming up with his half-cocked story about how he met Spence in D.C a couple months and they'd been seeing each other. He keeps the details purposely vague because his mind is wrapping itself around the fact that tiny Spencer Reid is in his office at Quantico.

 (and that he's no longer tiny anymore)

 "I always thought you guys would end up together," Desiree says speculatively, "but then Spence moved to Nevada. Did you know that Ma and Mrs Reid had bets about when you guys were going to get your heads out of your asses. Oh, she's going to be so happy that you guys reconnected."

"No!" Derek says loudly, causing Elle and Gideon and look up, "Desiree, listen to me very carefully - you cannot tell Ma." Lying to his sister was one thing, Derek was not about to lie to his Ma.

 "Why not?" Desiree asks plaintively, "she'll be so happy about this Derek you know it. Plus, she already knows Spencer, so it's not going to be a huge shock for her."

"I just," Derek fumbles for words, "I want to be the one to tell her okay? And I want to do it proper, bring him back to Chicago, the whole nine yards. This isn't something that I want to do over the phone. Can you respect that?"

"Okay," Desiree huffs, "but you owe me."

 The knot inside his stomach loosens. In the bullpen, Hotch is waving him over, "Desiree I have to go, I think there's been an update in our case. I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Okay, but I expect details!" she says, but he's already stepping outside Gideon's office and climbing down the stairs.

 "Hey," he says when he gets closer, tapping Gideon's shoulder, "Thanks for letting me use your office. My sister does not like to be ignored. I appreciate it man."

"Not a problem," Gideon gestures for Spencer to come over, and Derek notices the minute Spencer recognises him, "Derek Morgan this is -"

" - Spencer Reid," Derek finishes, unsure of whether he could open his arms for a hug or settle for a single handshake, "As I live and breathe."

 "Actually," Spencer ducks his head, "It's Doctor Spencer Reid now. I got my PhDs a couple years back. Derek Morgan? As in..?" he trails off, and its soothing that Spencer is just as unsure of how to approach this as he feels.

Gideon gestures between them, "Do you guys know each other?"

Derek decides to take the first step, and throws his hand around Spencer's shoulder, the way he used to when they were kids, "We grew up together. I've known Spencer since he was a kid in diapers."

 "I thought you were from Nevada," Elle pipes up from next to them, and Spencer answers, "We moved when I was 15. But I was from Chicago before that."

He looks up at Derek with warm fondness, "Derek was there when I graduated from highschool. He was there for most of it."

 "Hell, yeah I was. So, PhDs huh? Plural? Wanna tell me about that?" Derek asks, but before the conversation can go anywhere, Hotch interrupts them. "I hate to break this up, but we've got an update on the case."

 The shift in the group is remarkable, even amongst the newest members. Derek shifts everything out of his mind, including his conversation with Desiree.

 Looking back, that was probably where the trouble started.

 /

 Holding cells are not unfamiliar territory for Derek. He's been inside more than he can count, all over the country. They're all the same, four drab walls and a window or two shackled with bars, and a one-way mirror so that you can look at yourself. Ostensibly, it's so that interrogations can be witnessed by other officers, but Derek thinks they have a more important purpose - they force the perp to face themselves, to look themselves in the eyes with the knowledge of what they've done.

 He's seen hundreds of holding cells. He's just never been the person they're trying to keep in a holding cell.

 (Actually, that’s a lie, but Derek lies to forget that part of his life. There's nothing about that period of his life worth remembering)

 "Derek Morgan," the doors open to reveal Gordinski, and Derek fights the urge to introduce Gordinski's face to his fist. What was the man thinking, arresting him outside his Ma's place? How was he going to explain this to her?

 "Did you get any sleep?" he asks, carrying a beefy file with him. "Slept like a baby, myself. Didn't even want to get out of bed."

"Really?" Derek cocks an eyebrow, "So that wasn't your donut-eating ass on the other side of the glass all night?"

Gordinski ignores him, which is expected, because he's a shit cop, and barrels on with the witch-hunt that he's concocted in his head.

 "Whose grave is this?" he asks, shoving a photo in front of Derek's face.

"Have you been following me?"

Gordinski presses like he hasn't heard Derek, "Whose?"

"I don't know his name," it was the truth. Nobody had known the kid's name. But Derek had looked down at his still body and seen his own face staring back - and it never sat right with him.

"But you led the collection," Gordinski switches out the photo for more of him at the grave, "And you visit him a lot."

"Everytime I come home," Derek isn't ashamed of that, but he has no idea where Gordinski's going with this, "What, you got a crush on me all of a sudden?"

 Gordinski's face twitches, and mentally Derek tallies it. Derek:1, Gordinski: 0, he thinks to himself, but is careful to keep his face blank. There's no need to give Gordinski more ammo than he already has.

 There's a new photo in front of him, and Derek's brow furrows, "Okay that's me at the youth centre, tossing a ball around with a couple of kids."

"You did a little more than that," Gordinski's alluding to something, but for the life of him, Derek can't figure out what, "This is about you giving one of them a ride home, one of the boys."

 Terror creeps into Derek, surely? - "Yeah I did. This kid named, um, Damien. His place was on the way to my mother's."

Gordinski puts down a final photo in front of him, and when Derek sees what it is, he thinks that there should be some sort of law against Gordinski being this smug about a crime scene photo. "Damien Walters," he jabs at the photo, "D O A."

 Oh fuck.

 "Fuck," Derek says out-loud, "someone killed him."

"Not somebody Derek," and with sudden clarity, Derek understands what Gordinski's getting at. "You think I did this?"

Gordinski opens his mouth to reply, probably to read him his rights, but there's a knock on the door - and he excuses himself, radiating smugness.

 "Fuck," Derek says again, out into the empty cell, listening to it echo against the walls.

 /

 The door swings open again, and Derek stands up, fully expecting it to be Hotch. When Spencer steps in however, he loses all of his steam, sagging back down against the desk.

 "Spence," he says in a long huff, "What're you doing here? I thought they weren't letting anyone see me?"

"They weren't," Spencer confirms, "but Hotch and Gideon are busy, and I can be convincing. Occasionally. I think I might've talked so much that Gordinski let me in just so that I would stop talking, but it worked right?"

 "Yeah it did," he says with relief, and moves to hug Spencer before the metal around his wrists dig into his skin, "It's good to see you man. How's everything going on out there?"

Spencer's face turns solemn, "It's not great. You were right, Gordinski is convinced that you did this, and he won't listen to any of us when we say you didn't. I really missed out on some crazy years huh?"

"Yeah you did," he chuckles despite the situation he's in, and reaches out to grasp at Spencer's fingers, "Gordinski's had it in for me for ages. It's a good thing you left before that shitstorm hit me."

 "Yeah Desiree filled me in when I went to see your family earlier," Spencer's face turns sly, "Speaking of, when were you going to tell me that we were dating?"

Derek's eyes widen. Fuck, that conversation felt like it was an age away. "I'm not saying I'm against it," Spencer continues, "but I do like to be consulted about this stuff."

 "Oh you do Pretty boy?" Derek says, just to watch his cheeks heat, "I'm sorry man. It completely slipped my mind, what with the murder charge I'm facing and all."

"I know what you're doing," Spencer hums, "but I'm not letting you off that easy. Desiree thinks that we've been dating for close to a year. Says you talk about me all the time. Somehow, I feel like I would've noticed if I was sleeping with the Derek Morgan for a year, but it never came up."

Derek ignores the twitch in his pants at the thought of sleeping with Spencer, and instead says, "Your observational skills clearly need work pretty boy," he jangles the cuffs, "I'll help you out once I'm out of these."

 Spencer huffs, but lets the subject be, "Are you sure you don't know who's got it out for you Derek? I'm not saying that Gordinski is right, but you have to admit - it's a hell of a coincidence that bodies drop every single time you're in town. It's almost a statistical impossibility. The only logical explanation is that someone's setting you up."

 Carl Buford, Derek thinks instantly, almost unbidden. He dismisses the thought almost instantly though, even though it ruminates in his mind. "Rodney Harris, he's a local gangbanger in town. He's had it out for me ever since we were kids. It’s gotta be him Spence."

 "I think Hotch is running down some leads now," Spencer says with a nod, "I'll tell the team though. Get all of us on it. Are you sure there's nobody else Derek?"

Carl Buford, he thinks again, but he shakes his head. He's not ready for the team to know that about him yet. He's not ready for anybody to know that about him yet, least of all Spencer.

 He knows that Spencer has sense he's lying, but thankfully, he drops it.  He's almost at the door when Spencer turns back to him and says, "I didn't hate it. Being your boyfriend. Wished you'd actually asked me, but - I didn't hate it."

 He's out of the holding cell before Derek can formulate a response.

 /

 Despite his loud, emphatic protests otherwise, all roads lead back to Carl Buford. Derek is still smarting about the fact that Hotch dug into his past, when he specifically told him to leave it the fuck alone, but he takes small comfort in the fact that the rest of the team seems any the wiser.

 He can't escape his Ma and sisters though, and there's a lot of tears and hugs in the Morgan household that night.

 "I never knew," his Ma says desperately, cheeks wet, "you have to believe me Derek. I never knew what he was capable of. I wouldn't have pushed you to reconnect with him if I'd known."

"I know Ma," he soothes, and brings the her palm to his lips to press a dry kiss to the back of it, " 'Course I know that."

"Were there others?" Desiree asks bravely, even though Ma turns to her with a sharp look, "Did he have, others?"

 "I don't know," Derek says honestly. "I'm sure he did. Abusers," his voice cracks over the word abuser, but he pushes ahead, "generally have multiple victims. It's why I made it a point to keep up with kids like James, just in case he ever did something - I wanted them to think they had someone to tell."

 "Shit load of good it did, since Buford still fucked him up anyway. But at least now," he takes a steading breath, "At least now he's behind bars. James has still got time. Time to get over it, to make a new life for himself. I just hope it's enough." His Ma starts crying again then, collapsing in his arms, and Derek just holds up. He feels Desiree wraps her arms around his neck and lean against his back.

 He's loath to leave them the next day, but his leave is up, and JJ got wind of a new case that demands their attention. Still, it's not easy walking out of his Ma's house and onto the plane, especially not with everything that's ever come out.

 There are a few advantages of being back with the BAU though.

 "You didn't hate it huh?" he knocks at Spencer's shoulder, grinning when he blushes, "I believe those were your exact words?"

"I'm the one with the eidetic memory," Spencer replied wryly, "your shtick is muscles. Stop taking my stuff."

"Oh is that how it is?" Derek raises an eyebrow, "I'm not gonna let you skirt past this pretty boy, we're having this conversation. There's nowhere to run anymore."

 Spencer looks around the plane like he's looking for an exit anyway, and Derek softens, "Hey. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. But there's a reason I never came clean with Desiree." He moves to get out of his seat, give Spencer some space, but a hand on his bicep stops him.

 "Did you know," Spencer says, apropos of nothing, "that our mothers had a bet going about whether we were going to get together. She told me during one of her more lucid moments. Said the thing she regretted most about leaving Chicago was separating us."

 "I did," Derek says gamely, "Desiree told me about it when I first told her that we were dating."

"I had the biggest crush on you," Spencer says, admitting it like it's a secret, which - given how long it's been since they were kids in Chicago, Derek supposes it is, "Still do, if I'm being honest."

Derek's heart is pumping so loudly in his chest, he can hear his blood roaring. "As long we're being honest," he says with a lilt, but reaches down and intertwines their fingers.

 Spencer looks down at where their fingers are joined, and back up at him, and Derek knows that he gets it from the way his face splits into a wide smile. Before either of them can say anything though, Derek's phone buzzes, and he fishes it out of his pocket with this free hand.

 >> Hotch: I expect the paperwork on my desk by the end of the week. Congratulations.

 Spencer and Derek look up at Hotch simultaneously, but he's looking down at his book. There's a smile playing on his lips though, and despite himself, Derek smiles too.

 Fin

//

this ficlet exists as a spiritual sequel to this fic

[haberdashing]

No Puppet Strings Can Hold Me Down (17/17)

The Magnus Archives fanfic. An AU that diverges from canon between episodes 159 and 160, in which Peter Lukas’ statement that “he got you” takes on a different meaning.

on AO3

Jon hadn’t seen it coming.

In hindsight, it made sense that he wouldn’t have--if there had been any warning, any way of him knowing what was about to happen, then Jonah would have known of it as well, and the plan would thus have been ruined before it could even begin.

That didn’t make it any easier, though, when Jon woke up in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in his left eye.

It was difficult to see in the dark, and not just because, as Jon quickly realized, his field of vision wasn’t quite what it normally was, his sight on his left side now entirely gone. It took a few seconds for the darkness and silhouettes to coalesce into a clearer image, but once it did, Jon could feel his heart racing.

Martin was standing over him with a knife, a knife that was dripping blood onto the couch below.

The pieces fit together in Jon’s mind quickly enough after that.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the same was true for Jonah as Jon’s body began to move of its own accord, throwing off the blankets that had been on top of him and reaching up for Martin, trying to wrestle the knife away from him.

(Jon was glad, now, that he had was now in such poor physical shape. It would help Martin’s odds in the fight, after all.)

His nails scratched against flesh, his elbows jabbed and blocked Martin’s moves, the sting of his eye was matched by aches across his body, and Jon could do nothing but watch the fight unfold...

Wait.

That wasn’t entirely true, was it? Jon knew one thing he could do, at least, something that had incapacitated Jonah once before...

Jon had spent so long keeping the door in his mind shut, doing everything he could to prevent the Eye from seeping through.

It was all too easy to let it open wide.

(If Martin achieved his goal with the other eye, Jon figured he’d be freed soon enough, and his giving in to the Eye would become a non-issue. If Martin didn’t... well, Jon hadn’t been able to do much anyway, so how much would really be lost in the end?)

The information poured into Jon’s mind, a tidal wave of knowledge that overwhelmed his mind and his senses.

It has been eleven days since Georgie Barker last ate Hungarian food. Less than fifty people have contracted full-blown rabies and lived to tell the tale. The true identity of Dan Cooper, popularly but incorrectly known as D.B. Cooper, was a member of the Fairchild family. Michael Malloy had multiple murder attempts on his life fail in part because his heavy drinking prevented damage from methanol and ethylene glycol poisoning.

Jon felt a stabbing pain in his arm, looked to see that both Martin’s hands and his own were on the knife, struggling to gain control over its trajectory.

This is the fifth time that this couch has been stained by liquid damage and the third time that it has had blood on it. The bacteria that cause staph infections are commonly present on the skin, only causing infection upon entering the interior of the body. Mike Crew’s great-uncle, Jeremiah Crew, died in a flash flood. The singular form of the word data is datum.  

Jon could see the soft gleam of the metal as it approached his face.

Holding your breath before diving underwater can cause drowning by shallow water blackout. Manuela Dominguez is still trapped within Helen’s corridors. Clefairy, not Pikachu, was originally meant to be Pokemon’s mascot. Blind spots are caused by the lack of light-detecting cells in the area where the optic nerve passes through the optic disc. The Admiral is currently-

The rush of information suddenly stopped, and Jon’s senses rose up to fill the void of stimulation--all senses, that is, except for one. Jon’s vision was entirely gone now, leaving him with nothing but a field of darkness and burning pain where his eyes had been.

At least he could hear himself think now, even if it was difficult to keep up a coherent stream of thought when he was in such agony.

And, as Jon focused on his own breathing, which was fast and heavy now, he found that he could control it, slowly but surely calming his breathing down.

There was blood trickling down his face, but Jon didn’t dare try to wipe it away for fear of touching his fresh wounds and making the pain that much worse.

“...Martin?”

A rustle of movement behind him, a few footsteps, then: “Jon? Is that you?”

Jon let out a laugh, shaky and hysterical, not caring that it made his chest ache. “Yes, it’s me. You- you did it.”

Martin hesitated for a moment. “...can you prove it?”

“...probably not.” Another shaky laugh, not quite as boisterous as the first. “I didn’t- we’ve barely talked since I- since the Unknowing, and so much has changed since then. I don’t know if I was human before it, but now... well, now I might be human again, I suppose, but I’m not sure if that helps either. You haven’t known me when I was- was fully human, after all, have you, you’ve only ever known me as the Archivist, and now... now I’m not sure what I am, really...”

“Yeah, alright, good enough. Now just sit still, Jon, I’ve got some towels to help with the bleeding-”

“Wh- that didn’t prove anything! That was the whole point!”

“Nobody can pull off an existential crisis quite like you can, Jon. Especially not Jonah Magnus.” Jon could feel the warm air as Martin let out a soft snort. “Now just- here, does that help?”

Soft fabric was pressed against his face, and pressure pushing it down, pressure that made the pain go from bad to worse at first before it died down.

“It does, yes. Thank you, Martin.”

“Least I could do.” Another huff of warm air. “Seriously, when I- I’m the one who-”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“I’m so sorry, Jon. I didn’t want to hurt you, especially since you couldn’t do anything about it, but it- it seemed like the only way out-”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Jon started to shake his head, stopped with a wince when it made the pain flare up again.

“I said stay still.”

“I get that now...” Jon sighed softly. “But I- I did tell you it was okay, before, when I could. Whatever the price for taking down Jonah Magnus, I knew it’d be worth it. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still, I...” A pause. “...you can’t see my gesturing, can you?”

“Not even slightly. Which is, I believe, rather the point?”

“Right, yeah. I have some supplies, but we should- I know hospitals are probably a no-go at the moment, but you need medical help, and I know this woman in the village who’s a nurse, she can help you better than I can.”

Jon suddenly knew, then--lower-case knew, but with no less certainty--that Martin had befriended the village’s nurse with a scenario like this one, or perhaps even worse ones, in mind. He’d planned ahead, made sure he wouldn’t risk the worst happening, even after having to take drastic measures to free Jon from his imprisonment.

God, Jon loved him.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jon hesitated. “...I just hope the worst is over now.”

“I mean, isn’t it? It’s over now, it’s ended, right?”

“Even if we got rid of Jonah Magnus for good, which I’m not sure of-”

“His bloody eyes are on the ground, there’s not much more proof you can get than that-”

“There’s more out there. Daisy, the other hunters, the mess back at the Institute... not all of it can end here.”

“...maybe you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the end. But you know what?” Martin squeezed Jon’s arm, gently, and Jon noticed that Martin’s hand was warmer than it had been for some time now. “It doesn’t have to be. We can turn it into a new beginning, the start of a better life than the one we had back in London.”

“Not a high bar, that one.”

“Agreed.” Martin let out a low whistle. “Can you stand up? I’d really rather not just carry you all the way to the car-”

“What, you don’t fancy a bridal carry? Carrying me over the threshold?” Jon’s voice was teasing, but he felt Martin sway slightly, and he wished he could see the look on Martin’s face.

“I mean, I can do it if I have to, I suppose, but-”

“No, no, let me at least try.” Jon moved one arm to keep his towels pressed against his eye sockets, brushing against Martin’s arm in the process, and used the other to push himself off of the couch. It was slow and shaky and probably not a pretty sight, but he got up and stayed up, and that was what mattered.

“Alright, now, the front door isn’t too far, just over there-”

“Still can’t see your gesturing.”

“Right. Of course. It’s, it’s on your right, after you cross the room--do you think you can make it to the car alright?”

Despite the pain that still plagued him, Jon broke out into a wide smile. “Only if you lead the way.”

Martin took Jon’s hand, and side by side, the two made their way forward.

[trouvelle]

The Dead Don’t Cry (II)

This is not a continuation;;; I mean maybe it is? but ok I don’t know what else to call it. All my love goes to this certain katana-wielding boy who doesn’t deserve any pain (cue my *nervous laugh*)

Fandom: Detective Conan/DCMK Pairing: Heiji/Kazuha Rating: PG-13 Genre/Tags: Tragedy, Angst, Horror, Zombie!AU Warning: Character Death Summary: Heiji smiles at her, wishing he has said I love you at least once, because that's how he feels. It's all too late now. 

•

Inside the house that they managed to break into and settle in for a few months now, there is a room with a thick glass door. Ever since the outbreak happened, this is the second and only house that they occupied as their sanctuary. It was by sheer luck that Heiji’s father knew a rich congressman who had a custom-build house for extra protection because politicians are often paranoid, that’s all. Heiji is quite familiar with that room by now—it has been functioning as a sterile room they use to keep the virus out, or the one they use to lock the virus in. This is where his parents died, with gunshots to the head, delivered through tears and gritted teeth, and the last of his father's strength, demanding for Heiji to save himself.

Heiji heard how some people are catching the virus even without getting bitten. Some people say everyone has the dormant virus in their system, just waiting for it to fully emerge. Some say it's in the food. Either way, it doesn't look like the whole thing is going to be over any time soon.

It's been long since he survived this, and maybe Heiji shouldn't survive anymore. In a way, he's already lost to the zombies. There is a certain horror that doesn't leave you when you've seen so many of your friends and family die in the worst possible way. Some aren't themselves anymore, lost behind dead misty eyes and decaying skin. Some aren't intact upon their death, devoured into pieces by those creatures. Some others died in his own hands, asking to be killed before they turn into something they never wish to end up as. Heiji still wakes up with nightmares in the middle of the night, from Otaki-han’s voice begging for Heiji to take his life, from his father’s eyes that were no longer his own and the image of his mother’s bloody flesh.

It's not really a life worth living when every day is a constant report of deaths, a continuous loss of people he once knew. Kazuha, who has always been a ray of sunshine, keeps insisting that one day, the whole thing will pass. He notices that she has been saying it less nowadays, especially following the absence of her father.

The only other people Heiji knows to have survived are Shinichi and Ran. Kazuha talks to Ran on the phone every single day. They have been updating each other and just to keep themselves company. Once, Heiji overhears them trying to maintain a normal conversation, as if pretending that their lives haven’t been turned upside down.

As of last week, it's Ran who has passed.

"Ran-chan called to say goodbye," Kazuha informed him that day, voice wavering from the tears she fails to hold back. Shinichi had already called Heiji himself at sunset the day before. She’s infected, out of nowhere, the former Detective of the East confided to him, his voice raspy like he had been screaming for hours. That was the last he’s heard from Shinichi. (Heiji still dials his number every morning religiously.)

"And then Ran-chan—” Kazuha sobbed, “She… she s-said she will do it herself. She knows Kudo-kun wouldn’t."

Heiji banged his fist on the concrete wall. Shinichi and Ran were their closest friends, the last remnants of their old lives before the virus. "She’ll be okay," he whispered as he wrapped his hands around Kazuha, pulling her into a hug. He needed assurance just as much as she did. "I'm sure she’ll be okay soon."

An image spurred into Heiji's mind. Of Kazuha, trying to put a bullet to her own head… no, there's no way he could live with that. He would do whatever is necessary to prevent that from happening. They had fallen asleep in each others' arms, and when Heiji screamed himself awake from a nightmare, merely two hours later, Kazuha was already up, crying next to him.

•

The first thing he notices is the change in his voice. He always sounds gruffy in the morning, but this time it doesn't even sound human. It's too hoarse, too scratchy, too low—it's hard even to get a decent good morning out.

Of course Kazuha notices it, too. "Do you want me to go get you some medicine?" she asks right away, eyebrows furrowed in concern. They still have plenty to live off of, and unless it's absolutely necessary, Heiji really doesn't want either of them to go out. He would rather stay in and watch the TV, although it's just a tedious rerun of old cartoons with the occasional breaking news. 

He shakes his head no. "I'll be okay," he answers, sounding the farthest from okay. Maybe he should try to go back to sleep.

"You should sleep some more," Kazuha says finally, still looking worried. She reaches to touch his cheek, stroking his face slightly, and he feels his skin burn with heat. He is way past the state of being shy and embarrassed upon any physical touch from this childhood friend of his, so it can only mean one thing. 

It dawns on him then, what might be happening. Heiji jerks slightly from the realization, half hoping that she doesn't notice. He gets on his feet urgently, shaking his head some more. Please, please, please, don't let Kazuha notice. "Uh," he mutters. He doesn't think she is aware of his panic, so at least that's a relief. "I think I'll go shower."

"Okay," she agrees, not questioning anything despite the rather confused look in her eyes. "Do you want tea? I’ll make some porridge for breakfast today."

Heiji grins, hoping it comes off as his usual one. He nods quickly before rushing to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. In all honesty, he's panicking inside, and he needs to look in the mirror right now to calm himself down. But what he sees results in quite the opposite.

It takes a lot to notice the symptoms at this stage, but Heiji has seen it way too many times. He saw it on his father, he saw it on his mother—and now he's seeing it on himself. There is a red spot in his sclera, an early sign that it’s hemorrhaging. He sees the tiniest tint of grey covering his iris, one that he knows will spread until his eyes are misty and blood red both at once. He takes off his shirt and spots dark specks of rotten skin across his back, and it's confirmed, now, Heiji mourns. He's turning.

He doesn't think it's fair—he's been careful enough with everything he does, with everything he touches and everything he eats. But then again, nothing about living in a world full of the living dead is fair. Heiji slumps down to the floor and leans on the wall, banging the back of his head repeatedly against it. He's got Kazuha to think of, he's got his own feelings for Kazuha to worry about.

Heiji has never really told her what he feels, although he's certain that she knows by now. Love doesn't help much in this kind of life, and he doesn't want to burden her with feelings on top of the whole mess that is their universe. But now that he knows his time is up, really, Heiji just wants her to know how happy she makes him. How thankful he is to have spent his whole life with her. 

Tears are trickling down his face, and he scratches his head in frustration, clawing some skin and hair off the side of his head. The violent strike is coming, too, Heiji realizes as he tries to stop himself from peeling his face off. From what he has seen, It takes around twelve hours for the transformation to take over completely, but the problem is that he doesn’t know when it first started. He knows it's selfish, but he really just wants to have more time being normal with Kazuha.

Maybe, maybe, just a few hours would be okay.

•

He prays that he has enough time with her so they can both cherish their last moments together. And right now, he prays that Shinichi is still alive and will answer his call.  When the line goes through, although he hears nothing but low breathing on the other end, he exhales the breath he doesn’t even realize he’s been holding.

“Hattori.” The other boy starts.

When Heiji hears the familiar voice that belongs to his best friend, he feels a huge sense of relief and happiness, so much so that he almost forgets about what’s happening to himself. “You’re alive.”

“So are you.” 

Not for long. Heiji lets out a pained chuckle, “I have a favor to ask you.”

•

This is as normal as it gets. Sitting on the couch, watching the same cartoon episode they’ve already watched last week and the week before, eating the food that Kazuha prepared. She rests her head on his shoulder, and he has his arm around her, taking in every last moment he gets to have. In another life, this would still be them on weekends, minus the wandering zombies outside, maybe plus one little boy or two in the near future. Or girls, Heiji doesn't really care.

The thought of Kazuha with adorable children of their own makes Heiji smile, although it's hardly the appropriate time for that. He should tell her soon. It's not fair for either of them, but at least it would be safer for her if he tells her. He should tell her soon.

Not just yet.

Heiji lifts his head and kisses Kazuha on her forehead, earning him an amused look from the girl. "What was that for?" she asks, obviously pleased.

Heiji shrugs, not wanting to say anything because God knows how bad he sounds right now, hours since then. He recalls everything Kazuha has done for him—helping him with their parents’ bodies, kissing and holding him to sleep when the nightmares get overwhelming—she’s always there by him no matter how bleak the situation they’re in. Heiji smiles at her, half wishing he has said I love you at least once, because that's how he feels. Now it's all too late, and even if he tries to say the words, the voice won't be his own. But still, thank you, he mouths, thank you for everything.

Kazuha doesn't answer. So he leans down to capture her lips with his. It burns and it stings, but the way his heart shatters hurts him the most. As the kiss deepens, he finds himself wanting to bite on her lips, but then a small voice in his head asks which part of him the urge comes from. His fear for Kazuha's life is what makes him push her away. Before she realizes what’s going on, he is already up, running away from her and locking himself behind the glass door.

"Wha—Heiji?" Kazuha has finally caught up with him and finds him inside the confinement room. Heiji watches as she searches his face and slowly understands what's happening. Her expression falters into something he has only seen once on her face before—an overwhelming mix of shock, sadness, and utter devastation. That time, Heiji got to her too little too late. She had had to put her father down, and Heiji promised himself that he would never ever let her go through it again. Look how that turned out, he bitterly laughs. He wishes he hadn't caused her such pain, but what is there for him to do?

"I'm sorry," Heiji manages to croak out in an unfamiliar voice. His pupils are probably almost fully diluted, now. Despite his hazy eyes, he can see the skin on the tips of his fingers perishing. He's already half dead, but maybe he still has a few more hours of being conscious. Before then, he has to convince and make sure Kazuha kills him—otherwise he doesn't know what he's capable of doing to her. "This sucks."

Kazuha still stares at him in a daze, her jaw hanging loosely as she steps forward to lean on the door. "How?" she asks finally with a strained voice. She sinks down to the floor, her knees banging against the tiles in a way that will surely leave bruises. She doesn’t seem to realize, or mind.

"How?" she repeats in a whisper Heiji can barely hear, because he is thumping his head again and again to the glass surface separating the two of them.

Despite the ache in his chest, Heiji grins weakly. He can feel parts of himself slipping away and it gets harder to stop his hands from jerking, to stop himself from peeling skin off of his body. His vision is stained with grey and yellow and red, and Kazuha will probably look like nothing but a lump of meat by the time he is taken over completely. 

"Kazuha?" he calls with the last bits of his consciousness. He just wants her to know that he's still there. He just wants her to know that even in his current state, she is in the only thing on his mind.

In between silent sobs, she answers, "Heiji." She is struggling to get words out. Heiji stays quiet as she weeps, palms pressed on the door. She gasps for air and tilts her head up to stop her tears. She turns to face him, questioning with an unsteady voice, "Heiji, what are we going to do?"

He quirks one eyebrow up as an answer, as if saying Ahou, you know what to do. Kazuha stares at him desperately, as if begging Don't you dare make me do it.

"You have to," Heiji croaks, again with the foreign voice that is now his. It's so hard to breathe right now, and he isn't sure if it's the aftereffect of the infection or the sight of a broken Kazuha in front of him. "Please," he adds when she doesn't answer. Would it be easier for her if he kills himself? Like Ran did? It’s no use now, all their weapons are outside of the room. Heiji can’t risk opening the glass door at this stage.

Kazuha presses her forehead on the glass door. "How long do we have?" she asks, searching his face. He wonders how bad he looks right now—he knows some of the skin on his face has already peeled off, maybe his flesh is even showing. He knows his eyes are supposed to be clouded all over now, some parts of his face probably ashy and decaying already. He doesn't want her to look at his face anymore.

"Heiji," She repeats in a much softer voice when he turns to the other side of the room with his back facing her. "Let me look at you, please."

No, he wants to yell. She still wakes up screaming with nightmares of her father. He doesn’t want to be in her worst nightmare.

"You have to kill me," Heiji begs. "Right now."

There's a button on the side of the glass door. All Kazuha has to do is press it, and in ten seconds the door will open, and she has a split second to pull the trigger before the monster inside Heiji prances forward to kill her. There is a shotgun right there behind the vase. There's also a revolver in the top drawer. It's so easy to end all of this. He really wants it to be over—what's the use of having Kazuha so close if he doesn't get to touch her? What's the use if he has no power to tell him how much he wishes things were different, how much he wishes they could be together?

"Let me have you for another hour," she pleads helplessly. He remembers his parents, her father, even Ran, and prays that Kazuha is strong enough to move on alone. Heiji frantically starts writing down letters on the floor, a message for when Kazuha loses him, his last words written with his blood.

When he's done, he nods to her. At the rate his whole body is spasming, he knows he won't be able to hold on for another hour, but he'll let her get everything she wants for now. Like he always has. He’ll let her prepare herself before having to kill him.

"This is so unfair," Kazuha sobs, “I can’t kill you too.” She leans on the door so closely like she wants to go past it and get next to him, but he is thankful that she can't. He doesn't know what he'll do if she is within touching distance. "I don't know what to do, Heiji, I really don't know what to do."

He doesn't know either. He really wishes things could be different but here he is, decaying by the minute, slowly giving way for a monster to occupy his body. Kazuha looks like she's willing himself not to cry, and Heiji wonders how much pain he's causing her this time. All he does is hurt her. She never looks away, as if it’s the only way she could hear what he is thinking. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

"Have to,”—groan—”live,” is all Heiji can bring himself into saying through gritted teeth. She will be all alone, but she will make it. If only he had the strength and mind power to, he would have added please, Kazuha, you have to survive this.

There is a sob-filled pause, until, "I will," Kazuha answers weakly, smiling a little. "I will." Heiji feels relieved at her promise. He knows she’s strong enough. 

He nods as many times as he physically can and presses his palm against hers, albeit with the thick glass separating them. He would do anything to hold her again. All he can do is grin at her and try his hardest to ignore the pain.

Maybe Heiji really doesn't have much time at all. He is starting to lose control of his body and his eyes open wide, his vision covered in a blur of reddish grey. He punches the glass, trying to break free, trying to get on the other side. The monster inside is taking over—Kazuha has to do it right now. 

"Heiji?" Kazuha sounds hesitant as she calls his name. I'm still here, Kazuha, Heiji wants to say. But it's too hard right now, he's too weak and something else inside him is taking over.

Heiji has killed more than enough of those monsters in his lifetime, some he doesn't know at all, some he knows way too well. Now Heiji learns that the hardest one to kill is the one inside your own body. "I can’t—" He croaks with all the strength he can muster. "—anymore—kill me."

Kazuha is stepping back from where she is seated near the door, with one hand covering her mouth, and even with all the haze covering his line of sight, Heiji can tell that she is crying even louder than before. I'm sorry for making you do this, he wants to tell her, I'm sorry for leaving you alone. But there's not enough of him left in this body. He feels himself taking steps backwards, getting ready to ram through the door. 

Bam. He slams his body to the thick glass that doesn't budge. Bam. He feels a searing pain in his shoulders. Bam. She is holding the shotgun in one hand. You can do it, Heiji thinks, Goodbye, Kazuha. He can't see where the blur ends and where the red starts. Bam. By now, his urge to prance on her is as strong as his will to say I love you.

He can hear a low sound of countdown—ten... nine—she has pressed the button, now. He'll be gone in mere seconds. 

Three, two, one.

Gunshots sound the same whether you're behind or in front of the gun, Heiji learns. A sharp pain hits the center of his head, burning, stinging.

All the red in his eyes diffuses into black.

•

Inside the house that they managed to break into and settle in, there is a room with a thick glass door. Kazuha has cleared the room after the body of what used to be Heiji started to smell. She has gotten so used to the stench of the dead, but she knows she has to treat him with more grace and respect. That might not be Heiji any longer, but he was fighting until the very end.

It gets lonely, living in a world where everyone else is dead.

Sometimes Kazuha wants to join Heiji and her father and her friends in the afterlife, assuming such a place exists for people who died the way they did. Sometimes Kazuha goes for days without eating, because she barely feels anything, maybe her body is broken. Sometimes Kazuha gets tired of falling to no end, and her thoughts go to the revolver in the drawer, or the shotgun behind the vase. When it happens, she enters the room with a thick glass door, sits down and stares at the floor, reading the words written in the last drops of Heiji's blood out loud.

Live, Kazuha. You said the whole thing will pass.

[izumisays]

dear yuletide author

Thank you so much for reading this and taking part in this wonderful annual conspiracy!

First of all, I hope you have a lovely time! If any of the fandoms below pique your interest, I’m delighted already, and ready to hear all the stories you want to tell.

Fandoms: Nirvana in Fire, Spinning Silver, In Other Lands, Thunderbolt Fantasy, Grasshopper Jungle

As for reading preferences, I’m happy with a wide variety of tones and genres, of any rating, ranging anywhere from lighthearted antics to dramatic casefics. But the core of all the stories I love has always been character interaction and interplay of their competences. 

How the characters play off each other and bring out their best/worst, how they’d react to a divergence of events, how true they’d stay to themselves in a different setting -- I love fanfiction for allowing us to reconnect with our favourite stories time and again by asking these questions. And there are so many ways to do it! To name a few favourites, I’m always game for POV hijinks, a missing scene, a casefic, canon expansion, backstories and what-ifs.

You may notice that quite a few of my requests lean towards shipfic – those, too, are welcome in a variety of tones – but I also tried to include openings for gen ideas if that’s your jam. Additionally, while it is not usually my top interest, I don’t have anything against AUs if there is something that you are itching to explore: I tend to enjoy them for a new aesthetic that fleshes out the favoured character dynamics in a new light, or a fusion that redefines the playing ground to allow the characters to exhibit their core competences in new and exciting ways.

I would be very grateful if you could avoid a/b/o and similar kinktropes, played-straight soulmate fic, and character interpretation that runs contrary to their core values. If in doubt, please reach out to me on anon - the askbox is open!

NIRVANA IN FIRE: Mei Changsu, Xiao Jingyan

Is this a complex, narratively inevitable historic tapestry strangling people with its treads, full of delicious politicking and identity porn? Yes, it is.

Is my burning – nay, primal – desire so simple as to smoosh two faces together and watch them kiss? Yes, it is :’)

I mean, I will obviously not say no if the kissing is giftwrapped in the said tapestry of beautiful, politicky plot, but the fever I can’t get out of my system is this: LET THEM KISS, GODDAMMIT. LET THEM BE HAPPY. I welcome canon divergences, alternative endings, fix-its, insert eps and codas where it looks like they would have kissed (erm, or at least confronted each other in a way that would inevitably end with them making out) if only Mei Changsu wasn’t so caught up in self-loathing and fluffy foxfur coats, and Jingyan didn’t talk too loudly about his so dead, so very dead beautiful ex to hear Mei Changsu weep stoically into his beautiful white furs.

I adore Prince Jing. He is 90% cheekbones and 20% heartbroken pouting over his so very dead friends, and all of it noble and awkward and stubborn and deserving of happiness. Mei Changsu is ridiculous, and capable, and twisted into pretzels of his own creation: not above gloating over his enemies while daintily dipping cookies into his tea, he gets too caught up in weaving the tapestry to notice he is a part of it.  Pull him off his high horse, Jing! Render him helpless by being yourself! Do something about being hopelessly charmed with each other, through resentment, loss, bitter pining, and narrative inevitability! JUSTKISSALREADY.gif!!

 SPINNING SILVER: Mirnatius

Spinning Silver is a beautiful story, a polyphony of voices that echo the key themes with poignance in individual tales coming together into a bigger picture: admirable female characters, complicated families, bargains and stakes and wordless bonds, all spun and woven together with so much care and craft! While I really liked the whole journey, it’s two characters in particular at whom I’d like to get a closer look.

Irina and Mirnatius: both shipfic and/or gen. Irina the ruler, with an iron will and unwavering hand: I would absolutely like to explore the court life under her rule, after the events of the book. In between running a country and cleaning up a demonic mess, does she find a thought to spare about Mirnatius? Does she harbour any resentment or sense of obligation, or indulgently tolerates him as part of the ornamental royal regalia? Is there a role she envisages him playing? Does she box him into that role, or allow herself to be surprised?

MIRNATIUS, hands-down my favourite POV in the book. How does he get on after demon loses his hold on him? What kind of person he is on his own? I’d like to think he doesn’t lose all his edges, and perhaps gets high-headed and displaced now that his mind is vacated off its demonic freeloader, and there is a quest for find his own place in the new reality, before he can be that dramatic artistic bisexual with no interest in statecraft that Irina gleamed in him.

How do the power dynamics between them change, and how much of that stays the same? Is there any genuine love to be found between them, eventually? (The answer doesn’t have to be yes – for all that they are the same species, I tend to think their circumstances are more complicated than Miryem and the Staryk’s, and less forgiving.)

IN OTHER LANDS: Luke Sunborn

Elliot is a spectacular narrator. Novel-shaped case in point: In Other Lands.

Having said that, what I really, really want to see is a story that makes Luke a narrator, or otherwise puts him at the center. I have it on good authority that he makes one fucking adorable narrator (novella-shaped case in point: Wings in the Morning), but why stop there, right?

Luke/Elliot, either post-canon or slightly amending canon, is always a delight. Luke crushing on Elliot for years in a resigned, semi-unaware (or aware!) manner - he gives Elliot Dale’s name only as a distraction, to get Elliot off his back, and watches with horrified eyes how every member of his family is suddenly out there to set him up with the wrong boy! Luke handling the thought of Elliot the boyfriend with awkwardness unbefitting a Trigon champion (granted, Elliot is kinda more prickly than an average glass ball). Luke having 110% confidence in Elliot and admiring him sass people into submission from the sidelines.

A look at Luke’s friendship with Serene - completely compatible with Luke forever crushing on Elliot, just saying ^^. I suspect lack of Elliot’s Serene goggles could do marvels to building nuance to her character: a little less emphasis on gender-reversed dudebro comedy, a little more of someone who is clever enough to balance multiple things, connect the dots, and learn, and stand by what she believes is right.

Competence kinkkk. Forever admiring the bookish people, refusing to stop trying to catch up, and zero time spent being conceited about own achievements while fully embracing his role of a champion and defender - that’s the Luke I love <3 Luke’s brand of leadership & charisma - an introverted champion, well-loved by people and easily tired of company of not his people.

Figuring out life after graduation! Casefic of them solving a mystery and preventing a war breakout! Getting assignments and storming the castles! Building cross-cultural competence by throwing Elliot at new people and watching him sign up new pen friends and treaties!

Sunborn family fic! A holiday get together? Drunken exchange of family stories? Another terrible competition that Elliot boycotts? Rachel reading Luke’s letters from year one and with great amusement observing the progression of his “THAT ELLIOT” feelings. (I would so die to read an epistolary fic that documents Luke’s Elliot problems) God I love the Sunborns, especially Rachel <3

I’m not particularly fond of Dale, on understanding that he got enough screentime already, so I’d be grateful if you didn’t center the fic around him. Obviously no objections to him as part of class ensemble, whose names Luke continuously fails to remember.

If you are writing a Luke/Elliot shipfic (which is a prospect I would whole-heartedly welcome!), just a note to say that I don’t get particular kicks out of wingfic poetics. I mean, I’m alright with that as part of the “golden and beautiful” package and acknowledgement that Elliot sure gets his kick out of them, but I personally find wings-as-harpy legacy and associated emotional baggage/pragmatism mix Luke feels on the subject more interesting to investigate. All the rest of their ship chemistry is very much welcome, in whatever proportion you enjoy doing it most.

 THUNDERBOLT FANTASY: Rin Setsua; Sho Fukan

I LOVE THIS SELF INDULGENT WUXIA NONSENSE AND I CANNOT LIE! 

If you had told me a year ago that I would commit a definitely not-insignifiant amounts of emotional investment into a Taiwanese puppet show written by Urobutcher, I’d have laughed in your face. I am so glad my lovely friends know me better than I do, and tied me to a chair long enough to show me the first few episodes, and smugly watched me breeze through two seasons and a movie of this tropey goodness. 

Sanfan is a mixture UTTER GLEE and deep fondness for the genre staples, self-aware and masterful playthrough of all the wuxia tropes in the book, and one goddamn well-constructed story. It plays the tropes straight, calls them out with a knowing wink, walks the tightrope between the two with panache, and just as you are relaxed and enjoying this trapeze show, it grins cheekily at you, sets the discoball on fire and pulls a bunny out of a hat.  It’s DELIGHTFUL and fun and lovingly crafted, just like a good passion project should be.

I want anything that capitalizes on the absolutely hilarious dynamics between Rin Setsua and Sho Fukan (and while personally I end up using the Japanese versions of their names more often, please feel free to go with the Chinese names if you prefer). Sho Fukan does not want any of those heroic quests, he’s the human equivalent of been there, done that mood, and he just wants to REST and hopefully dump a bunch of magical murderswords someplace safe. Rin Setsua is a Totally Respectable and Non-Villainous Member of Society, of which he will inform you firsthand in the most high spoken and verbose way possible, and maybe even produce paperwork that has definitely not been tampered with. He harbours no ulterior motives, ever, and does not trail behind Sho Fukan for any reason beyond the pleasure of his company, and his mission to personally victimize and cockblock every morally derelict villain in two countries, by no-one’s request. 

Whether you go shipfic (yiss!) or canon levels teamup circus (also yiss!), don’t hold back your horses. Everything about this is Extra, and should continue to be so <3 

GRASSHOPPER JUNGLE: Robby Brees

Do you ever, like, read an insanely cyclical, epic zombie apocalypse book that is probably narrated from the rubbles of the fallen fourth wall, and walk away softly clutching at your heart, whispering “Oh Robby”?

I sure did.

I mean, I definitely loved all the obsessive, crazy, cyclical shit the book did. It’s a trip and a half! Austin is a hilarious guide to the crazyland of zombie apocalypse and multiple identity crises, and I enjoyed him tremendously. If you want to dabble in recreating that, I’ll happily read it! But my heart longs to answer some important questions like, Will Robby Ever Get Appreciation He Deserves, Do They Get Laid, and most importantly, What The Fuck Happened That Night When They Got Drunk and Shit Got Transcendental. (I feel it in my heart of hearts that their dicks must have, or at least should have, touched.)

Play however you like with it -- coda, AU, fixit, crack (oh god, if there was a canon that was borderline crack itself), futurefic -- I’m gonna look forward to any and all permutations.

A note to say that I don’t harbor any ill feelings towards Shann! My primary urge is to coddle and adore Robby, and I leave it up to you to negotiate the hows and whys :) 

FWIW, I have a copy of Exile from Eden on my hands, but haven’t cracked it open yet. It’s entirely up to you if you want to include whatever is in there: I’m going to be pleased with just GJ material as is! If I do read Exile anytime soon, and if it significantly changes my views on the subject, I’ll add a note to that effect.

[kzesl]

Kdrama: Moorim school-thoughts

I have a lot of feelings about Moorim School: Saga of the Brave, and guess what? I’m going to share. Fair warning, this post is probably going to be a jumbled mess. Like me. I’m a jumbled mess. Spoilers ahoy.

Meet everyone at the school. They all look dorky. Headmaster in the middle, students on the left and teachers on the right, with some overlap.

How I got into this one? I watched Secretly, greatly (ouch, my feels. I could write a long post about it. Stop me. Please.) and then I decided to see what else Lee Hyun Woo has acted in. Because he was an adorable badass in it, and I am weak.

Objectively speaking, Moorim school is not very good. I, however, don’t watch things objectively. Why be objective when you can be subjective? Right? Right. This is not a kdrama that I would recommend to anyone who has never watched a kdrama before. This is a drama for those who like certain, specific things in their dramas. I enjoyed it. Even though I had to increase the speed at times. I use Super Netflix extension occasionally, I admit.

What is it about?

This is the IMDb summary: Moorim School isn't focused on high academic scores. The school teaches students virtues including honesty, faith, sacrifice and communication. The teachers and students at the school come from different countries with their own stories.

These are the four main characters, from left to right: Wang Chi-Ang, Shim Soon-deok, Yoon Shi-Woo, and Hwang Sun-ah.

The intro is a bit misleading. It makes you expect badassery and mysticism, and instead you get a bunch of dorks arguing about who gets the bed with a good view though the window.

It starts with a man protecting a little girl, and fighting off a bunch of mean looking men, dressed in black (gasp! Bad guys) in the woods. The fight scenes are not exactly good. They make me cringe. It’s not high production. However, not every series can be like K2 when it comes to fight scenes. It’s a bit bad, because the series focuses on martial arts quite a bit, but eh. They managed to convey that the man protecting the girl is a badass. Let us move on and not mention the quality of action scenes again. He fights the bad guys off and hides with the girl behind a shield that he raises by activating magical symbols. (Magic is never explained. Everyone just accepts its existence. It’s not taught at the school either. It just exists and no one questions it.)

Then we jump to eighteen years later.

People are preparing for a concert, but the main star, the most popular member of k-pop group Möbius, Yoon Shi-Woo, is sleeping instead of rehearsing. He gets chewed out, but he is not overly concerned. He’s got bigger problems, like the splitting headaches and wonky hearing.

Next we meet Wang Chi-Ang, who is spoiled, sheltered momma’s boy, who only wants to make her happy and his father, the chairman of the Shang Hai group, proud. He’s in the city to go to the concert, because his father’s company is sponsoring it. Shi-Woo is a model for their company.

Shim Soon-deok is a resourceful young woman who is working hard to support herself and her blind father. She sells food at the concert, and she works at a chicken place. She also attends Moorim school. The ladies are badass in this series. Which is nice.

Hwang Sun-ah is Soon-deok’s friend and Shi-Woo’s biggest fan. She calls him my Shi-Woo (headcanon: she is the founder of his fan club. It is a secret she will take to her grave, because it feels a bit awkward when certain truths come to light. Headcanon 2: Shi-Woo knows, but lets her think he doesn’t.). She had to sneak out to go to the concert, because her father, the headmaster of Moorim school is overprotective.

There are a couple of shirtless scenes and Shi-Woo has a Very Important Necklace, which we know because the camera focuses on it a lot.

Chi-Ang and Shi-Woo are accidentally given the same room at a hotel. Oh, no. Who’s going to be the one to leave?!?! Chi-Ang attempts to throw his weight around and refuse to sponsor Shi-Woo, because everything is a competition for that man and he has to win. But Shi-Woo is unimpressed and uninterested and like cool, whatevs, day off.

That’s Shi-Woo there, in white. No fucks given. Can’t win against someone who’s not playing, Chi-Ang. Now this says a lot about their future relationship. Chi-Ang always tries to win, and Shi-Woo always refuses to compete.

The concert goes okay, until there is an accident on stage and Shi-Woo almost gets injured/dies because a piece of equipment starts falling on him and he doesn’t hear everyone shout at him to move because of the wonky hearing. He slows the equipment down with his surprise magical powers and Sun-ha manages to save him. She tells him to go to Moorim school, but doesn’t tell him how to get there (who needs directions, anyway).

Both he and Chi-Ang end up there in the end. Chi-Ang because his father insists (he has nefarious plans) and the girl he likes goes to the same school, and Shi-Woo because he wants help with his hearing. There is a possibility that he will permanently loose it and music is all he has. He is an orphan who has no one else in this world since his manager/father figure turned out to be all about the money. Also, the relationship he has with the rest of his group seems strictly professional. And Möbius was the name he used for himself before he was even scouted. So it predates the group. (I want to read a fic about group feels, or an AU where they are actually close.)

Also, the shield magically comes down when they come close to the school for the first time, and that was not supposed to happen and everyone is concerned. But that relates to the plot and the plot is a bit meh. I’m here for the relationships anyway. (Sigh. The plot had potential.)

Things happen, and I won’t go into detail, but the two of them get expelled, go on a quest, get accepted back into the school and become friends. BFFs.

The school teaches cooking, martial arts, manners (I think), dance (?), meditation, and no other subject, it seems. It is a very weird school, and the professors are weird and nothing makes sense, but okay. Not many things about this series make sense. Moorim was created to ensure world peace, apparently. And it’s a martial arts school, primarily, but they are more focused on teaching good values. There aren’t that many students in this school, and they are from all over. I’m not sure how students are actually recruited. The school is a secret. Are they scouted? Are they those connected to Moorim? Or those who get lost in the woods outside of the school? Who knows. Not me. They also seem to struggle financially because the heating is off. Why else would everyone sleep pretty much fully clothed?

The other students in the school get some screen time, but their characters are not all that well fleshed out, so I found myself not caring too much. It got a bit better in later episodes. One of them keeps badmouthing others in English, for some reason. It’s not like on one understands him. Everyone understands him. He just likes speaking English, I guess.

There is a mysterious man in a coma, villains, a magical key split into three pieces that can lead to unlimited power, reunited families, surprise siblings, etc.

Also, let’s ignore how quickly some people became good at martial arts. Now, I’m no expert, but I have a bit of experience in martial arts and I have known some extremely talented individuals, prodigies, but even they needed more than two months to get anywhere. I’m going to leave it at that. Magic is real in this universe. It’s magic. Problem solved.

The part I like the most about this series is the relationship between Chi-Ang and Shi-Woo. They start off as roommates who don’t like one another, so they fight a lot. It changes, but- Now I’m all for men being shown as having other male friends they can have healthy relationships with, someone they could lean on and cry in front of, if necessary, without toxic masculinity getting in the way. Let men be friends, yeah? And I’m not one who immediately sees gay in everything. But, those two guys have the hots for each other. They’re all: I came back for you/I stayed for you/I miss you/You mean more to me than unlimited power/You’re so cool-No you are/Don’t smile, I might start liking you.

Ahem.

They like the same girl (Soon-deok). Which seemed very hard for them, but I believe that was the best thing that could have happened to them. Soon-deok kept refusing Chi-Ang, and she was very clear about it. She drew the line at one point, and he made me very uncomfortable when he outright told her that he doesn’t care about her lines. This could have turned very ugly if his rival had been anyone other than Shi-Woo. He threatened to destroy Shi-Woo more than once, and he came close to irreparably destroying their relationship, but in the end he didn’t. Because Shi-Wook had so much faith in him, he couldn’t bear to. Again, if it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have even hesitated. (Hmm, imagine a Dark AU. So many possibilities. )    

I have the urge to write fic. Sigh.

Also, at one point the students have a party and Möbius’s song plays in the background and no one teases Shi-Woo about it or peer pressures him into doing his part of the song or the dance, or even looks at him while smirking. WTH. Come one, guys!

Back to the two leads. It’s an interesting dynamic they have. And although Chi-Ang is taller, physically stronger and more imposing, it’s Shi-Woo who’s actually in charge. And I’m not going to tell you to get your mind out of the gutter, because that’s exactly where mine is. And Chi-Ang looks like he might have a serious praise kink. Besides, we have seen that Shi-Woo is not shy about going after what he wants. As we saw with the two kissing scenes with Soon-deok, he is quietly assertive. Unlike Chi-Ang, who is more… bluster and need for attention.

Shi-Woo started as this arrogant, irritable superstar, but it didn’t take him long to shed that behavior, that image. As if, all this time, he was just waiting for a moment out of the spotlight, for a place where he can belong. He seems like one of those people who were born knowing which lines they are not willing to cross. His urge to harm someone is his greatest fear, because he is aware of the damage he is capable of inflicting.

Chi-Ang had different masks. He too knew loneliness, but his was of a different kind. While Shi-Woo was not protected enough, Chi-Ang was sheltered too much. His mother dotes on him, and his father adores him, albeit in his own, extremely unhealthy way. It was clear to me from the start that his father loves him. It seems a significant thing that he is the son of a mistress and not legitimate, but his father has made no attempt to hide him. He provides for him, protects him and spoils him. He has no kind words for him, though, and his lessons are poison, but he tried to make his son strong. Which is what he values. And he has used him. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love him. He just doesn’t know how to love properly. 

Chi-Ang takes after his father in many ways. We see that the most in later episodes. But he has people who have faith in him, and who are willing to tell him off. He is aware that he is wiling to cross too many lines, lines he shouldn’t. He is gray, and will probably always struggle with himself. He seems like a puppy most of the time, but when he is serious about something, his determination is a scary thing.

Shi-Woo would make a more terrifying villain, though. He wouldn’t become one, precisely because he terrifies himself when he thinks about what he could do, if pushed enough.

I could talk more about this series. There are quite a few touching moments I could cover, and also a lot of ridiculousness and wth moments, but there is a reason I didn’t do a recap of every episode. I don’t have time. Besides, I wrote all of this just to get it off my chest, because I have no fandom friends to discuss stuff with. It is sad.

Also, I should have broken up the text in this with a few more photos, but I’m tired.

[starsweepersold]

CANON DIVERGENCY FOR RED

so i know i said that i wasn’t going to talk more about this until tomorrow because i wanted to give myself time to think things over but i got hit with inspiration while i was shopping.  a way that combos what happened in the episode with what i would like with red’s character that will make me, as her mun, happy and hopefully still fit in with mainverse well !!!

i’ll do a more proper post later as this one is just spewing out thoughts since i got things to do tonight, and so i can’t commit to really fleshing everything out just yet.  also i gotta start making more icons soon rIP I HATE ICON MAKING, but i need more of my child even with that hairstyle ( especially with her being all feisty in episode four, that touched my heart ).

here’s some thoughts!

my red won’t hate being referred to as red.  first and foremost thing to say xD  in fact, clearly i’m still referring to her by that.  HOWEVER, her real name is known after the events of the “episode” and she’ll answer to whatever.

i am NOT using catalina.  not that i hate the name, but i’ve developed red as adeline for a while now.  plus i’ve made entire aus with her and plotted/written using adeline/ada as her name.  also i live in los angeles so i hear catalina and just immediately think the island lmao.  so my red will remain as adeline.

red is NOT a werewolf and NEVER actually was.  the idea that show presented is true, but instead of red BEING the werewolf, she’s being hunted by the curse.  because her being angry over constantly being stepped on has built to the point she’s breaking some.  so the curse, taking the form of the large beast, is trying to get her, and she’s fully aware.  but since she’s been run over so much when trying to say anything, she’s given up trying to let everyone know.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, my red is not chatty as all get out just yet.  after this episode, she’ll be getting better.  warming up to the idea, but it’s a slow process.  she hasn’t just suddenly found her courage and self, she’s a work in progress.

going back to the werewolf.  rapunzel does see the necklace on the wolf curse’s neck, because it came close to getting red.  but she threw her necklace as a distraction and got away temporarily.  rapunzel assumes it’s red, but when angry takes them to the treehouse, red doesn’t have her necklace and is shaken.  when everyone goes back to trying to catch the werewolf instead of listening to her again, red grows furious and runs away.

she ends up becoming trapped by the curse.  the others will come along to find her about to be consumed by it and question why the curse would be after her.  that’s when red snaps and starts screaming at all of them what she’s been trying to say.  very similar to the rant she gives in the show, talking about how she doesn’t want to be run over and ignored anymore, she doesn’t want to move, etc.  and when angry apologizes and confesses she loves her sister and realizes she’s been a bad one, that calms red’s heart enough to dissuade the curse from taking red.

for now.

thus allowing the idea of it to remain ( and possibly come back if i feel it fits better at a later date but until that ), but my red stood up for herself WITHOUT having to become a giant beast to do so.  and it’s after this that angry and the others start trying to listen to her more and, if they don’t, red will speak up to try and prevent the anger from rising again ( because she knows the curse is watching her ).

she’s not perfect, but she’s getting better.  so she won’t be as chatty as i said earlier, but she’ll talk more than prior.  which means maybe a line or two every so often lol.

...i really like this thought, i hope others do, as well.  to me, if gives red more strength because she battled back the curse and is beginning to find herself without having to embrace magic to do so.  it’s also more serious than the show’s take in my mind, because red clearly has some trauma and to just “solve it” with a curse to me is a no-go.  but i’m open to it maybe playing a role in my mainverse later.  for now, she will not be a werewolf in my canon, however.  perhaps i’ll make an au where it still consumes her, but it will still be using my current canon take.

( as for the lady who hunts the werewolf, she witnesses the curse “broken” and drops her pursuit, thinking it’s gone for now )

[chaniters]

Burdens of the Red

(Fallen Hero, Super Sentai AU, part 4)

Steel’s leadership is challenged by the surge of a new, cunning antagonist!

I have edited this part so many times it’s not even funny. Had to split it into two episodes too.  I’ll go on finish editing the second part, should be up in a day or two.

Enjoy!

(Spoilers for Fallen Hero ahead)

____________________________________

(Apocalypse Force’s HQ)

He stumbled through the control room, like a blind bull in a china shop, operators either staying clear of his way or actively pushing him away from the sensitive equipment as he stumbled forward.

No one helped him. No one wanted anything to do with the walking failure that was Dr. Blitz.

His scorched armor was still smoking with burnt circuits that and the unquestionable stench of defeat. The mask bore the fresh traces of lady Argent's claws.

"Ahh.. how kind of you to visit us, Dr. Blitz. We have been all been observing your miserable and humiliating defeat. It did have some entertainment value to all things considered...  But go on,  by all means, share your report, perhaps you can yet redeem yourself before the Apocalypse Force." Regis spoke on an amused tone that betrayed her murderous anger.

"They... they had new technology! Combat suits! New weapons!"

"Technology? Combat suits? Weapons?" She asked mocking his broken tone. "We have plenty of those as well. How is that an excuse?"

"They were very advanced... I believe it was Nanite-based..."

"NANItes???!" she asked standing up "Nonsense! No one has used such since the Nanoswarm incident!"

"I was right about their teleportation technology! And I saw the nanites! I recorded it!"

"Then show me!" She said slowly.

Blitz took of his derelict helm and offered it to one of the operators. Expert hands cracked what was left of it open in a matter of seconds, and the inner hardware was plugged it in. Soon enough video of the battle streamed through the screens.

Regis narrowed her gaze as she saw the colorful nanites swirl in a cloud and converge, rapidly forming the Titan. The regenes watched in awe as well.

"It seems we're up against a new formidable opponent in this ranger team" she let on speaking confidently, regaining control over the situation. "Which brings us back to the fact that twice you have proven useless against them"

"Give me another chance! I will have my revenge on that pink bitch! I have been working on other mutants! I can deal with them!" he cried.

"Why should I? You haven't learned a single thing about how to defeat them...! Take him away… we’ll deal with him later" she started turning back her attention to the screens

"No…” he coughed and spat some blood over the floor, falling on his knee. He still held his head high “... WAIT! I know something! One of them... one of them is a regene!"

"A turncoat soldier?" she said stopping her motion, suddenly interested once more

"A cuckoo! That's how he infiltrated our operation!"

"A rebel... hmr.. we have dealt with such in the past… too bad the archives were lost during the rise of the Apocalypse Force"

"If you just give me a chance I can..."

"No!" she said, shutting him up immediately. "I believe this will take a more... indirect approach. One of your creations will be taking over, but not your mutants… Dr. Terror, approach us" she called

"What? You can’t have the child replace me!" He cried

“My life for the Regis” A teenage girl wearing a simple dress walked over, taking a fist to her heart and bowing deeply, regene tattoos clearly visible on her arms and legs. She had a butterfly pin on her hair.

“Dr. Terror” Regis smiled, “You say the nicest things… Did you overhear everything?”

“Of course My Regis”

“Excellent. You will take over where Dr. Blitz failed. One of the rangers is a regene and we’re dealing with nanite technology. Do you think you can use this information to our advantage?”

"Indeed Regis. I have already devised a plan to finish them all.  I will make the necessary arrangements."

"Excellent Dr. Terror. Your enhanced intellect has never failed us so far. Do not let this be the first time" she said turning her attention back to her workers.

Dr. Terror walked out, with Blitz following closely.

“You miserable girl! How dare you steal my place? It can’t be helped now… I suppose I’ll have to keep control of this operation and you’ll just report to the Regis. You will stay out of my way!”

Dr. Terror turned to him with an angelical smile “I will do no such thing”

Blitz looked at her fully enraged. “What?”

“Are you surprised? You’re the one who thought me my lifespan would be determined by how useful I was to the Special Directive. You burned that lesson in my flesh a long time ago, after you made me… and you made sure I could not forget. I’ve made myself very useful since. To the directive. To the Regis, and to the apocalypse force. I have conquered city after city. You, on the other hand, are not looking very useful to anyone right now, are you?”

Blitz extended a palm at her, his damaged armor struggling to generate an energy blast… one that never came, as he was struck down by a creature emerging from the very wall. The thing placed a hoof over his neck, pinning him down.

“Pathetic” Terror smiled as looked down on the creature’s prey. The apparition seemed ready to finish Blitz on her command. “You can barely stand Dr. Blitz. I suggest you lay down and let me take care of this. It will be fun! I will soon take everything that ever belonged to you. This is just the beginning. And I’m going to enjoy every moment of it” her cruel words stinging her maker more than her minion’s attack.

She walked past him, followed by the shadowy mutant, leaving him alone as he tried to crawl behind them.  

_____________________

(Mortum’s lab facility)

“So, what do you think about these modifications?” Mortum asked handing him a tablet.

“Oh.. erm… I’ll review them and get back to you Doctor?”

“Of course! The sooner you do, the sooner I can get back to work”

“Indeed” Steel kept walking through the corridor.

“You have a call from above!” one of the numerous workers told him.

“Very well, I’ll get it in my office!” Steel said without stopping.

Mortum’s underground lair had turned into the focal point for their resistance movement.  And he was in charge of it all.

He entered the office and picked up the phone.

Oh damn. San Diego’s Mayor again.

He kept demanding they take down the Apocalypse force occupying the city before anything else.

It was his duty to make him understand that they were doing the best they could but they couldn’t quite take action there yet. Not with so many Apocalypse armies in between them. The mayor wasn’t shy of name-calling when furious, he had learned.

As he hung up, Herald appeared to ask for an assignment. Apparently, no one had given him one. He wasn’t experienced in this kind of situation enough to know where to be. (And who was, he wondered) He obviously had to make something up on the spot or the kid would feel useless. He ended up sending him to help in the hospital ward. He wasn’t a medic but his presence alone inspired morale.

As he closed the door there were a bunch of workers coming in to report their supplies were delayed. Fantastic. He redistributed what they had for the sixth time of the day on the spot.

Crap! When had this job become so tiring? He knew his responsibilities had increased with the current situation but this was getting ridiculous.

He looked through the window. There was a small park next to Mortum’s hideout. And sure there was Cyrus sitting on a bench featuring his trademark “why me?” expression that had never left his face since he came back to the world of the living. One would think he would feel better now that all his lies had come to an end, but it was even worse. Because Ortega wasn’t talking to him. Cyrus could be here with him, finding out what people needed by reading their minds before they came up to him and instead he was just staring at pigeons.

And of course, Ortega, who had been the Marshall before him and could be his much needed second in command was probably being depressed somewhere else out of sight as well, because his closest friend turned out not to be human. It was like he had died a second time.

Nerve-racking.

He took a seat … And the chair bent and broke under his weight, his coffee mug spilling over the table.

“Not again!!”

He tried to stand quickly, but it was too late… Mortum’s tablets were ruined with coffee all over. And he fell on his side, still stuck on the bent chair.

“Shit!” he cried. “Shit shit shit shi…”

“Need a hand?”

He looked up startled. Argent was standing next to him, the door wide open.

“I hear your job can be stressing” she smiled offering a hand.

“It can be challenging at times” he smiled taking the offered hand as she lifted him up.

“Well... If you’re serious about helping, there’s one thing you could do for me”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Cyrus and Ricardo. I need them back on the game. Yesterday if possible.”

“That’s a tall order,” she said looking at Cyrus through the window.

“I know. But they both listen to you”

“That they do…” She said turning.

“Thanks. You know, this was never the deal I accepted”

“What do you mean?”

“Charge was going to be the leader. I had enough of that during the war… I was just going to be a soldier using overpowered equipment to deal with local villains.”

“I see how that turned sideways.”

“You got that right. Everything went overboard with Heartbreak. He had basically adopted Sidestep. and when he died, he went back with him. And now he returns, but he’s a depressed villain? And now it turns out he’s not even a villain but a government lab experiment and torture victim… And Charge’s lost once more”

They kept talking. Not noticing the teenage girl with the butterfly pin calmly walking through the park in a straight line towards Cyrus’s seat.

___________________________________

Cyrus turned rapidly.

“Who are you?”

“Oh. Me? I’m like you, cousin! Just coming to visit!” she offered him a beautiful smile”

“If you’re here to kill me, it won’t be half as easy as you’re expecting…”

“It won’t? We have a list of all the traitors like you… And given your closeness to the Rangers, I was pretty sure It would be you. Aren’t you going to try to control me? I would totally not expect that!”

“Why are you still helping them? You can be free!”

“Oh poor Cyrus… that’s your name, right? Cyrus? Well, there are things you don’t know… Or maybe you know them too well. There’s no stopping the Apocalypse force. It’s is going to conquer this whole planet one way or the other. And I’ve made myself useful, so i’ll be at the top when that happens!”

“You can’t possibly believe a bureaucrat scientist like Regina will…”

She chortled with clear laughter.

“Regis Regina, you mean? Oh no no no… I mean she’s kind of smart and powerful and all but… The Apocalypse Force is alive cousin! It’s alive and it’s coming to bite all the humans in the ass! You know, if you turned to our side, then it would all be much easier...”

“I’m never going back to the farm!”

“So you’re staying here, waiting to see if Charge’s going to come back and smooch you? That’s your plan? Because he abandoned you there, you know? I always do my homework, I studied him. Do you want to know what he did when you were being tortured? He got drunk and fucked around the whole town!”

“SHUT UP!”  

“Awww that’s too dramatic cousin… This isn’t the farm!” she grinned. “Didn’t you see how we changed the whole theme?. We even got matching outfits!” It was true… even her dress had the dark colors he had come to expect. “You would have a great time! And I’d love to have a handsome cousin like you helping me out! Must say I love what you did with your hair. If you came with me… I’d show you everything! You can be my assistant!”

“No. Fucking. Way. Get lost!” he said standing up.

She sighed, putting her hands in jars “Tsk tsk. You should be nice to your little cousin Cyrus. I’m afraid you’re going to have to be punished” she said taking a small electronic device from her pocket.

His mind was pressing against hers in an instant… only…

It wasn’t a regular mind. It was huge… like a labyrinth…

“Don’t feel bad cousin! I’m sure you could probably do what you’re trying to do If I gave you enough time. But you know, you were nasty to me so...” she said flipping the switch

___________________________________

“How did this happen?!” Ortega's voice was almost panicking. He had only just arrived and the reality of the situation was still sinking in.  

They had to strap Cyrus to the medical bed to stop him from harming himself. He was now sedated but several people needed to restrain him to bring him in.

“Surveillance video shows a young woman approaching him and activating some kind of small electronic device… He must have sensed something because he tried to stand, but ended up convulsing over the floor” Steel told him.

“No trace of her” Herald added. “I looked everywhere. Must have teleported out. She had to be with the enemy”

“Shit… Cyrus!” Ortega tried to hold his hand but was shushed away by Dr. Mortum.

“Loving gestures from a static-charged people aren’t going to help right now. You could fry all the equipment Charge! Let me do my job and stay back!” he said placing some scanner devices over his head.

“This can’t be fucking happening!” He was clearly losing it. “I’m going to kill them… I’m going to …”

“HEY!” Argent said shaking him forcefully “Ricardo, I know what you’re going through but Either keep it together or go take a walk to cool down and come back!”  

“I …”

“You’re not helping!”

He said nothing else but just stood silent, his fists trembling visibly. He finally sat down, his mind going through the ugly cocktail of terror, fury, and impotence.

It took a good quarter hour before Mortum looked at them again.

“His brain implant was deactivated” he finally sentenced.

“What does that mean?” Steel asked trying to keep a neutral tone.

“Well, Regene brains are not exactly human… That implant plays a vital role in regulating it’s … chemistry so to speak. The intruder... Whomever she was… she must have activated some sort of kill-switch.”

His words echoed through the room, as Ortega covered his face with his hands as if he had just pronounced him dead.

“Is… there something you can do for him, Doctor?” Herald asked finally as Mortum kept checking the results from the scanners.

“As a matter of fact… THere’s a lot I could do… It’s been a pet project of mind to work in restoring comatose brains…” he said casually “... just a side project of course…”

“So you can fix him?” Ortega asked looking back at him

“Not exactly… as I said, it’s a regene brain… if his implant’s not reactivated there’s not much I can do for him.  But I can restore him to wakefulness with some medical nanites”

“How do we reactivate his implant?” Steel asked.

“We can’t Not without the proper codes… But… I’m guessing he can probably help us with that question once I wake him”   Mortum spoke as he loaded a syringe with a crystalline liquid substance oozing with nanite sludge.

“What, right now?” Argent looked at him bewildered

“Yes? I mean the sooner I stabilize him the more time he has to live. Or do you have a better idea mademoiselle?”

“Do it” Steel sentenced.

Mortum slid the syringe directly into the medical tubing connector, and the nanites slowly flowed into his bloodstream.

“Miracle workers… let’s see if you can live up to your promises” he cheered them

The nanites went through and nothing happened for a few minutes.

Until the alarms began sounding over the medical devices, Cyrus’ vitals changing rapidly, and his whole body convulsing again.  

Steel and Herald helped hold him down as Argent made sure Ortega didn’t approach.

“This is all normal! His body is just responding to stimuli!” Mortum tried to calm them down, a bit too late.

Cyrus eventually stopped moving, his vitals becoming stable once more. And he opened his eyes wide.

“It hurts! It hurts so much! Make it stop!” he started screaming. “Make it stop! Make it stop!”

Steel and Argent looked at Mortum. He was adjusting the nanites settings on a console…

“... and… there! Any better?”

Cyrus’ screaming ceased, and he just lay there breathing heavily.

“What’s … happening?” he asked confused.

“That’s a very good question mon amie. I’m afraid It will take a few more minutes of scans before I can provide you with an answer”

Steel approached Cyrus’ beadhead and tried to explain it to him in a hushed voice. It took several attempts before Cyrus finally nodded in understanding.

“Do you know where can we find activation codes? Manuals? Anything that can help Mortum figure out farm technology?”

Cyrus smiled back at him as if it was a very obvious question.

“M… map,” he said finally. “Write… Write down… Coordinates… in Nevada” Steel did as he said.

“Thank you, Cyrus”

As he turned to the others, Cyrus' hand pulled him”

“Take.. me with .. you”

“You’re out of it Cyrus!”

“I know that... Hell hole… please...” and then he passed out again.

“Well… I’d say we have both good news and bad news” Mortum said finally.

“Start with the good news” Steel said looking at Ortega, who seemed about to throw up.

“Well, the good news is the nanites are doing an excellent job replacing his implant. I think he should be … decently coherent for a few hours. He could even be on the field himself, which should prove quite useful to go to this mystery location…”

“And the bad news?”

“Medical nanites are dangerous. I’ve designed these with a limited lifespan. They will start dying off in about 8 hours and I only have enough to fill two more doses. They are not easy to produce either. We will run out within a day.”

Steel took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes as hard as he could before turning to the others.

“We’re going to have to put an x on a map using these coordinates… and we need to make some calls around the government on the east, see what we can find out about their pet project.  Charge, Herald, I need you both with me.”

Ortega lifted his gaze to Steel. “I’m staying with him! I’m not losing him again!”

“Well I don’t plan to do that either! You’re have contacts that we need right now Ortega!  People are more likely to answer if it’s Charge asking. And Herald, everyone knows your voice. I have no idea who will or won’t be willing to tell us anything but if we can convince at least someone it could mean…”

“Alright alright, I get it!” Herald said

Charge reluctantly walked with them.

“Good. Argent… stay with Mortum and learn EVERYTHING you can about brain implants he can teach to you in the next hour”

“Done” she nodded slowly.

“And Mortum… , make sure to do whatever you can to have Cyrus in the best walking and thinking conditions you can within the hour”

Mortum nodded as well. He did love a challenge.

__________________________________

(The Farm exterior, Nevada desert)

“No! No no! Please don’t take me back! Please! Don’t!”

“Cyrus, please! It’s me! We’re just trying to help you!” Ortega, in his blue nanoranger suit tried to comfort him as he and Argent who was also wearing her nanoranger armor dragged him onwards.  

“I won’t go back! Please don’t make me go back, Ricardo! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything but please...”

It was painful. The teleportation had not been the best since they didn’t know the exact spot where the entrance was located. Still, they made quite good progress.

Cyrus had been acutely coherent most of the way. He even understood the mission and asked to go along -again-. He shared a lot of insight about the farm, but once they came upon a certain distance he just fixated on the building’s facade going blank for a split second before turning batshit crazy, hallucinating about the farm having captured him again. And with the way they were forced to drag him, it certainly looked that way.

Mortum told them it would pass momentarily, that the nanites would correct the imbalance eventually, but It was breaking mettle Ortega’s by the second.

“Do we have to bring him?” he asked.

“We need him. We have no idea what security systems there’ll be down there. And he escaped the place twice!” Argent spoke as they kept marching on.

“But… it’s hurting him”

“I know, but if we can’t find what we’re looking for…” she didn’t finish the sentence as they walked towards the building, following Steel and Herald close by.

Eventually, Cyrus quieted down as promised regaining some resemblance of normality and started walking of his own accord.

“I’m sorry… it’s just… “ he apologized

“I know… I know”  Ortega said “We’re about to enter… can you use your Henshin bracer?”

He looked clueless for a second before remembering what he meant.

“Yes… I think so?”

“Use it… armor will keep you safer.”

The others kept going forward as Ortega helped him change into the black ranger.

“What’s that?” Herald asked about a strange mound in the sand. Steel squinted his eyes at it… then engaged his enhanced sight modes. He instantly froze, going over similar mounds all around them”

“What is it?” Argent asked as they finally caught up.

The red ranger kicked one of them, revealing a corpse, buried under the sand. USA military gear, wearing the Special Directive’s logo.

“I guess this answers why there’s no one to meet us...” he said grimmly, as they reached the stairs that led to the first gate. Or what was left of it.   

___________________________________

My Fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero 

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[lavywinchester]

Helping Hand - Part 5

Dean Winchester x Castiel (AU)

Warnings: mention and description of seizures, angst, light fluff.

Master List

Cas grabbed a cart and pulled out a small list from his pants pocket. “Okay, I need milk, cereal, eggs, and some ideas for meals.” Cas peered up at Dean, who nodded back. It was weird for him to be grocery shopping with someone else or having to think about another person’s tastes. Once Cas had moved out on his own, away from his family, he had never lived with anyone else. So, this whole spending weeks with someone constantly was very foreign. But, it was Dean, and something about that made it easier to swallow.

“Well, let’s get what we know we need, then we can browse for more options.” Cas’ stomach fluttered at Dean’s choice of words. We. It sounded to natural coming from him. Sure, he was probably just thinking about what the two of them needed while Dean cared for Cas, before he can go back to his normal life. Everything just seemed so blurry, confusing.

“One percent or two?” Dean asked, opening the glass door of the dairy aisle. Cas blinked his eyes, then peered up at Dean.

“Uh, two percent,” he answered with a smile.

“Quart or gallon?”

“So many questions,” Cas chuckled, watching Dean disappear behind the foggy glass door. “Gallon, since there are two of us.” Cas could see Dean smile at his answer, even through the foggy door. Cas thought it was crazy, but there was something oddly… intimate about being there with Dean. Even the simple task of getting groceries felt like their lives were mingled in another way. Cas chuckled to himself as he watched Dean walk off towards the eggs, clutching Cas’ list in his hands. A very small part of Cas thought he could get used to that sight.

But, in reality, Cas new that this wouldn’t be the norm for long. Just a few weeks, if all went according to plan and his health cooperated.

“I’m guessing you want twelve?” Dean asked, inspecting each egg for cracks. “These look good,” Dean announced with a smile.

“Twelve is great,” Cas replied. “I forgot to write down coffee on the list. If we’re both drinking it, we’ll go through it faster.” Dean nodded.

“Any preference?”

“The one in the bright orange bag, already ground. I know, I should be more of a coffee snob. But, I’m just not.” Cas huffed a tiny laugh as he followed Dean down the coffee aisle. “I’m more of a creature of habit.”

Dean laughed and shook his head, grabbing the coffee Cas described. “It’s much better shit than I buy for my place. I usually get whatever is cheapest and just use a little more than it says to.” Dean glanced up at Cas, his green eyes shining in the artificial light. Cas stared for a moment, getting lost in the tiny brown freckles covering his cheeks. “That’s why I like to stop at this little place in town a few times a week. I like to treat myself to some real coffee.” Dean winked, then turned down the aisle, still clutching Cas’ list. Cas just stood there for a moment, his heart racing as his mind came to one single thought.

He was falling for Dean.

 *

 Dean huffed as he passed through Cas’ door, four grocery bags on each arm. His forearms ached as the thin plastic handles dug into his flesh, his sleeves offering no protection. Cas shuffled right behind him, one bag in each hand and a scowl on his face.

The moment Dean practically dropped all of the bags onto the dining table, Cas huffed, rolling his eyes. “Dean, I told you I could have handled a few more.”

Dean turned to him, his face flushed. “Doctor said… no strenuous activity,” he puffed. “But, you can help me put everything away.” Dean smiled as he slowly unloaded the bags. He snagged a couple of the snacks he had bought himself and set them on the table. “I can bring these over to my place if there is no room.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “I think there will be plenty of room, Dean.” Dean couldn’t help but smile. He knew there was enough space for the two of them, for the next few weeks, but he still didn’t want to intrude on Cas’ life.

Cas let out a deep sigh, scanning over the plethora of food. “How about you keep putting this away while I make us something?” he volunteered, grabbing the package of stew meat and a few bags of veggies.

“You have been cooking for me this whole time. I am happy to make something,” Dean offered, grabbing several cans and walking over to the pantry. Cas shook his head at the other man, offering a sweet smile.

“I have a good recipe for beef stew. It’s super awesome, and I have everything I need for it. It’s good weather for something warm. It’s going to rain tonight.” Cas smiled over at Dean, who returned the gesture.

“That sounds awesome.” Dean nodded and gathered the rest of the groceries while Cas grabbed what he needed.

*

If Dean had it his way, he would have Cas cook for him for every meal of every day. Dean finished off two bowls before finally calling it good, hoping there would be enough left over for lunch the next day. Cas had enough as well, taking both of their bowls to the sink and rinsing them.

“Do you want to find something to watch?” Cas asked as he entered back into the living room. Dean smiled and nodded, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning on the TV. The first thing that popped up was a relatively new episode of The Walking Dead, making Dean smile. He hadn’t caught up with the latest season, since it wasn’t on Netflix yet. He, unlike Cas, didn’t have cable. He honestly didn’t have a whole lot of time to watch TV. But, there were a few shows that he liked to stay caught up on, and that was one of them.

“Hey, do you like zombie movies? This show is actually pretty good. I’ve watched most of it.” Cas leaned over, then plopped down beside Dean.

“I’ve never seen it, but I was a fan of Dawn of the Dead. And the comedy spoof with those British actors. That was really funny. I’m not usually into anything gory, but I like a good plotline.”

Dean smiled. “This has a pretty good plot line, and really awesome characters. You wanna watch it from the beginning? It’s on Netflix.” Dean smiled over at Cas, who was sitting a little closer than usual.

Cas nodded with a smile. “Sure. Maybe just one or two episodes. I’m getting pretty tired.” Dean tilted his head as he glanced down at his watch. It was only seven-thirty. Weird. Cas had gotten a good amount of sleep. But, his doctor did say that the medication could make him drowsy.

“One episode. Then, we’ll see how you feel.” Dean smiled as Cas nodded in agreement.

“One episode,” Cas repeated. Dean pulled the show up on Netflix, then pressed play. Then, he leaned back, leaning his body a little towards Cas. Cas’ shoulder was nearly flush with Dean’s, but neither of them moved. Dean liked being this close to Cas. Honestly, he wanted to reach out and pulled him closer. But, he also didn’t want to break any boundaries without talking about what had happened earlier that day. Ignoring it like they were didn’t seem to solve anything. But, for what Dean could tell, this wasn’t the time to talk about it either.

So, the two men sat there and stared at the screen. Halfway through the episode, Dean glanced back at Cas, then frowned. Cas’ eyes weren’t fixed on the TV. They were staring at the wall just left of the TV, locked on something that Dean couldn’t see. Cas face was noticeably pale compared to even a few minutes ago, and his body was completely still.

“Cas? Is everything okay?” Dean asked quietly. He paused the show, which seemed to go unnoticed by the man beside him. Cas continued to stare, then blinked while sucking in a deep breath.

“I have a headache,” Cas answered bluntly. Dean’s eyes shot open even wider as he turned to Cas.

“Do you need to lay down?” Dean asked, doing a poor job of hiding the fear and worry in his voice. Cas turned to Dean. But, before the man could get another word out, his eyes fluttered and he slipped from his spot on the couch, crashing to the floor. “Cas!” Dean shouted as he followed the man to the hardwood floor.

Cas’ body quickly went stiff, his eyes flicking back and forth before finally rolling back just a little. Shit, he was having another seizure. Dean quickly reached up and turned off the TV, trying to minimize the light surrounding Cas like the doctor instructed. As Cas convulsed on the floor, Dean knelt beside him. He knew he needed to keep his distance and let Cas work through it, making sure he didn’t hurt himself in the process. But, it was a hard thing to watch.

With the first one, Dean was so hopped up on the adrenaline from the scene that what he actually saw never fully sank in. But, this time was different. He knew from Cas’ doctor that Cas didn’t need to go to the hospital unless he had more than three in an hour, or if it took an unusually long time to wake up. Dean wanted to reach out and hold him close, to take his hand and whisper that everything was going to be okay. But, he couldn’t do that. All he could do was sit there and pray that it would be over soon.