#4 years and i have not cracked it once. protected by my ugly as hell phone case GODBLESS

[beebfreeb]

like yeah my phone doesnt function once its below 60% battery and my entire family is begging me to get a new one, but i am NOT doing that. you do NOT understand our warriors bond.

[helliontherapscallion]

Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it. 

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends. 

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart. 

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years. 

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same. 

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin. 

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence. 

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony. 

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed. 

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living. 

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again. 

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it. 

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that. 

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again. 

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him. 

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears. 

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book. 

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails." 

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down. 

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed. 

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly. 

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here." 

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying." 

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred. 

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks. 

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury. 

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move. 

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting." 

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top. 

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks. 

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few. 

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so. 

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief. 

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading. 

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks. 

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive. 

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks. 

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?" 

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void. 

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this." 

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you." 

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace. 

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you. 

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing. 

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him." 

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen. 

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void. 

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying. 

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors. 

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible? 

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless. 

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air. 

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?" 

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?" 

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?" 

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance. 

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me." 

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded. 

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just- 

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss. 

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto- 

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve. 

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition. 

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice. 

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years. 

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.” 

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.” 

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.” 

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur. 

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

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

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay. 

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost. 

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears. 

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement. 

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!” 

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands. 

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.” 

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person. 

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right? 

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy. 

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes. 

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot. 

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust. 

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy. 

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin. 

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction. 

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

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@twitchchatvroom  @parkeepingparker

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

I saw in your tags that there’s some old destiel fic you like on ffn. Do you have any recs ? :)

omg I haven’t been on there in years! like last time I read anything on there was like in 2014 lmao xD

32 fics total - I just checked and all of them are still up...there’s like 30+ more that I bookmarked that isn’t on the list cuz I’m not sure if they’re destiel fics or not so I gotta re-read them

all the ones below are fics that I’ve recced before in the past

1. All Angels Need Their Wings - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,784 (2012)

Dean never thought that Castiel would ever return. And when he did, he came in a very unexpected way, a very horrifying way. SLASH Castiel/Dean. Wing-Kink. Takes place in season 7. AU.

2. Heart Trouble - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 74,320 (2011)

Dean's having a harder and harder time of denying what he feels for a certain blue-eyed friend of his. And it's making him a little ornery, and a lot confused.

3. It Hurts - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 29,963 (2013)

Inspired by the S9 Trailer Cas had watched the angels fall and with them, his self worth. Now human facing the challenges of navigating mortality he also tries to find a place for himself in this new world. It is a hope he has to find without the Winchesters, without Dean. So now he runs, from both Heaven, Hell and from Dean. 

4. Small Problem - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 13,310 (2011)

A cursed artifact has made Castiel miniature, it's amusing for the Winchesters at first until they realize he might stay that way forever. Slash Dean/Castiel Please R&R

5 My Broken Angel - RATING: M | LENGTH: 24,999 (2010)

When Castiel disappears from his vessel, Dean is concerned. But when Castiel reappears and seems to avoid him, Dean is heartbroken. Set mid-season 5. 

6. A Hand - RATING: M | LENGTH: 23,474 (2010)

Dean/Cas, multichapter, slight AU. Dean's busy trying to re-soulify his brother, but Cas needs help. Maybe it's time Dean gave it to him. Ch. 15: Dean glared indignantly. "I find the term 'lovebirds' to be offensive. We prefer to be called 'sex-falcons.'" 

7. Saving Grace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 38,602 (2010)

With everything that was going wrong in Dean's life, it took him a while to realize that the person close to him that really needed the most help was Castiel. 

8. Candy - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 98,068 (2013)

The Fall from Heaven changed everything. The supernatural no longer hidden. Angels roaming the planet. Sam and Dean's immediate concerns were on a smaller scale. What do you do with the former King of Hell? Where is Castiel?... Destiel/Mute!Human!Cas/Angst!Dean

9. Dude, Dean Looks Like a Lady - RATING: M | LENGTH: 20,774 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

Sam's good, Cas has been found, and demons everywhere seem to be on hiatus. Seems like things are looking up for Team Free Will that is until Dean wakes up with his very own vagina anyway. Warnings: Fem!Dean, Destiel, female masturbation and S8 spoilers.

10. Evil Intent, Trials of Love, & Finding My Angel - RATING: NC-17 | LENGTH: 36,729, 70,453, & 59,941 *rape, graphic torture, violence* (2009)

Anna rapes Castiel and uses a method that torments him more than anything imaginable. WARNING: Rape and Castiel/Dean makes sense when you read it . If you don't like then don't read!

11. Cascade - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 (2013)

"And if you fall as Lucifer fell, you fall in flames!" An 8x23 coda. 

12. Count The Cracks, Hear The Shatters, Feel The Insanities - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 44,626 *gen/pre-slash* (2013)

They've walked miles on gravel roads that led to hell and back but the journey never quite ends. This is the story of Castiel and the Winchesters after the angels fell from heaven. Post Season 8. 

13. Damn Straight & Wait Wait Wait - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: about 21,000 (2010)

Humorous Cas/Dean, with multiple POVs. Slight AU. Fluffy. Ch. 5: Sam sat in the Impala in the motel parking lot, praying that three and a half hours at the library had been long enough.

14. Entertaining Angels - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 43,659 *gen/pre-slash* (2008)

A strange boy shows up at Dean and Sam’s motel room. Maybe he needs help, or maybe he’s there to help them—they can’t quite tell. Spoilers through 4.10. Not an OC. 

15. Happy Friggin’ Valentine’s Day - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 22,771 (2010)

SLASH. It all started with Dean's perfectly healthy hatred of frivilous holidays and a much-coveted sack of dust. Poor Castiel doesn't fully understand 'romance' to begin with, and this crash course is most unwelcome. 

16. I’m Just a Love Machine - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 29,200 (2011)

The Impala finally gets the chance to love Dean back. The problem is, Castiel seems to be in its way. 

17. It’s The Great Destiel Shipper, Sam Winchester - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 49,641 (2012)

What's Sam really doing all that time on the computer? Fangirling. Over Chuck's Supernatural books. Now Wincest might be a bit too much to deal with, but Destiel he might be able to get on board with... Especially after being around the two people involved for three days straight. 

18. Pain in the Head - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 78,771 *character death* (2011)

It started out slow. "Since when do angels have headaches?" "Since they become human." Established Dean/Cas. Sort of AU. PG-13. Complete. 

19. Sleep in Heavenly Peace - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 45,517 *christmas fic* (2013)

Dean wants to have a nice, peaceful Christmas for once, but it seems like the universe won't let him. Dean/Castiel. Post-8.08 (Hunteri Heroici) AU. First in "Holidays With the Winchesters are Always Fun." 

20. The Shattered One - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 94,021 *grace mpreg* (2012)

When it struck Castiel, it dropped him out of the sky. He set down the first place he could find. He stood in a field in Switzerland, swaying on his feet and staring down at his body, dazed by what it had just done.

21. This Cupid Isn’t Stupid - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 41,572 (2012)

Dean receives a shock when he wakes up to discover Castiel has returned. Why is the angel suddenly back? Why have his powers dimmed? And.. Why are he and Dean joined together by an invisible rope!

22. Wild Horses, Cas - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 23,505 (2013)

(S8 Spoilers (story is set in S9), Sickfic! Destiel, Minor Sabriel). When Cas comes down with a bad case of Pneumonia it leaves Dean feeling more protective over his friend than ever, but will it also lead to Dean's admittance of his feelings towards his friend? 

23. Wrong - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 51,384 (2010)

Angels are not supposed to drop out of the sky into motel rooms, broken and beaten. They're not supposed to bleed like that. It was all wrong. 

24. The Reluctant Contestant - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 50,502 (2012)

AU When Gabriel is hired as a new host for a dating show, Cas has no choice but to follow his brother along as part of the camera crew. Forced at the last minute to be a contestant, he is shocked when Dean Winchester continually refuses to eliminate him. 

25. The Ugly Duckling - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 81,676 (2012)

Castiel: a nerdy, skinny thing with a crush on the the most popular guy in class. Being unpopular isn't easy and it's worse when the homophobic school figures him out. A small struggle to be noticed by his crush is turned into a huge struggle for himself and his dignity. But bullying can get the better of anyone. Slash. Destiel rated M for later chapters. 

26. Nameless - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 77,882 (2013)

AU. Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist at birth. Well, everyone except Dean Winchester. Complete. 

27. Cufflinks - RATING: M | LENGTH: 61,845 (2012)

The world is full of creatures that prey on humans. It is up to 'Hunters' to fight against the dark. Lucky Hunters rely on the help of angels they have bound to their service. Sam and Dean may be good Hunters, but they have yet to capture an angel. One day, Sam finds an angel and seizes the opportunity to bind the angel to himself. Little did they know what they were getting into. 

28. Angel Training - RATING: M | LENGTH: 95,700, Angel Training 2: Save Us - RATING: M | LENGTH: 76,888, & Angel Training 3: Uprising - RATING: M | LENGTH: 89,512 (2011)

In a world where angels are common and the most privileged or skilled people are able to own one; the world's angelic hierarchy is about to change when Dean Winchester receives a wild and recently caught angel.

29. Chasing Your Shadow - RATING: M | LENGTH: 92,077 (2012)

The prophecy says that when Castiel turns twenty-three winters old, a stranger will come into his life and bring a lot of suffering. But do prophecies always come true? Demon Dean/human Castiel AU 

30. The Holiday - RATING: M | LENGTH: 32,088 (2011)

Castiel and Sam are unlucky in both life and love, so they swap houses for the holidays. Both find the experience highly...interesting. Dean/Castiel Sam/Gabriel

31. And In Your Arms I Shall Find Shelter- RATING: M | LENGTH: 33,824 (2012)

Dean Winchester is a long forgotten painter who suddenly receives an order for a painting from a rich man - Crowley. He is about to start painting when Castiel - his personal reaper visits him. The main question is: Will Castiel give Dean enough time to finish the painting? 

32. Jar of Hearts - RATING: PG-13 | LENGTH: 127,192 (2013)

February being the supposed 'month of love' people seem to forget that it's also one of the coldest times of the year. Valentine's Day themed events in a cafe turned bar is how Dean managed the courage to speak to the locally famous singer and somehow score a date, a relationship, and a man he didn't deserve out of the deal. Destiel college/uniAU some Sabriel 

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

The Next One’s on You 4/5

This one is going to hurt. I’m sorry. Here is chapter four: Champagne. Thank you so much for your support. I love every reblog, comment, and like.  Pairing: Maxwell Lord x F! Reader 

Warning: 18 + for language, mentions of pregnancy, toxic relatives  Taglist: @josepedropascal @mrschiltoncat @mrsparknuts @ghostwiththemostbitch @zannemes @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta​ @maxlordsgf​ 

My Masterlist 

Chapter Four: Champagne 

From the outside the coffee shop looks closed for the evening, the neon's are off, the chairs are up, and all is quiet. Except for the light bleeding from under the door that leads to the back room. There you sit, on the cold freshly mopped tile in the most expensive dress you could ever imagine. Heels kicked off, knees pulled up to your chest, and head down. You slowly raise your head and see your face reflected off the walk in across the room. A diamond headband in your hair, curls falling out of the once elegant up-do, and mascara running down your cheeks. This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but it’s quickly become the worst. 

Becoming a figure in the public eye was never part of your ideal life plan. But, falling in love with Maxwell Lord IV and becoming his future wife, did not leave you with much of a choice. When he made the announcement at the next public event the press went crazy. Tearing apart every inch of your life with tweezers, paying old friends, roommates, people you had gone to school with for even a smidge of gossip. They were ruthless and hounded you all hours of the day from the moment you stepped outside your home and then all the way to work. At the coffee shop business was booming and every day you felt like the new animal at the zoo. Everyone coming to stick their ugly faces against the glass and ooh and ahh at the barista who had managed to ensnare Maxwell Lord.

They weren’t interested in who you were as a person or even how you had fallen in love. Because stuff like that, it doesn’t sell papers. Luckily, your fianc�� had been navigating the press for years and knew how to keep them off your tail in your private life. Shielding you from them in the comfort of your own home and helping him plan the ‘wedding of the century.’ Maxwell hired a wedding planner that he thought would get along with you and thankfully Juliet was perfect. She was organized, professional, and knew exactly what you wanted.

Yes, it wasn’t the small intimate wedding you had always hoped for but at least it wasn’t gaudy. Invitations had been sent out, food ordered, floral arrangements chosen, cake sampled, everything was going according to plan. Even going dress shopping with your mother, and grandmother had been perfect. Finding an eggshell colored dress with no train and small puffs on the sleeves. The salesgirl had placed a diamond headband in your hair holding the veil in place and giggled telling you it was sent over by Mr. Lord as a wedding present. The headband was white gold and had leaves encrusted with diamonds that shimmered in the light.

The big day was fast approaching, and thankfully Mrs. Lord the former was nowhere in sight. Although it didn’t leave you with a good feeling in your stomach, she had been too quiet. 

On your wedding day you woke up bright and early, Juliet bringing you breakfast in bed and going over the schedule for the day. You sipped a cup of coffee and smiled just letting her talk. When she was finished a team of stylists came in and got you ready. Manicure, pedicure, massage, makeup, and an elegant up-do, you glowed from the attention. When the dress was lifted over your head and cinched into place your breath caught in the mirror at your reflection. Fingers tracing over the fabric soft under your fingers and fitting just perfectly. They slid the diamond headband in place, and you wiped quickly at the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Oh honey,” you turn and laugh as your father cries watching you, “you’re so beautiful.” You hold out your arms and hug him and he squeezes you tight. Juliet ushers the two of you down and to the limo to take you to the cathedral. The only church big enough for all the guests you had been forced to invite. When you step from the limo you feel like Princess Diana on the television and give a small wave to the growing crowds. Fingers digging into your fathers’ arm as he confidently leads you forward. Inside are your roommates and friends Michael and Robin acting as your bridesmaid/man. They are ushered down the aisle to the wedding march and your dad takes a deep breath leading you.

Your steps are slow and sure as you pass the elegant floral arrangements of white roses. The petals lining the aisle as you smile at some of the familiar faces. When you look up your breath is sucked out and you beam at your husband to be. Wearing a tuxedo and a hint of a familiar pocket square sticking out. He’s perfect, and smiling so brightly he rivals the sun, as he watches you glide toward him. 

You reach out to grab his hand and feel it tighten around your own. His eyes glassy with unshed tears as he smiles at you. Not the fake one from the television but the one he reserves just for you, warm and so full of love. You beam right back at him and mouth I love you before turning to the officiant. You choose not to write your own vows instead following along with the usual lines. Saving your vows for when you’re alone later. When he comes to ask for objections your smile dims as the sound of heels clacking on the floor directs your attention to the aisle.

Mrs. Lord in a white chanel suit is stalking towards you with a sneer. Maxwell moves to stand in front of you when the doors at the back of the church open and in walks….Tom? Your sleazy date from the first night with Maxwell is strutting confidently up the aisle wearing a tuxedo and smiling broadly, coming to stand beside Maxwell’s mother.

“Hi baby,” he coos at you and you shudder.

“What is the meaning of this?” Maxwell hisses clearly angry.

“I have come to bring an end to this sorry excuse for a wedding. My son,” she turns to the crowd like the detective in the novels you read does before unraveling the great mystery, “has been tricked by this little harlot! She has been part of a plot to steal my son’s money and company from the beginning!” She turns to gesture at Tom. “Thomas here told me of her scheme. One year ago, she hired him to pretend to be her date and take advantage of her. She knew my son would be at the restaurant and wanted him to come to her aid.”

“That’s absolute bullsh-“ you're cut off as Michael steps forward.

“It’s true! She asked if I knew anyone she could use as a date to trap some rich guy, I never knew she meant Maxwell Lord,” he points at you and your heart beats loudly in your ears watching one of your oldest friends lie to your face.

“I was there that night, the night she needed to be ‘rescued’ she was all over my son and straddling him on the couch, sure didn’t look like someone who just needed comfort to me!” she shrieks, and several people scoff in outrage although at who it isn’t clear.

She continues on and on making more outlandish claims and each time you go to defend yourself another of your friends, coworkers, or even acquaintances would step forward and collaborate with her. Until you are in tears and Maxwell is withdrawing further and further away from you. The room goes silent as she makes the biggest claim of all, “AND I know she is pregnant! The little bitch is trying to claim my son is the father of her bastard child!”

Maxwell frozen turns to stare at you and your mouth drops open a hand coming to quickly cover it as the tears stream down your cheeks. From the back of the room another voice speaks out, “I can confirm it! She had the appointment two weeks ago, and I performed the ultrasound myself.” The technician from your doctor’s office steps forward holding out a black and white photograph.

Maxwell stares at it and then turns back to you, “Is it true?” he whispers voice cracking.

“Maxwell-“ you reach for him and he takes a step back.

“Is it mine?” he shouts, and you tremble, lip wobbling as you bite down hard enough to taste the tang of blood in your mouth.

“How can you even ask me that? Of course, it’s yours,” your voice quivers and he scoffs.

“Because it seems like everyone you know, is accusing you of sleeping around with fucking Tom!” he shouts, and you take a step back hand protectively covering your stomach.

He glares at you and you take a step back, “Were you going to tell me?” he begs, “That the baby isn’t mine?!”

Your voice cracks, “It is yours! I haven’t been with anyone else Maxwell, you know this!” you shout sobs swelling in your chest. All the guests watching the drama unfold. 

“Another lie!” his mother shouts, stalking over to Maxwell and whispering in his ear like the snake that tempted Eve. “She only wants to take your money, everything that you have worked so hard to build. All of your success will be hers. She doesn’t love you.” 

Your heart splinters as he nods and drops his head, she turns to you grinning. “I think it’s time for you to leave, you are not welcome here anymore.” 

“Maxwell,” you cry reaching for him but he is far away from you now. You hold your head up high and glare at the people who stepped forward. “How fucking dare you,” you say low and threatengly, “some of them taking a step back at the venom in your voice. You walk down the steps slowly and hold up a hand as your family tries to rush you, walking towards a smirking Tom you rear your fist back. It makes a satisfying crunch as you break his nose.

Shaking your hand as it stings and he curses at you from the ground, “Fucking bitch!” 

“Go to hell you lying son of a bitch! If you ever get near me or my child, I will have you arrested,” you storm out of the church blood boiling stomach sour. As you slam open the doors to the waiting area, a waiter for the cocktail hour passes and you crash into him. Coating you in champagne as he quickly apologizes begging for forgiveness.  You're too upset to even notice and when you open the doors of the church the press go nuts. Cameras flashing, you race toward the limo. Jeeves the driver, holding the door open as you dive inside, slamming it closed behind you. He quickly climbs into the driver's seat, and the tires squeal as he drives away. 

“Mrs. Lord, what happened?” You sob into your hands and try to catch your breath. 

“I didn’t become Mrs. Lord,” you mumble and he stays silent just driving until you’ve calmed down enough to give him directions. The night is dark and you make your way across town. You have nowhere to go. You live with Maxwell and your former friends and roommate betrayed you. “Jeeves?” he looks into the rearview in sympathy, “take me to work please,” your voice is soft and he nods turning the limo toward the coffee shop. He pulls up out front and you quickly wave him off as you get out of the car and stumble towards the door. Giselle is locking up for the evening and freezes upon seeing you. Quickly rushing to the door and letting you inside. You collapse in her arms and she lets you spill everything, running her hand up and down your back. 

The wedding, Maxwell’s mother, Tom, Michael, the baby...all of it comes pouring out. When you're spent and your eyes have no more tears you haul yourself off the floor and push into the backroom. Giselle follows and you ask for the keys, “I’ll lock the door when I leave just...please let me stay.” She nods and hugs you tightly again before grabbing her purse and sliding out the side door. You lock in behind you and lean against the door sliding to the floor. 

From the outside the coffee shop looks closed for the evening, the neons are off, the chairs are up, and all is quiet. Except for the light bleeding from under the door that leads to the back room. There you sit, on the cold freshly mopped tile in the most expensive dress you could ever imagine. Heels kicked off, knees pulled up to your chest, and head down. You slowly raise your head and see your face reflected off the walk in across the room. A diamond headband in your hair, curls falling out of the once elegant up-do, and mascara running down your cheeks. This was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but it quickly became the worst. 

You place your hands protectively over your stomach, rubbing gently. Oh fuck...what have we gotten ourselves into now…

The rasp of knuckles sounds at the back door. 

[arashikitten]

Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver- Part one

This is a collection of the first three chapters for my fic, “Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver”, as celebration for me finally getting an ao3 account! Thank you to everyone who has read this fic, chapter 4 is coming along! Without further ado, here’s Of Molten Gold and Frozen Silver part 1.

   When Qi Xiaotian had gone to Flower Fruit Mountain that morning, he’d gone expecting either brutal sparring, grueling physical labor, or, if Sun Wukong was feeling particularly lazy, an hour or so of meditation.

   He had not been expecting to find Sun Wukong hunched over in pain, gripping his head and snarling like a wild animal. He also hadn’t expected to see a familiar bluish-white smoke slowly circling the Monkey king, accompanied by the very worrying sound of small, whispering voices that seemed to fill up the cave. Qi Xiaotian felt ice settle into his veins. He recognized this, he’d seen this before, just a week prior.

   Baigujing. The White Bone spirit.

   He should’ve run. The moment he’d seen the white smoke, he should’ve booked it to the hills, rushed back to the city to sound the alarm for everyone, to save as many people as possible from the oncoming rampage.

   But… he couldn’t. Sun Wukong, his mentor, his idol, was in trouble. He needed help, and Qi Xiaotian would be damned if he didn’t at least try to do something. Slowly, carefully, he reached out toward the shaking Monkey King.

   “Sun Wukong? Hey, um, are… are you-“

   “Run.” Qi Xiaotian froze, the air leaving his lungs as terror flooded his veins like ice. Wukong’s voice was raspy, tight with pain, and each syllable trembled in the musty air of the cave. This thing- this demon, it was hurting his mentor, and Xiaotian felt his heart wrench at the notion. He needed to help.

   “Wukong-“

   “Xiaotian, you need to run. I can’t… I can’t hold Baigujing back for much longer. It’s way...way stronger than before, I won’t last long. I thought, thought that I could handle it, but…” the monkey king gasped as his knees gave out, sending him to the hard stone floor. Qi Xiaotian rushed forward, even as Wukong began to growl like a rabid animal, tail lashing back and forth like an irate cat. He reached forward, almost touching Sun Wukong, when-

   “STAY BACK!” A pale gold force rippled out from the monkey king’s form, sending Xiaotian flying back. He winced as he slowly began to push himself up, a twinge of pain in his side confirming the presence of a quickly-forming bruise. He looked up at his mentor, questions on his tongue-

   When he finally saw Sun Wukong’s face. And every muscle, every nerve ending, went cold as terror crashed full-force into him like a tsunami, sending him plunging into the waves, too disoriented to know which way was up even as he was drowning in fear.

   Dark, empty shadows obscured to top half of Wukong’s face, leaving Xiaotian unable to see the familiar golden glow of his eyes. The bottom half of his face, the part Xiaotian could see, was pale and washed out, appearing a dusky gray-purple like that of a corpse. His mouth was twisted in an ugly snarl, sharp teeth glinting in the dim light of the cave. But that wasn’t what scared Qi Xiaotian.

   No, the thing that scared Qi Xiaotian was the singular, glowing blue eye that pierced through the shadows of the Monkey King’s face, pale smoke leaking from the outer corner like tears. And, despite the cruel snarl and the tense, aggravated posture…

   That eye was shining with fear. Sun Wukong… was scared.

   Sun Wukong. Who had fought countless demons. Sun Wukong, who had thwarted death countless times, becoming immortal four times over in the process. Sun Wukong, who had gone up against the entire Court of Heaven, and was only stopped by the Buddha himself. Sun Wukong, who was strong enough to lift an entire mountain with ease.

   Sun Wukong, who had saved his life…

   Was afraid. Was terrified of whatever was trying to take over his body, trying to trap him in his own mind. His mentor, his powerful, wise, unflappable mentor was scared, and Xiaotian could only watch in horror as he began to succumb to the demon.

   “Kid… listen… to me. You… you need to- to run. Go- go and warn the others. Please, before… before it’s too late.” Gods, Wukong sounded so desperate, so terrified, and it made Xiaotian’s heart crack in his chest. His throat felt tight as he held back a sob, praying to whoever was listening to please, please put a stop to this, please don’t let this be happening.

   “Sun Wukong, please, no…” it came out a whisper, trembling with unshed emotion.

   “Kid… run. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to- to hurt you. Not when… not when you’ve done… so much for- for me. Please. Run.” Qi Xiaotian gasped softly as he saw tears slowly trail down the Monkey King’s face, even as he could see the traces of his mentor began to leave that one blue eye…

   And suddenly Wukong’s face relaxed, a small fond smile taking it’s place over the snarl, that glowing blue eye filling with affection and kindness and love-

   Xiaotian’s breath stuttered as he stepped back. His eyes burned with tears that he refused to let fall, trembling hands covering his mouth as he began to sob. Wukong cared about him, cared about him not just as his successor, but his-

   Xiaotian turned and ran as fast as he could, eyes screwed shut against the pain and wind as he finally let his tears fall.

   Sun Wukong watched him go, smile filling with relief. And even as the White Bone spirit finally won, even as pain flooded every nerve ending, even as his heart started to shatter…

   He knew his kid was safe.

————————————————————————

   Sun Wukong was falling. He had been for a while now, the pitch dark that surrounded him obscuring any view of a potential floor or walls or anything. At first it had scared him a bit, but now…

   Now it was just straight-up boring. One can only stare at nothing for so long before their mind begins to wander, and Wukong really didn’t want that to happen. Especially not after…

   Wukong felt the fur on the back of his neck raise as he flashed back to what happened in the cave. When the Baigujing had first appeared, he’d attempted to destroy it like he had over four millennia ago. It should’ve been easy.

   But… something had changed. The Baigujing had vanished as Wukong had attempted to strike it, only to reappear right behind him. He’d attempted to leap out of the way, to fly out of its reach.

   He hadn’t been fast enough. Before he could even turn his head, the White Bone spirit had flown into his chest, drenching him in ice that seemed to fill his lungs. His vision had become a haze of blue and white, blinding him while insidious little voices whispered in his ears all of his doubts and insecurities-

   And then the kid had shown up. His kid had shown up. He hadn’t even noticed until the kid’s voice had cut through the whispers, sounding worried and confused.

   He’d been terrified then, terrified that the White Bone spirit would take him over then and make him hurt his successor, hurt Qi Xiaotian. So he’d begged the boy to run, to warn everyone in the city to evacuate. Of course, the Baigujing hadn’t taken to kindly to that, and another surge of it’s power had sent him to his knees.

   He recalled, vividly, the raw overwhelming terror on Xiaotian’s face as he’d turned to face him, recalled with painful clarity how tears had begun to form in the kid’s eyes as he pleaded with Wukong, begging him not to go. And when he had realized the fear in the kid’s eyes wasn’t because he was afraid of him, but rather for him…

   Wukong grit his teeth as he remembered his final words to Xiaotian, and the feelings that had accompanied them. There was pain and fear, yes but- there was something else, something that was new to him. It had roared within him like a blazing fire, sending beams of light through his soul like a miniature sun, a sudden need to protect his kid-

   Wukong was jarred from the memory at that. His what? He’d called Qi Xiaotian his- his what?

   My kid, and there it was, that warm feeling in his chest that screamed at him to find Xiaotian and wrap him up in a blanket and protect- Sun Wukong blinked. When the hell had that happened? When had he become so attached? When had he stopped viewing Xiaotian as his successor, and started viewing him as his kid?

   Sun Wukong thought back. These feelings… they’d been strong during their last encounter in the cave, too strong to be entirely new. But he couldn’t remember any other-

   Wukong’s head shot up. The Macaque. When he’d seen Xiaotian being pinned to the mountain by his own staff, the Six-eared Macaque looming over him, he’d felt that rush of protective instinct roar within him, screeching at him to get the kid out of there, to get him to safety, to get him away from that monster-

   Wukong shook at the memory, Xiaotian’s look of terror and betrayal from that day had been burned into his retinas. He hated that look, hated that the kid had been subjected to that kind of terror not just once, but twice now.

   But most of all, Sun Wukong hated that both times, Xiaotian had been put in danger because of Wukong’s own shortcomings. His kid, his kid, had been put in life threatening danger, and Sun Wukong had either been almost too late, or the direct source of that danger.

   And now he was stuck here in this endless void, a prisoner in his own mind, unable to protect the one person in the world that he cares about.

   “Well, well, well. This is certainly new.” Wukong started, head whipping around to see-

   The Baigujing’s glowing blue-white eyes stared out at him from the darkness. It took the form of a thin, pale woman in a flimsy sheer white dress, light blue markings in the appearance of bones marring otherwise smooth, uniform skin.

   It looked like a corpse.

   The Baigujing grinned, mouth stretching far too wide, showing off it’s rotten gums. Wukong felt ice flood his insides.

   “I never took you for the fatherly type, but three thousand years is plenty of time for change. Although, I do have to wonder: why him, of all people? He’s so… immature. Easily distracted. Demanding. Sloppy. The kids… pathetic.”

   Fury burned in Wukong at the words. Yes, Xiaotian was a bit immature, and he didn’t have much in the way of an attention span, but he was a good kid. He was smart even if most people didn’t notice, and he had a drive unlike any that Wukong had ever seen. And Xiaotian was far, far from pathetic.

   However, the fire of rage was quickly doused by the cold realization: Baigujing knew.

   It knew about Qi Xiaotian (the protective feeling started to grow in his chest).

   It knew about his relationship to Qi Xiaotian (that feeling grew brighter, hotter in his lungs like a bonfire).

   And it knew that hurting Qi Xiaotian would break him (the feeling was overwhelming him, consuming every other thought until the only thing that mattered was Xiaotian Xiaotian Xiaotian Xiaotian-

   Sun Wukong was consumed by golden light that shattered the obsidian dark like a mirror, and the Baigujing flinched back to shield it’s eyes from the blinding light. It felt it’s will being pushed back by the Monkey King, his bright white light stinging the dark tendrils of it’s control.

   For just a moment, Wukong was able to see. For a split, vital moment, he was in control.

   A moment was all he needed. He knew he wouldn’t last long. Already he could feel the Baigujing starting to take back control, could feel himself slipping from his own mind. He needed to slow the Baigujing down, just enough for Xiaotian to get help.

   Enough so his kid could be safe. He would not let him down this time.

   Sun Wukong braced himself as he grabbed a sharp rock and raised it above his head.

   He could hear the whispers of the Baigujing now, getting louder and louder-

   He saw Qi Xiaotian’s face, looking up at him with a happy little smile, eyes shining with warmth and admiration in a memory long past-

   Wukong slammed the stone into his knee, snapping it in two, right as he slipped back into the obsidian void.

———————————————————————

   Red son restlessly paced the unfinished halls of the new lair, dark red coat silently fluttering as he did. It was a nervous habit of his, something he’d developed fairly recently, and he felt as if he might explode if he stopped.

   The events of the past week were still fresh on his mind, and now played a starring role in his nightmares whenever he tried to sleep.

   His father- his dear, beloved father- had attempted to kill him. His father, whom he was absolutely and unshakably loyal to, had called both him and his mother traitors. His father had called him weak. Useless. A disgrace. And even though Red son knew his father wasn’t in his right state of mind, even though he knew now that his father had been possessed…

   It had begun to plant these seeds of doubt in him. After all, he’d had yet to reclaim the staff from that infernal Noodle boy, and the few victories he had were only achieved with the help of his mother or father.

   He’d have yet to win a fight entirely on his own.

   The thought stung, more than Red Son was willing to admit.

   Then there was the actual fight. The one against the Demon Bull king. The one with Qi Xiaotian.

   Qi Xiaotian. The Noodle Boy. The one who currently wielded the Monkey King’s staff. He had crashed into Red Son’s life with all of the reckless force and chaos of an out-of-control freight train, upending all of his hard work with a practiced ease. He frustrated Red Son to no end, and yet at the same time, Red son had found himself anticipating every fight against the Noodle Boy with a giddy, childish excitement.

   Of course, he’d still hated him. Despised him for even thinking that he could stand up to the might of the Demon Bull family, regardless of whether or not he had the power and yes, fine, skill, to back it up. It was an insult, for a mere mortal to even consider the idea that they could even begin to compare to him, the great Red Son!

   But now, everything Red Son had felt toward the loud, excitable man had been thrown into turmoil. And the worst part was that, looking back, Red Son could tell that this wasn’t just from the team up against his father. No, these complex feelings had been there, as far as Red Son knew, since the race for the immortal peaches. They had just been overshadowed by frustration and his preconceived ideas about the Monkey King’s successor. The fight a week ago had simply brought these feelings to his attention, strengthening them in the process.

   Which, considering what exactly these feelings were, and who they were directed toward, was not good for Red’s already strained relationship with his parents.

   Red son blushed as he remembered the fight against the Demon Bull King. He and his mother were crouched in a fighting position, his mother summoning her massive fan and Red Son already calling flames to his fingertips. His father, locked in the possession of the Baigujing, had charged at them, roaring like a wild animal…

   Until Xiaotian, in true Noodle boy fashion, came careening full-speed smack-dab in the middle of the Bull King’s path, not unlike their first meeting. Red son, despite past experiences with Xiaotian literally dropping in on him and his family, had been surprised.

   He’d been even more surprised when, without even thinking about it, he’d sworn to fight alongside the very person he’d been trying to kill not one week prior. He hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t even been suspicious of Xiaotian at first. It had been a knee-jerk reaction, completely instinctual. That in itself was concerning, because his first, instinctual reaction to Noodle Boy showing up in their lair to fight his father should not be “let me help fight with you”, regardless of the circumstances. Granted, his mother had also agreed to help Xiaotian fight, but she clearly hadn’t been happy about it.

   Red son, on the other hand… despite his history with Xiaotian, despite their numerous past conflicts, despite the VERY IMPORTANT FACT THAT HE AND XIAOTIAN WERE SUPPOSED TO BE FUCKING ENEMIES, Red Son had felt his heart leap at the prospect of fighting next to the monkey kid, instead of against him. And he’d found that he’d actually really enjoyed fighting with Xiaotian, made even more alarming when, hours after the fact, Red son had found himself daydreaming about fighting alongside Xiaotian again, of sparring with him on the rooftops or in the mountains, of talking about old stories and myths and shows they like… of just being together.

   Of course, when Red Son finally caught himself, he’d denied absolutely everything, blaming it all on the leftover adrenaline and anticipation from the battle, telling himself that it was a one time thing, and nothing more.

   That argument had been torn to fucking pieces when, that night, Red son dreamt that he and Xiaotian had become friends, sparring together on the rooftops of the city and sitting together at a small cafe, chatting leisurely over coffee and tea. They had rented out a small apartment together, in between the old lair and that little noodle shop he knew Xiaotian worked at. In his dream, they had gone to the apartment and sat on a small, gold and red couch to watch some nonsensical movie. They had talked about something that Red son couldn’t remember, when suddenly he’d found the noodle boy leaning up against him, head resting on Red’s shoulder, fast asleep. It felt so… so normal, so calm and happy and warm, it felt like home. It made his heart race, made his stomach flutter like a hummingbird’s wings, and he couldn’t help the rising joy and affection and love-

   Red son had woken feeling more content than he had his entire life, and yet he still ached for more. Then he’d fully woken up, and that warm, brimming satisfaction was replaced with cold horror. This went beyond leftover adrenaline, beyond a stupid passing thought. This was real, this was serious. He liked Xiaotian, really liked him if that dream was anything to go by.

   But he couldn’t possibly like the Noodle boy like that: they were enemies, constantly fighting each other, constantly at odds. There was also the very important fact that Red son despised the Noodle Boy, and the noodle boy more than likely felt the same way about him.

   But even as Red son tried to argue, he knew that the first part, at least wasn’t true, and that it hadn’t been true since… since…

   Red son blanched. When had he stopped despising the noodle boy? When had the fiery, burning rage softened into something less, had become simple annoyance as opposed to withering vitriol? Most importantly, when in the fresh, ever loving fuck, did the idea of living with Qi Xiaotian become more appealing, more tantalizing, than the idea of ruling the world alongside his father and mother?

   It made no sense. How could he go from despising someone with every fiber of his being to… to… to whatever the fuck this was??? How could he go from wanting to from wanting to kill someone every time you saw them to wanting to live with them??? To wanting to spar with them, to wanting to go to coffee shops together, wanting to watch movies together, wanting to hold their hand and hug them and talk with them and….

   Red had been so caught up in his head, so caught up in his thoughts about the Monkey kid, that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been walking to his makeshift room until he was standing at his new desk (there were already some darkened scorch marks from when he’d caught himself daydreaming about Xiaotian again, as Red had caught himself wondering what it would feel like to kiss the spiky-haired younger man. The memory still brought a harsh flush to his cheeks.), holding a small messy sketch that he’d done a couple of days ago. It was of Xiaotian, who, in the sketch, had the staff leaning against his left shoulder, one hand in the pocket of that gaudy orange hoodie, and a wide, easy smile on his face.

   He’d hidden it in the small, hidden drawer on his new desk, to ensure that his mother didn’t find it. He’d been unable to bring himself to destroy it, and had taken to storing it in one of the pockets of his trench coat. He often found himself taking it out to stare at whenever he was feeling particularly stressed, or when he felt as though his parents were whispering about him behind his back, scorning him for being weak and a disappointment and-

   No, Red Son growled to himself. They do not hate you. They do not think that of you, they love you, they support you, they are proud of you. But there was still that doubt, that lingering fear that the Baigiujing had planted, and for some reason, that little, shoddy, rough sketch of someone that should only serve to inflame those feelings of inadequacy was now his main source of comfort.

   How strange, that his family was now the cause of his fear while his enemy was his source of comfort and warmth? But then again, Xiaotian had been turning Red son’s world on its head since that fateful day, when he’d fallen from the sky as though the Buddha himself had plucked him up by the hood of his hoodie and plopped him right into Red son’s life.

   Perhaps he had. After all, Xiaotian was the Monkey King's successor, and he’d shown up at the exact moment that the Demon Bull king had been freed, and the staff along with it.

   Red Son sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shoved the Xiaotian sketch into his coat pocket. Clearly, he’d been cooped up for too long.

   Perhaps a nice walk through the edge of the city would do him some good. Besides, what were the chances of him running into the noodle boy there?

—————————    —————————   —————————

   His lungs burned as he ran, heart pounding in time with his footfalls. He couldn’t stop though, not until everyone was safe. And that meant running with everything he had, if only so he could get to the city in time to warn of the incoming threat.

   Tears stung his eyes again at the thought. His mentor, his idol, had become a monster right in front of him. And the worst part, the worst part was that there was nothing that Xiaotian could’ve done to stop it. In that moment, he’d been nothing but a bystander, unable to do anything but sit by and watch as one of the most powerful beings in all of China, his mentor, was possessed by a demon.

   Gods, Wukong had been so scared in that moment. Xiaotian had seen the small tremble in his paws, the way he’d recoiled from Xiaotian’s touch like a wounded animal.

   And then there was the screaming. Xiaotian had gotten maybe 10 miles away from the mountain when it had started, loud and high and pained, a polyvocal screech that dipped between Wukong’s lower roars and the high raspy cries of the Baigujing. It had been close, too, no more than a few miles back, sending terror shooting through Xiaotian so hard and fast it had made him nauseous. He’d been rooted to the spot, eyes wide and hands clenched into trembling fists, tears starting back up and making his vision blur. He had stumbled back, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs that burned his lungs and made his throat tighten almost like a noose around his neck.

   Wukong was hurt, and if the polyvocal quality of those screams was anything to go by, he trying to fight back for control. But eventually, Wukong’s voice had died out, submerged under the raspy, high voice of the Baigujing, and Xiaotian had to turn and run toward the city. The Baigujing was coming after all, and this time…

   This time Xiaotian wasn’t sure he could win this fight.

   So he’d continued to run, the constant mantra of don’t let them catch you don’t let them catch you the only thing keeping him from collapsing where he was. His mind kept playing tricks on him, too, with small wisps of translucent blue-white teasing the edge of his vision, and every dark shadow and oddly shaped log appearing like Wukong to Xiaotian’s tear-blurred eyes.

   By the time he could finally see the edge of the city, Xiaotian’s nerves were raw and frayed, his lungs burning like they were on fire. There was no time to stop though. The possessed Wukong couldn’t be that far behind, and there were so many people he needed to get out…

   But even as Xiaotian barreled toward the skyline, he had a realization that made his stomach drop like a stone: even if he was able to evacuate everyone in time, how in the hell was he gonna get anyone to believe him? Sure, the Gold and Silver demon brothers caused some issues every now and then, and the Demon Bull family had wrecked the city on more than one occasion, but Sun Wukong hadn’t been seen by anyone but himself for at least the last 300 years. On top of that, Sun Wukong was supposed to be one of the most powerful beings in all of China, preceded only by Guanyin and the Buddha himself. Something like the Baigujing, which had been considered a low level demon before now, should not have been able to take control of Sun Wukong so easily, or at all really.

   So how, how was he going to get anyone besides Zhu Dachu, Long Xiaojiao, Tang Shifu, and Sha Wujing to believe him? And once he did that, however long it would take, how was he going to be able to evacuate the entire city before the Baigujing got here-

   Xiaotian’s train of thought was abruptly derailed when he slammed into someone at full speed, bowling whoever it was over and sending Xiaotian himself skidding a good few feet in the dirt. He gasped in pain as his already bruised side slammed into the ground, no doubt aggravating the injury even more. He winced as he sat up, head spinning slightly as he did. Xiaotian lifted his hand to his forehead to assess the damage when the person he’d slammed into finally spoke.

   “I ought to burn you to a crisp, you filthy peasant! Look what you did to my coat! How dare you- wait a minute. Qi Xiaot- I mean, Noodle Boy? What are you doing here?” Xiaotian froze as dread flooded him. No. No no no nononono. Why, out of everyone in the city, did I have to run into the one demon that tries to murder me on a regular basis?

   Of course, out of the 20+ million people that Xiaotian could’ve bumped into, Red Son was the one person in his way.

   Great.

—————-  —————-  —————  —————-

   Of course, out of everyone that Red Son could’ve encountered, it was the damned Noodle Boy who had come barreling into him like a bat out of hell, jacket and pants torn and muddy (there was also a small red stain on his side that Red chose not to think about at that moment). The force at which the boy had slammed into him had sent Red Son flying, landing on his back with a thud and tearing up his once pristine trench coat.

   That alone had incensed Red Son enough that he didn’t realize who had run into him at first. It was only when he turned to see that familiar orange hoodie, that signature bright red headband, that he had realized that it was Qi Xiaotian.

   He’d been so shocked that he’d almost accidentally called him by his actual name, a slip up that he made sure to rectify quickly as possible. Couldn’t have the Noodle Boy thinking that he was important enough for the great Red Son to know his name, after all.

   He watched as Xiaotian froze upon hearing his voice, and worry started to knaw at him when the usually confident and boisterous delivery boy started shaking, dread filling his eyes like tar.

   It made something in his gut clench, seeing that look on Xiaotian. It reminded Red of war refugees, with their wide eyes that weren’t seeing anything that was truly there, lost in a world ravaged first by fire, then machine gun fire, then missiles. It was a look that spoke of horrific, monstrous things, things that would take even the most resilient of men and empty them until they were nothing more than husks, their spirits broken by the relentless waves of death and destruction.

   It was a look that Xiaotian never should’ve had to wear, but here he was now, right in front of Red Son, beaten up and covered in dirt and bruises and cuts that he did not know the origins of.

   Red Son was shaken from his musings when the Noodle Boy had jumped up, one hand reaching back for the staff and the other hand reaching out flat in front of him. He had already started to back away, and Red Son was struck again by just how haggard the usually energic boy looked then.

   “Listen Red Son. I’m not here to fight right now, ok? I know you probably couldn’t care less, but there’s a very powerful demon coming at the city right now, and I don’t know if I’m gonna have enough time to evacuate everyone as is, so if you could please just-“

   “What do mean, ‘a powerful demon’? Shouldn’t you be able to handle it, what with having all of Wukong’s powers and whatnot?” At that, an almost pained look flitted across Noodle Boy’s face, and the hand that had been going for the staff suddenly went to his side.

   “That’s…. that’s the- the problem.” Dread turned to alarm at that. What the hell did that mean? Surely there wasn’t a demon powerful enough to take down Sun Wukong in their own, right? Not even his whole family could claim that, and they were one of the most powerful demon families around.

   “It’s… the Baigujing, it…. it escaped to- to Flower Fruit Mountain.” Red Son’s stomach dropped like a stone. Shit. Shit. His father had been a tough fight under the influence of the White Bone Spirit, and had it not been for Xiaotian’s arrival, there was a very good chance he and his mother would not be alive today. If the Baigujing had possessed Sun Wukong….

   “When I… when I got there this morning for- to train, with, with Wukong, it was already…. it was….” Xiaotian was shaking now, and Red Son hated just how much he understood the pain in Xiaotian’s eyes. After all, hadn’t he been in the Noodle Boy’s exact position not even two weeks ago? Hadn’t he known the terror, the betrayal, of seeing the person he looked up to more than anyone else on the planet turned against him, becoming a monster under the influence of some monstrous demon?

   Hadn’t he watched as his father, his loving, caring father, for whom he had dedicated his life toward, came rushing at him with the full intent to kill?

   If Xiaotian hadn’t shown up then, Red would be dead. As much as he hated to admit it (his heart jumped in spite of himself), he owed the Noodle Boy. He owed him so, so much, more than he would likely ever know.

   Sun Wukong had been possessed by the Baigujing. Xiaotian had, more likely than not, seen it happen. Sun Wukong, possessed by the Baigujing, was most likely heading toward the city with the intent to level everything within a 10-mile radius, and then some. If they wanted to limit casualties, then they either needed to evacuate everyone…

   Or, Xiaotian would have to face Wukong outside of the city. On his own. Where he would most likely die, scared and confused, murdered by his idol.

   Absolutely not.

   Before Red Son could reconsider, before he could even begin to think about the implications of what he was about to do, Red Son held his hand out to Qi Xiaotian. Determination burned in him, chasing away the icy tendrils of dread and replacing them with the barest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could do something good for once. Maybe he could fix his mistakes, become better than what he was

   Maybe he could become someone worth loving.

   And it was with that final thought that Red Son reached out to his enemy-turned-rival-turned-something else, one hand gripping the small sketch still in his pocket, and said

   “Let me help.”

[yejiroh]

Hello! I love your Wake Up and See Me story! (not so secret slut for angst and character death) I'd like to request very angsty HCs for Obey me! charas x fem!reader who is still grieving for her family singing her mother's lullaby while spacing out somewhere public. The lullaby in question being Lullaby of Woe by Ashley Serena, The Hanging Tree from Hunger Games series or Come Little Children by Erutan. Wanna see their reactions so bad!!!

I- I really need to update that series. Thank you so much for the support of it anon!

And thank you for the request darling! I’m sorry it took so long, but the lullaby’s were beautiful! So yes, I decided to listen to them all and match them with who I think it’d get the best reaction from! I made a little scene as well before the reactions, so it may or may not be a bit of a long read.

Lullaby Reaction! Obey Me BROTHERS x Fem!MC (ANGST)

Couldn't add the Keep Reading link because Tumblr is a beeotch. Sorry not sorry to everyone because this is LONG!

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TRIGGER WARNING: death, loss of parents, toxicity, mentions of cannibalism, more death, child abuse, traumatic stress, mentions of suicide, nightmare factors, unintentional murder, loss of siblings, and as the anon requested, A SHIT TON OF ANGST!

Side note: I really really liked Lullaby of Woe...may consider making a series based on the lyrics. Who knows?

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This one is kind of long because I did get carried away, but I do hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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Lucifer, Mammon and Beezlebub: Come Little Children

As the cool Autumn breeze hit her face, MC took a sip from the hot cup between her clothed hands. Today would mark the 15th year since the orphanage- her orphanage, had burned down. All 23 children and her parents except she had burned to an ash- less than that truly. She, with her ill body and frail stature, she, with her poor value and level of importance, she, the one who had been trapped in the building longest of all.

Every time she had walked into the toy store around the corner, MC felt pulled towards the puzzle sets. Specifically, the 24 piece sets. MC was the 24th child. But she was also the first. Every day, she’d buy a set, just to lay it on their graves, sorry that she had been left behind. 

“Come little children, I’ll take thee away, into a land of enchantment…oh momma, I’m so sorry I let you all down...I’m sorry I played with the fire, I’m sorry.” A tear had poured down, slid to her dry lips as she desperately held them back.

“I’m sorry momma...papa...I’m sorry I didn’t listen...I’m sorry I killed you all…”

And, as she walked away from the tombstones, a heart that was not hers broke.

{Reactions}

LUCIFER:

1.Never before had Lucifer been so...disturbed.

2.The song was stunning, and that was true….but somehow he could relate

3.He would definitely stay on the down low for a while, his pride showing when he has to come up with lies as to why he wasn’t talking to you

4.Okay, flashbacks for weeks. He was genuinely affected by the song.

5.In the end, he needs more comfort than you once he finally kicks pride out the window and sheds tears in front of you.

6.“I’m sorry, MC…”

MAMMON:

1.Okay...he wasn’t the best at spying on you-but he was worried! Your behavior was odd since last Sunday...actually, every Sunday.

2.He ran out to you, crying hard as he tackled you, saying how sorry he was for digging into your personal life. 

3.The demon was holding fistfulls of little puzzle pieces, candy, and notes, claiming they were from the souls of the children, who wished you the best in life and to move on.

4.He, the avatar of greed, had done something of huge charitable value for these children as he held you close

5.Yes, he got flashbacks….but decided not to dwell on them, more so trying to comfort you.

6.“Stupid human...you can come to me always, ya know that?”

BEEZLEBUB:

1.Beezlebub doesn’t always show his feelings, sure. But he does, forever and always, come for those he cares about. 

2.It’s like a magnetic pull as you cry. He’s there, wiping the large tear threatening to spill with his thumb, licking it off before wiping his hand off. 

3.A kind smile with eyes pain ridden as his big hands engulf your own, for he too, had a tragic past and lost someone he considered blood.

4.“It’s okay, MC. They’re right here, and always will be. Please don’t cry.” He says as he points to your heart, right by your breast, but with no sexual intent. Only comfort. 

5.“Come on, big girl, don’t cry, I’m here.” He says, holding you close and running his fingers through your hair with the gentlest of touches.

6. No one can harm you in your vulnerable state as the Avatar of Gluttony protects you.

Satan and Asmodeus: The Hanging Tree

It was in class- herbology. The lesson was on wisteria trees when MC bordly began to hum a tune.

“Are you, are you, coming to the tree? They strung up a man, they say who murdered three. Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be, if we met at midnight, in the hanging tree.” 

“Miss L/n quiet down! I’m trying to teach!” The professor had called out, but MC was lost as tears began to bubble up. She continued her little song quietly as her desk mates huffed in annoyance. She’d done this every day of the week, only to end up crying. Nobody knew what was wrong with her, nor did they get a word out of her. Not until Amso took MC and Satan out for a spa treatment.

Filing her nails, Asmo blew off the dust, his brows furrowed.

“Say, MC?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is it you sing that depressing song every time someone brings up wisteria trees?”

Now Satan looked up, lifting a cucumber off his eye, his curiosity sparked. MC looked away, pulling her hand away from Asmo’s as she pulled her knees to her chest, a deep sigh escaping her lips. Asmo quickly waved his hands in front of him.

“Oh, sorry, sorry MC! I didn’t know it was a touchy subject-”

Satan interrupted. “Care to share?”

“Satan!”

“No, no, Asmo- it’s okay. It’s...it’s just not something I really talk about.” MC said, finishing off with a whisper. 

The two leaned in, eyes big and expectant when MC looked to them.

“You know, my father passed away when I was really young. It was a selfish reason, really- to put it into his own words, it was, “To escape the responsibility of life.” , but that wasn’t the case.” MC  raised her pant leg, revealing all the burn marks and scars covering the skin. 

“It was really to escape the guilt of hurting me.”

The brothers went quiet for a moment before Satan put a hand up.

“So what does that have to do with that song you were singing?”

MC smiled bitterly. “Because he was the man in The Hanging Tree my mother always sang to me.”

“So what happened to your mother?”

“She too, joined him in death…and left me alone.”

{Reactions}

SATAN: 

1.He was at a loss for words, to say the least.

2.Never, in the demon’s countless millennia had he come across such a pitiful soul

3.Taking a bite of the cucumber before tossing it aside, he took the other off, tracing his fingers across the burns that resembled his rage: Ugly, loved, and traumatizing

4.As the room was quiet, he just felt intrigued to know more, had to know more. 

5.“You’re very strong, MC.”

6.The Hanging Tree did not leave his mind for quite some time as he tried to figure out the mystery MC had unknowingly left implanted in his brain.

ASMODEUS:

1.He has never ruined his makeup by crying in front of somewhere. Never ever.

2.But he sure as hell came close to it. 

3.Asmo had nothing to say but grab MC’s hands and kiss them softly over and over again before continuing the manicure he had initially started.

4.A mental note to take MC’s mind off other things so as not to give her wrinkles from stress or depression. 

Leviathan and Belphegor: Lullaby of Woe

She never had a peaceful night's rest. The dreams always came back to haunt her.Each night, she’d live through it, again, and again, and again. Oh, how the false man in white would come to her, a mischievous grin on his handsome face before cutting into her mind, showing her the deaths at her fault. Her mother, kind and beautiful, always coming in to protect her, reassure her that it wasn’t real, that she was seeing things. 

“Momma, please! I’m scared! I don’t wanna see him again momma!” A little girl wailed, holding onto her mother’s waist, legs wrapped around in a firm hold, hands bundled in her clothes.

“My darling, please just sleep~ I’ll always be here love. Always.”

And always she was, for her remains laid in that rotting home to this day, not yet known. Still, no one would believe the late Mrs. L/n’s daughter.

MC shuffled more in her sleep before finally waking up, eyes puffy from the unconscious crying. Slowly she got up, getting ready for the school day as she washed her face, prepared, and left the room. 

“Good morning.” Each of the brothers would greet her, to which she’d return a small nod. There was nothing to talk about. Not when these nightmares haunted her so.

A little girl sat by her mother’s corpse, a man beside her.

Drink, child. Feast in the blood of a sinner.

“...But….but mother wasn’t a sinner…”

“Ignorant child. You are but a bastard, for she was never married. Drink and cleanse yourself of the blood of a sinner. Repent and be saved.”

Truly, the false man in white was but a liar, wanting nothing more than a child’s innocence and fortune as he toyed with her. 

Lost in her own fantasies, she began to sing, the tall Jubokko tree towering beneath her with the damned’s skulls by her feat. 

“For the witcher, heartless, cold...Paid in coin of gold, He comes he’ll go leave naught behind, but heartache and woe…”

“Deep, deep woe, for the witcher, heartless, cold, Paid in coin of gold, he comes…”

MC’s voice broke into it, pathetic cracks of the voice clear but quiet as she stopped.

A small applause was heard behind her; Belphie and Levi had seen and listened patiently, attentive and concerned.

The Avatar of Sloth put his arms down, kicking a skull as he sat down.

“That was a beautiful song, MC. What has made you so upset?”

Levi too, had sat down, his eyes no longer focused on the forgotten D.D.D.

MC just smiled sheepishly, sitting down with the boys as she tucked back a loose strand away. 

“It was nothing important. A story for another time.”

{Reactions}

BELPHEGOR:

1.Girl, honey, darling. You're lying. It’s okay! You can trust him!

2.If MC doesn’t end up telling him, then he can just slip into the dreams (I think?)

3.Honestly worried for you. He’s the Avatar of Sleep- he KNOWS you’ve been disturbed lately, and more so than others.

4.Can you imagine the pure look of hatred once he finds out about this man?

5.And ew, you drank your mother’s blood? 

6.But that’s cannibalism, which is a major sin so…

7.I guess you really can stay with him forever!

8.Honestly, he’s like a flame; burns as long as there’s fuel, then will move on to another topic.

LEVIATHAN:

1.So yeah. He didn’t really say anything.

2.But he was listening. 

3.Didn’t make an anime reference once because nothing he’s ever knew of had been that horrifying. 

4. Didn’t wanna make you feel shy about it, but kind of hints about it later on. 

5.No, he doesn’t care about the man, because as you sat down on the skull ridden dirt, you just seemed so...peaceful

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

Chopped: Holiday Trope Exchange 2020 Masterlist!

A huge thanks to every person who signed up for our fic exchange, we got 21 really wonderful fics! We’re sorry it took us so long to get this out to you all! For anyone who isn’t sure what this was all about, this was a double blind gift exchange where each of our twenty-one (21!!!) writers were assigned four tropes from an anonymous recipient, and were tasked with writing a fic that fit our holiday theme, and included all the tropes. The only guidance from their recipient were a couple of brief notes they included during the sign up, and both the writer and recipient were revealed when we shared all the fics! A big thanks to the Tropesters who stepped up to write a second fic when we needed them! These fics, as with all our TROPED fics, were creative and unique, and found ways to utilise tropes that may seem so simple but were transformed in really spectacular ways! Please enjoy these wonderful holiday fics!

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roots in my dreamland (my house of stone, your ivy grows) (Rated M) [Bellarke]

Written by @captaindaddykru for @thelittlefanpire. The four assigned tropes were 1) Doppelgängers, 2) one character is a dancer, 3) first snow, and 4) kissing to keep a cover/a secret.

Summary: Clarke really wants it to work out with Bellamy, but as an A-list Hollywood actress there’s a lot of contractual obligations she can hide behind instead of confronting her own insecurities and past mistakes. Luckily, this Christmas she’s lucked out, and her stand-in Josie is more than willing to (completely selflessly of course) take her place.

Now comes the hard part.

brighter than moonbeams (Rated T) [Memori]

Written by @the-most-beautiful-broom for @thedefinitionofendgame. The four assigned tropes were 1) The characters play a game,2) Secret Santa, 3) Exes to Lovers, and 4) Surprise kiss.

Summary: Murphy and Emori fall in love fast, and then talk themselves out of it. Years later, their paths will cross again, and they realize that their might be parts of their story that are yet to be written.

What a way to start the year (Rated T) [Bellarke]

Written by @bellarkeshoe for @bellamysgriffin. The four assigned tropes were 1) Law enforcement partners, 2) Character gets BADLY injured and they hide it somehow only to reveal later that they are mortally wounded, 3) Characters hugging after they’ve been through hell, and 4) Kissing in the snow.

Summary: It’s New Years Eve, and Bellamy and Clarke got stuck working.

It’s Alright, It’s Okay (Rated M) [Clurphy]

Written by @sailawaymayday for @wwjacksparrowd. The four assigned tropes were 1) Found Family, 2) Groundhog Day/timeloop, 3) Character gets shot/stabbed/BADLY injured and hides the wound somehow, only to accidentally (someone else touches them and their bleeding, they collapse, etc.) reveal later that they are mortally wounded, and 4) Hurt/Comfort.

Summary: Clarke makes it onto the Ring with the rest of Spacekru. What happens when New Years Eve keeps repeating itself? And what does Murphy have to do with it?

Dancing in Graveyards: An Arkadia Anthology (Rated T) [Gen Fic]

Written by @justbecauseyoubelievesomething for @kinetic-elaboration. The four assigned tropes were 1) Small town gothic, 2) Christmas Lights, 3) First snow, and 4) Sneaking someone in/out of your window.

Summary: Three small town gothic stories intertwine as old friends reunite and try to make the best out of their lives. Raven returns home after her foster father’s death and is pulled like a magnet to her enigmatic highschool sweetheart. Jasper seeks solace from a tragedy and desperately attempts to outrun the ghosts of the past. Bellamy battles his inner demons and prays not to tear himself and his loved ones apart in the process. And all of them come to realize that they belong together, even if the place they call home is shadowed by sorrow.

do or die, you’ll never make me (because the world will never take my heart) (Rated T) [Bellarke]

Written by @shen-gong-oops for @probably-voldemort. The four assigned tropes were 1) Fake dating, 2) Amnesia AU, 3) Enemies to Friends to Lovers, and 4) Superhero AU.

Summary: As the youngest member of the Guard and the daughter of the Guard former leader, there are high expectations set for Clarke. The Marketing and PR teams at Ark expecting her to be prim and proper during any conferences, while simultaneously performing their well-rehearsed fight choreography to a T.

But when four unknown supes challenge the juggernaut that is Ark Industries, Clarke wonders if herodom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Merry Christmas, Lovebirds (Rated G) [Murven]

Written by @kinetic-elaboration for @shen-gong-oops. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character cautiously says “i’m going to kiss you now, okay?” or some variation of that, 2) Mutual pining, 3) A misunderstanding, and 4) Tattoos.

Summary: There’s never snow for Christmas on the beach, Murphy is a culinary genius, Raven has a boyfriend, and other presumed facts, too obvious to mention.

Once Upon Our Story (Rated G) [Bellarke]

Written by @andthelightbulbclicks for @bellamythology. The four assigned tropes were 1) break-up/make-up, 2) Did they or didn’t they, 3) Extremely biased flashbacks of the same event, and 4) Bookstore or library AU.

Summary: Bellamy returns with as much fanfare as one can imagine when driving a school bus decorated as Santa Claus through town, leaving Clarke shocked and all of their friends confused given he hasn’t been home in months.

(Or: Six months ago, Bellamy left Arkadia.

Six months ago, Clarke didn’t.

Six months ago, their friends knew the relationship ended, even came up with their own versions of what really happened. But the question that they all want to know for certain– is why?)

Dream A Little Dream of Me (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @queenemori for @vmreed. The four assigned tropes were 1) One character has a child, 2) Protectiveness, 3) Only one bed, and 4) Soulmates.

Summary: It was just Murphy’s luck that right as he was starting to enjoy Earth, he had to leave. But he’d rather that than succumb to a fiery death wave. He and the other residents of the Ring remembered Clarke every year during their New Year’s Eve celebration. But even when they weren’t celebrating Clarke, Murphy couldn’t seem to get her off his mind. He wished his brain would stop playing tricks on him by making him think she was alive. Clarke was dead. Wasn’t she?

i don’t wanna burn out, so wont you please set me on fire again? (Rated M) [Murven]

Written by @kuklash for @sparklyfairymira. The four assigned tropes were 1) Protectiveness, 2) Exes and Lovers, 3) Small Town AU, and 4) Characters fall on each other and have a moment.

Summary: The wind nipped at Murphy’s nose as he stood in the doorway of the gas station on the edge of town. Work was slow, as it always was after sundown, especially in the mid-December cold, but someone had to make sure the good townsfolk of Arkadia could get their milk and gas after the small general store closed. All 800 of them. He watched the cars drive by throughout the day, recognizing each and everyone of them. Bellamy’s beat up truck he worked all highschool to afford, Clarke’s clean new sedan, even that jerk Finn’s loud ass motorcycle. He watched them all pass one by one, his old classmates returning home after another semester of college at the University of Polis. The only sign that time was passing at all.

The phone inside rang, breaking him out of his melancholy, at least for now.

“Great,” he thought, sarcastically. “A phone call 10 minutes before we close.”

He walked back inside and put on the most cheerful customer service voice he could muster.

“Dropship Gas, this is Murphy. How can I he-”

A familiar female voice cut him off, leaving him cold.

“Murphy? Thank god!”

It was his ex.

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you (Rated M) [Bellarke]

Written by @sparklyfairymira for @captaindaddykru. The four assigned tropes were 1) Celebrity AU, 2) Meet Ugly, 3) Characters must share something, and 4) Characters aren’t together but are mistaken to be.

Summary: Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are household names thanks to their music. They belong to the same label so they often work together on duets—even though they can’t stand one another. Their first meeting is disastrous and six years later they still can’t get along.

toward brighter days (Rated T) [Sea Mechanic]

Written by @reggieshamster for @/ashplana. The four assigned tropes were 1) Apocalyptic Log, 2) bed sharing, 3) road trip au, and 4) mythical creatures.

Summary: Dear Harper,

I am ridiculously out of it this morning. Last night, when we reached the campsite, Luna suggested we give Echo her own bedroll, since she gave hers up the night before.

Which meant Luna was sleeping with me.

Beside me.

Excerpts from Raven’s journal as she travels to Polis for the Winter Solstice Festival

three words, two hearts, one maybe (Rated G) [Bellarke]

Written by @bellamysgriffin for @bellarkeshoe. The four assigned tropes were 1) Youtuber AU, 2) best friend’s sibling, 3) frikdreina, and 4) miscommunication.

Summary: After an accident blinds Clarke, Octavia’s been encouraging her best friend to keep up with her artwork. In order to inspire her, she recruits the help of her older brother, Bellamy, who’s recently launched a new exhibition at his museum, to feature her work. Bellamy likes Clarke’s work, and he’s more than happy to help. But when she doesn’t show on the big day, he takes matters into his own hands. With an old video camera, he records people’s reactions to Clarke’s artwork so that she’ll know just how talented she is. But when he sends it to his sister, he doesn’t expect her to upload it to YouTube. And he definitely doesn’t expect to go viral.

Something Beautiful, Simple, and Bright (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @wwjacksparrowd for @queenemori. The four assigned tropes were 1) Friends with Benefits AU, 2) Prank war, 3) characters are not together but are mistaken for a couple, and 4) Based on a Song.

Summary: Six months after Wonkru and Eligius manage to establish peace and divide Eden between themselves (with a little slice shaved off for Spacekru, of course), Clarke has a mission: plan a New Year’s Eve party for fifteen hundred people within three weeks.

Murphy’s mission? Stop her from burning out in the process. Oh, and if he could just get Monty to quit it with the freaking noisemakers, that would be great, too.

(���Okay, yeah, he’d also like to date Clarke for real instead of just sleeping with her. But that’s a pipe dream, right?)

put your faith in the devil and the deep blue sea (Rated M) [Clurphy]

Written by @probably-voldemort for @kuklash. The four assigned tropes were 1) Time Loop AU, 2) Characters fall on top of one another and have a “moment”, 3) Enemies to Lovers, and 4) Superhero AU.

Summary: Twenty years ago, when the clocks changed from 11:59pm on December 31st, 1999, to 12:00am on January 1st, 2000, the world ended, exactly as the doomsdayers had predicted. Now, there are only a few livable months left on Earth, and the privileged are evacuating for a life in space, abandoning the planet.

But not everyone has given up.

Clarke was only three when the world ended, and she’s spent most of her life in her mother’s lab. Now, as the last space ships are preparing to leave, her mother’s machine is finally ready, and Clarke and her mother are heading back in time to try to stop the apocalypse from happening in the first place.

An attack on the lab leads to Clarke heading back to 1995 on her own, and the past isn’t quite how Clarke’s vague memories from the beginning of her life paint it. Clarke soon discovers that not only did the machine do more than just send her back in time, but she wasn’t, in fact, sent back alone.

Will she be able to stop the apocalypse before the clock strikes midnight? Or are some parts of history unchangeable?

All I Want For Christmas (Rated T) [Memori]

Written by @thedefinitionofendgame for @the-most-beautiful-broom. The four assigned tropes were 1) Fake dating, 2) Joke kiss turned real kiss, 3) One character is sleeping and the other character is watching them totally in love, and 4) Blanket fort.

Summary: Tired of being single, Murphy decides to take matters into his own hands and get himself a girlfriend before the annual Christmas Day dinner with his friends. Having had bad luck in the past with girls - all twenty four of them - Murphy is determined to make the twenty-fifth, the “Christmas Day” number, his forever.

Of course, this is easier said than done. When his fellow coworker, Emori, seems to be having similar problems and suggests them being each other’s “fake dates” to their Christmas parties in December, Murphy jumps at the chance. Fake dating is better than being totally alone, right? It appears that way, at least until Murphy starts to catch feelings; the ones that make you question everything you think you know. As their “fake feelings” start to become more real, Murphy realizes that Emori’s the one he wants for Christmas. But she’s got walls up and even though his heart doesn’t stand a chance, Murphy’s determined to break them down and show her what falling in love really means, maybe with the help of a little December magic thrown in.

As long as we’re together, no I can’t get much higher (Rated T) [Murven]

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman for @andthelightbulbclicks. The four assigned tropes were 1) Zookeeper AU, 2) Treasure Hunt, 3) secret places, and 4) Secret Santa.

Summary: Murphy has only known Raven for a little while, but the longer he spends getting to know her, the more he realises that there’s no hope of him not falling in love with her.

So when he gets her for Secret Santa, he makes it his mission to nail it.

before i knew you (Rated G) [Clexa]

Written by @dylanobrienisbatman for @sailawaymayday. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Pen Pals, (2) 3+1, 4+1, 5+1, etc., (3) surprise kiss, and (4) character meets another characters ex.

Summary: What do you do when your penpal, the person you know the best in the world, who you love, turns out to be the rather rude (if also rather pretty) sales girl from downstairs? Lexa is about to find out. or - 3 times lexa and clarke meet without knowing they’ve been penpals since childhood, and the 1 time Lexa figures it out.

when life gives you shit, you make kool-aid (Rated M) [Becho]

Written by @reggieshamster for @dylanobrienisbatman. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Bodyguard AU, (2) Bed Sharing, (3) Kissing to Keep Cover/a Secret, and (4) a Character gets shot/stabbed/badly injured and they collapse, being caught by their loved one.

Summary: Bellamy used to have it all, and then one screw-up cost him his career and his fancy life. Now, working as a bodyguard for alcoholic businessmen and their families, he gets a call from his sister for a job… escorting a hitwoman to testify against a man convicted of crimes against humanity. What could possibly go wrong?

and left the secret at the grave (Rated T) [Clurphy]

Written by @probably-voldemort for @justbecauseyoubelievesomething. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Murder Mystery, (2) Partners in Crime, (3) Exes to Lovers, and (4) Snowed In.

Summary: At 8:57 on the morning of December 23rd, eight year old Jordan Green discovered the body of Skybox Inn owner Vera Kane on the floor of the lobby. His screams woke up the other guests of the inn, as well as the live-in butler.

The discovery of the body was followed shortly by two more discoveries. The first was that the storm the night before had knocked out the phones and the internet, and the second was that the inn was completely snowed in with no hopes of escape anytime soon.

Thirteen people trapped in an inn.

Uncountable secrets.

One murderer.

One question.

Who killed Vera Kane?

what a tangled string of Christmas lights we weave (Rated T) [Linctavia]

Written by @thelittlefanpire for @reggieshamster. The four assigned tropes were: (1) Royalty AU, (2) Cyrano AU, (3) Characters fall and end up landing on top of each other and have a “moment”, and (4) Hair brushing and/or braiding.

Summary: When the royal family loses their beloved Prince Wells, the future king of Arkadia, all eyes are on them. The Queen remains as stoic as ever, the Spare grapples with his new responsibilities, the Princess drowns in her grief, and the King is threatening to abolish the monarchy forever.

At Christmastime, as tensions in the palace rise with the vicious tabloids outside, the royal family makes an escape to a castle in the mountains, hoping to find solace and reconcile with their loss.

Princess Octavia will try to mend her broken heart back together as she becomes entranced with the letters sent back and forth between herself and another. But when it’s revealed who the true penman is, will she rise above her sorrow or sink further into it?

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Take a read! Leave a kudos/comment! Our Tropesters worked so hard on creating some unique, festive fun fics from all the amazing tropes that were sent in. Thanks again!

[opalmaplehibiscus]

Jamil’s Guide to Get the Okay From Your S/O’s Parents HC

HC on how Jamil Dealt w/ Everyone when trying to get Permission to Date Reader

*Continue ver. Of Jamil and His Adventure with Romance HC

·       So, you would think that since the 1st year crew witnessed the confession, you and Jamil would be dating right? Haha, wrong

·       Deuce and Epel would be giving Jamil death glares every time he says hi to you when meeting each other in the hallways, giving light kisses on the cheek or forehead, or even approaching you in general

·       The two would pick a fight with Jamil, making delinquent-like facial expressions and cracking their knuckles going as far as to even growl when Jamil doesn’t stop walking up towards you

·       They felt like dads that were about to give up their kid to some evil maniac, tainting their once innocent child to a “I hate you Dad” delinquent – and they weren’t having that. Excuse you, I raised that kid and you’re about to ruin all my hardwork? F*** you, like hell I’m letting you do that

·       Jamil would get annoyed by it. But, he would hold back his sneer since he knew that you treasure your friends, and he literally just started dating you (although Deuce and Epel would like to say otherwise). Yeah, no, he’s not willing to get dumped when their relationship hasn’t even lasted a day

·       He would let his tongue use its magic, not his unique magic, but its flattering magic in hopes to convince Deuce and Epel to let him at least get a foot closer to you

·       And to the horrors of Dad #1 and #2, they nearly fell for it. Nearly. That is until Ace comes in to save the day

·       Ace would make it seem like he approved of you and Jamil at first. At first

·       Out of all 5 of them though, he was  #2 most overprotective dad 

·       He’s seen your ups and your downs. And he was freaking saved by you not once, but twice. Not only that, but you tolerate his jerky-side and continued to support him nonstop. He cares about you and wants you to be in good hands, not get hurt

·       After witnessing Jamil’s true side and how much of a jerk he was to Kalim, yeah, Jamil was added to Ace’s black list. Now that he’s dating you though? He’s on the hit list now

·       And to emphasize that Jamil would never get his approval, Ace would take you somewhere else whenever Jamil ends up arguing with Deuce and Epel

·       Jamil would notice it right away, and try to get through or at least stop it, but Deuce and Epel, following the plan the 1st year squad created, would continue to block his way, even going as far as to insult how ugly he looked when he was OB. Which was taboo.

·       The duo would then be facing a pissed Jamil, who gets angrier when he sees Ace sticking his tongue or giving a knowing-smirk behind his shoulder as he takes you far, far away from him

·       And every. time. it. happens. Jamil would be tempted to use his unique magic. The only reasons he wouldn’t were because of 1. You, 2. He just got over OBing and wasn’t dumb enough to use it when he wasn’t done recovering, and 3. You

·       If Ace was bad, Jamil had it worse with Sebek

·       Surprisingly, the half-demon/half-human was #1 most overprotective dad

·       When Sebek watched how Jamil betray Kalim, he felt betrayed and angered

·       He thought him and Jamil were similar, with the want of wanting to protect their master while feeling honored to stay by their sides

·       After watching the magicam, he was already ready to take down Jamil. But boy oh boy did he had the guts to date you

·       Sebek: PREPARE TO DIE SNAKE Jamil: WHAT THE ACTUALLY F- Kalim: NO CURSING JAMIL! Well, at least not in front of your s/o Jamil: … F-Duck

·       Sebek wouldn’t hold back and literally tries to kill Jamil while Jamil runs away, screaming profanities left and right. Sebek wouldn’t admit it even in his death, but he holds you close to his heart

·       Jack, being the nicest of the five, would interview Jamil, interrogating him to T. He’s also the one that gives the okay sign to attack Jamil once he sees that the coast is clear

·       When Jamil talks with Jack, it goes more or less smoothly except for some bumps along the way

·       Jack: You better watch your back, if you ever hurt [Y/N]… Jamil: Do you expect me to actually take you seriously? I bet I can beat you even when you’re using your unique magic Jack: Even in front of [Y/N]? Jamil: You’re becoming more like your dorm leader Jack: You do realize that I’m the easiest one to get permission right? Jamil: Did I ever mention that your unique magic makes you look majestic. Honestly, I admire it

·       In the end Jamil does get Jack’s permission to date you. And thanks to that, he was able to get Deuce and Epel’s permission more or less. If you take out the threats and insults and him nearly getting caught by you when he was about to roast them

·       Just when he finally, and miraculously, finished getting all the first years’ permission, someone taps him on the shoulder. When he turns around and sees the rest of the dorms, his face turns pale

·       Are you kidding him? Why the actual crap are they involved? Just let him date you for gosh sake!

·       Out of all the dorms he had the easiest time to get approval, it was Heartslabyul

·       Riddle was similar to Jack, where he interrogated Jamil, probing around to see what were his true intentions of dating you

·       After the whole, intense event, Jamil was able to prove that he wanted to date you out of love and adoration he held for you. To be completely fair, he had no choice but to give honest answers since Riddle had used his unique magic on him, while Cater was filming him with his phone and Trey, who he thought would be the softest one of the three, was giving him a glare that could potentially put the devil to shame

·       The talk with Octavinelle was just a shaming session. They would continue saying “shame on you for so and so” or “you really think you could date [Y/N], when you’re only going to do this and this”, listing everything he had done in chapter 4. When they mentioned you not liking guys that would scream “DOKAN! NICE SHOT!”, he wanted to just dig a hole

·       Pomefiore though made Octavinelle seem like a baby. Until then, Jamil thought he had the sharpest tongue in the school. But that obviously wasn’t the case

·       He found it strange that Vil had politely asked him to stop by his dorm so they could talk, and thought that if he used his flattery again, he’ll at least easily get approval

·       The blows Jamil faced was too much though. Vil and Rook, when they want to roast someone – they don’t hold back

·       Jamil’s pride was completely trampled to the point he wasn’t able to get up. From judging his taste in fashion to criticizing how he looked when he Obed - and what do you mean he looked like Juju?! He looks nothing like that dumb snake! His looks, at the least, is decent compared to the rest of the school! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S JUJU?!?!?!?

·       Vil: Honestly you just remind me of that one snake that always sticks its tongue out on the side of its tongue from that one voodoo movie Jamil: What? I’m not that dumb snake! Vil: You’re right. That’s just an insult to the poor thing. You look like Jafar

·       We don’t talk about Savanaclaw. Don’t mention it to him, don’t try to ask about it to him, don’t bring it up to him

·       Jamil: Why the hell do I need to get approval from you? Leona: Is that how you’re going to talk to their parents when you ask for their permission to date [Y/N]? Jamil: At least they’ll like me unless a pathetic cat who’s only liked by a kid Leona: … “I am hunger. I am thirst. I am which steals your tomorrow –”

·       Honestly, Jamil didn’t know why you didn’t mention that you were friends with Malleus Draconia? That guy isn’t your “cute, kind and shy Tsunataro”!!!! He’s THE Malleus Draconia!!!!!

·       Jamil has felt fear before. He’s familiar with it. He felt it when Kalim was about to die from poisoning, when Kalim fell his magic carpet, when he found an assassin disguised as a servant, waiting to kill Kalim in his sleep. But the fear he had for the Diasomnia dorm tops all that.

·       He never would’ve thought that out Silver, Malleus, and Lilia, he would be most scared of Lilia

·       What baby face? What about him talking like a grandpa? All Jamil sees is Satan in a body of a dark fae 

·       When he was able to finally leave their dorm, he nearly fainted from the sheer pressure they emitted. They do not hold back on their blood lust. Whoever gets on their bad side, his condolences. You aren’t going to survive

·       When you greet him from the dorm’s entrance, he demands you to spoil him for a week while resting his head on your shoulder and hugging you tightly

·       When you hug him back just as tight, and patted his head while saying he did good, it reminds him why he still did it and that everything was worth it. Your mere presence was enough for him, yet when you comfort him? It was the best thing ever

·       After resting and spending a whole day with you (it ended up becoming more of a therapy session for his newly formed PTSD from Diasomnia), he prepares himself to face the final boss: Kalim

·       Despite Kalim already telling him that he supported their relationship, Jamil knew better than to just leave things at that

·       Jamil was aware how precious you were to Kalim especially when he heard Kalim saying you were his bffl right after Jamil

·       When he heard how you helped Kalim become more honest with his feelings and spent time hanging out with him when he was lonely, the feeling of guilt crashed into Jamil

·       It was times like this that he’s reminded how much of a jerk he was towards Kalim and that he should do a better job giving Kalim the respect he deserves

·       So, when he approached Kalim and asked Kalim’s approval, the conversation between Kalim and Jamil ended up being another heart-to-heart conversation with Jamil wanting to actually gain approval as someone Kalim would honestly support, not because he was his best friend

·       In the beginning, their talk resembled that of a person consulting a relationship counselor when Jamil was talking about his honest opinion of him dating you, his feelings for you and how he honestly felt nervous around you. Despite his calm and chill demeanor, Jamil talked about how he was scared of hurting you. Even if it wasn’t his intention, he was scared that he might screw up

·       Kalim, being someone who knew him the best, would point out everything good about Jamil, and Jamil would forever hold it a secret in his heart, but when Kalim mention how Jamil was someone he would trust despite everything that happened

·       The conversation shifts  towards them telling each other how much the other changed and developed after the whole Chapter 4 incident

·       When Kalim brought up how he learned to be more observant and considerate towards him, Jamil felt his heart beat faster from the nervousness and guilt. Jamil wanted to tell him that Kalim did more than enough, that he was, other than you, the only person in the world who would ever give him honest praises. That Kalim would forever be his irreplaceable friend

·       Yet, Jamil could only hold back seeing how this was going to a rare moment that Kalim actually opens up and spills everything that was piling inside of him. And if he interrupted, he knew that Kalim would end up stop talking about it, and how was he going to know that Kalim is actually okay with him dating you when it hasn’t even been a few days since the two of them went back becoming buddies?

·       When Kalim starts talking about how closely he holds Jamil and you to his heart, and that he wants to see the two of you becoming happy, Jamil would deny the fact that he was tearing up. Nope you’re just seeing things, Kalim, I’m not about to cry. I said I’m fine, Kalim no seriously I’m okay Kalim-

·       When he sees you coming out of your hiding spot from Kalim’s room, he surprised

·       You confess to Jamil that you came to also gain Kalim’s approval just a few hours before he had arrived, but stayed back out of your concern for him

·       When you noticed how Jamil started to look offended and thought you were suspicious of him using his unique magic on Kalim like he did before, you clarified and mentioned how Jamil looked nervous, heck more nervous then the time he had to talk to Diasomnia which led you to stay back and morally support him

·       Jamil would try to hide his blush, embarrassed and touched that you stayed back for him

·       He pulls up his hood, press it down firmly on to his head, pulls the strings until his face wasn’t visible, and he lied there in ball position

·       It took you and Kalim a good hour to coax Jamil to get him off the ground, and another hour to get him to take off his hood

[devinescribe]

[A Little More] Niragi S.

The plot is basically knowing before the games, and you were his main bully's sister. And then it transfers to being in the games. I listened to the song 'A Little More' by Alessia Cara while making this, and it's on my Wattpad as well :)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of abuse, bullying, mentions of rape(none done by Niragi towards the reader. Also, more like insinuates it, not describes or for sure says it, but just in case!)

You had seen the boy around. He carried his books hurriedly around, and your brother always told you he was his friend. And you believed him.

"Onii-Chan! Hiii!" You chirped, running up to your brother. You saw his friends behind him, the boy with the glasses trailing behind. "I'll be inside in a second," you said, running past the group of boys to the boy behind them. "Hi! My name's (L/N) (F/N). What's your's?" You introduced, holding out a hand to him to shake. "S-suguru Niragi... Nice to meet you," he responded, looking up to meet your gaze. "That's my big brother, he's super cool. I wanna be like him one day. Even though he's only a years older," you giggled, pointing towards the boy standing in the doorway, glaring down at him. "B-big brother? I-i have to go..." he excused. "Ah, wait, Suguru-San, let's talk more at school yeah?" You shouted after him. He stopped, turning to look at you, giving a curt nod.

"Hey! What- what are you doing?" You asked, stumbling across your brother with his friend. Niragi was on the floor, blood spilling from nose, a baseball next to him. His glasses scattered to the side. "Leave (Y/N), it's nothing to concern yourself with. Go home," your brother said. He was holding a baseball bat. "I thought he was your friend?" You asked, walking closer to them. "I told you to leave," your brother responded louder. "Did you do this to him?" You asked, tears building in your eyes. "And if I did? He's just a loser anyways," you brother said. You gasped, walking closer to your brother. "Stop. You shouldn't do this," you said, trying to look at the boy standing in front of you like he was still your brother and not some monster who had been torturing someone innocent. "I told you to leave you dumb bitch," he scoffed, pushing you down. "D-dont!" Niragi shouted from behind you. Your eyes widened. "Don't hurt her... she's your sister, you shouldn't hurt your sister," Niragi said, trying his hardest to be brave to protect you. "And?" Your brother said, kicking your leg harshly. You gave a yelp of pain, and crawled backwards to Niragi. " 'Ragi, you ok?" You asked, wiping away the blood, to no avail as it kept coming out. "Get away from him (Y/N), unless you want the same treatment," one of your brother's friends smirked. Your eyes widened, holding onto him. "Hurt me then. I don't care. Leave him alone!" You shouted, shielding Niragi from them. "Aw look, he needs a girl to protect him," one of the boys taunted. You stood up, holding Niragi's hand. Your brother scoffed, tossing a ball up, and batting it. You only heard a crack, and felt a pain on your nose. You put a hand up, and felt blood drip down. " 'Ragi, on the count of three, run. Run home or wherever, don't look back, just run, and I'll see you at school tomorrow alright?" You instructed, looking at him with a smile. "But what about you? You're a girl and they could do worse to you than me I can't let you-" he said, stumbling over his words. "Go. I'll be fine, I'll see you tomorrow," you said, the kind smile he'd grown to love still present on his face. He only nodded.

"1"

He closed his eyes, dreading the thought of leaving you alone.

"2"

You looked up at him, and gave him a quick kiss to the cheek.

"3."

He swallowed harshly, and ran like you told him. He did what you told him, trying to block out the noise, because he knew he would look back if he did...

The next day you showed up at school. Your eyes no longer held the same spark they had. Your smile had dulled. Not even like you were giving a real smile. There were bruises on your legs that you had neglected to cover.

You went to your usual spot under the Sakura tree in the school court yard. " 'Ragi?" You questioned, seeing him standing there, under the tree. He saw you, and let out a sigh of relief. "Are you ok? What happened? What did they to you?" He asked, reaching out for you. You jumped back, scared of what might happen if you let him touch you. He looked at you, seeing the bruises on your neck and legs. "What the hell did they do to you?" He whispered, slowly walking over to you. Your eyes filled with tears. "I-it was h-horrible, I- I didn't think that i-," you started, breaking down in sobs. He reached you, slowly wrapping his arms around you.

You two sat atop the roof of the apartment complex, looking out to the stars. "So let me get this straight, if a guy with piercings and long hair asked you out, you wouldn't hesitate to say yes?" He asked, laughing a bit. You laughed, nodding your head. "But also smart guys. Clever ones, who put thought into things. The guys who aren't afraid of their emotions or mine ya know?" You admitted, looking up to the stars. He nodded softly. " 'Ragi. You'd look good with piercings," you mentioned all of a sudden. "Really?" He asked, looking at you. "Mhm. And if you grew out your hair to... here," you said, touching his shoulders. "Is this your way of telling me I'm ugly?" He joked. "No! You're really cute, I'm just saying it would look good on you. Dummy," you muttered. "What would you do if everyone in Tokyo disappeared? It was just the two of us?" He asked suddenly. "I'd be... happy. Our utopia where my brother and his stupid friends don't exist. Just us, watching the stars every night. I'd like that," you said softly. "I'd like that too," he whispered.

You chuckled at the memory. "Well, I would have liked it. If you were here with me," you said, leaning back on the wall. You looked down at the cards in your hand. 10 of clubs, ace of diamonds, and 2 of hearts. You shuddered. "Maybe it's better you're not here 'Ragi. I wouldn't want you going through this," you muttered. You heard the engine of a car. "What the hell? I thought cars didn't work," you whispered, walking out from your hiding spot, onto the street. The headlights of the cars fell on you, and they stopped. "Oi, you ok?" A voice asked. "Um, not really? How'd you get cars working?" You responded. No one answered. "We have a place where people in this situation can go. The Beach. Do you have any playing cards?" The person asked. "Yes, I do. 10 of clubs, ace of diamonds, and 2 of hearts," you responded. "Hop on in," they said. You walked over cautiously, getting into the car.

"Welcome to the beach. Right now, there's only a few of us, but in time there will be many. We have 3 militals, and 4 executives so far, with me being the leader," the man, who's name you learned to be Hatter. "Hatter, your back from- and who's this?" A voice said from the top of the staircase. You looked over, and saw a boy, about your age, with dark shoulder length hair. You couldn't see his facial features since he was so far away. He walked down the stairs, and you could see his face. He had an eyebrow piercing, as well as a nose piercing, with very attractive features. He looked so familiar. "That's Niragi, he's one of the militals, which is why he has a weapon," Hatter explained. Niragi clicked his tongue. "N-niragi?" You stuttered, walking a bit closer to the boy. "Oi, why the hell are you starin' at me like that? You look like you've seen a ghost," he scoffed. "Hi! My name's (L/N) (F/N). What's your's?" You said, using the same childish voice you had back then, sticking a hand out like you had back then, hoping this was your Niragi. The Niragi you had spent hours with atop the roofs of Tokyo. The Niragi who called you an idiot for getting drunk once. The Niragi who had most of your firsts, even if they were on a dare or some stupid punishment of your brother's creation. The same Niragi who had protected you after that day. The same Niragi who bought you candies and snacks after school. The Niragi you had and still loved. His eyes widened, and the gun he had dropped to the floor. "S-suguru Niragi... Nice to meet you," he said, the same way he had back then. The tears that had filled your eyes fell, and you grabbed his hand, pulling him into a hug. "It's you, it's really you right? I'm not dreaming? Did I die, is this heaven, please tell me that's really you," you cried into him. "It's me, it's really me (N/N)," he whispered, trying to keep his tears from falling. Hatter smiled, and left, giving the two of you a bit of privacy. He pulled away from the hug, cupping your face in his hands, placing his forehead on yours. "I'm so happy you're ok," you whispered. He stayed quiet, reeling in everything. You were there. With him. You were safe as could be within this messed up world. You were the same (Y/N) who had taken more damage for him than anyone in his life. The (Y/N) who had stayed up on late night phone calls. The (Y/N) who fixed his glasses everytime they broke. The (Y/N) who watched the stars with him. You pulled away, sniffling. "You look different," you laughed, sniffling and drying your tears. "Good different or bad different?" He asked with a smirk. "Good different. Great different. I told you you'd look good," you said. "Oh that reminds me of something I've wanted to do forever. (Y/N), will you go out with me?" He asked. "Yes," you responded with a smile. "Oh wow, you really meant no hesitation, huh?" He teased. "I've loved you since we were kids, why the fuck would I say no?" You admitted, holding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"You know, this isn't the way I thought I'd die, but I'm glad it's with you," you said, panting from the heat of the flames. "It's all my fault. You shouldn't be in this mess. Fucking hell..." he muttered. You lay your head on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself. I had just as much fault as you," you whispered. "Chishiya was right. All of us militals are just morons with guns," he laughed. You smiled. "I'm sure he'd love to hear you admit that. I can see him smirking right now," you said, a laugh escaping your lips. "Remember that time your brother found us on the roof, and we had to jump from one roof to the other to get away?" He asked leaning his head onto yours. "Yeah, remember that time we threw one of his baseball's into the river, and he was super pissed?" You giggled. "Remember that night on the roof when you told me your biggest fear was loosing me?" He asked. "That was legitimately the other night, if course I didn't forget it bubs," you whispered, snuggling into him. You both coughed from the smoke. "I don't want to die..." you whimpered, hugging him tightly. He held onto you. "I know... I know. But we'll just feel pain for a second, and then we'll meet in hell princess," he joked, trying to comfort you. You laughed a bit, but it turned into you coughing. "I love you Niragi," you said. "I love you too, (Y/N)."

Sorry if he's OOC my dear readers-

[thismasterpieceofmine]

Breaking the Rules

Rated T; Spoilers for seasons 4-15.18

Regardless of what Heaven thinks, Cas was not doomed the moment he touched Dean's soul in Hell. He was saved.

Or: a look at all the rules Castiel broke as he sided with the Winchesters, and the one rule he surprisingly kept.

Michael had been absolutely clear in his instructions: “Grab the Righteous Man’s soul from the Pit and return it to it’s body so I may have my vessel to defeat Lucifer.” Towering above the seraph, Michael’s cold eyes do not leave Castiel, as if waiting to find a crack or some indication this particular angel before him would fail him. “Do you understand your task?”

Castiel nodded, as one does not disobey an Archangel. “Yes sir.”

“Good. It doesn’t matter the casualties, don’t stop until you grab it,” Michael added, making it clear the task was to obtain his vessel. 

It did not matter how many angels died in the process and if Castiel had been introduced to humanity, to doubt and other emotions at the time, perhaps he would’ve seen the flaws in thinking like that. But he had not, and such forth does not question Michael’s word. After all, Michael was the eldest of all angels. He was one of the few who their Father spoke to, and knowing His word, Castiel knows Michael’s own word must be almost as important as God’s. Besides, Castiel is old enough to know what happens to angels who disobey or question orders - they fall. 

So Castiel, the good soldier, nods again and leads his garrison to Hell. They storm the gates as Michael has commanded, and in the midst of the fighting, Castiel flies to the Pit and retrieves the Righteous Man’s soul from the Rack. 

 “Oh, and Castiel?” Michael’s voice rang through his head as he reached for the soul, the final parting words the Archangel had told him before leaving. “Do not get attached to it.”

Such a silly warning, one might think, for angels are not able to get attached or form connections with things. Especially those below the Archangels in rank. Emotions had been deemed dangerous, tricky things that had caused the Fall, caused the Rebellion, and the remaining Archangels had made it clear how bad those were. And those who forgot, Naomi reminded. 

Angels do not feel.

Angels do not get attached.

And yet, when Castiel’s hand meets the soul’s shoulder, a shudder passes through his grace. The soul is damaged, and has faced the harsh nature of Hell --  it has been torn and ripped at, all sharp edges and weeping wounds, and as Castiel touches it, it's emotions seep into his own grace. But still, despite this, he can feel it's strength, it's resilience and Castiel lets some of his grace seep into the soul to ease it's emotions, to patch it's wounds. Without realizing it, the angel mends most of the damage done to the Righteous Man’s soul, before returning it to it’s body, and that’s when Castiel breaks the first rule: don’t get attached.

Of course, Castiel doesn't realize this at the time.  It becomes such a gradual thing, forming bit by bit, strengthening as time passes. After the Righteous Man --  Dean, his name is Dean. A name Michael does not use. All the angels view Dean has the Righteous Man, the Michael Sword. Castiel views him as Dean --  is resurrected, Castiel tries to reach out to him. It’s purely to keep an eye on him, much like he had been told to, after having delivered the news to Michael. 

Michael had told him to ensure Lucifer’s agents did not weaken his vessel before the battle could commence -- and Castiel had understood his next command. Keep the Righteous Man safe to ensure Heaven wins, whatever the cost. So, as a loyal soldier of Heaven, he does. He allows himself to aid the Righteous Man and the vessel of Lucifer time and time again, and each time he returns to them, he finds himself growing intrigued by them. Dean especially. Up until this point, Castiel has only observed humans from afar, but now, seeing them up close, helping them, he feels like he’s truly begun to understand them. He can see the similarities between Dean and Michael too, but where the angels only see the similarities, Castiel sees the differences too. 

Unlike Michael, Dean does not see the apocalypse as a war for paradise, of Heaven triumphing over Hell. Rather, he sees how it will affect humans, all those who will die and suffer for some useless battle -- and hearing it that way makes Castiel pause and think. 

Because despite being told this battle will rid the world of evil and temptation, that Michael will use him to destroy Lucifer, the Serpent, the Fallen Angel of the Pit, the Father of Lies, Dean does not care for that. Instead, as the demons work to break the seals, him, and the vess--- Sam work to counteract it.  They go against everything Castiel knows and believes, and as Castiel continues to offer his help, he finds himself doing the unthinkable: he asks questions. 

Not out loud, no, he knows the consequences of that. But being around Dean, around the Winchesters, he thinks about what they tell him. He thinks about how his superiors and the angels around him seem less and less concerned as more seals break. They are all certain that Lucifer will be sprung from the Cage, Michael himself, and Castiel can’t understand what happened once to their dedication to preventing that. Why is it only the Winchesters that don’t want the war to happen?

It’s being at Dean’s side that Castiel truly learns Heaven and Hell aren’t so different -- they both want their war. They both want their victories over the other, and neither cares about humans if they don’t serve them for their tasks. Heaven especially. Perhaps Castiel should’ve figured this, as angels were soldiers first, not guardians, but he also remembers his Father telling them to love and protect humans. 

And if Michael and Heaven can’t understand that, then Castiel will do it himself.

With this, he breaks two more rules: He doubts Heaven, and he disobeys his superiors, ignoring the mission they gave him. 

An angel shouldn’t be able to turn its back on Heaven, not without falling, not with all the effort Michael has put in to keep them loyal, but Dean fascinates Castiel. It’s his willingness to not give up,  to keep fighting even when the odds are stacked against him, and Castiel follows him wherever he goes. He helps the Winchesters try to stop the seals from breaking, he joins them on hunts, sits in the back of their car, and acts very unangelic. 

He turns his back against Heaven again and again and again. 

He kills angels for Sam and Dean, he talks back and asks questions, and allows himself to willingly fall further and further from God’s Grace. 

Castiel lets Dean (and Sam) call him Cas, removing the suffix that ties him to Heaven, to God. No longer is the shield of God. He’s just Cas, and while the butchering of a Heavenly name should warrant the two hunters facing the wrath of heaven, Cas welcomes it with a smile. After all, Cas has made it clear at this point, that he will not serve Heaven anymore, will not listen to Michael’s orders, putting himself instead on the side of Humanity. Cas, the angel formerly known as Castiel, does not quite saunter from Heaven’s light, or take a thousand-year-free-fall to Hell, takes a conscious step off the edge of Heaven right into Humanity’s arms with a grin. 

After stopping the showdown at Stull Cemetery, Cas begins breaking rules like it’s a checklist. 

He rebels against Raphael, the only remaining Archangel.

He starts a rebellion in Heaven and then kills Raphael.

He kills angels -- old friends, new enemies, all those who were his brothers and sisters -- for the sake of two humans. 

Cas questions God’s plan and then calls himself the new God in Raphael’s place.

He works with demons, he falls, he betrays Sam and Dean, his friends, all fo Heaven.

He lets himself get attached, feel emotions and care about other humans, picking humanity over his siblings each time.

Regardless of the chances he’s been given to come back, Cas turns his back on his angelic mission, on what the angels say is God’s plan, and no amount of threats and brainwashing and words can stop him. (Even death does not stick for Cas, who comes back as often as the Winchesters.)

In twelve years of being on Earth, of being in the presence of Dean, there is one final rule that he breaks. 

Now, this isn’t a spoken rule that he was told by his superiors, but it’s a rule passed by mouth from those in his garrison and others he trained with. A rule made way back after the angels fell, when Nephilim first sprouted up - never fall in love with humans. Taboo, a rule that when broken was as good as death, as good as falling, as good as betrayal against Heaven. Angels were not allowed to fall in love. 

Cas breaks that rule too. For how could one look at Dean Winchester and not fall in love? How could he not care so deeply about this one human who taught him everything, who shared his passions and showed him kindness and called him family when Heaven deemed him broken? How could he not love this human whose soul he patched up in Hell, who watched time in and time out, put himself so selflessly on the line for his brother, for their friends, for all of the world, expecting nothing in return? How was Cas expected to not care about him after all of that?

Chuck and a great deal of Heaven had pointed out time and time again that Castiel had come out wrong, a bit broken, a crack in his chassey, and perhaps they were right. Maybe he was broken, maybe he had fallen the moment he lay hands on Dean’s soul in Hell, or had shattered himself at the altar of Dean Winchester, but he was okay with that. Because Dean cared for him back, and Cas easily could say these last few years by the hunter’s side were some of the best, regardless of the good, bad and ugly that came with it. 

“I love you,” he says with a smile. It’s not the way he planned this to go, and Dean looks confused and heartbroken, but Cas does not regret the words. He does not regret the rules he has broken to get here, even as Billie threatens to break down the door and kill them both. Nothing could ever stop Cas from breaking those rules again if given the chance -- because Dean Winchester had been saved when Cas had pulled him from Hell, and Cas had been saved the moment he met Dean on earth. 

(and perhaps, for all that the grief he had been given over the rules he had broken, he should be given some credit for the one he had kept: Keep the Righteous Man safe. Maybe not without getting attached, but, as the Empty swallows him and Billie up, he likes to believe that that little detail hardly matters. He still kept the most important one.)

[lokislytherin]

euphoria // vampire!jungkook

pairing: vampire!jeon jeongguk x human!reader

summary: you’re scared of vampires - until one saves your life one night.

word count: 1988 + 1808 + 2373 + 1798 + 1046 + 2113

chapters: prologue / chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / epilogue

"No!" Jeongguk howls as you fall unconscious, brown eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He knows too well how much being bitten without permission hurts, and it hurts to see you in pain like this.  A red haze of rage floods in before his eyes, and his fangs slide out of his gums.  If it means keeping you alive, he's more than willing to unleash the feral beast inside.  Both sides of him have a common goal now - the side of him that's still human wants to protect you, and the vampire side wants a continuous supply of your sweet blood, preferably fresh.

Seokjin's motorbike screeches to a halt, the witch jumping off nimbly and landing on both feet.  He taps Jeongguk's head with his phone-staff, linking their minds.  Focus, Jeongguk, Jin says, keep your emotions in check.  You won't win this without a clear head.

Even through the rage, Jeongguk can register his words as a warning.  He takes a deep breath, and the red dissipates.  He knows you'd prefer him alive - or as alive as he is now - and he'd prefer you alive too.  Besides, if you died, who knows what Seokjin would do to him?

I'll create a distraction and bring Y/N to safety.  I trust you to deal with this leech without attracting mortal attention.  He pats Jeongguk's shoulder in an almost brotherly manner, and Jeongguk is suddenly glad the other man is with him.  Go get your vengeance, JK.  I'll turn a blind eye. The vampire holding your unconscious body hostage sneers at the duo standing before him.  "How unexpected: a witch and a vampire joining forces to protect a lowly human.  My, I never thought I'd see the day! All you're missing now is a werewolf."

Next to Jeongguk, Seokjin goes rigid.

Jeongguk snarls, baring his fangs in a challenge.  "Let her go." Jin's eyes dart from side to side, planning the best way to get Y/N out and escape.  "If you want her, you'll have to go through me.  And you hurt her, so I'll kill you."

Jeongguk sounds more confident than he is, and the vampire must have picked up on it, for he shrieks out a laugh.  "Oh, little leech.  So young and naive." His nails are long and dirty, so filthy and unkempt they resemble claws.  He looks like something out of Dracula.  "I wonder how your little blood bag will taste." You're already bleeding from two puncture wounds in your neck, but with a slice of a nail, he slits your throat, blood spurting out of your jugular.  Seokjin grits his teeth, fists clenched.  "Mmm, she smells good, doesn't she?" The older vampire taunts.

Jeongguk's nostrils flare, but he tries not to inhale.  He doesn't want to confirm the other bloodsucker's words, but neither can he deny it.  Seokjin's scent is the only thing tethering him to sanity - the base of it is calming rose, but his anxiety smells like sour blackcurrants.  Stay calm, Jeongguk tells himself, stay calm.  Do it for Y/N. It's time, Seokjin murmurs in his mind.  Close your eyes.

Jeongguk listens wisely.  "Look behind you," the witch sneers right back at the vampire.

Like the fool that he is, the vampire turns his back to Seokjin, and Jeongguk closes his eyes just in time to sense a sharp burst of light from behind his eyelids.  When the light fades, both Y/N and the witch are gone, the only trace of their presence bloodstains and motorbike tire tracks.

Jeongguk sighs a silent breath of relief.  At least you're safe now.

"Stupid witch." The vampire scowls, fangs gleaming as red as his eyes.  "Now you've cost me my dinner." He rises to his feet with an ugly smile, flexing his fingers and claws.  "Time to settle this like real men, little leech."

“You’re not a man,” Jeongguk spits out, “you’re a monster.”

The bloodsucker quirks a brow, grinning at Jeongguk.  It's vile, and it makes the hairs on the back of his neck raise.  "And what makes you so different, little leech?" He takes a step forward, but Jeongguk will not be cowed.  "We're the same, you and me.  We're vampires, we need fresh blood to survive.  You've probably killed humans before.  You can deny it all you want, but you know you're a monster too."

"You're wrong," Jeongguk grunts, crouching into a fighting stance that's as familiar to him as his own body.  The bloodsucker delights in seeing the younger vampire tremble, knowing he has hit a sore spot.  Jeongguk clenches his fists, knees bent, jaw set.  "You were the one who turned me." The vampire hums.  "Oh, I remember you.  You put up one hell of a fight, little Taekwondo boy." He licks his lips.  "The fear only made your blood sweeter."

The young vampire growls, forcing down the bile that rises in his throat.  "I'll kill you for hurting Y/N."

"I'm a vampire.  I'm already dead." He smiles, malice gleaming in his crimson eyes.  "But you already know that, don't you, little Taekwondo boy?"

Little does the bloodsucker know, Jeongguk has a wooden stake hidden in the inner pocket of his jacket, courtesy of Seokjin.  You'll need backup, the older man had told him beforehand, once I leave with Y/N, I won't be coming back for you.  She doesn't heal like we do.  Seokjin had pressed the stake into his hands.  I trust you to walk out of there safe and hurt as little as possible.

Stabbing the stake into the bloodsucker's chest would be an act of mercy, and terrible as it sounds, Jeongguk wants the other vampire to feel pain.  He deserves it for hurting Y/N, doesn't he?

But is it right? Would it make him as much of a monster as the other vampire if he were to kill him slowly? He banishes the thoughts from his brain with a shake of his head.  He can't afford to be thinking like this.

"You can't kill me, can you, little Taekwondo boy?" The vampire mocks him, malice in his eyes.  "You're too weak." Jeongguk snaps.

The only time he'll ever be weak is when he's with you, and are you here now?

No.

Back when he learned Taekwondo, his master had always told him to have courtesy, integrity, perseverance, self-control and indomitable spirit.  Even now, he would not fail his master - he'd taken those words on as rules of life, not just sports.  A year ago, he had been human, terrified kicks and punches no match for the vampire.

Now, he's a vampire.  He's ten times stronger than he was before, and he won't lose.  Just pretend it's a Taekwondo match, he thinks to himself.  One point for a basic torso attack, two for a spinning kick to the body, and three for a kick to the head.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he goes immediately for a punch to the torso, gauging the other vampire's speed in comparison to his.  The vampire nimbly dodges out of the way, but Jeongguk isn't fazed - it's just like a regular match, except neither he nor his opponent are human and they are fighting at twice the speed of a normal match.

Now, for a spinning kick - he launches himself off the ground in a roundhouse kick, aiming for the head.  It would've been a brilliant kick: after years of training, he had perfect form, with immense strength and speed to match.  

What a pity the other bloodsucker had to grab him by the foot and slam him down onto the ground, digging sharp nails into his leg.

"I won't fall for that again," hisses the leech.

If the bloodsucker will play dirty, Jeongguk will do the same.  The rules of Taekwondo don't apply anymore, not when your opponent is fighting to kill.  Jeongguk will not give up, not when your life is at stake, as are the lives of the innocents who may be subjected to vampirism in the future.

No more people will be subjected to the bloodsucker's cruelty, not if Jeongguk can help it.

He charges forward, body slamming into the bloodsucker with superhuman strength and speed.   He tackles his opponent to the cold concrete floor, fists driving mercilessly into his face.

The older bloodsucker retaliates with a hiss that sounds more animal than human, sharp nails slicing at his skin.  They're literally fighting with tooth and claw - Jeongguk can feel the vampire draw blood with his nails, and he doesn't hesitate to take a chunk out of the leech's arm when it comes too close to his face.

What would Y/N think if she saw you like this? He squashes the thought. Perhaps there is no honor among the undead - they must fight to survive, through whatever means necessary.

A split second of distraction is all it takes for the other vampire to pick him up like he weighs nothing, tossing him against a nearby wall with superhuman strength.  Jeongguk's eyes widen, hearing the air whoosh by his ears before an ominous crack in his chest reverberates in his body.

He grunts upon impact.  A broken rib, probably.  It hurts, but he refuses to show how much it does - letting the bloodsucker see the pain would be a victory to his opponent.

The bloodsucker stalks to where Jeongguk lies slumped against the floor with a hand cradled around his chest.  "Not so tough now, little Taekwondo boy?"

I trust you to walk out of there safe and hurt as little as possible, Jin's voice echoes in his head.  Do it for Y/N.

He raises a claw, ready to deliver the killing blow.  He sneers down at the younger vampire.  "You've gotten better, little Taekwondo boy.  But still not good enough."

Jeongguk grits his teeth through the pain.  "You're wrong," he growls, voice deadly quiet.  He smiles coldly.  His jaw is clenched, eyes stormy blue.  "Goodbye."

He yanks the stake out of his pocket with superhuman speed and rams it into the bloodsucker's chest with all the strength he has.

It goes right through the heart.

The bloodsucker's eyes widen in shock before an unholy wail rips out of his mouth.  Jeongguk watches, emotionless, as the vampire before him explodes into smoke and ash.  The air of death weighs heavily in the air, the scent of blood lingering on the floor, on his skin.  Death tastes bitter on his tongue, but the primal, sadistic side of him savors the taste.

Jeongguk hears and smells them coming before he sees - two pairs of footsteps; two males, one smelling like rain and the other like pine wood.  It smells clean, but the vampire crinkles his nose when he sees them.

They're hunters, dressed in dark jeans and leather.  There are only two of them, alone, attracted by the miasma of death and the bloodsucker's last scream.  From his position in the dark, he sees the light of a torch flicker.  It doesn't shine on him.

"Namjoon, what do you sense?" One hunter asks.

The hunter - Namjoon - hums thoughtfully.  "Somebody's already done our job for us.  Two vampires, one's dead.  I can't sense where the other one is."

'Sense' is an odd word to use in this situation, but Jeongguk doesn't question it.  He doesn't know why Namjoon the hunter is sparing him, but he's glad.  If they're here, they were probably planning to kill him.

"Are you sure?" The other hunter presses.  "There's blood around here." He pokes around at Y/N's bloodstains, but the other hunter still shakes his head, telling his partner one vampire is gone and the only thing left of the other is ash and dust.

Jeongguk glances at himself.  His shirt is stained black with blood, skin peeling from his knuckles, a long gash running down one calf,  On the other calf, there are crescent moons marked in blood.  His chest aches from the pain of a broken rib, and he knows he won't heal unless he feeds.

It's time for him to leave.

He lopes off into the shadows and leaves the hunters to their work, an insignificant part of the night once more.

[supposed2bfunny]

Day 4 of 2doc Week

Day 4-Cyborg 2D AU

Things had been relatively peaceful on Plastic Beach.

As peaceful as things could ever be when the Black Cloud were constantly dropping bombs on the tiny mass of rubbish floating in the middle of the ocean.

After a few good recording sessions and some drunken heart-to-hearts, Murdoc and Stuart had settled into fairly good terms in spite of their situation, and the bassist had agreed to let the singer wander through their temporary home while they recorded the remainder of the album. No longer confined to just his downstairs dungeon of a bedroom, the younger man was happy to be allowed to make his way into the kitchen anytime he fancied a cup of tea and some crackers, or to scour the shores of the island, gathering debris and bringing it back inside to craft to his liking.

One morning however, Murdoc realized that he hadn’t seen the young man in quite some time. Plastic Beach was small; they were always running into one another.

Murdoc stalked up and down the shores of the island, then searched the recording studio, the kitchen, and the recreation room, growing more frantic with every rounded corner that failed to reveal his bluebird.

“Cyborg!” he barked.

Cyborg Noodle appeared behind him almost at once since it was never that far from him. Wordlessly, it stepped forward, green eyes blank and awaiting an order.

“Find the dullard,” he said with a snap of his fingers. “Tell him I’m looking for him.”

It nodded and took off, boots clicking down the narrow linoleum-lined hallway. A pang of dread hit his stomach when he realized that the guitarist was starting with the lowest floor where several submarines were waiting in case an emergency escape was necessary.

Stuart wouldn’t try to leave him, would he?

As that fear struck him, another, even sharper one hit.

No. There was no way.

Heading in the opposite direction of Cyborg, he raced to the highest level of the building, to the storage unit. There was a ladder there that led out to the roof. If Stuart had been wandering around looking for something to do, it would certainly have seemed like a nice opportunity to clamber up onto the roof and take in the vista up top.

But if he had looked to the left on his way up the stairs, he would have noticed some of the retired contraptions Murdoc had built in his time alone on the island.

He knew as soon as he entered the storage unit that his worst fear—far worse than Cyborg Noodle coming across a missing submarine pod—had been actualized.

“Murdoc,”

Stuart’s voice was soft. So soft, and so lacking in any emotion.

He didn’t turn to face the bassist when he entered the room. He knew by the click of his heels that it was Murdoc who stood behind him.

“There you are,” the older man said, doing his best to sound annoyed. “Been looking for you all morning. Maybe don’t just up and disappear without warning, eh?”

“Murdoc,” he repeated. “What the fuck is this?”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. He knew the singer could hear it; his breathing was so loud due to his ugly busted cartilage. He took a step closer to Stuart, who held a hand up, indicating that the older man was not to come any closer.

“Answer me, Murdoc.”

“Mate, come on now. You got over the one I made of her, I don’t see why—”

“You were going to replace me with a fucking robot?” Stuart rounded on him then, his eyes white and his thick brows knitted together in a fury the bassist had never seen in their years of friendship. His voice cracked on the last word, and he pointed to the cyborg hanging by a few wires against the wall, a cyborg that bore an uncanny resemblance to him.

“Dents, calm down.”

“Sorry, who were you talking to? Me, or him?” He spun around to look again at the cyborg 2D. It resembled a younger Stuart, more like he had looked during their first album, with darker hair, its face still smooth and devoid of age lines. Its eyes were closed, and if you looked only at its face, you might think it was a young man asleep. But a huge wire came out of its chest and connected to a computer monitor nearby. Several dozen smaller wires stuck out of its back and limbs. The cyborg was nude save for a pair of black shorts, almost like its order of business upon waking would be to go down to the beach and relax in the sunshine. But sections of its skin were missing, alabaster panels pulled back to reveal hardware and more wires coiled tightly together.

With a trembling finger, Stuart reached out and touched the cheek of his robot rendition, jumping slightly when his finger connected to the smooth, cool material that was harder than flesh but softer than plastic. The cyborg did not respond.

“It’s not plugged in,” Murdoc said, crossing his arms over his chest. “It can’t hear or feel or see you.”

“Great, so why the fuck did you build it then?” he demanded, hesitantly stepping away from the machine so he could stare down his bandmate instead. Again, Murdoc hesitated, not sure how to begin to justify his behavior, and the singer surprised him when he grabbed the front of his sweater and shook him roughly. “Answer me!”

“Because I missed you, okay?”

Not the right answer. Stuart only sneered. “So you thought you’d make a robot slave of me to order around, same as you did with Noodle after you killed her?”

“I didn’t kill her you twat, so stop saying that,” Murdoc snarled, shoving the taller man’s hands off of his sweater, and now he was raising his voice too, and they were both yelling in the dark, musty room. “I didn’t kill her, and I only built Cyborg Noo—the cyborg of her because I needed a guitarist. The Black Clouds had just zeroed in on my location, so I also needed protection. We’ve been over this. I’m not trying to replace her.” No matter how many times he explained it, he never felt any less filthy for having built that blasted thing.

Stuart looked again at the cyborg, pinned up against the wall by wires like some sort of futuristic Christ on a cross. “Well I was alive and you knew that, so why the cyborg of me?”

“Because I didn’t know where you were at the time, I was searching for you.”

“And even though you knew I was alive, you were gonna replace me, huh? Can that thing sing? Can it?”

Murdoc pointed to a second monitor tipped onto its side near the robot. “That,” he said. “That has copies of every song we’ve ever recorded with your vocals. Interviews too. I was gonna program them all into it so it could sing like you. Didn’t get around to it though before I found your location in Lebanon. I don’t know if I could have handled hearing it sing with your voice—” he shook his head, at a loss for words.

“Well if you didn’t want an imitation, then why did you build it?” the singer refused to let the topic drop, and his anger was clearly not subsiding either, though it had clearly hurt him to learn that its intended purpose was indeed to replace him.

“What do you want me to say, faceache? I missed you okay?”

“Murdoc, that’s fucking demented to say that you built a robot of me to replace me just because you missed me!”

“Well I think it’s demented to leave your friend all alone and fuck off to Beirut, so agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Not the same thing,” he answered. “You never told me the full story of what was going on. One day, everything’s going fine, the next day, Noodle is fucking dead and Russel has taken off and I just needed to clear my head for a bit, I was so messed up and depressed and you never helped me in the past when I was depressed. I needed some time alone. Clearly, you didn’t though, since you just kept building a band without me.”

“I made this out of desperation, Dee!” Murdoc groaned. “Don’t you get that? This thing was just something for me to obsess over while I searched for you, something to keep my hope going that you were out there, somewhere, that the Black Clouds hadn’t gotten you too. This thing,” he motioned to the cyborg, “it was my only way to stay sane alone here, thinking about the real you.”

“What is wrong with you? Why were you so obsessed with finding me and bringing me here to this hell?” the younger man demanded.

“Because I fucking love you!” Murdoc shouted, regretting the admission instantly.

Stuart’s jaw dropped and his hands flew up to his face, brushing his hair out of his eyes, scratching his cheek, anything to keep his fingers busy as adrenaline pumped through him.

“Really, Murdoc? This is where you finally say it to me?”

“Shit, I didn’t mean that. Forget I said anything! Just forget it!” he tried looking at the floor, at the ceiling, anything but the pain on Stuart’s face.

“All the years I poured into helping you sort your life out, and this is how you finally say it to me,” he hissed, pushing past Murdoc and heading for the door.

“Stu, please, wait!” he begged. “Let me explain, I’ll start over, I explain everything…” he lowered his voice, relieved when the younger man stopped right before crossing the threshold of the door and turned around, heading back in.

He walked right past Murdoc and over to the cyborg, which he grabbed by the shoulders and yanked out from the wall with all his might.

A dozen or so wires snapped instantly; others squeaked as they were yanked out of sockets and hard drives set up along the robot’s feet. Murdoc watched in silence as the singer grabbed the wire that fed right into the cyborg’s chest and pulled it out hard and fast. With a sickening pop, the wire snapped out of the robot’s heart, and Stuart let his doppelganger drop to the floor with a heavy thud. He rounded on Murdoc, wire still in his hand.

Murdoc flinched, waiting for the cable to be whipped against his head. The blow never came, and when he opened his eyes, he found tears streaming down the younger man’s face.

“I’ve tried,” the singer whispered. “I’ve tried so damn hard to love you. Why do you make it so impossible?” he dropped the wire and rushed out of the room.

For a while, Murdoc just stood there. Slowly, he strode over to the fallen cyborg and picked it up so it wasn’t lying face-down. Gingerly, he brushed the gossamer-soft hair out of its face.

He sat there for a long time, thinking.

[chimswae]

Chapter 15

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance

Word Count: 3,098

Author Note: I crosspost this story from my Asianfanfic account. Mind you, clicheness OVERLOADS

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Chapter 15: Some people can be oh-so human after all

“Is that blood?”

 “Shit what the hell happen to both of you?”

”WHO DID THIS?”

 “IS NUNA OKAY?”

 Yeoul heard indistinct mumbled from outside, as she got changed into clean cloth. The boys were already circling Jimin like a wolf pact. Questions after questions fired from every corners which annoyed Jimin but they toned down as soon as their eyes lied on Yeoul.

Frozen in her spot, she felt all eyes were on her and it mortified her “Sister-in-law!! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” someone crashed against her body, squishing Yeoul into a tight hug. Baffled, she could tell from the sweet voice; it was sunshine Jhope. He was the only one who was ignorant enough to initiate an over the top skinship with her.

 “Whoa chill.. Hoseok oppa I’m alright” Yeoul stifled her giggles. Jimin was unhappy of course,his stare was throwing daggers at the older boy.

 He pulled away and squished her cheeks together “You alright? You okay? Did you get hurt?Oh my I didn’t know they dare to do that! That is inhuman of them!” no one could stop Hobi from overreacting, not even Min Suga.

Wait a minute, why would we bring Min Suga in this matter?  

 Nodding with a smile, Yeoul patted his head “It is alright. I have to get used to it don’t I? Since I am associated with a big name like Bangtan Sonyeodan” she joked.

 “Lil sis, we will protect you from the world since we are family now. So if anyone dare to hurt you in any way, they have to answer us” acting like an older oppa he was, Jin squished her hand as an assurance. Yeoul smiled genuinely feeling blessed with all the supports that she obtained from people surround her, oh well that exclude Bang PD.

 She had no idea what was in that old man mind, cross fingers.

 Manager hyung called out everyone to the conference room, and it was the moment of truth. Jimin and Yeoul relationship depended on Bang PD final decision, if he said no then they must find way to fix the mess.

 “Nuna…Good luck” Jungkook shyly gave a light pat on Yeoul’s head. His nose scrunched up cutely as he put on his infamous innocent like deer eyes smile.

 “Thank you Jeon..” she slid her hands in Jimin’s warm one as they made their ways side to side to the conference room. Her fears doubled upon seeing Bang PD sat at the end of the table with a tense expression.

 His head snapped meeting Yeoul’s orbs, but she was quick to hide her face in Jimin’s arm. The older man seemed friendly on screen, however to face him off screen was slightly different. Bang PD’s leadership and charisma were too much for normal people like her to comprehend.

 Jimin’s belly churned in fear as he could sense Yeoul body tense up. He didn’t want to transfer a negative vibe to everyone in the room especially not to Yeoul when he’s supposed to lead her in this.

 After everyone settled down in their seat, Bang PD broke the silence, “Nice to meet you in person Na Yeoul-ssi” it startled her since she didn’t expect the older guy to sound a little too friendly.

 Would it be normal for him to be furious?

 “I am sorry for the ruckus..I..should have been more careful” Yeoul looked down not dare to meet his gaze who penetrated the deepest core in her heart. Jimin heaved out a soft sigh, interlacing their hand tighter hoping the energy flows was enough to kick away the fear in her.

 Biting her lower lips, she rubbed his palm in circle with her thumb. Only god knows how petrified she was and at the same time Jimin’s gregarious presence beside her helped to stabilize her messy emotion. Others were anxiously tapping their foot on floor waiting for another words coming out from Bang PD mouth.

 “Yeoul-ssi, I think you have nothing to be sorry about. I am upset because Jimin keeps this away from me when he is supposed to tell me so that I can protect both of you if something like this happen” he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

 “Bang PD….” Jimin tilted his head with an apologetic look. He realized it was his mistake from start, now it was too late to cry over spilled milk.

 He continued “Are you alright? I heard chaos in front of your home. How’s your son?” everyone in the room finally could normalize their breathing knowing Bang PD was not as angry as before. In fact, the older man looked concern rather than piss off.

 “We are alright, don’t worry. Minyeol was a little shook but he’s doing fine. So, I left him with my mother back home. Don’t want to scare that poor kid anymore. Thank you for asking..” the corner of her lips were tugged into a grateful smile.

 Bang PD smiled weakly “ Good to hear that. Press can be troublesome, I heard about you from Jimin. I have question so I hope it doesn’t offend you, may I?” she nodded with a smile nevertheless how nervous she was.

 “Why are you searching for Jimin after years keeping the truth buried with you? Do you have other ulterior motives?”

 Jimin eyebrows arched in confusion not knowing how to react to Bang PD’s questions, should he be offended over it but Yeoul was calm as hell. It was no time to be calm when people were questioning her so called ulterior motives just to degrade her. Even so he was positive Bang PD’s question meant no harm but still it was pointing out that way.

 “I do not want Minyeol to be fatherless. I know how it feels to grow up without a fatherly love and attention, and I craved for it every moment. I was selfish to keep this away from Jimin and Minyeol. If and only I tell Jimin earlier things would be different by now. Neither do I wish to ruin Jimin’s career nor I want to see Minyeol living his life longing for Jimin every single day. I do not have any ulterior motive, I am not here for money. I truly care for Jimin, always” she calmly answered his question without feeling offended or upset.

 Oddly, this felt like a daughter-in-law kind of situation whom seek blessing from the groom’s father before they got married. After all Bang PD is like the boys’ father here so she understood why he acted this way, prying answers and explanation. He was being protective.

 “Yeoul…I am sorry that you have to raise this child alone all those years. You are a strong girl indeed. I am happy that Jimin stood up for you and your son. And, I am not here to punish you or Jimin. We’re here for the damage control” he smiled softly. Finally took him long enough to loosen up a bit.

 Wrapping his arms around Yeoul shoulder, Jimin cracked a wide smile “Thank you Bang PD. I don’t plan on leaving her” their eyes met, as they exchanged a meaningful smile.

 “I have never seen you this happy Jimin” Namjoon whistled supported by others.

 “Love is in the air” said Taehyung with a teasing smile.

 Yeoul blushed in her seat, turning her face to Jimin with her infamous puppy eyes wishing that he could hinder them from teasing them further. Other snickered awfully low upon witnessing their little scene though it was not a big deal but who could stop sonyeodan? If they could not find any way to tease their fellow bandmates, they would still find a way somehow.

 The older man shook his head, probably getting used to see how these boys acted “The damage control. We will be releasing the official statement, and Jimin you need to come out with a written statement” he exclaimed.

 She gasped “Oh my god, you will admit to everything?”

 “Why not?” Jimin shrugged.

 “THAT IS NOT HEALTHY FOR YOUR CAREER! What if they trash you? Like…what they said on the internet” she bit her lower lips,toning down her voice.

 “Baby, seriously those comments are bunch of bullshits. I told you to not go near to the internet, what are you doing lurking around there?” he stroked her bangs away and gazing into her eyes softly.

 “Jim… but…” she held his wrist with a concern look. Tarnishing his image was the last thing in her life dictionary.

 Jimin took her hand, planting a soft kiss on it “Trust me. Give me chance to prove to you that I am worthy. I will not let go this hand again never” he whispered. Yeoul did not like this idea after all but considering there were many eyes on her at the moment, she gave him a meek smile and nodded in agreement.

 She feared things turned ugly after his confession to the public. On top of that, Yeoul never thought of admitting this to everyone when she assumed Bang Pd would make her leave Jimin instead. Guess, not all agencies were inhuman after all. Some might be the villains but Bangtan was lucky to have Bang PD as their employer.

 “So.. I think we settle one matter for now. We will be announcing the official statement in few days since the press are on fire. They have been bombarding us with questions. Just to remind you, official press conference to be announced once we sort this out” Bang PD reasoned.

 “Since it is unwise to let Yeoul staying outside judging from the uproar outside, I suggest Yeoul to stay in your dorms from the time being. Will it be okay for you?” he continued and eyes flustered Yeoul.

 Yeoul mustered her courage to reply him without sounding like a damn dolphin “Hmm.. I am okay with that.. T-hank.. you” she bowed politely.

 Did she hear it wrongly? She had to stay in Bangtan’s dorm, how embarrassing.

 Shoot, it was not embarrassing but they were talking about staying in a dorm with bunch of guys.

 Not literally ‘bunch’ since it was confirmed there would be 98% of male populations in the house and 2% female which was her.

 Chill Na Yeoul, it is not like you will see them running around the house naked. She mentally cursed.

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

 Speaking of staying with a 98% of male population in the house, guess she was wrong about that point of not seeing them running around naked. That morning she woke up as early as she could since Yeoul intended to prepare breakfast for the boys, and most importantly to avoid any unforeseen incident happen like bumping into shirtless male after shower and so forth.

 Frankly speaking, it surprised her to see Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok were already lined up in front of the bathroom this early. These guys were about to knock each other off if they kept on standing there doing nothing.

 Jungkook stifled his yawn only to be greeted by Yeoul’s curious eyes “Oh morning..You are up early?” he smiled in the midst of his drowsiness.

 “Morning Jungkook. Mmm.. I thought no one would be awake this early since you guys got back quite late yesterday. What are you doing queuing here?” she glanced at sleepy Hoseok and Namjoon whom seem not bothered by her existence there.

 “Jin hyung is in the bathroom. It has been like one hour and I’m dying to pee” he mumbled cutely.

 Yeoul only nodded, puffing her cheeks “He must be scrubbing his dead skin” she stood beside Jungkook waiting for her turn. To their surprise, Taehyung came out from the bathroom followed by half naked Jin who only had towel hang around his torso.

 “Shit…. what are you two up to?” Namjoon’s eyes shot open as soon as he saw those two odd couples coming out from bathroom together.

 Flabbergasted Yeoul stared at Jin blankly as her body stiffened in her spot.

 “JIN HYUNG WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING TOGETHER IN ONE SMALL BATHROOM?” Hoseok shrieked dramatically.

 Unlike Jin, Taehyung was fully dress and looked ready to hit the sack again. He yawned loudly and walked passed them with a small nod, he didn’t even answer questions from the floor leaving them dumbfounded.

 “Kim Taehyung decided to barge in because he wanted to take a dump” Jin mumbled under his breath with annoyed face. Little did he knew, there was a 2% female population just right in front of him,staring at his exposed body. Oh, maybe he had something to flaunt like his wide shoulders, something to be proud off at least.

 Namjoon poked his side causing the older guy to squirm feeling a little ticklish “Oh.. that is scandalous. I think we might need another written statement in few days to declare your relationship with Tae” he joked. Jin wanted to get away from Namjoon childish tease.

 The maknae turned to face blank Yeoul “Nuna.. are you alright? Yeoul nuna?” he poked her cheeks trying to bring back her attention back to him. Just before she could tore her eyes from the sore sight before her, she witnessed an oh-not-so-cool scene. Namjoon and Jin teasing had moved to another level that caused Jin’s towel to slip down from his waist.

 Yeoul loud squealed caused everyone to stop from whatever they were doing, especially Jin who just happened to realize Yeoul was there with them this all time. Jin eyes widened as he quickly squish his legs together and covered his private part with his hands.

 ‘Okay what did I just see. I did not just witness that’ she mentally slapped herself. A pair of hand covered her eyes from back as the owner hissed under his breath “What in the world, do I have to remind you we have female guest here? Do not wander around with your towel hyung!” Jimin frowned.

 Thoughtful Namjoon picked up the towel, wrapping it around Jin’s waist “Shit this is all your fault” Jin shot the leader a dangerous glare.

 Flustered Jungkook was embarrassed of his hyungs childish fight, so he decided to break the awkwardness to give Yeoul time to regain her soul back to her body. The maknae then pushed the two older boys inside their room before things got worsened.

 Jimin shook his head, looking unhappy “How childish” being the only reasonable man in the area, Hoseok entered the bathroom not intending to join the fight.

 “Okay you need to get Jin hyung naked body out from your mind” he turned Yeoul to face him and as expected the girl was already crimson red.

 “Jimin that is dizzying” she pursed lips into a slight pout.

 He rolled his eyes in annoyance “This wont do, i wont let Jin hyung’s little minion dirtying your mind” with that he pulled Yeoul entering the room he shared with Hoseok and locked the door behind him.

 “Yah you don’t need to lock the doors, I need to prepare breakfast for everyone!” she flailed her arm like kids throwing their tantrum. She marched down to open the door but only to be blocked by Jimin body, he continued to step forward which flustered Yeoul.

 “Park Jimin… you are scaring me.. get away” her voice crack as she nervously averted her gaze from meeting Jimin’s intense one. Yeoul’s back was pressed against the cold wall behind her, Jimin lips were tugged into a playful smirk.

 “We still have to cleanse your corrupted mind though.. We have to replace it with something else” he palmed the wall beside her trapping Yeoul in between. Jimin stole few kisses right on her lips causing the shy girl turned into fifty shades of red.

 One of his free hands pulling her torso close to his body, as he leaned in for a soft but passionate kiss. She could feel his body heat against her, Yeoul’s mind tried to resist his kiss. To her dismay, it didn’t work that way, she ended up kissing him back as passionate as he was.

 Twirling her fingers in his hair, she nibbled his lower lips playfully earning a low groan from him. Now how on earth he sounded so sexy, at this early. She should refrain herself from having dirty thoughts but Park friggin Jimin was excreting an unnecessary sound. Not to mention his hands were all over body, it just felt so right.

 Within a second, they were already on his bed with Yeoul under him. He licked her lower lips before moving further to her neck. A simple kiss turned out to be an unexpected make out session, and who knew where else this could lead to?

 Not be able to surpass her voice any longer, she let out a low moan when he reached the most sensitive part of the body. Teasing, nipping, sucking and pampering it with so much love, she bit her lower lips holding back herself from screaming it aloud. The pleasure was too real to be truth. It had been so long since they got this close, it amused her how he still remember every sensitive areas on her bodies which drove her crazy.

 Clothes scattered on floor and the only thing left was her thin fabric covering her most fragile area and so did Jimin. He finally freed her and continued to shower kisses there, earning a deep grunt from Yeoul. One of her hands was locking his hair, as her legs gave away to the pleasure down there.

 “Jims…Please…” her breath hitched. Yeoul was reaching her peak and he knew it, just how he intended it to be.

 Winking at her way, Jimin continued to love her with his skillful tongue. Her body tense as she exhaled a deep breath feeling the ecstasy from his sinful tongue love making. After spending few more minutes there, Jimin slid up kissing her with so much passion.

 “I love you Yeoul.. so much” he whispered between kisses.

 Smiling like an angel, she stroked his bare back and murmured “I love you too” her voice was driving her insane waking up the beast in him. Oh well, should we blame anyone here?

 “So do you want it bare or covered” Jimin whispered teasingly.

 “PARK JIMIN!” she slapped his arm slightly embarrassed upon hearing the request.

 He bit her nose softly with a chuckle “Well it is upon request, I’m giving you choice”  

 “Mmm.. whichever that you want, I am giving you permission” she hummed.

 “Then bare is the answer” he laughed before leaning in for another breathtaking kiss.

 They were being human. Human with needs.

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This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2019. All Rights Reserved

[iris-writes-things]

Crazy, Millennial Love Story chapter 13

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut!

Like a kettle on a raging fire, Keith starts squealing when things get too hot under his feet. The pressure is off, misunderstandings are addressed, and Keith can finally breathe easily again. 

For now, at least.

Chapter 13 of ? Ongoing 3246 words Modern/romance

Keith was comfortable. He was comfortable, safe, warm and… moving? He groaned as he cracked an eye open. “Where am I?” He mumbled as he took in his surroundings. He was in a car. The one that belonged to Hunk’s mother, to be precise, with the chef behind the wheel. He was lying, spread over the back seat, leaning against Shiro’s chest, the man’s arm firmly around his waist as he couldn’t wear a seat belt in this position, and covered in all three of their coats. That sure explained the warmth. Every pothole, every bump of hastily fixed asphalt that was characteristic for any road in the metropolis’ downtown area only worsened his headache, though. He must have had one Hell of a fall. “Where are we going?”

“What? Dude, we’re taking you to the hospital!” Hunk called from behind the wheel. “You fainted, remember? You were well fed, you had enough to drink, but not too much either. You had literally no reason to pass out, so we’re getting you checked out.”

“W-What?! No!” Keith protested as he kicked the coats off his legs, sitting upright. “I’m fine, I swear!” He only stopped struggling when he felt Shiro’s prosthetic tighten around his waist.

“Keith… You’ve been acting weird all month. I’m worried about you, you know. What if it’s something serious?”

“I know…” Keith mumbled, settling back into the man’s chest. “But I’m really okay, physically speaking. You don't have to take me to a doctor." He pleaded, and not much later, he felt the car come to a halt as Hunk pulled into a parking space by the road.

"But, if it's not physical, then what is it?" Hunk asked, turning in his chair to look in the back seat. Keith noticed traces on cheeks from old tears. He’d have to somehow make this up to him, but it would have to wait. He had to talk himself out of this situation first.

"Just stress, I guess." Keith said. It wasn't a lie, just a gross oversimplification, and Hunk seemed to be buying it. "The last two months have just… It's been a lot to adjust to."

"Right, I get it. But try not to overwork yourself, okay? I know it can be tempting, but you need to be careful with what jobs you do and don’t take."

If it was up to Keith, Hunk would never find out how hard he just hit the nail on its head, though. "I'll be careful." He mumbled solemnly.

"Good. Now if you guys don’t mind, I’ll drive you home." Hunk said optimistically as he started the car again, driving the two of them back to their apartment.

Even though Keith was now conscious and sitting up in his own seat, Shiro maintained his death grip on Keith’s waist. Hunk might have bought Keith’s excuse, but the older man wasn't having it. Deep down, Keith was painfully aware of this. He shouldn’t have been caught off guard by what came next.

"Is this somehow about my relationship with Allura?" Shiro asked, performatively staring out the window, resting his chin on his hand, to further drive home the casual, disinterested tone he had delivered the question in. Keith tensed under Shiro's arm, he knew Keith hated it whenever he feigned indifference, possibly even more than when it was real. "I knew it!" He shouted. “This is about me dating Allura!”

"How did you know?!" Keith asked, looking at him in bewilderment.

"Keith, buddy, it really doesn't take a detective to figure that out. All month, you've been moping in your bed, which really wouldn't be weird for you, but not once did I come home to the apartment smelling like weed. You've been losing your appetite halfway through or skipping meals altogether,"

"Skipping meals?!"

"at so much as a mention of Allura, and you've been making me promise to be safe and call you if anything went wrong, but only when I went out with Allura. Keith, you're even skinnier than when you moved in with me three years ago. Did you really think I wouldn't notice something was up?"

"Shiro, I..." Keith stammered, his vision blurring as tears welled up in his eyes. "I-I don't… I just wanted to..."

"Protect me?"

Keith nodded. Shiro sighed.

"You know, I've actually talked about this with Allura. See, before we met I used to date this guy who thought he had to protect me from the world, and seeing as you don’t know about his existence and apparently came to the conclusion that I'm heterosexual, it's safe to say that that relationship didn't work out."

Keith could only look up at the man. Eyes like saucers, his jaw slack, and his mind was having more than a little trouble keeping up.

"But we can talk about that later if you want. What's important now is that, yes, I'm technically physically disabled, and yes, my mental stability isn't what it used to be, but I'm not naive. Being a cop in the big city does that to you. I trust Allura and Coran, which only leads me to the question 'Why don't you?'"

Keith shook his head, looking down at his feet to hide the tears in his eyes only to make them fall to his lap immediately. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me.” Shiro said sternly. “If something happened to you, I want to know it. Trust is a two way street, remember? You can talk to me."

Keith sobbed and rubbed the tears from his eyes. That’s right. Shiro trusted him. And while it was difficult, Keith knew he had to trust Shiro as well. "Remember when I took that job from that anonymous number?"

"And I told you you were pretty stupid for not asking the guy's name? Oh, I remember."

"Thanks for rubbing that in. Anyway he introduced himself to me when he arrived at our meeting point. He said his name was Lotor."

"Oh boy. That couldn’t have ended well..." Hunk squeaked from behind the wheel, sinking in his seat ever so slightly, but it was enough to catch Shiro's attention.

"You know this Lotor guy, Hunk?" Shiro asked.

The man behind the wheel nodded. "Yeah, I know him, alright. We all do. We just don’t particularly like bringing him up. He’s something of a collective trauma I really wish you guys wouldn’t have to deal with.”

“How come?” Shiro asked curiously.

“Have you guys ever seen Scott Pilgrim?” Hunk checked. “Like, Allura doesn't need seven evil exes. She just has one evil ex with the combined spite and saltiness of at least ten evil exes." He said as he squeezed the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. "He tries to scare off anyone who would be her friend or potential romantic partner. And what’s worse is that he’s successful pretty often. We've all had to deal with him. It got ugly most times, but now we just block him and as many of his teenage cronies we can on all of our platforms. It's easy enough, I'll show you guys how to do it some time."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Hunk, but he drew Keith out in the real world. I don't think it's as easy to keep a handle on a bitter ex and his posse of fangirls when they can physically come at you." Shiro argued.

"You're right." Hunk sighed in agreement. "And, I mean, not only is the physical threat concerning, but there's also the fact that this is the most unpredictable he's been since I've been friends with Allura. He’s never tried to approach us outside of the internet."

"What baffles me most is that he went for Keith, not for me, since I would be his direct competitor."

"It's because he knows we're close." Keith spoke up, driving the heels of his palms into his eyes in frustration. "He told me Allura did the shittiest things to him while they were dating, and then he made me promise to keep you safe."

"Two birds, one stone." Shiro concluded.

Keith's shoulders shook as a sob wracked through his body. "I'm sorry." He croaked. "I shouldn't have trusted some eccentric rando over you and Allura! I was just so scared..."

Shiro hushed him as he pulled Keith into a tight hug, firmly rubbing between his shoulders. "It's okay. For what it’s worth, if I had been in your shoes, I probably would have done the same. No offense, Hunk."

"None taken.” Hunk piped up from behind the steering wheel. “Ah, we're here."

"Trust me, it's worth a lot." Keith chuckled through his tears, muffled by Shiro's sweater. “And again, I’m sorry.”

"You should save your apologies for Allura, Keith. And Hunk, I can't let you drive home with a clear conscience. You can stay the night at our place." Shiro offered as he gathered up their coats.

"Thanks, that sounds great. I’ll call my mom to let her know."

"Hunk, babe, are you awake?" Keith asked as he stared at his darkened ceiling. It had to be at least 4 in the morning, but he didn't care enough to turn his head to take a look at his alarm clock. Hunk was warm and comfortable at his side, cuddled against him in Keith's cramped single bed.

"Yeah, I'm awake." Hunk mumbled, a hand coming up to brush the hair out of Keith's face. "Why?"

"I was just wondering..." Keith whispered, hesitating for a second. "If I had asked you about what Lotor told me about Allura, would you have believed me?"

A deep sigh escaped Hunk, tickling Keith’s neck, as he thought on his answer. "I don't think I would. I've known her for a few years, and Lotor and his fans have tried to drag me away from her too, and she supported me through all of it, so I'd have a hard time believing she could have been a bad, manipulative person."

"Then what would you do if you hadn't? What if you didn’t know the first thing about her, except what she posts online?" Keith asked as he rolled to his side, facing the other man.

"I… would listen to what you have to say. Then, I would talk to Allura, try to find some of the guys she dated other than Lotor, talk to them, and then take what I found back to you, and hope we could all come to a mutual understanding. Like… I don't like passing judgment based on rumors."

"I try not to, usually. I just don't know what came over me this time."

"Hey, it's okay. Shiro is your best friend. You were just worried. But… next time you're struggling with a dilemma like this, come talk to me, okay? I'll help you out."

"'Kay." Keith yawned. "Thanks Hunk. Good night."

"Good night, Keith."

“Allura?” Shiro tried, speaking into the receiver of his cell phone.

“Shiro, ohmigod! You took forever! Is Keith okay? What did the doctors say?” Allura’s voice came from the other side of the line. She sounded concerned. Scared. Panicked, even.

“We… never arrived at the hospital?” He hesitated.

“WHAT?!”

“No, wait, shit, I mean he woke up before we got there, and he told us what was wrong with him.”

“Right, and he can just tell what’s going on?” Allura asked. She didn’t sound too impressed.

“Well, yeah. He got really stressed. Like, a panic attack… And he passed out. Simple as that. Because we’re dating.”

“Because we’re dating?” She asked, disbelief dominant in her voice.

“Yeah. Apparently your ex didn’t come after me, like we expected. He just booked a shoot with Keith about a month ago, and he just put the most horrible ideas about you into his head, and he’s just been mulling on it for weeks. It’s been eating him from the inside.”

“I can’t believe I used to date that guy.” Allura sighed in exasperation. “To think that he would stoop so low.”

“It’s okay Allura, there’s no way you could have known it would go like this. It’s not fair to beat yourself up over this, so please don’t. I promise I’ll be better than him.”

A chuckle came from the other side of the line. “That’s not a high bar to raise, honey.”

‘Honey’. The idea that Allura would refer to him as such still reddened his cheeks, quickened his heartbeat and made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

“Shiro, listen… If you don’t want to go public with this, with what happened to Keith and all, and the chance of Lotor losing his shit, I understand.”

“No, I still want to. I don’t care about Lotor or what he might do. I love you, and I want the world to know. If you’ll let me, that is.”

“Trust me, I’ll let you. But what about Keith?”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll talk to him in the morning. We might come over later tomorrow if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind. I actually want to see him in person after what he pulled earlier.”

“I completely understand.” Shiro chuckled. “So… uh… good night, I guess?”

“Right. Good night, love.”

“Good night, sweetheart.” It was still so alien to him; being in an intimate, romantic relationships, being called ‘honey’, ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’, and calling his partner ‘honey’, ‘love’ and ‘sweetheart’ in return. It felt alien, but it felt good.

It felt right.

It was 11 in the morning by the time Shiro and Keith were on the bus to Allura’s apartment again. Hunk had gone home about an hour earlier, but not before making breakfast and ensuring the three of them were well fed and ready to tackle the day. Especially Keith. It was sweet how concerned he was for his well being, Keith thought. He wasn’t used to all this love and affection being directed at him. Even Shiro wasn’t as hands-on as Hunk was. He would have to make it up to his boyfriend, someday. Maybe with some grand gesture, like in the movies. But that would have to wait for now. There was something else on his mind altogether.

“About last night…” Keith started, glancing at the man sitting across from him. “You said you used to have a boyfriend, right? That wasn’t just my pounding skull talking to me?”

“Nope, that was all me.” Shiro said, smiling sheepishly. “But yeah, I had a boyfriend in high school.”

“And not just because you were ‘bi-curious’?”

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m a full-blown bisexual.” Shiro said as his smile became more confident.

“So, then, why didn’t you tell me?” Keith asked.

Shiro only shrugged. “It never came up.”

“Dude, I came out to you!” Keith hissed, only not to shout on a bus full of people. “I’d call that ‘bringing it up’!”

“Hey, that was your moment. I didn’t want to make it about myself.”

Keith groaned in frustration. “While that’s really sweet and all, it really didn’t occur to you that telling me about this thing we have in common, being attracted to men, might make me feel better about myself? I mean, in all the time we’ve spent together, I’ve never once seen you look at a guy the way you look at Allura. There’s no way I could have just guessed.”

Shiro stared at Keith, a shocked, nervous smile on his face. “Yeah, you make a valid point there. And, I mean, I hope this thing with Allura is going to be long term, it would have taken even longer for you to find out… I’m sorry, Keith.”

“It’s okay.” Keith said, smiling sadly as he patted Shiro’s knee. “But seriously though, I’m happy for you and Allura. I’ve only ever seen you guys be good for each other.”

“Thanks, Keith. You have no idea what that means to me. Now, if I’m not mistaken, this is our stop.”

“Keith!” Allura yelled when she opened the door, flinging her arms around the shorter man’s shoulders, almost immediately pulling back to get a better look at him. He still wasn’t looking his best, but definitely better than last night. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She whispered as she pulled him into a more gentle hug this time. “You really scared us there, you know?”

“Yeah.” Keith mumbled. “I, uh, I have a rough idea. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pass out.”

“I don’t think anyone means to pass out.” Shiro joked, trying to make light of the situation, but quickly swallowed his words when the two glanced up at him, a near identical unimpressed pout on both their faces. “I’ll be quiet.”

“I hope you don’t mind, Keith, but Shiro called me last night to tell me about your situation… Nearly gave him a heart attack when he told me you guys never made it to the hospital.” She spoke as she gently punched Shiro in the arm. “He told me Lotor talked to you.”

“Boy did he…” Keith mumbled under his breath, glancing away from her, still feeling like he had somehow betrayed her. “I… I know I shouldn’t have trusted him. I knew you’d never do anything bad to Shiro, but there always was this tiny seed of doubt that something might go wrong, and it wrecked me.”

“Keith, no. Don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault, and you know it. I just wanted to warn you, because it might happen again. Especially when Shiro and I make our relationship public.”

“I’ll be ready for him this time.” Keith said, his eyes full with newfound determination. “I’ll know he’s a lying sack of shit and shouldn’t be trusted.”

Allura giggled, for the first time that day. “I appreciate the sentiment, Keith. Approaching people outside of the internet usually isn’t his way of doing things, though. He’ll be unpredictable to any of us from here on out.”

Keith only shrugged. “I tend not to think too far ahead myself. Unpredictability is just the way I roll.”

“If you say so, Keith.” Allura said, smiling ever so endearingly. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“After what I did, I’ll do just about anything to make it up to you.” Keith said, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Then would you take the picture for our announcement?” She asked again, offering Keith her camera. It was nearly identical to his own, with the exception of her more expensive and high-end lense and flash diffuser.

Keith smiled and gratefully took the camera in both hands. “Where do you want this taken?”

Allura took Shiro’s hand and lead him to the ceiling-high windows, overlooking the city skyline. “Here is fine.”

Keith nodded and got ready, bringing the viewfinder to his eye. “Come on, Shiro, smile. Do something, no need to be nervous.” He encouraged.

“Uh, well, okay.” Shiro mumbled when Keith went back to find the two of them through the lense again.

The next thing he heard was a loud whoop and giggle from Allura as Shiro swept her off her feet, cradling her in his arms like the princess she was. Keith chuckled as he clicked the shutter what had to have been at least ten times. He smiled genuinely, unlike last night, when he still worried for Shiro’s general well being. No, this time it felt right. They were friends. Close ones, after only a few months.

And Keith would never let anyone try to tear them apart ever again.

[boogiewrites]

Don’t call her Annie.

Characters: Jim Hopper x Reader (OFC)

Word Count: 2100+

Summary:  Annette Horowitz is Joyce's younger sister. She hasn't been the perfect sibling or aunt but after she finds out Will is missing, she finds herself crashing back into Hawkins to do everything in her power to help, driven by a need to prove herself. She hasn't been around much in the past 20 or so years, but when she comes back home she finds old friends, old habits and old feelings she'd thought she'd finally escaped. Can she really change or is she just kidding herself?

A/N: You guys said you wanted it, here is the introduction.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Warnings: Angst. Language. Fighting.

You can check out my other work on My Masterlist.

Tagged folks are at the bottom, if you’d like to be added or removed, just leave a reply and I’ll see it! Any positive feedback or messages are appreciated. Thanks!

The tires of your bike spray out gravel and you slam on your breaks in the driveway. This marked the end of your mad dash to get back to your sister after she'd told you your nephew was missing. You'd packed up and driven across the country that same day, this wasn't the first time you'd done this. It was the first time you'd had a real excuse to do it though. There was a car you didn't recognize in the driveway, you glare at it as you take off your helmet, unzipping your leather jacket and bounding towards the front door, your boots banging against the old wood porch. It always felt strange coming back here. You could hear loud voices fighting inside from the hole that was in the wall of the house, you had too many questions already. You try the doorknob and it's locked. Ruining your momentum you stand still and knock on the door.

"Get out of my house!!" you hear Joyce scream. You bang on the door, hard.

"Joy? You okay?" you beat the door continuously until it's opened. You look into the eyes of Lonnie. There was no one you hated as much as Lonnie. You doubted there ever would be.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you spit at him, shoving him hard out of the way and making your way to Joyce who was shaking in anger, her fists at her sides, breathing fast.

"I could ask you the same thing, Annie." he answers with venom. Before you wrap your arms around Joyce, who was beginning to tear up in anger, you stomp back towards Lonnie, backing him against the front door your finger pressing into his chest.

"You don't get to fucking call me that you piece of shit." you shove him and head back to Joyce. "I heard what she said, why don't you get the hell out of here?" you say as you don't look his way, you wrap your arms around your sister as tightly as you could.

She was the older of the two of you, but she hadn't been the "big" sister since you were around 12-years-old. After puberty hit you like an 18 wheeler, you'd grown up and out much more than her tiny frame had. You became almost comedically opposite in appearance. You were 5'8" to her 5'2". You'd elected to color your hair blonde. Too many curves came in too fast for your heart and brain to both simultaneously understand what to do with your new body and feelings fueled by raging hormones, so you found yourself in trouble much more often than she ever had. You'd learned later in life she was just better at not getting caught than you were. You were taller and sturdier, not naturally sweet or as polite as she was. The inherited genes you had both received were the big brown eyes of your mothers and that urge of protecting what was yours. At this moment you were particularly glad she was smaller than you, as you felt you could completely envelop her in your arms, trying to convey your emotions that you knew you were shit at expressing.

"I guess you haven't heard that he's dead." Lonnie says, still against the door. Joyce lets out an ugly sob, shaking her head. You squeeze her, pressing your face into the top of her head.

"I'm so sorry Joy." you whisper to her, while shooting daggers at Lonnie with your eyes.

"Use some god damn tact you neanderthal." your voice low, giving him a warning.

"You missed the funeral." your gut twisted at his words, you'd got here as fast as you could, you knew that.

"Be right back, Joy." you whisper in her ear as you let her go. "Maybe she won't throw your ass out of this house but I will, Lonnie." you shout at him, making your way back to him. "I don't care why she wants you gone. You should've never been here in the first place. You don't give a shit about them, get out." You hiss at him, your stance wide and ready to attack.

"Look, you haven't been here, you don't know-" he throws his hands up to speak and you knock them down, hard.

"YOU haven't been here for YEARS!" you scream, your arms in the air. "You don't get to say that you scum. Even when you were here, they were better off without you. I've hated you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I've been right about you since the start...you're a parasite." you see a duffle bag on the chair in the living room, assuming it's his. You pick it up and shove it into his arms. "I'm giving you one last chance, for her sake, to not beat the shit out of you and very literally throw you out of this house." you spew at him, pushing up on him, he wasn't that much bigger than you, but more importantly you weren't afraid of him.

"You're real cute, Annie, thinking you could-" You throw an uppercut under his ribs before he finishes his sentence, knocking the breath out of him.

"I'm not afraid of cowardly little boys who think they can hit women and children," you whisper, grabbing him by the hair. "Do I have to bash your skull in to make my point or are you gonna leave now?" you spit on him, shoving his head forcefully into the wall.

"Ann." you hear Joyce's soft voice pulling you away from maiming Lonnie.

"You need to leave." you say, slowly walking backward, away from him. You stand next to Joyce and he throws the bag over his shoulder.

"You deserve each other, your entire family has always been fuckin' crazy!" he shouts, retreating and opening the door. He mumbles under his breath as you move towards him again, he scurries out of the front door, you slam it shut behind him.

You rest your back against it and for the first time you look around the room you're in. There are holes in the walls, strings of lights, the alphabet is written on the wall, your expression must give away your confusion.

"I've got a lot to tell you, Ann." Joyce says, making her way towards you and placing her hand on your shoulder. "We should sit down." her face scrunches up in an unsure expression. You sit at the kitchen table, and she tells you everything.

You believe her because she's never lied to you before. You see and feel that she's being sincere and your heart breaks at everything she's had to endure without you here. Believing her was the absolute least thing you could do for her to attempt to even begin to make up for all your shortcomings. You feel so guilty for always falling short and running away when they started getting used to having you around again. But you'd never been good at dealing with your feelings. Especially when it came to feeling like you were falling into a domesticated lifestyle you'd find pictured on the cover of a magazine marketed to middle-aged women. Although it wouldn't be too long until you would be considered middle-aged, you'd always found the thought of a white picket fence as an analogy for being trapped in a cage.

You tell her you believe her, because you always have and you always will. This seems like what she needed, as her eyes weep and her mouth trembles, you hold her, letting her sob and mumble incoherently as her grief and exhaustion hit her in waves. "Everyone else thinks I'm crazy." she squeaks out.

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

You wake up from a nap, having showered and throwing your things into Joyce's room beforehand. You hear a man's voice in the other room, you crack open the bedroom door and listen. Once the voice is no longer filtered, you recognize it.

"Today?" he asks. Your body slumps at the realization. You can only hear him, you assume he's talking to Joyce.

"Jim." you whisper quietly, your eyes closing and you let out a heavy sigh.

"A motorcycle, huh?" he scoffs. Your eyebrow raises at you decide you'll continue to eavesdrop for now.

"I get that, but isn't it a bit...much?" he lets out a low chuckle. You roll your eyes and frown. What a square. Having a bike made much more sense to you than having a car did. You shrug off the comment.

"Sure, she always has been dramatic but," there a long pause in his words. "Maybe you're right. When I see her I'll let you know." you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You were always envious of the way he spoke to Joyce when you were younger. This brought back memories of hearing him sweet talk her when they didn't think they were paying attention. His tone just made your skin prickle up, you shake your body and arms once you shut the door silently. You go and sit on the bed, looking at the floor. You knew he'd been helping Joyce, you knew he'd been the Chief for a few years now, but you hadn't expected to see him so soon after getting back. You also hadn't expected how involved he was in this mess that found itself falling around your family. But here you were again, the childish feeling of being a third wheel to the two of them. You push back the feeling, rolling your eyes at yourself. Being home again always stirred up strange feelings you thought you'd forgotten. You pull on a pair of leggings, grabbing one of Jonathon's zip-up sweatshirts that Joyce had given you to wear. You had on one of your tank tops, the only other clothing item of your own available to you since Joyce had insisted on washing all your clothes. You put her house shoes on, they surprisingly weren't that small on you. You stood and stretched, ran a brush through your hair. You're slipping on the hoodie as you round the doorway into the kitchen.

He hadn't gotten a good look at you since you were 16, and now at 35, it took some work to see the wild little sister of his ex-girlfriend he once knew. You swang your hips out as you rounded the corner, all big blonde hair and thighs. He felt embarrassed for immediately noticing your body. He cracks a smile despite his disappointment in himself, and despite the angst you wore on your face.

"Annette Horowitz," he states slowly as you grab one of the beers you assume Lonnie had left in the fridge and sit at the table across from the hulking figure. He wore a grin on his face, the smoke from his cowboy cigarettes framing his face. "Last time I saw you, you ran away from me in a grocery store." he smirks, taking another drag. Joyce does her funny little silent laugh, scrunching her nose and looking at you. You hadn't told her about running into him a few years ago when you were home for Thanksgiving.

"Two Thanksgivings ago." you say in a sidebar to Joyce. She nods and continues smoking. "I didn't know if you recognized me," you lie, meeting his gaze. "It had been 20 years since we'd seen each other." Jim slides his cigarettes over towards you, you take one with a nod.

"Of course I did." he blows smoke out of the side of his mouth.

"Hop's got something you're going to want to hear." Joyce cuts in, gathering up the papers thrown all over the table. 

You'd noticed the papers but hadn't gotten past how Jim was looking at you to ask. So you sit like it's 20 something years ago and you're being babysat by the two of them, they're explaining their theories and you try to take it in. You'd heard plenty of questionable stories about the government over the years with the company you'd kept while traveling with hippies and activists to protest the Vietnam War. But being actually faced with it was something totally new. You'd knocked back at least 3 of Jim's cigarettes by the time they're finished with their story. You find yourself involved in the biggest cover-up in Hawkins history.

Chapter 2

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[overthinkingkdrama]

I'm the kind of person who doesn't write a thing about what I'm watching, but, I have to say I love Money Flower, and I love every post you make about it. You're not alone (?) ;) As a spoiler but something I have to say, I'm dying with Boo Cheon going badly, and it hurts that what finally crack him was Pil Joo's betrayal. Jang Hyuk's final face was too much :v

Thanks for dropping by to throw some gasoline onto the fires of my own personal hell, anon. I think I spent 3 hours ranting to my BFF about this exact subject yesterday. I was trying to organize my thoughts to write a post about it but I couldn’t. I feel ya. Oh yea, you and I are in the same boat.

In all seriousness, I love it when I get anonymous message that give me an excuse to write about something I was already privately ranty about. So thank you, lol.

[Fair warning…I went HAM on my reply. Sorry?? Huge spoilers for the show past this point, y’all.]

It was hard watching my three crazy kids fall apart this week. Especially Boo. The turn his character took this week broke my damn heart. Full disclosure: Boo Cheon is my favorite character in this garbage fire of a show. Has been for weeks now. I feel like I’m pretty much alone in that opinion. My mind twin, agaggleoffandoms (for whatever reason tumblr is refusing to let me @ her) and I are on the same page, but for the most part people seem to really hate Boo. I don’t get it. I can’t wrap my head around how you could love and root for Pil Joo in this whole thing, and yet have no sympathy for Boo Cheon whatsoever. Like, I get it, but I really don’t get it.

Okay, so, I think Kang Pil Joo is actually Satan himself and this is why…

First, let me disclaim and say that I like Pil Joo as a character. I like him a lot. I like the way Jang Hyuk is playing him. I like his scenes. I like him because he’s twisted and terrifying. I like what a manipulative monster he is. I went into the drama expecting it and I was not disappointed at all. He’s every bit the sociopathic puppet master the poster promised me. I watch this show because it’s a crazy-sauce makjang mess. I enjoy the characters because of how insurmountably dysfunctional they are.

Additionally, this isn’t supposed to be a post to justify Boo’s actions, or claims that he’s done nothing wrong. Clearly that’s not the case. I’m just trying to understand the audience’s reaction to him. Why I find myself rooting for him so much, and other people have no time for him at all.

The first thing Boo Cheon does at the beginning of episode 17 is threaten the mother of his child making it clear in no uncertain terms that if she goes through with the press conference and torpedo’s his chances to be chairman she’s as good as dead. That’s monstrous. I make no bones about that. I would just argue that Boo is merely the monster that Pil Joo has made of him.

If we’re going to completely jettison the possibility of Boo’s redemption arc based on that scene, Pil Joo shouldn’t be getting a pass. In the moral landscape of the show, Pil Joo has done everything Boo has done, but three shades darker.

Pil Joo has personally laid hands on Seo Won not once…

But two separate times….

He has also directly threatened her life on multiple occasions. He’s the Jang family fixer. We know how dirty his hands can get. The show has shown us. And we can argue all day long that Pil Joo never would have actually harmed her. That he was trying to put the fear of god into her because he was also a victim of Jang family violence toward mistresses and their unacknowledged children…but does that justify it? Boo has also on multiple occasions attempted to remove her from the situation, and taken steps to protect her from his family by bringing their son to Mooshimwon. Seo Won is either too foolhardy or too determined to take the hint. She revealed herself to Mo Hyun with malicious intent and became indirectly responsible for the loss of his unborn child.

He goes to the hotel room to meet Seo Won because Pil Joo sent him there. He threatens her with a knife–Pil Joo’s knife interestingly enough–making good on his promise not to let anyone stand between him and the chairman position. Why does he even want the chairman position? Because that’s what Pil Joo groomed him to want:

Sure, Boo has said that he wanted to become chairman for his own reasons now. He is motivated to succeed so that Mo Hyun will praise him and feel proud of him. He’s motivated to do it because he’s developed a real affection for his wife. He loves her enough to feel jealous over the prospect of losing her, to go head to head with his mother over her, and even to put his own life at risk for her. Why is he even married to Mo Hyun? Because of Pil Joo’s manipulations.

Everyone is in the position they’re in because of Pil Joo’s manipulations. Look at what he’s done to Mo Hyun! He lied repeatedly, fed Boo lines, write apology letters for him, engineered situations to further the seduction plot for his own personal benefit. He has continually withheld crucial information from her in order to control her actions. Because it all forwards his revenge plot.

Furthermore, he resents Mo Hyun for falling in love with Boo according to his own plot.

This is a pattern we have seen repeatedly. Since as early as episode 4:

Pil Joo blames other people for falling into his traps. He doesn’t take responsibility himself. He is “unable to stop himself” so they have to be the ones to resist him. He merely writes the scripts, he sets up the pieces, but if you fall for his tricks then it’s your own fault. That’s the attitude we’ve seen again and again.

And sure, he’s in denial. He obviously still has feelings for Mo Hyun. But those feelings have always been subordinate to his need for revenge, and continue to be sacrificed in the name of his goals. Along with the people around him, their lives and their happiness. Whether they deserve it or not. Everyone is expendable in the name of revenge.

He sets Mo Hyun up to hear the ugly truth about their deception and her arranged marriage as though he’s about to tell her everything, but then he only tells her enough to break her and drive her away from Mooshimwon. He didn’t even tell her why he, the real Jang Eun Cheon, is hiding his identity and staying in that family. He didn’t tell her why he was doing what he was doing. He didn’t explain why he became the Jang family dog. He only told her enough to devastate her and driver her away. Let me repeat that: he didn’t even tell her the whole truth. His whole “confession” was just another one of his manipulations!

This has nothing to do with making a clean breast of it with Mo Hyun, and everything to do with the revenge plot. Pil Joo isn’t a martyr. He’s a monster.

Immediately after the confession, where is he? Planning his take over of Cheong A. He doesn’t even take a breath to recover. He immediately asks Yong Goo to go over the final leg of the plan with him:

After intentionally breaking Mo Hyun’s spirit and wrecking his supposed “friend’s” sham marriage of his own design, Pil Joo is right back on his slash and burn war path toward the utter destruction of Cheong A. We may want to attribute all these suppressed emotions and noble feelings to Pil Joo to try to mollify his guilt in some way. His mysterious friend/helper Yong Goo sure seems to want to. But you know what kind of person consistently suppresses their better feelings in the name of goal oriented, ends-justify-the-means pragmatism?

A cold blooded, sociopath. Which is what Pil Joo is.

By contrast, where do we find Boo after he threatens to kill the mother of his child in the name of his goals? Sobbing like a child in his car:

Where is he after his wife’s very understandable mental breakdown upon find out that the last five years of her life have been one long series of lies and manipulations orchestrated by and large by the man she loves? Watching over her as she sleeps.

Of the two of them, Boo is the one most visibly shaken and horrified by his actions. And it’s honestly a wonder that Boo isn’t more messed up than he is, morally speaking. Considering that he’s been physically and emotionally abused by his terrifying mother and manipulative friend for the past 20 years.

Oh yeah, remember how Pil Joo frequently uses violence with him when Boo doesn’t do what he’s supposed to do?

Boo still has a soul and is capable of feeling things like remorse and betrayal. Like the desire to protect his son.

While I feel terrible for Mo Hyun, because her life has been utterly and undeservedly wrecked by these people, I think she’s capable of recovery. After all, she already suspected what kind of people lived a Mooshimwon. She has had multiple indications of what kind of situation she is willingly placing herself in. Boo is coping with the shock that everything he believed about his life for almost 20 years is a lie. His sense of identity has been shaken–everything he’s wanted, everything he’s ever attained is part of this lie. He was forced into an arranged marriage that he didn’t even want at the time and now that he truly loves his wife, she’s calling out Pil Joo’s name in her sleep! He just found out that his only friend has never been sincere with him. Rather, he approached him maliciously with the intention of ruining his family and taking his place. Not only that, he’s found out that he’s not even the biological son of the father that he idolizes. Pil Joo is the true heir, here to take everything away he’s ever taught Boo to want.

Anybody would crack up in these circumstances. And he can’t even talk to anyone about it. He can’t tell his mother or confide in wife or the person who was supposed to be his best friend. He ends up going to his unacknowledged father (I think he knows, or at least strongly suspects who Driver Oh is) to vent some of his grief.

He talks about the truth of Pil Joo’s deception being enough to kill Mal Ran if she was to ever find out. But I think the same scene can be taken a different way. He doesn’t want his mom to find out the truth, because he doesn’t want her to feel the way he feels right now. Like he might die from it. Because Boo really loved Pil Joo, damn it! If we can say nothing else about Boo Cheon, we have to at least give him that.

Even if they intend to make Boo the antagonist from this point until the end of the drama, I just can’t bring myself to hate him. He’s too pitiful. Sure, he’s weak and selfish and entitled. But he is what he was conditioned to be from a very young age. His mother has treated him like an incompetent disappointment and Pil Joo has turned him into a puppet. If things had played out different, who knows where he would be right now? If not for Pil Joo’s interference, who knows what kind of person he could have become?

One big thing that the shooting range scene demonstrates (besides the fact that Boo has officially been driven around the bend) is that when he isn’t comparing himself to or being hopelessly dependent on Pil Joo, he can actually perform very well.

As much as I despise his cousin, I think Yeo Cheon was right about something:

Anyway…that’s why I can’t help but root for and feel sorry for Boo. I hope that he’s not past the point of no return. And I’m still waiting for Pil Joo to recognize the fact that a) Boo is a victim of this corrupt family as much as he is himself and b) he doesn’t have the right to manipulate and destroy other people’s lives like some kind of vengeful god. Even when the deserve it.

If it’s not evident from what I’ve written above: I really, really like this show. It’s mad entertaining, and the character arcs are as complex as they are tragic. I am still hoping for Pil Joo’s redemption, I think the man is utterly fascinating. I don’t see this train wreck having a happy ending. But I’m still waiting for Pil Joo and Boo to actually have it out about Pil Joo’s lies before someone gets shot or stabbed. I want to believe, even at this point, that Pil Joo really did come to care for Boo. Even if he started out hating him, I can’t believe all he feels for Boo is hate, anymore than I believe he really put a stop to his feelings for Mo Hyun. Forgiveness might not be possible at this point, but at the very least I’m hoping for closure. A lot can happen in 6 hours, so lets keep our fingers crossed.

Anyway, those are my TL;DR feelings about Money Flower. Raw and  unabridged. Thanks for your patience while I worked on your ask, and thanks for sticking with me if you read this far. Goodnight, my lovely followers. You’re all so beautiful.

Jona