#AFTER 2 LONG YEARS SINCE THE LAST CHAPTER I FINALLY FUCKING WROTE THE FINALE

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human

[Cyberpunk! America x reader] 20

Wordcount: 12, 428 Rating: R18+ for adult themes, violence, and gore Synopsis: ??? Content warning: Major character death(s). Heavy sexual references. Content may be disturbing for some readers. Proceed with caution.

20 - finale

“Considering we’re all about to bite the dust, you guys fixed this ship up pretty good,” Allen remarked, walking into the control room with a more relaxed composure than he should’ve had. 

In just a few hours, this thing would be taking everyone to their final resting place. As bleak as that sounded, it couldn’t be far from the truth, so he smoked himself up for the occasion. 

“You don’t have to remind me,” Arthur mused, brushing past him. While he made his way to the other side of the room, he got a whiff of the nicotine that was wafting off him, but he couldn’t be bothered by the smell. He had something else to be bothered by, like his boyfriend’s dismissive attitude to the undismissable — that he was about to be thrown into the lion’s den. 

He got to their side, and they were currently working on one of the dashboards on the bridge, configuring the system. There, he made one final attempt to talk himself out of the action. 

“Can’t I just stay here and wait for you?” He leaned down, expression tense.

“And let you out of our sight? No way.” Zao shot him down without so little as a single glance, which was ironic considering what he just said.

“Look, I’m not a cyberpunk like you lot. I can’t fight, I can’t netrun, I’ll just slow you all down,” Arthur was exasperated, but he kept his voice down lest he be overheard by his apprentice. Knowing them, the last thing they needed was more panic added into the mix. “How would it make any sense to bring me along?”

“It makes perfect sense,” The other replied cutely, albeit while lifting a stern gaze to him. “You stay with us so nothing happens to you without us being there. Would you rather be by yourself when you get fucked or get fucked along with the rest of us?”

“Fine,” Arthur relented, hopping off the bridge to leave. “But if I die, I’ll kill you.”

“You’re not gonna die,” Zao sighed, spinning to him on his chair to watch him as he walked away. Then, he whispered this next part under his breath. “Like I’d ever let that happen.”

“Oh, and Allen?” The blonde stopped in his tracks, turning to the man.

“Yes, boss.” The other replied, not taking his eyes off a dashboard he was stuck marveling at. He’d always been a grease monkey, but that was only for cars. Spacecrafts, on the other hand, were way beyond his depth. For all he knew, he’d be entering the realm of science fiction with how complicated things got.

“When we get back, I’ll get you started on some of the basics,” Arthur smiled cooly, already knowing the reaction he’d get from his apprentice. It’d been a while since they sat down together and tinkered around in the garage, but if this wild goose chase panned out the way they wanted, this didn’t have to be the sensitive subject anymore. They could go back to their old lives.

“Oh, for real?” Allen shot up with an excited grin. “Hell yeah!”

Cyberpunk isn’t about saving the world.

It’s about saving yourself.

That was something Alfred always failed to understand. 

That this world was beyond the idea of a prophesied hero, beyond saving because it was just too far gone. Night City was bigger than him and everyone in it, even those who claimed to own it. Stay here long enough and it would all but swallow you whole. The dark future had no place for something like hope, and yet, he was obsessed with making out on an impossible dream. 

But as flawed and unattainable it was, it was still a beautiful fantasy. 

He made a last minute decision to unbuckle his seatbelt, pulling himself to his feet so he could walk out of the control room and into the hall. With the imminent launch of the ship, where he was headed was probably the last place he should be. The observatory, but he wanted to get a look while he could. Space, the apparent equivalent to skiing in this day and age.

And now that he could finally see it, he could only wish it was under different circumstances. 

Because somewhere out there in another universe, he didn’t have to be a hardened soldier, rising to meet the occasion. But this was probably the fate he had always been destined for.   

“I take it this is your first time too,” He began with his back turned to you, having sensed your presence ever since you trailed behind him. He was standing by a large spherical window, and there, he stared out into his friend’s private runway. It wasn’t much of a sight, but it wasn’t what he came for yet. “Space. We’re actually going to Space, (F/N). Isn’t that just amazing?”

“Yeah,” You smiled a little, though you couldn’t find yourself as enthusiastic as him. 

“And I used to be such a nut about it. There was just so much we didn’t know, but that was what made it so cool,” Alfred grinned at you, his eyes alight with a childlike wonder. You’ve never seen him so excited, and to think it could come from something as simple as just reminiscing the past, it had you wondering what kind of person he would’ve been if he was still back there. 

An explorer, an astronaut, or a pioneer. 

“How big it was, how small and insignificant we are compared to the universe.”

Back then, not everything had been done, so people still would’ve had the chance to keep trying new things. He would’ve had that chance to keep trying new things. After all, everyone was so curious back then, doing anything and everything in their power to just understand the world a little better. To make sense of the vast unknown that had somehow breathed life into this planet. 

No discovery was ever too small, because that one step still would’ve been a giant leap for humanity. That was the value and excitement of science, so where did it go now? 

“But it’s just so normal now. Everything has been reduced to our scale and nothing feels out of reach anymore,” The light in his eyes faded, and he lowered his head. “We’ve lost our humility.”

All of those thoughts ran through your mind while you listened to him speak, and seeing the face he made was that final swing to your resolve, shattering any and all previous reservations you’ve ever had of him. He wasn’t hot-tempered, sensitive, or selfish. Maybe a little, but he wasn’t as arrogant or conceited as you used to think. What made him the way he was the opposite of all those things, and with that newfound clarity, you came to realize what you came here to do. 

“Alfred,” You let out, wrapping yourself around his arm. Then, you pressed your forehead to it, screwing your eyes shut. “I’m not mad at you anymore, and I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Really?” He softened his gaze over you. 

“There’s a certain way the world works, or should work, so you’re right to be angry,” You admitted, peering up at him. “This is the truth of what you are, and I think it’s beautiful.”

“Space?” 

“No, your humility.”

He lifted his head and made a face of understanding as if to go, oh, right. But it quickly changed to a tender smile. “Even though I can be an arrogant prick sometimes?”

“Yes,” You smiled back. “Especially when you’re an arrogant prick sometimes.”

The two of you shared a soft laugh, after which, he turned back to the window again. 

Beautiful, you said. 

“You know, I think I might be the worst thing to ever happen to you,” Alfred murmured, his tone and expression unreadable as he stared out onto the runway. Be that as it may, you could still sense the shame behind his thoughtful composure. He meant it with every fiber of his being, and you would’ve refuted it with every fiber of yours if it weren’t for him turning back to you again. 

Then, with the most sincere gaze burning into you, he said this.

“But you are the best thing to ever happen to me.”

To say you were taken aback would’ve been an understatement. But was he really going to do this now? You felt like you were going to cry, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop it, let alone to tear yourself from him. The timing couldn’t be worse, and judging from how he looked at you, so unwaveringly passionate, he was about to tell you everything he’d ever wanted to. 

“I was just surviving this whole time, but you made me want to live again,” He continued, his eyes wide with love. “I wanna do right by you. I wanna keep learning and growing.” 

The first tears finally came, but all you could do was stare at him in an awe-induced silence. 

“And I know I used to make a big deal about mortality, but I think that’s what actually makes you a human being,” He smiled like he just discovered the secrets of the universe, his ocean eyes twinkling with the stars that would very soon grace the skies. “Not death, but wanting to live.”

The life that pulsed through him was transcendent, overpowering even this moment before death. This was the effect you had on him, a force of nature that made him stronger than oblivion. 

“You idiot.” You wiped your tears with the back of your hand. But they just kept coming, for you were that deeply moved by the profound beauty of his words. To hear how highly he thought of you, then how much you’d changed him, and in turn, how much he changed you, everything overwhelmed you until your face contorted and you practically plowed into his arms to hug him. “Don’t give yourself so much credit. We all know what was the worst thing to happen to me.”

“Oh, yeah?” He hummed, hugging you back. He was already so happy to hear that, breathing you in to ride off that high. Because from the sound of it, you already forgave him.

But you weren’t stopping until you turned his world upside down. 

“You might think you took everything from me, but that’s not true at all,” You squeezed him even tighter. Then, you spoke the words he never thought he’d hear. “You saved me.” 

“What?” His face fell a touch, not believing his ears.

“Allen too.” 

He couldn’t understand it one bit, but you would make him. 

“Ever since he joined the syndicate, what happened to him was going to happen eventually. Nothing in my life would’ve changed, and I would’ve kept being the person my father wanted me to be. But because you’re such an arrogant prick, and because you’re so stubborn--”

His eyes went as wide as he could get them, unsure of whether to feel insulted or praised.

“--you showed us the truth, and now, we’re freed by it. We don’t have to live that way anymore.”

Alfred saved you from your fate, even if it was the life you used to have. He showed you the world and set you free with the truth. He opened your eyes and led you into the light. 

For that, he saved you in every way a person could be saved. 

Kidnapping you was just an incredibly long-winded rescue mission. 

He never once saw it this way, nor himself this way, and to hear you say it, well, you were right about everything. But he couldn’t take it for granted. It would’ve taken so much for you to understand those things. To understand him. To forgive him. And yet, you were so damn good at all of those impossible things, the only real conclusion he could take away from it all was this. 

“Is that your way of saying you love me?” Alfred smiled warmly, getting your lips to tremble into a frown. “Because back in my day, we just kept it short and said the three words.” 

“Stop joking around and just say it then.” You let out, but by then, it was too late. 

The ship launched, drowning out his voice with the engine blast. 

“I love you.”

You never ended up hearing him say it, but you could read his lips. And it was enough to evoke a visceral reaction from you, getting your heart to ache with so much emotion, you could barely handle it. You’d known this for so long, and yet, it affected you so much, you were thrown into the past. And in there, all the memories you ever had of him played like a record.

You’re so hypnotizing Could you be the devil, could you be an angel

You saw him for the first time, and he was a living, breathing weapon. 

As he stood across you in the kitchen of your home, you took him in for everything that he was. Little did you know, he was about to steal you away like a thief in the night.

Your body, mind, and soul, it would all be his. 

Your touch magnetizing Feels like I am floating, leave my body glowing

You laid with him in a no-tell motel, letting him trace his fingers over your skin. He told you about his past, how he was from a world different to yours. And he was an enigma. 

Alfred was a product of your time, but where he truly belonged no longer existed.

They say be afraid You’re not like the others, futuristic lover

He was an old soul, trapped in a body of the future. A killing machine. And because of it, he was feared by everyone he knew. Captured by those who should’ve worshipped him.  

Different DNA, they don’t understand you

But they were wrong about everything. 

You’re from a whole other world A different dimension

He was the vengeance of those before him, an unsung hero who would bring back some sense into an insensitive world. He would touch everyone he ever met, changing them with the truth.

And he would start with you.

You open my eyes And I’m ready to go, lead me into the light

The force threw you both against the wall, but Alfred cushioned you moments before impact. Wrapping his strong arms around you, he held you tight as the ship was sent hurtling into space. 

Kiss me, k-k-kiss me Infect me with your love, and fill me with your poison

Then, he kissed you. 

Take me, t-t-take me Wanna be your victim, ready for abduction

He kissed and kissed you until it was enough to suffice the words he couldn’t hear. 

Boy, you’re an alien, your touch so foreign It’s supernatural, extraterrestrial

That you loved him, and would love him until the end of time. 

This is transcendental On another level Boy, you’re my lucky star

The two of you were never meant to cross paths, having come from two entirely different worlds. 

But now that it happened, there were no two truer equals than you and him. The past and future, male and female, flesh and metal, all of it converged into one singular point like the beginning of the universe and time itself. Alfred held your hand as he looked out the window. He’d finally reached space, what once was a forgotten dream now realized right before his very eyes.

Earth was below him as a glowing blue planet. He could see all the oceans, continents, and the clouds, then the endless sea of stars that existed outside of his comprehension. 

From this distance, the world was as beautiful as he remembered. 

Wanna walk on your wavelength And be there when you vibrate For you I’d risk it all

The front gate of your father’s ship slid open.

Thump-thump

And nothing would’ve prepared you all for the horror that was waiting behind. 

Thump-thump

Dozens of clones, all spitting-images of Alfred, leapt on the unsuspecting group. Their eyes were wide, blank, and crazed, with not a thought behind them but orders to cut down anyone on the other side. When that registered in all of your brains, first, the very idea of it, and second, the actual reality of it, your faces warped in terror in what felt like slow-motion. 

This was the madness your father had brought upon you all. 

Or was it his fault alone?

The room lit up in crazed gunfire. Allen blasted at the clones, firing uncontrollably at them with his eyes and mouth wide open. The fear that struck him was like lightning, coursing through him as so overwhelming it was as if the world had begun to end. He could hardly breathe, let alone think. All he knew was to shoot non-stop, because the second he stopped, he would be killed. 

The same could be said for everyone else, now fuelled by nothing but the drive to survive. 

Your katana never stopped moving as you fought off the horde, so frightened that you couldn’t even scream. You’d descended into such a state that fight or flight converged into one — you wanted to run, but the only way of getting out of here alive was through it. So you kept slashing and slashing, hoping there would somehow be an end to the neverending nightmare before you.

Meanwhile, Arthur was backed to a wall, frozen still as Zao defended him with everything he had. He swung at a clone, knocking the dagger out of their hands before stabbing them with it.

But Alfred? 

He gritted his teeth as he whipped out his mantis blades, letting them unfold like a giant switch knife before he ripped and tore through his clones like a demon. He decapitated them, disemboweled them, completely and utterly destroying them until they were nothing but an explosive mess of blood, flesh, and bone.

He was finally confronting the true nature of your father’s madness, meaning he could finally end it once and for all. But perhaps he shouldn’t have spoken so soon. 

When the last clone fell to your katana, something came from the inside of the ship.

A white mist, which blew past all of you like a gust. 

“Wha—?” Alfred could barely finish his word when it poured into his face. That was when he knew, and in a last ditch attempt to save his friends, he turned to them to yell this out. It was the last thing he could’ve expected, leaving him horribly unprepared for what was unfolding. “—it’s an agent!”

“Oh, come on. That’s just cheating!” Allen roared, terrified out of his mind. He staggered back a few steps, but that couldn’t stop the landslide of gas that came rolling into his face. 

The way it moved was like an avalanche, engulfing the group until everyone was shrouded in it. 

“Whatever you do, don’t breathe it in!” Alfred shouted.

“Easy for you to say!” Allen spat, covering the lower half of his face with his forearm. But even that wasn’t enough to stop the substance from getting into his airway. Whatever it was, it was working fast, draining his consciousness by the second. He could feel himself slipping away, and in those last moments, he saw Arthur drop onto his knees next to him. He hardly had the energy to call out to him, let alone the energy to reach out to you before you fell to the ground. He watched you with his teeth clenched as he fought with every fiber of his being to stay awake. 

“(F/N)…!” Allen hissed. “… Shit…”

“Hey, keep it together! Don’t you dare pass out on me!” Alfred roared, running to the sound of his voice. By that point, the mist had thickened so much, it was impossible to see through. He used his scanner to detect your thermal signatures, but he found nothing. It was just him in the room, and yet, he kept moving like it wasn’t true, refusing to believe that his friends were just plucked off right before his very eyes. Only that was exactly what just happened. 

Once he got to where he last saw Allen, he was gone.

Alfred was overcome with shock as he stumbled back a few steps. 

But that wasn’t all. The mist was starting to dissipate, and once it cleared, everyone was gone. And like everyone else in his shoes, this one thought hit him. Did he just send all his friends to their deaths? His expression was wrought with horror as that realization began to settle in. Then, he let himself get crushed by a guilt so heavy, he could hardly stand. Lowering himself onto his knees, he dug his hands through his hair as his mouth hung open in fright. But that was when he saw someone lying on the ground in the corner of his eye. His clone. Calfred. He turned his head to them, and it just so happened to be the only person he couldn’t give a damn about. Yet, here he was. 

Still here with his sorry ass. 

His head returned to its neutral position. Then, he mustered the darkest glare he could. There was no denying it now. This was all a deliberate ploy to get under his skin, perfectly designed to the last detail. 

It sounded like him. 

“You sick bastard.” He snarled. It maddened him with rage to think the old man was this close, having taken all his friends right under his nose. So he got up on one knee and whipped out his mantis blades on one arm, roaring this at the top of his lungs. “Come out here and fight me!”

|

When Allen came to, he was lying on his side on a tatami floor. 

The lighting was dim, a sensual mix of purple and pink hues. He sat up, and that was when he realized he was stripped down to his tank top. His bomber jacket and even his pants were gone. But he didn’t have a chance to make a fuss as he was hit with a searing headache. He pressed the ball of his hand to his forehead and winced through his teeth. What the actual hell was going on? 

There was gas, and now, he was in an entirely different room. 

The room in question was lavishly furnished with traditional paper lanterns, a wooden vanity, and even red paper umbrellas, opened and lying on their side to display their intricate patterns. There was even a crimson futon against the wall, and on each side was a shoji screen for privacy. If he didn’t know any better, this would’ve been a private room in the red light district. 

Why he was put here was beyond him, a place meant for pleasure. 

But it would all become painfully clear when he saw who he was with. 

Standing over him was the most alluring woman he’d ever seen. She was dressed in an elaborate red kimono, and her silky black hair was put up like a geisha, but with more gold ornaments than he could count. She was an oiran, a high-ranking courtesan from the Edo period. But her beauty didn’t come from the clothes she wore, nor the fine makeup that graced her cherubic features. 

Upon closer look at her face, it was yours. |

Zao opened his eyes, but he wasn’t lying on the floor. Instead, he was upright and tied to a chair. He struggled for a bit, pulling at the metal constraints around his wrists.

But even that couldn’t hold his attention for long. 

In front of him were a bunch of security screens, each filming a room that one of his friends was in. He turned to them, and he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Alfred just threw Calfred over his shoulder before charging into the ship. Allen was in a room with a woman that looked terrifyingly like you. Meanwhile, the real you was still unconscious on the floor of a child’s room. But Arthur? He was roaming the halls by himself, searching for all of you because he was defenseless on his own. Zao grimaced darkly, but it was hardly out of mirth. 

He knew what kind of man your father was, but this was a whole new level of insanity. He wasn’t going to do any of the dirty work himself. 

He would let all of you do that to yourselves. 

Your greatest demons, now his greatest weapons. 

And here he was, forced to watch as all of his friends were plucked off, one by one. He’d always been an observer, someone who had the bigger picture and worked tirelessly in the background. This was a testament to that, only this time, he had both arms tied behind his back, powerless to stop what was unfolding before his very eyes. But even as this dawned on him, only one thought raced through his mind — the regret of everything he’d ever done, reduced to this one moment.

He should’ve left Arthur behind.

|

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” Alfred gave his clone a brief side-eye before tossing him a gun. 

It landed in the man’s lap, much to his annoyance — could he be any more an asshole? He lifted his hardened gaze up to his companion, who was already facing away from him. 

“Now make yourself useful.”

“Why did I have to end up with you?” Calfred picked it up before pulling himself up to his feet. 

“Yeah, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either,” He broke into a brisk jog in the hall, making his footsteps as faint as possible. Hollow, metallic thunks sounded against the floor as they moved together in stealth, sticking to the walls wherever possible. That was when they came to an intersection, so he hid behind the corner. “You think everybody else got to pick?”

“Whatever,” The other hid behind him. “Where is everybody anyway?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Alfred whispered in a foreboding tone, keeping his eyes narrowed on the two clones that stood at the end of the hall. It was the first time that they ran into some company, and he was right to anticipate the worst. More copies of himself. But even if there were a hundred, thousand, or a million of them, he would kill them all until he was the only one left standing. “I’ll take the one on the left, you take the one on the right. On three.”

Calfred raised his gun, only for him to lower it with a push. “No guns. Too much noise.”

“Didn’t you just--”

“--three.” He sped off, derailing that train of thought. 

They ran into the light in perfect synchronization, moving side by side like a reflection of one another. Now that they were exposed, they were plunged into a zone, a deep state of focus like predators in chase of their prey with the aim to kill as fast as they could. And they couldn’t stop now that the timer started. 

Alfred came up to his clone from behind and twisted its head in one swift movement, killing it instantly. Calfred slit his clone across the throat, getting blood to spray profusely from its neck. They both fell to the ground, but the duo had already moved on by the time a thump was heard, running off together, one after the other. 

They cut their way through the ship, exterminating all life like angels of death. So many heads rolled and so many guts were spilled that by the end of it, the duo were covered in blood. Their faces were drenched in it so that when they opened their eyes in a cold glare, the electric blue in them would contrast beautifully against the red. But it was just another marker that distinguished them from their enemies. Hell, they even could’ve been unstoppable as allies in another life. 

Two trained killers who worked in perfect unison. 

But this was no time to get sentimental. 

They eventually found themselves at another closed gate, which Alfred took his time to crack into. And what waited behind was a surprise they’ve seen well and truly before. Because once it slid open, they came face to face with an entire room of clones. Dozens and dozens of them.

“Oh, fuck.” They let out simultaneously.

So much for making too much noise.

|

So this was what it came to, the master plan that was meant to put him in his grave. Maybe this could’ve worked in the past, but he was no fool. Not anymore. While these thoughts ran through his head, Allen got up without a word. The look behind his eyes turned dark and incoherent, but what he was about to do was exactly those things. Vile and utterly incomprehensible. 

He pulled his gun and trained it on your face. 

Nobody should ever be forced into a situation where they had to kill a loved one in cold blood, but here he was, about to blow your brains out. He gritted his teeth as he let out a shaky breath, feeling a gradual tremble build up in his hand that held the gun. He was really about to shoot you, wasn’t he? Only he wasn’t, so why was he even stuck thinking about it? 

You weren’t real, just a tool to get under his skin and ultimately kill him. 

So why didn’t he just pull the trigger?

“Just do it,” He strained through his teeth, feeling his heart start racing in his chest. His hand was full-on shaking by then, but he was on the verge of going through with it. “Just fucking do it.”

|

When you finally awakened, you were on the floor of your childhood bedroom. You rose to your feet to take it all in, and your face contorted when it dawned on you. This was where you grew up. An exact replica of it. The bed, the furniture, the framed pictures that decorated the shelves, even the smell of it was exactly the same. It was an other-worldly experience that awakened some of the deepest memories within you, even the ones you thought you’d forgotten. 

Your father reading stories to you, chasing your butt-naked self around the place with a towel, then picking you up in his strong arms. The way he bellowed out his laughter, but never being scared by the sound of it. That was your father, the person you once knew. Strong, noble, and just. Where did he go now? Tears streamed down your face as your heart grew heavy with loss. 

It was the sadness of a child who lost a parent, for whoever stood in their place was a stranger. 

Or was this the person he’d always been? 

So cruel that he would use your own innocence against you, turning your purest memories into a weapon? This was the last straw you didn’t know you even had, because even after everything he’d done, you were still shedding tears for him. Your forgiveness seemed to know no bounds, but so did his wickedness. But you were drawing the line now. He was nothing but a scourge on this planet, corrupting all good until there was nothing left except pain and suffering. 

You rose from the ground and unsheathed your katana. 

No child should ever have to resort to killing a parent, but he left you no choice. 

“Have you finally made up your mind?” Your father began as you stepped into the light. 

And to think he’d been here the whole time, waiting for you to meet him exactly where he stood.

Just what was he planning?

“I’ve made up my mind long before coming here,” You lowered your head.

“Then why the tears, my child?” He questioned. 

“I’m allowed to grieve the loss of a father,” You answered with your eyes closed, refusing to look at him as you said it. 

“So you do care for me, after all,” He was visibly affected by what you told him, an astonishing feat for someone like him. However, you were probably the only thing in the world he could ever feel love for, so it was all for naught. “This doesn’t have to end the way you think it does. Just admit the truth that is your family, and I will stop everything. All of this, if you will just say it.”

“I lost my father ages ago,” You refused. “You’re a demon.”

“If I’m a demon, what does that make you?” He responded calmly.

“I’m not you. I can live my own life and make it my own,” You shot back.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Your father denied, much to your anger and disbelief. He’d always been a firm believer in tradition, in filial piety, but his entitlement over you knew no bounds. Little did you know, he meant it in the plainest and most literal way, which was far worse than anything you could’ve imagined. “Have you ever wondered why you’ve never had a mother?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” You frowned, though he was right to question you on that. You’ve never had a mother growing up, and you always wondered why. 

“You’re not really my daughter, you see. You weren’t born from two parents,” He explained. At first, you didn’t know what to make of that fact. How you were a miracle child, born from a single parent. Now that you thought about it, it wasn’t unheard of, so you couldn’t be surprised. But if that were the case, what did he mean when he said you weren’t really his daughter? 

“And?” You narrowed your eyes. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“You misunderstand, (F/N). Every strand of DNA in your body is identical to mine, except for the chromosomes that determine your sex,” He continued, and that was when it slowly dawned on you. If what he was saying was true, that could only mean one thing. And yet, you couldn’t bear to accept the truth even as he laid it out before you. “You are a female clone of me.”

You were identical to him, down to the last strand of flesh that wrapped around your bones. You couldn’t even have the least of your own body to differentiate yourself from him, and that in itself was so depraved, so invasive, you could barely keep yourself standing.

“You’re lying,” You bit back a cry. “You’re lying. That’s not true!”

“But it is,” He glowered, and with the most bone-chilling voice, he said, “You are me.”

Meanwhile, Allen kept the barrel of his gun pointed at your face. He was paralyzed, where the only movement lay in the shaking of his hand. His eyes were a powerful weapon of deceit, and the longer he stayed in this tense stalemate, the more it chipped away at his will. That was when you smiled at him, and it basically destroyed him. His mind began to unravel, his stomach began to churn, and his mouth fell agape in an expression of so much agony, it looked like he was in pain. 

His body was refusing to listen to him because all it knew was that he was about to kill you. 

And to fight that part of himself, he ended up screaming as loud as he could to drown it out. 

Tears ran down your face as you glared at your father with all the fear and loathing in the world. He’d cursed you with life, something utterly unthinkable and unachievable until he came along. It was the same thing he did to Alfred, but that was when you realized two things could be true at once. Alfred flashed in your mind, and so did Allen. And oh, how they smiled, talked, laughed. They made the world something you could understand, and for that, the memory of them alone was enough to give you back your strength with frightening clarity. You loved them in a way that he could never love anything, and that fact alone set you miles apart.

Allen eventually pulled the trigger, sending off a bang.

“I am nothing like you!” You roared, lunging forward with a manic ferocity in your movements.

“And yet,” Something sinister glinted in his eyes as you both met in a fearsome clash. A sharp clang was heard as he pulled out his katana at the last second, stopping you from cutting through him. That left the edges of your blades scraping together as you two pitted your raw strength against each other, and there, you were locked in a foreboding stare-down. “Here we are.”

You broke out of the hold by hitting his katana away. 

Then, you came at him with a series of hard strikes and swings.

“Can’t you see?” He caught every single one, your blades clashing in a fierce battle of steel. 

His eyes widened with a burning certainty as he witnessed you in your prime. You fought like a demon, the very thing you accused him of being. You attacked him with so much speed and strength, even he struggled to keep up with you. “All your relentlessness, ferocity, and power—”

You were so caught up in the fight, you didn’t realize that your gi had slipped off, revealing what hid beneath. A yakuza dragon tattoo on your back that spread from your hips all the way to your neck. It was done with the finest sportsmanship, only to be given to the highest-ranking members of the syndicate. But even that didn’t mean it could be taken so freely. It was the one and only honor your father had rightfully bestowed upon you, and it had no importance until now. 

Alfred wasn’t his foil, nor his truest match. 

You were. 

And the harder you fought, the more his truth unraveled. This was everything he ever wanted, the unfolding of a self-fulfilling prophecy that was what you were destined to be.

“—all of it is because you are me.”

Allen laid your clone to rest on the bed, throwing a blanket over the body to cover it. 

He did it all with a pained frown, knowing he’d carry this action with him for the rest of his life. For even though this had been a mere shadow of you, he now knew what it was like to kill you, and how much it took for him to kill you. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to go through, but he did now. He turned around to leave, desperate to leave this behind him once and for all.

But he only made a few steps before he stopped. 

Then, his face contorted with a sob, and he wiped the tears that came. This was so fucked up, he could hardly bring himself to carry on. But he forced himself to keep pushing. 

The real you was still out there, and that was enough to keep him going. Little did he know, you were losing grip of yourself at that very moment, reaching a height of bloodlust that would make you no different to your greatest enemy. For as cruel as they’d been, nothing could change the fact that you were about to kill your own kin. And it was an act that had a weight on its own. 

With a loud, reverberating clang, you hit the katana out of your father’s hands. 

Would Allen be able to save you from your fate, even when it was reaching a point that was practically unsalvageable? The sharp edge of your sword was against his neck, and with one, quick, slice, you could end it all. But by doing so, you would also become the one thing he wanted to make of you. A manifestation of all his power and darkness.

“Kill me and the beast will take a new head.” Your father spoke lowly. “Yours.”

It didn’t seem possible at first. After all, how could he save you when he couldn’t even save his own? Allen kept jogging through the labyrinth of halls, chest tight and his breath shaking as he moved. You had to be out here somewhere. All his friends were. And if he was quick about it, he could save all of you. That was when he came to an intersection, spotting a body slumped against the wall. Short, choppy blonde hair, cargo pants, and the tacky shirt he borrowed from Zao? 

It was Arthur, no doubt. 

Only his neck was slashed, covering his torso with—Allen turned around upon seeing it.

But he never walked away. He just stood there, deathly still. Then, his heart began to pound, and harder than it ever did that day. This couldn’t be real. After everything that happened, he refused to believe that this would be the result. This couldn’t be real. His eyes slowly widened as he summoned the courage to look again, hoping that what he saw wasn’t true.

Yet, when he glanced over his shoulder, he was still sitting there, very much dead. 

When it finally hit him, he dropped to his knees and vomited on the ground. His eyes went straight to the back of his head as he puked the hardest in his life. And he didn’t stop until everything in his stomach was emptied. After everything that had happened, this was what it took to finally drive the nail in. He’d finally reached the threshold of his sanity and just broke. 

Everything he ever did was for nothing. 

All those years he spent grovelling was wasted for no reason.

Because in the end, after everything that Arthur did for him, he couldn’t even do the least of saving his life. He joined the syndicate to protect him, and he failed. He failed! When that dawned on him, a wide grimace broke out across his face, only to quickly tremble away. 

His face contorted as he began to cry. 

He couldn’t do anything right. This was the only thing that mattered, and yet, he still fucked it up beyond compare. So he kept crying with his forehead to the ground, sobbing wretchedly before him, apologizing again and again even when he couldn’t be heard. The light had long gone from Arthur’s eyes, so he’d never get to see the last gesture of gratitude his student paid for him. 

And they would be indebted to him forever.

“So what will it be?”

Allen got up after a while. He didn’t know how long it took for him to get to this point, to have the strength to stand on his feet, but he was here now. And he was plunged into a state of mind where he was almost manic. So much had been taken from him, he was hell bent on taking things back for a change. He had to make all of this right somehow, even if he’d just lost everything.

With a vacant expression, he picked up Arthur’s body and threw him over his shoulder. 

Then, he paced the halls like a zombie, looking for the man responsible.

His prayers were quickly answered as his clone appeared around the corner, wearing his clothes. And all it took was one glance to know. This was the bastard who killed Arthur. So what did he do? He drew his gun at lightning speed, firing an astonishing seven shots at their chest without blinking. They dropped to the ground after the merciless execution, but he just walked past the corpse without a second thought. He’d only just begun, and he wasn’t about to look back. 

Soon, he came up to the door that he knew for certain would be where it’d all end. 

So he put Arthur down outside, reaching up to his eyes to close them.

Then, he burst through it, guns blazing. 

Allen fired relentlessly at the bastard who took everything from him, screaming as he did, letting out everything he ever kept inside him. He’d joined the syndicate to save a friend, and since he couldn’t even do that, he would make amends by destroying the very essence of the Mizumoto patriarch. So he kept shooting and shooting until he ran out of bullets, bursting so many holes through the son of a bitch until he could read the Sunday newspaper through him.

However, by some miracle, he was still alive by the end of it — even if barely.  

But his vitality was what gave him the chance to do this. 

Your father wheezed out his final breaths in a shocked stupor, so Allen acted as fast as he could. 

He wrapped his hand around yours, lending you his strength, and pushed your katana into him.

By doing this, he would share the burden of your kill, stopping you from becoming everything your father wanted to be. And his past betrayal? It would finally be repaid tenfold in the exact same way that it happened to him. Blood was owed to him, and he finally fucking had it. 

“Die, you motherfucker.” Allen growled, shoving the blade all the way in until it came curving out of his back. And he never let go until he saw the light fade from the old man’s eyes, the one mistake that ended up being his survival. Soon, the kumicho breathed his last breath, and that was when he felt himself breathe for the first time. He was finally free. 

“It’s just you and me now.” Calfred panted as he sat against a wall with Alfred. 

After painting the room red in a mass execution of clones, he was so exhausted, he could barely think. But he was hopeful that this was one step closer to the end – he just never imagined what that would look like because his companion had a completely different idea of it than he did. Because when he pulled himself up to his feet, the sharp edge of a mantis blade was held to his neck. He turned to the person responsible, eyeing him with a growing wariness in his expression. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Alfred replied, expression unreadable as he never retracted the blade from his neck. He even pressed it deeper into his skin, causing a thin red line to form. The stinging pain that erupted was a wake up call that he was dead serious about his intentions, and that was when things really started to kick off — and when his clone really started to panic. 

“You’re crazy,” Calfred spluttered, gripping the edge to push it away from himself. When that wasn’t enough, he brought up his katana and clashed it against his mantis blade in a sharp clang. That only left them in a tense stalemate, blades trembling together as they pitted their raw strength against each other. “You’re really gonna off me after everything that happened?”

Alfred narrowed his eyes, slowly overpowering him and hitting his sword away. 

“What the fuck have I ever done to you?” He jumped back to create some distance, but that was hardly enough to stop the relentless storm that was his so-called original. 

“I think you know,” The man glared. Whipping out his other blade to rear them like a praying mantis, he struck down on him from above. His clone barely caught it, leaving them in another close encounter with nothing but the sparking steel between their faces. “This was how it was always gonna end because there’s no way that the two of us are gonna be walking out of here.”  

“And why is that?” Calfred grimaced, his voice trembling as he spoke. He was just talking out of his ass at this point, but adrenaline was a bitch. “Scared that she’ll pick me over you?” 

“And why the hell would she do that?” Alfred shoved him back again.

“I think you know.” The other breathed weakly, repeating what he just said, word for word. And it pissed him off more than he could stomach. “But I’ll tell you anyway.” 

“Enlighten me then, you arrogant prick.” He snarled.

An alarm blared throughout the ship as all the lights turned red. 

Now that the pilot was dead, everything started shutting down. And it didn’t take long for Allen to realize what was going on — that this whole thing had been a kamikaze mission — but he wasn’t losing anybody else today. So he took your hand and got the hell out of there, running as fast as his legs could carry him to the escape pods. He got this far, he sure as fuck was going to live to tell the tale. And he would do anything to get a taste of the freedom he now had. 

Even if that meant ignoring your pleas to look for Alfred, who for some reason, refused to leave the now sinking ship. The gravity had given out by then, leaving him floating several feet off the ground, but even that couldn’t take his focus off the son of bitch in front of him. And with where the conversation was going, it looked like only one of them would be walking out of here alive. 

“You were created with the sole purpose to take life,” Calfred floated around him, inspecting him  like a specimen. And a specimen he was, a cyborg absent of imperfection. “Not create it.”

“And?” 

“Allen, me—we’re all different to you.” 

Created by man, not woman-born. An antithesis to all living beings and humans. 

“We could do fuck all, but we’re still capable of the most basic thing we were created for,”

For that, he was deprived of their most defining feature. 

“We can reproduce.”

“Shut up.” Alfred glared.

“You know you’re sterile.” Calfred looked directly at him as he said it.

“I said, shut up.” He clenched fists until they trembled, his eyes darkening with the most bitter resentment. The bastard was dangling his deepest insecurity before him as nothing but a talking point, and the worst part was, he was right about everything. The ability to have children, something everyone took for granted yet completely out of reach for him. Because no matter how far he strayed from his roots, he’d want that promise of creation. To make life.

“If she ever wanted kids, you wouldn’t be able to give her any. But I would,” The other merely watched as a single tear rolled down to his chin. “Without me, who’s gonna get her pregnant?”

Just when he thought he’d well and truly lost it, the son of a bitch added one last word.

“Allen?”

You were in the escape pod with Allen by then, and in the heat of the moment, he did something that broke all the rules. He put his mouth on yours, kissing you. He kissed you. His lips pressed against yours in an exchange that was far from innocent, and the crazy part was, you let him. Maybe you were just as mad as he was, but after cheating death, he was plunged into another state of mind where he wasn’t himself. Or was it more like a heightened sense of clarity?

Because if there was one thing he had to do before dying, this was it.

“Allen?”

Alfred’s eyes went wide as his jaw slowly opened, letting the name stir something inside him until he all but lost his mind. The next thing he knew, he’d launched himself at Calfred with a scream and started pounding his face like a maniac. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!” Pushed past the brink of sanity, the only remedy was to punch him again and again until he was barely recognizable. Then, by some miracle, he stopped, and by another, his clone survived the hellish beating, albeit with a loose eyeball out of his socket. 

“If you kill me,” He choked, gripping onto the other’s hand shakily. Blood was splattered all over his face, now heavily disfigured from being brutally smashed in. And his head, limp from brain damage and pain. He couldn’t muster the energy to even look at Alfred, but he scraped together what was left of his waning consciousness to spell out the unshakeable truth. “Your dreams won’t ever see the light of day.”

“Who says you need to be alive for this?” Alfred whipped out his mantis blades, their razor sharp edges gleaming in the starlight. The second Calfred heard their signature sound, he tried inching away from him, whimpering as he did. “If it’s sperm I need, I’ll just cut it out of you.”

|

Alfred never ended up going through with it. 

Because as furious as he’d been, he couldn’t bring himself to be so cruel. He didn’t even think he could kill him. What he could do, however, was choose not to save him. After all, he meant what he’d said when there would only be one of them walking out of here. It wasn’t right for there to be two of the same person, and knowing the kind of man he was, he would be saving himself a lot of grief in the future.

He didn’t like to share, not the life he lived, and definitely not the woman he loved.

So he left him as the ship went down.

And yet, as he walked away, he felt immense guilt for what he was doing. Maybe he was just being selfish. Maybe what he was doing was wrong. Leaving a man to die, and for what? 

But if anybody else were in his position, would they have done any different? If they were given the chance to be free of this dilemma, wouldn’t they have done the same? Alfred told himself these hypotheticals as a way of resolving this inner conflict. But the thing was, nobody would ever be in his position. Not entirely, anyway. And thank God for that. Because if anybody really did choose to do something different, that meant he was just another no good son of a bitch. 

He managed to get into an escape pod, and much to his relief, he could see two of them already on their way to Earth. But he’d be a fool to think none of this came with a price.

|

The end of the day was drawing near with the sunset casting a dark orange haze over Night City. Everyone who showed up that day had gone, leaving only you, Allen, and Alfred to keep Arthur company in his casket before he was finally lowered six feet under. But for some reason, Zao still hadn’t made an appearance. 

“Bastard didn’t even show up to his funeral,” Allen let out, wiping his eyes roughly. 

“Everybody has their own way of grieving, I guess.” Alfred murmured.

“By not showing up to the funeral? Give me a fucking break,” He snapped, taking his leave right then and there. “He’s just being a fucking coward, and I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”

You lingered your tearful gaze on him, watching him get into his car before speeding off in a cloud of smoke. In that moment, you knew you had to do something. Allen was spiraling, and sooner or later, he would fall over the edge. But what could you do when nothing could bring back Arthur? 

He pulled up to Zao’s estate, face warped with hurt as he stopped the engine. When it purred to a stop, he sat with his feelings as they came flooding back. Arthur was gone, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He slammed his hands furiously against the wheel as he wrestled with that reality, so frustrated that he cried all over again. He kept at it for at least five minutes until he calmed down, wiping his angry tears away with his sleeve. 

Then, he got himself together, or at least enough to do what he came here to do — he climbed out of his car looking like shit, and with a picture frame in hand, he stormed up to his friend’s front door. Because as furious as he’d been, he knew the poor bastard was probably taking it worse than him. 

And to his surprise, he actually answered the door. 

“Hey asshole,” Allen began, expression unreadable. “We missed you at the funeral.”

Zao didn’t respond, only gazing down at what he held in his hand.

“You gonna hide in there forever, or what?” He asked, noting his disheveled appearance. His hair was an absolute mess, long, knotted, and clearly hadn’t been washed in days. But that wasn’t what stood out to him most. It was his eyes, which couldn’t even look at him. They said everything they needed to say, so he couldn’t bring himself to keep hounding him anymore. Instead, he just handed him the picture. Arthur’s picture. “If you are, then put this at your shrine at least.”

That, Zao couldn’t refuse, so he took it before shutting the door in his face.

“I need to talk to you,” You told Alfred in the motel room. He was standing by the kitchenette, waiting for his instant noodles to cook. This had been the state of things ever since, spending day after day in a rental limbo. You all survived, but weren’t quite living. Something had to change, but what?

“Yeah, what’s up?” He walked over to you.

“I’m worried about Allen,” You admitted, letting it sit for a while before you said anything else. He seemed to understand, softening his gaze as he waited patiently for you to lay it on him. He’d expected this to come up eventually, and he just hoped that it wouldn’t be forever.  “I think I need to stay with him for a while.”

“Well, are you gonna come back?” He raised his tone.

“Of course,” You frowned, a little devastated that he even asked. “Why wouldn’t I?”

|

“Would it stupid for me to assume you’ll always be here for me like this?” Allen whispered, his eyes half-lidded as if he were deep in thought. After what was perhaps the worst week of his life, you came knocking at his door like a gift from God. And he pulled you in without so much as a word. He was barely keeping his head above water where the one thing that could keep him from drowning was you. But you were here now. It was the middle of the night, and you were on his chest, listening to him breathe as you two laid in bed in what used to be his old room at Arthur’s.

This was everything he could ever want, to have you in his arms.

But would it only be for the moment?

“No,” You whispered back. “I’ll always be here.”

“Even when you’ve got Alfred?” He said it so softly, you almost didn’t catch it.

“You think I’d want to lose you just because I have a boyfriend?” You gripped his tank.

“I don’t know. Doesn’t being in a relationship mean you gotta be more cautious when being alone with strange men?” He asked, the edges of his lips curling up in a smile. But as amusing as it was in the moment, he was really testing you on the true nature of your relationship with him. And he had all the right in the world because he couldn’t afford to live in ambiguity anymore.

Would you stay, or would you go?

“You’re not a strange man,” You murmured.

“I don’t know, I can be a little strange.” He narrowed his eyes into thin slits as he stretched like a cat. Then, he wrapped his strong arms around you to make his point, even breathing you in.

“So long as that strange doesn’t supersede hugging,” You remained comfortable on his chest, not at all phased by his behavior. And that remained true even after what he did — kiss you.

“I can’t kiss you?” He mumbled, almost as if he read your mind.

“Only if it’s not on the lips.” You responded, putting your foot down. 

“I guess I could deal with that.” Allen relented. He couldn’t say he was disappointed when this was how things always used to be, and he couldn’t be entitled to your love if you wouldn’t give it to him. Not that kind of love, anyway. And with how much you already gave him, he’d be a piece of shit to bother you for more. However, it wasn’t your intimacy he was really after.

You were all he had left, and he wouldn’t be able to survive your absence. 

And that reality hit him at full-throttle when you tried to leave in the morning.

He’d been making some banana pancakes in the kitchen, but the second he saw you at the front door, he dropped everything to get to you. His whisk fell onto the counter in a clatter as he ran to you in a flash. It was as if his body acted on reflex, and now that his thoughts caught up with his actions, he crumbled to pieces. 

“Please don’t go,” Allen hugged you from behind, pressing his forehead to the back of your neck as he spoke. “Just stay a few nights with me, please. I’ll be good after that, I promise.”

Alfred may have been waiting for you, but how could you leave him like this? 

The answer had been so clear to you then. You couldn’t.

“I’m thinking about getting an apartment somewhere in North Oak.” Allen mused as he scrolled on his laptop, browsing through some property listings. It had only been a few hours since what went down in the morning, but he managed to cheer himself up pretty quick now that you agreed to stay for the meantime. “Want in?”

“You mean you want me to live with you?” You lifted your gaze to him.

“Haven’t I made that obvious already?” He grinned sheepishly, not that confident you were going to agree. After all, you’ve always been touchy with the whole living situation. With Alfred to consider, you’d be going out on a limb to be with him. But it wouldn’t hurt to try, would it? “So, whaddya say? Me and you in Beaverville with the rest of the corpos?”

Little did he know, you’d moved long past the idea of leaving him alone.

“Sure,” You smiled gently, much to his glee. “But how are you gonna pay for it?”

“You’re gonna help me pay for it, dummy,” Allen grinned toothily. “Right?”

Alfred called you a few days later. 

You haven’t reached out to him for that long, which to him, was the same as eternity. And he was starting to get restless. He stood at the balcony of his motel as he waited anxiously for you to pick up.

“Hey,” You answered, smiling softly.

“Hey, what’s up? I missed you,” He immediately replied, eyes widening at the sound of your voice. “Where have you been?”

“I missed you too,” You uttered, heart heavy as you said it. This exchange may as well be the calm before the storm, as what you were about to tell him was sure to send everything overboard. “Allen just got a new apartment in North Oak. I’m helping him move in.”

“You’re not gonna live with him, are you?” He asked, face falling a touch. But when you didn’t answer immediately, he full-on winced. “Please don’t tell me you’re gonna live with him.”

“I am.” You sighed, closing your eyes.

“Then what about me?” He let out, heart in his throat. “You said you were gonna come back.”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” You apologized, and when he didn’t reply, you sighed. “Alfred.”

“Yeah?” 

“I love you, okay? Don’t ever forget that.”

“Oh, come on, babe. Don’t say things like that,” His voice cracked, feeling himself crumble right then and there. It wasn’t everyday you told him you loved him, and with both your track records, it only ever seemed to happen before everything fell apart. “You’re breaking my heart.”

“I mean it, Al.” You softened your gaze.

“Then show me,” He whispered pleadingly, and the desperation in his voice couldn’t be missed. He needed you, but you weren’t there for him. “Because I can’t feel it.”

You ended up meeting him later that night. And he wasn’t wrong to think you’ve been neglecting him, because seeing him again was like a dream. You caught up with him over some Family Mart favorites, talking and laughing just like old times. He took you through the city in a joyride, street racing with other drivers of Night City before leaving them in the dust.

He even did the stare and drive.

As he accelerated the car, he never took his eyes off you even as he reached a speed that got him close to God. He just kept going while smiling at you, the streets passing by outside in a fast blur. And you smiled back, trusting him with your life. It was the most fun you’ve ever had up until then, which should’ve been concerning when it involved the risk of getting killed.

However, he’d changed you that much, and you missed him even more. This was a side of him you’ve never known too, a carefree, excitable, and happier part of him which you loved. 

All of it was finally over, so he was floating. And with you by his side, he never felt so right. There was nothing that could stop him now, so he wanted to get so high that he would never come back down again. The sky was the limit, and he was slowly getting there.

He just needed you to be on the same page as him. 

The drive back to the motel was silent, but the atmosphere did all the talking. It was dark in the car, leaving you two sitting in a sultry ambience. What he did next only seemed to heighten that. Alfred made it a point to turn the radio off, glancing at you as he did. That left you in nothing but his company, where the only thing you could hear was the sound of him driving. He wanted the only thing you could think about to be him, and it was more sensual than you could’ve imagined. 

But that wasn’t all.

You shared a moment of eye contact with him, and that was when you knew. The way he looked at you was so raw, and with so much emotion that when you looked back at him, it was like staring into his heart. 

He wanted you, and he was going all the way with you tonight. 

If everything he just did wasn’t enough, he made it explicit by revving the engine in a loud vroom, accelerating until he was speeding to get back to the motel. While he raced through the city streets, your heart pounded the whole time. His urgency was on full display, and he did it so shamelessly, it easily made for the most erotic moment of your life. 

And he wouldn’t slow down until he had you. 

One hour later, you were laying with him in bed in the nude. And it was the single-most satisfying experience of his life. He’d seen every part of you, and you’ve seen every part of him. Not only did it feel amazing to make love to you, Alfred felt like you just accepted him in a way he always wanted to be accepted, and it left him in such a state that he was reeling.

“Fuck, that was so good,” He whispered, laying a hand over his eyes. “Why didn’t we do this earlier?”

“Several reasons,” You breathed, cheeks still flushed from all the intimacy as you laid on your side facing him. “The most important one being a lack of privacy.”

“Damn,” He muttered. Now that you mentioned it, you were right as rain. That left him thinking, what could he do to fix that once and for all? With a growing smile, he asked this while stifling a snort. “It wouldn’t be too late to talk you out of living with Allen now, would it?”

You took your pillow from under your head and bashed it on his face. 

“This isn’t the only reason I’d want you to live with me, jeez,” He laughed as he shielded himself from it. Once you stopped to lay back down again, he asked another question that should’ve had you hitting him all over again. “So have you ever done it with him?” 

“Done what?” You frowned. 

“You know,” He murmured sheepishly, almost embarrassed to finish what he started. “Sex.”

“Why would I have sex with Allen?” You let out, doing your damnedest to not imagine the thought. Aside from being in this ever-growing stable relationship with Alfred, it somehow felt sacrilegious to consider. Because as ambiguous as your bond with him was — a friend, a brother, and something more — he was also the only semblance of family you could ever have.

“I don’t know,” He pursed his lips. “You guys seem tight.”

“Not that kind of tight,” You rolled your head to him. “Not while you’re around, anyway.”

“So you’re saying you’d do him if we broke up?” Alfred grumbled.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” You gushed, gathering your composure before adding this on a more serious note. “But if you didn’t exist, or if something happened to you…” 

He fell silent as he listened to you, now realizing what you meant. Your love for him wasn’t fragile, where the only case of anything changing was if he keeled over in a doomsday event. And knowing how close you were to Allen, he was probably the only other guy who stood a chance of being the one. He also happened to be the only guy he trusted with you, so he couldn’t be mad. Not that he was particularly fond of the idea, so he made a note to not do that. Keel over. 

“At least you’re being honest with me.” He sighed, stopping you before you could finish. 

“But what made you ask this in the first place?” 

“I just felt like you were drifting from me, that’s all.” 

“I could never,” You let out, rolling on top of him so you could face him. Now that you were, you could finally see the look behind his eyes. Coy, expectant, and with this is the part where you tell me you love me, written all over it. And you would, just in your own way. Your cheeks flushed a rosy hue as you laid it on him with a tender smile, and you meant every word. “You’ll always be the only man for me.”

“I’m not satisfied with just words, you know?” Alfred whispered, and yet, he couldn’t shake off the electricity you just made him feel. They were the sweet nothings all men longed to hear, but to hear it through your voice, it drove him crazy. Sitting up with you on his lap, he kissed you so hard that he almost forgot the point he was trying to make. But he couldn’t drop the ball now — he came into this with a goal, and he would see it through to the end. So he pulled away to say this. “I need you to make me real promises and follow through with them.”

You ended up settling on staying with him for three days of the week, all while calling him every night. Although it wasn’t as much as you expected, he had a plan of what he’d do with his time. 

So what next?

You and Allen went on living the sheltered life you both deserved, making a home in a charming, upper-class neighborhood full of freshly-mowed lawns, white-picket fences, and cul-de-sacs. 

But Alfred?

He stood outside of his sports car in what used to be Beverly Hills, and at the highest point overlooking the city. There, he rested a blaster on his shoulder as he stared out into the distance. 

“So what now?” He asked, laying next to a doll. It wasn’t his thing to use services like this, but the women here knew exactly what he desired, and right now, it was to figure out where he would go from here on out. He would’ve asked you, but you would’ve just told him to move on and put it all behind him. And something inside him told him he never really could move on. 

“Now? You find out what it is you need to do,” Skye replied in a dreamy whisper. 

Alfred drove through Night City in the heat of the day, windows down as he relished in the dry desert wind that blew into his face. It’d been a while since he went to see his fixer to look for jobs, but he figured it wouldn’t be a bad place to start. He would eventually go on to do all sorts of crazy missions so long as they agreed with him — and brought home the bacon.

You’ve never backed down from anything in your life, even when you maybe should’ve.

He burst into a room, guns blazing as he blasted holes in all the goons scattered around the place. 

You go through Night City knowing a stray bullet could end you while hailing a cab—

He used his strong arms to burst open a shipping crate, revealing the people trapped inside. 

—but that’s never stopped you from taking action.

Alfred jumped down onto a glass roof, crashing through it with next to no grace before landing in a place surrounded by enemies. But he braved his actions fearlessly, whipping out his mantis blades with a grimace that screamed, bring it on. And when that wasn’t enough, he drew his guns to rain hellfire on the sons of bitches until they were all dead on the floor. 

Because even after everything that happened, the restlessness in his soul never went away. So if he couldn’t save the world, he sure as hell would leave a mark on it. He would go on for the rest of his days as a cyberpunk, trailblazing wherever he went, going down as one of Night City’s biggest legends. But for three days out of the week? He was a certified loverboy.

If you gotta kill, kill.

If you gotta burn it all to the ground, then let it burn.

[enriquemzn262]

Talking about anime, time to mention the shows I’m watching this season:

Dandadan

I remember trying the manga when it first came out, dropped it after the second chapter since I fucking hate high school shit, but the anime looked well animated and the intro kicks ass, so I gave it a second chance and hooooly shit, it’s really fucking good! The start is indeed sloppy, but once aliens and spirits make their debut, it’s all uphill from there!

Great animation, characters and fight scenes galore, plus a surprisingly heartfelt and tragic story in the seventh episode, 10/10 so far!

Ranma 1/2

I grew up with the OG series, so it holds a special place in my heart, and man if the remake hasn’t disappointed me in the slightest! Great animation, amazing music, the characters feel even more charming than before, and even Akane got toned down from her bitchy self I still clearly remember from way back when.

Apparently the adaptation is much closet to the manga than the OG series, hence why it has faster pacing and somewhat more mellowed characters, and after reading that that means that piece of shit happosai is no longer becoming a recurring nightmare, I can honestly say I’m even more excited for this one !

Dragon Ball Daima

I’m latino, if I don’t watch this I’ll be banned from ever enjoying arepas again… Naw, I’ve been watching Dragon Ball for basically all my life, so of course I have to watch this one, plus OG DB was always my favorite, and this one truly captures the essence of that story!

Also, since its kid Goku again, his stupidity, which Super turned up to 11 for no good reason, finally makes in-universe sense, so that’s another plus!

TsumaSho

What everyone, myself included, wrote off as yet another ultra degenerate anime, this time about a dead wife reincarnating as a 10-year okd child, turned out to be quite the wholesome, if ultimately tragic (especially after the last episode ) series about a broken family of a dad and an adult daughter slowly recovering from 10 years of grief and darkness after the said death wife AND mother comes back and basically tells them “time to get your shit together you stupid idiots”, which, they do.

The mom character is the best, as while she’s reconnecting with her old family, she has to deal with her new one in the form of a broken divorced mom who keeps unintentionally hurting her, all because her own home life was a living nightmare, while her love life is nothing but betrayals.

It sorta reminds me of the weird telenovelas I used to watch at a friend’s house, but in a good way, don’t let the weird premise drive you off, it is not perverted in the slightest!

And that’s about it! I tried another anime about a slime girl, dropped it one episode in (I didn’t like its humor), then another about a sentient robot arm thing, dropped it after the third episode (mainly because the tone was all over the place), and another about the fan of a magical girl accidentally becoming evil, kinda like THAT degenerate anime from the beginning of the year, only not degenerate, gave it a try because of that, turned out to be the most boring shit I’ve ever watched in a long while.

Honestly, this season has been weak in terms of number of good shows, but man the ones that are actually good are FANTASTIC!

[yams-77]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going! Thank you to @witch-and-her-witcher for the tag!

Blue is for Sarah J Maas fics and Green is for Fourth Wing fics

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

About 250,030. I can't tell for certain about 20k words of TUH and all but about 20k words of ATOFAF were written in 2023.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

1 Multi Chapter Fic 20 One Shots

The Multi Chapter Fic was I Don't Feel Safe with You Anymore based on a prompt assigned to me by @skyfallscotland

It's been five days since the Battle of Basgiath and Xaden still hasn't heard from Sgaeyl. The dragon left the college, needing time and distance to reflect on and process the changes to their bond since Xaden reached for power. Xaden is determined to give her that space, even as his magic drains the longer she stays away. He fights the urge to channel from the earth with everything he has but being a rider, his body is no longer compatible with life without magic. He can wait for her to come back. He can hold out. The alternative is unthinkable

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

Start? Just one: The Shadow Stalker.

A notorious killer is stalking the city of Prythian, killing from the shadows. After six months on the case, FBI Profiler Detective Eris Archeron still has no leads...Until he enters a seedy bar on the edge of the Forest House district and meets a man who will change his life forever

But The Underpants Heist started late last year.

Bodhi Durran has been in love with Liam Mairi since he was fourteen years old. It's a secret he's held close to his chest until a first-year from Liam's squad starts to get under his skin. Following War Games and the events at Resson, Bodhi is overwhlemed by grief, the rebellion, and his new position as Flame Sectionleader and finds himself turning to Liam's squadmate Ridoc for solace as the two scheme an elaborate plan to steal Commandant Panchek's underpants. And somehow, much to his surprise, Bodhi finds himself falling for the larger-than-life rider

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Pink Pony Club

Any time Bodhi has to face the memories of his small hometown, Aretia, Tennessee, it’s painful. But after moving LA just over a year ago, he’s found a new home: at the Pink Pony Club. As a performer at the club, he can be whoever he wants to be. He can be cool. He can be sexy. He can be expressive. He can even be himself. Life in LA is better than he ever could have imagined. His new friends love and accept him for who he is, in a way his friends and family back home never could. He gets to dance without anyone judging him. And tonight, he’s going to get what he wants most of all: the attention of the man at the front-left table who comes to all his shows, the one with the beautiful eyes. He doesn’t even know the man’s name yet, but Bodhi’s determined to meet him at last. Because no matter what Mama or God may think, he is Bodhi Durran, and he is fucking beautiful.

I put my whole heart into this fic. If you only read one thing I wrote this year, let it be this.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

The Shadow Stalker. I did not have a serial killer AU with ethical non-monogamy, dirty bathroom face fucking, and dark romance elements on my Bingo card for this year.

Honorable mention to: Shut Up and Fly With Me. This one might not seem experimental, but it's the only thing I've ever written in first person in my entire life.

After three long years apart, Garrick and Xaden are finally reunited at Basgaith. Only, instead of the romantic reunion Garrick expected, Xaden is holding back, afraid to take their relationship public for whole host of stupid reasons that start and end with Alic Tauri.

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

Uhh. I wrote a fic about Xaden watching his cousin have sex on dragonback...and surprisingly the people loved it.

Dragonback Boink

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

I want to say Paradise by the Dashboard Light...but apparently I wrote it last year. Fuck it. It's my post and I'm saying it anyway.

It was long ago and it was far away and it was so much better than it is today. A Tharion/RQD retelling taking place in 1970's hybrid Lunation/Real-World AU based on the music of Meatloaf.

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

@sholdthebus is one of the sweetest people around and I love all their art. Also @korrinamoe has some of the best Sloane/Aaric art around there and also some awesome are for Crowns of Nyaxia. Of course @silverlude and @xenafay too!

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

@iftheshoef1tz. I cannot read anything that Fitz writes without getting jealous of her talent. She makes writing seem effortless and everything she writes is moving and emotional and sexy.

I also have to call out @hoeelliexx for inspiring a Fourth Wing/AFTG crossover that I've been plotting out.

@born-to-riot and @acourtofladydeath for keeping me engaged with the Azris fandom even as my mind wanders.

And, of course, @suebswrites and @essjaywrites who keep me a functioning writer when all I want to do is quit. Add in @alexandia03 and @greeneyedwildthing who help host the @rq-gift-exchange!

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

This makes me feel like a mother playing favorites. @ubiquitouslyme, @siobhanbooks and @copperfirebird are some of the many talented writers I met this year. (You all better tag the rest of the crew!)

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

LMFAO Yes. Either as pinch hits for the exchange or to cheer each other up on the bad days.

Dear Brennan with @suebswrites

Adventure Kids with @suebswrites and @essjaywrites

The Moment I knew with @korrinamoe

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

I Don't Feel Safe With You Anymore is the first multi chapter fic I've finished.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

Pick and choose your ideas carefully. There are a ton of things I want to write, but if I get distracted by the plot bunnies, then I end up going several months without updating my main fic and it's hard to get back into it.

Also ONLY SIGN UP FOR ONE EXCHANGE AT A TIME.

14. What is your advice?

Find fandom friends. They'll keep you writing, even when you don't feel like it with all their kind words and pestering.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

FINISH TUH

[fruitybashir]

it's been 3 minutes since i read the last chapter and i just wanna ask how are our boys doing right now? will they eventually tell kris' parents that they were fake-dating but are together now? was the first officially-in-a-relationship sex good? how long has bojan been in love with kris? did he realize it during their whole friends-with-benefits thing or earlier?

okay okay okay lets get into it

1. how are they doing right now? well timeline wise, currently they are suffering. but right after the end of the fic? doing fantastic. im imagining since its a friday, kris takes another sick day and bojan skips his classes just bc fuck that, and they just went through a lot and finally have each other again and theyre both not willing to let the other out of their sight again for even just a second. kiki has probably noticed kris has not been doing so well lately, so he gladly covers kris' shift. they're gonna just lie in bed a little bit, answer texts from the other guys making sure the others know theyre doing fine, and then they take jans advice and fuck like rabbits.

on saturday they go to band practice together again and maybe just bc kris is a little shit hes gonna go "yeah the song was nice but the guitar could use some improvement" and maybe thats when they start working a third guitar into songs instead of just kris taking over bojans parts? who knows?

2. will they tell kris' parents that theyre fake-dating but together now? i think kris would want to keep that one a secret, mainly bc he knows theyre never gonna let him live it down and maks definitely wont, but he (very begrudgingly) does tell them. and they have a good laugh about it. for all eternity. bc i think miha and chantal are the kind of people who would find that shit hilaaaaaarious and bring it up all the time, they think its very very funny

and they also obv love bojan and are very glad to have him properly in their family now <3

3. was the first in-relarionship sex good? it was the fucking best. they didnt have to hold back anymore and enough "i love you"s were said to fill a book with it and then some. it was incredible.

4. how long has bojan been in love with kris? god i wish i knew. i just write the guy, i dont know what the fuck is going on inside his head. i think hes had a mild crush on kris for a while, over the last few years, not very deep or meaningful, mostly when kris picked up jan or smthn bojan would go "damn hes handsome" but that was the extent of it - also bc he was still struggling with his sexuality then.

i think over the holidate timeline .. hm. i imagine that crush skyrocketed when kris just slammed him against the wall that one night and then proceeded to give him the best head hes ever had lol. and i think he definitely acknowledged it as a crush then and it slowly developed into more. i think he maybe realised he was in love shortly after kris stayed with him when he was sick? the major factors there being that kris didnt just take care of him, but actually cared for him. he didnt just drop off some meds and left, he actually took the time to stay with bojan, took a sick day just to be with him, cooked for him, made sure he ate and drank enough, kept him company, everything. thats already an admission of love if you ask me. (both platonically or romantically) but that really did a number on bojan.

i even think bojan let himself admit that it was love pretty early on, but always had the safety layer of "we're just doing this for fun, so its okay if im in love with him bc the "only" consequence is having my own heart broken lol" but then when kris wrote him dopamin and bojan realised this could all be real, suddenly there were more potential consequences to deal with and well you read the last chapter lol

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

Previous chapter | Next chapter | Masterlist

Ch. 13: Weight

Yoongi starts his day in an empty bed. He’s used to it. Hyeri had another early call and left a short couple of hours ago. He rolls out of bed to get himself ready for another day in the studio.

After washing up and getting dressed he’s greeted in the kitchen by a prepared lunch and a note. Hyeri made him a small lunch before she left and wrote a note letting him know how much she loves him. He smiles at the note and packs the lunch into his backpack.

By the time Yoongi gets to his car he’s already feeling weighed down with guilt. She’s so good to him. Too good. The entire drive to the studio he can’t stop thinking about how terrible he is for everything he’s done. Even if he can accept her forgiving him for what he’s done on tour, he can’t accept his temptation taking him away the moment he steps into his studio.

“I don’t deserve her love,” he mumbles taking another sip of liquor while he sits at his keyboard.

He’s plagued with guilt the entire day. He knows he could stop it though. He could put the bottle down and no longer feel guilty for sneaking drinks behind Hyeri’s back. He went the entire day before without a drink, it’s just that easy.

But he’ll just finish off the bottle he has first.

Or maybe it would make more sense to finish the other two bottles he has in his studio so he can start fresh tomorrow with no temptations.

“Fuck,” he sighs to himself once he takes the last sip of his final bottle. He’s managed to accomplish nothing since he’s been there other than finishing off 3 bottles of liquor and repeating to himself how much of a piece of shit he is.

His chest tightens when he sees a text from Hyeri. She tells him she’s on a short break and she just wanted to remind him how much she loves him. She then gushed about the features of her new car. He’s so fucked up and guilty that all he can manage to do is type out a short “I love you too” in response. His guilt is suffocating and only gets worse when Hobi stops by to chat.

Hobi hadn’t seen Yoongi since his disastrous night when they were all out to dinner. Aside from a few texts, he hadn’t been able to see the state Yoongi is really in. He decided to stop by since he was in the office working on his own projects. No matter how hard Yoongi tried, Hobi knew the moment the door opened that Yoongi was in rough shape.

“Hyung,” Hobi says helping Yoongi to his couch. “How much have you already had?”

“I want to start fresh tomorrow,” Yoongi says trying to stabilize his vision.

“What’s going on?” Hobi asks with pain and concern in his voice. “You said you stopped.”

“I did,” Yoongi sighs. “Every time I stop I start again.”

At this point Yoongi is too drunk to hold back. He’s guilty and ashamed and now he’s more sad and disappointed because seeing the look on Hobi’s face is breaking him inside. He can’t stand seeing those he love hurting so much because of him. They all love him but he feels all he’s giving them in return is pain and suffering.

“Get help,” Hobi says softly. “Hyung, we’re all here for you. We only want to see you happy and healthy and you haven’t been either of those things in a while. Talk to us. Tell us what you’re going through.”

Yoongi looks at Hobi’s concerned face and breaks at his soft words. He never thought things would get this way. It’s not what he wanted. He isn’t even sure what he wanted in the first place, but now he’s drowning in guilt because he’s done nothing but continuously hurt the ones he loves most.

“I’m sorry, Hoba,” Yoongi says holding back his tears. “I’ve done nothing but fuck shit up. She still loves me after everything I’ve done. You guys are still here when I pretty much fucked up the entire tour.”

“Hyung-“

“I mean it,” Yoongi continues. “I thought I could stop on my own. I did for a little bit. I don’t know why it’s so hard for me to stop now.”

“You don’t have to try to do it on your own. We’re here for you. Hyeri too. You know all she wants is for you to be ok.”

Hobi’s words only strangle Yoongi more. Sneaking around is much worse than telling the truth. Hurting his brothers and the love of his life is worse than anything in his mind. He’s already done everything to ruin any trust anyone had in him and he would never forgive himself if he is successful in finally pushing them all away.

“I can’t face her like this,” Yoongi says anxiously.

“Yes you can,” Hobi encourages. “You have to be honest with her. With…all of us.” Hobi hangs his head trying to calm the sudden pang in his heart. Yoongi has never been so low and it hurts them all that he doesn’t feel like he can be honest with them. They know exactly how Hyeri feels.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi apologizes again. “I want to be better for all of you. Hoseok, please, what do I do? All I know is the bottle. I drank because she hurt me. I drank so I wouldn’t feel the hurt. I drank because I didn’t want to be myself because being myself hurts. I drank because I stopped drinking. Then I drank because I feel bad for drinking. I can’t stop it, Hoseok.” Yoongi puts his head in his hands and tries his hardest to keep from loudly crying out in pain.

“Tell her,” Hobi says. “Tell her everything you just told me. If you don’t do anything else, at least do that. She just wants to support you but she can’t if you don’t tell her you’re struggling. Me and the members…” he pauses at the amount of pain on Yoongi’s face. “We want to support you. We love you, hyung.”

Yoongi immediately breaks down. Those words carry so much weight coming from Hoseok, and it’s too much for Yoongi to bear. He can’t stop crying. He isn’t sure he’s ever cried this much in front of one of the members. Everything is burning inside him.

He needs to tell Hyeri. If he keeps holding on to this he’ll never be able to be at peace. She shows him so much love that the longer he goes hiding his relapse, the shittier he feels.

The next day, Hyeri has a slightly later call time. She’s able to sleep in a bit longer and wake up with Yoongi. While he gets himself ready for another day in the studio, she prepares breakfast for him. She packs another small bento lunch for him. Then she returns to him with endless kisses and words of adoration.

The more she does for him the guiltier he feels. He wanted to tell her while eating breakfast, but the sparkle in her eyes took his voice away. He wanted to say something when she packed the bento box into his backpack, but her enthusiasm for his work paralyzed him. He tried so hard to say something when she was kissing him goodbye, but the words were sucked away by her soft lips.

He spends the day in his studio going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She’s too good for him, he has to tell her. She’s going to be so disappointed in him for being a failure, he can’t tell her anything.

Later that evening, Hyeri tells him she has the next day off. The drama she’s shooting is ahead of schedule so she gets the next day to relax. She tells Yoongi in excitement hoping he could miss a day in the studio to spend the day with her. She admits that she had been wanting to try a restaurant that recently opened up in town and she made reservations for dinner and was hoping Yoongi would be able to at least take time for that. She then takes time to thank him for her car. She tells him of more features she discovered and ends her long text telling him how much she loves him and how happy he makes her. Her words only deepen the mass of guilt he’s carrying.

Of course he’s going to take the day to spend with her. The one day he managed to stay sober was when he was with her and doing things for her. If he’s sober, he can feel less like a piece of shit.

Or so he thought.

The day starts with Hyeri preparing breakfast. She brews him a cup of coffee and tells him to not lift a finger. He sits at the table as she makes a plate for him. She hums a sweet song as she floats around the kitchen plating the meal she put together for the two of them.

Yoongi loves Hyeri’s voice. He fell in love the first time he heard her. Her honey vocals never fail to soothe every part of his body. He feels so fucking terrible. Even after talking to Hobi yesterday he still stopped to grab another drink on his way home last night. He sat in his car and drank the entire midsized bottle before going inside and slipping into bed next to a sleeping Hyeri.

During breakfast Hyeri sits across from Yoongi and tells him all about her day yesterday. She’s happy and enthusiastic as if she’s completely forgotten the things that Yoongi has done. The things he’s still doing. He has so much guilt crushing him that he can hardly eat his food.

“Babe?” Hyeri asks from across the table. She began to notice the unease on his face and now she’s starting to worry. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi lies. “No,” he immediately confesses shaking his head. “I’m not ok, Hyeri. Baby you’re…” he pauses to repress a sob. “You’re so good to me,” he strains to say. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. You put up with me and I feel like I do nothing but give you reason after reason to be done with me.”

Hyeri isn’t sure what he’s going on about, but she reaches for his hand hoping to comfort him. He looks so pained it breaks her heart. He squeezes her hand and continues sobbing.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “I fucked up again and you don’t deserve to have to deal with my shit.”

“What?” She asks tilting her head. She doesn’t want to fear the worst, but she may not be able to control herself if he tells her he got a blowjob from another stranger. Of all things he could confess to her, she doesn’t think she can take that type of confession again.

“I had a drink last night,” he admits. “I had a few drinks during the day. Hyeri, the moment I went back to the studio I started drinking again and I’m such a terrible piece of shit for trying to hide it from you. I just don’t know what to do,” he cries. “You deserve nothing but the best, but I keep fucking up. I’m so sorry.” He releases her hand and hangs his head with tears flowing down to his plate.

“Yoongi,” she says softly. “Why are you just now telling me? I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you hide from me.” She has tears building up in her eyes and it only deepens Yoongi’s guilt.

“I can’t face you. It’s so hard,” he sobs. “I don’t want you to be disappointed in me but all I ever do is things that disappoint you. I’m so sorry, Hyeri.”

“Baby I’m not disappointed in you if you tell me you need help. I’m here for you and I’ll do anything to help you. I just want you to be ok.” She’s trying to mask the trembling in her voice, but it’s hard. He looks so broken and it twists her up inside.

Yoongi can hardly get another word out through his sobs. He hadn’t realized just how hard it would be for him to ask for help. It’s painful and it frustrates him that it’s so difficult. Hyeri gets up and comes around the table to wipe the tears running down his face. She’s never seen him so low. He leans into her chest and continues crying as she offers comfort.

“I’m here for you,” she says. “We can work through this together.”

It’s certainly not how Hyeri saw the day starting, though she can’t say she’s surprised that he’s fallen back into his habit. She knew the moment she saw the bottle of whiskey in his car missing that he was likely drinking heavily again. The other night was the first time she felt she may have been wrong. He hadn’t had a drink that day and she was so happy to finally see the Yoongi she’s known and missed. The gentle lover who caters to her every need and satisfies her every desire.

She appreciates him being honest and asking for help. It’s been hard for her to trust him and now that he’s opened up she hopes that means she won’t have to keep checking all of his hiding places for booze. The state he’s in is hard for her to watch so she’s determined to help him get back to his healthy self.

Hyeri had been excited about the dinner reservation she made for them, but she decided it would probably be better to stay home and order in. She doesn’t want him to have to face any temptations at the restaurant, and she knows he loves to have a good food and drink pairing. Instead she does as she always does. She takes care of Yoongi.

He told her about how much he had been drinking since he started back at the studio and her jaw is nearly on the floor. She had no idea just how much he’d been drinking until now. She’s surprised he’s even still alive and she almost wants to take him to see a doctor because she can’t imagine his liver is in good shape. Multiple large bottles of strong drinks in a day, everyday, is insane.

Yoongi cried so much he wasn’t sure he’d have any tears left in him, but they seemed to find a way anyhow. Whenever he thought of how lucky he is to have Hyeri supporting him he would start to feel guilty again. He wants to do this for her so he can finally be the person he feels she deserves.

Things start off surprisingly easy. He had nothing left and Hyeri made sure of it. When the thought would creep into his mind he would just look at the photo of her car after her accident. He continues carrying so much guilt because of that so it’s been one thing that can always bring him out of temptation and remind him why he’s doing this. He felt that method was working well and he found himself happier and freer.

With their comeback getting closer, the guys have begun working on choreography. With Yoongi’s newfound happiness from being alcohol free and back at a healthy weight he’s been getting through practices with ease. The guys are all more than happy to see Yoongi looking and feeling much better.

At home, Yoongi and Hyeri spend whatever free time they can together. It’s not much with their schedules, but they make it work as they always have. When Yoongi has to see Hyeri off he can’t help but smile at the necklace she’s wearing. The one he bought her in New York and she hasn’t taken it off since they made up. Hyeri smiles back happy that he finally started wearing the bracelet she got him again. He couldn’t put it on because it only made him feel guilty. Now it motivates him.

Yoongi not only has the love and support from Hyeri to keep him going, but his brothers as well. They’re beginning to shoot more and more content for their album and he’s doing everything to stay on his best behavior with cameras being around every corner. Still feeling guilty from his performances on tour, he feels much more responsible for being his best for this comeback. He owes it to them and to Army.

The guys have been ecstatic about Yoongi’s sobriety. Hobi told the rest of the guys about finding Yoongi drunk in his studio. They were preparing to pause all practices to have a tough talk with him. They were surprised and a little skeptical to see him show up for practice sober. They gave it time but realized he truly was completely sober. No hidden flasks or extended bathroom breaks. They decided maybe they didn’t need to have a talk with him.

He was outgoing during their Festa live. They had an assortment of food and drinks but Yoongi stuck to his diet and drinking tea. He read chat comments and stayed responsive to everything going on. Everyone feels so happy to see Yoongi this way. It even brings a tear to Hyeri’s eye as she watches the live during a break she has in schedules. He looks so happy and healthy and she’s never been more in love with him.

Yoongi feels amazing. He’s proud of himself, he and Hyeri are doing great, and he’s excited about the group’s comeback. He hasn’t had a drink in nearly two months and he’s been feeling so much lighter.

Their comeback announcement finally went out and now things are really starting to pick up. There’s lots of excitement and fans are just as anxious to hear their new music. Their schedules are getting busier each day. There’s so many interviews, promos, and appearances that keep rolling in.

Finally the day comes and BTS embarks on another comeback season. They hit the ground running with performances and appearances on tv shows. The response to their album has been very positive and it makes Yoongi feel even more invigorated. He hasn’t had this much energy in a long time.

After making their promotional visits to nearly everywhere in the country, they head off for a round of overseas promos in the US. This will be the first true test of his resistance. The last time he was in the US things were a complete wreck. He’s determined to prove to himself and everyone else that he can get through this trip, this time away from Hyeri, without having a drink. They’ll only be there for two weeks, so it can’t be that bad.

On their third day in the US, Yoongi feels like he has a fever. He doesn’t though. He’s perfectly fine. It’s just the drinks in the minibar are starting to infiltrate his dreams. He didn’t think he would suddenly struggle like this. He wanted to talk to Hyeri about it, but when he talked to her he couldn’t find the courage to do so. If he tells her he’s struggling with temptation then she may think he’s there doing all of the things he was doing last time. The drinking until he blacks out, the blowjobs from strangers, and the getting robbed. He doesn’t want her to worry when he’s so far away.

Two days later he’s waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. He keeps trying to remind himself that it’s all in his head. He can’t make it. In the morning he calls Jin to his room and unloads everything in the minibar into his arms. He hasn’t had a single drink but he’s afraid he’ll break if he has to be around those drinks any longer.

Jin is happy Yoongi reached out instead of trying to face this alone. He takes the drinks and has a manager bring Yoongi the teas and juices he likes. Yoongi is grateful for Jin and he feels much better being honest about it. He even told Hyeri the next time he talked to her and she expressed how proud of him she is. To Yoongi that was a huge obstacle that he was able to overcome.

When they return home he feels a wave of relief. Nothing can stop him now. To him that was the hardest test he would have to face and he made it through. He feels unstoppable.

A/N: Hi everyone! First I’d like to say how much I appreciate each and every one of you for supporting this story, you guys are awesome! 💜 I want to let you all know that there will be no new chapter next Monday. Life decided to suddenly throw me a curveball and I just need a little time to simply rest and refresh. No worries though because I’ll be back on the April 1 with a new chapter. Take care of yourselves 💜😊

[jensenscomedyelbows]

SPN FIC REC FEST #2

kinks/whump

*disclaimer: all Wincest unless otherwise specified*

*assume all recs are rated EXPLICIT*

*and that all participants give AND receive*

(I’m aware this outs me as having a one-track mind that rhymes with Skinfest. I’m okay with that.)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1450051

BRAND SPANKING NEW by lazy_daze and mickeym

Kink: Spanking, Preseries. Teenagers. Dean gets angry and spanks Sam…who likes it.

https://andreth47.livejournal.com/33899.html

THOSE DAMN PINK PANTIES by andreth47

Panty kink. Preseries. Teenagers. Poor Dean. He has to deal with Rhonda Hurley, blue balls, pink panties, and Sam

(this author passed away many years ago now, but LJ has her fic library in Memorial status)

ALL the Wincest andreth47 ever wrote in this journal is FIRE, and it’s all still online

https://destina.livejournal.com/363746.html

HIGHER LEARNING by destina

Kink: Threeway

Wincest with a lucky, lucky OFC

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44594722

SAM WINCHESTER’S POST-BREAKUP CARE PACKAGE COURTESY OF DEAN WINCHESTER by kestra_troi

Kink: Masturbation Size kink :D

As part of a healing process after a breakup (Eileen), Sam jerks off.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/179913

PLAUSIBLE DENIABLE by leonidaslion

Kink: Masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism Preseries. Dean finally has some alone time with his dick. Part of a very fucked up story known as the Suite Verse, which is for my fellow freaks out there who enjoy a little Dean sub action and a lot of dom boy!king Sam/end of the world BDSM action.

However, this particular chapter is for my Dean girls who enjoy him jerking off and possibly/probably getting caught. By Sam. There are probably at least a few of us :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8723434

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS by rue37 [archived by sinfuldesire_archivist]

Kink: Masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism

This was the very first fic I found when I finally decided to just google Sam and Dean fan fiction, having never in my life read any sort of fan fiction AND not knowing the terms “Wincest” or “slash.” 🥹 You could say it popped my Wincest cherry? I COULD NOT believe my luck. And it was on fanfiction dot net at that time. Season 1, post-Jessica. Sam gives in to temptation at long last. With olive oil. Guess who catches him in the act and won’t leave? Mentions of het, but no in-story het.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/809862

DINNER AND A MOVIE by morgana

Kink: Masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism

They jerk off together to porn sometimes in their skanky motel rooms, so what?

https://bewaretheides15.livejournal.com/11663.html

THUS IT IS PROVEN by bewaretheides15

Size kink. They call Sam “Trigger” at school after someone saw him naked in PE class showers. Trigger was the name of Roy Rogers’ famous horse back in the day. Dean CANNOT let go of this fascinating fact. *fic not moved to AO3*

https://britomart-is.livejournal.com/64706.html

THE AIR MOVES TO FILL THE SPACES WHERE MY BODY HAS BEEN by britomart_is

and

https://britomart-is.livejournal.com/90995.html

THE FRIGHTENED INCH BETWEEN OUR SKINS by britomart_is

Kink: Voyeurism, exhibitionism. Classic fics, around 6K words each, from 2008 that more people should read. Unspecified time period, but Dean is at least 21. Multiple OFCs…until there aren’t. Another one that we’re fortunate to still have access to in 2024.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/6437

THE PTHONUS VERSE by leonidaslion

45K words. Kink: BDSM. Let me take you to a gay bar, gay bar 🎵 Sam and Dean go undercover in a leather bar. In eyeliner and sequins and tight leather pants. Sam finds his inner dom, Dean his inner sub, and then they also take turns hurting each other. Mildly, I think? It’s been a looong time since I’ve read this one, so I’m hazy on details, but maybe some knife play? It’s fantastic if that’s your jam, and it’s usually isn’t mine. Like, at all. But this one is a masterpiece.

[nocompromise-noregrets]

8, 12 and 17 for the 2024 in review ask game. :-)

oooh, thank you! :D :D :D Let's see...

8. What fic meant the most to you to write? Ooooh. Tough one. I think being completely honest it wasn't the ones I wrote, but the two original works I finally got round to posting this year, Hal Peacock's Life Is Perfectly Fine As It Is, Thank You and The Unintentional Redemption of Jack McQueen. I did write a few new bits for both of them, but I've been working on them on and off since 2007 in one form or another and it just feels so great to get them out there at last, and to garner a tiny little readership. I love my disastrous boys Hal and Jack so very much.

12. What fic was the easiest to write? death is certain, life is not just POURED out of my brain, and been waiting so long, it's true also just DEMANDED to be written (approximately five minutes after I declared I had no time or brainspace for a new fandom, oops), I haven't had something quite like that in a very long time indeed.

17. Share your favorite opening line oh man. I am terrible at picking favourites, but let's see...oh yeah, this is one I am very fond of. Here, meet Jack, in chapter 2 of Hal And Jack Do Pride Every Year Now Apparently:

Somehow Hal and I are still regulars at Ivana Cutabitch’s Drag Karaoke, we’re there every week, and I cannot figure it out, the music is almost a hundred percent shite and I fucking loathe karaoke.

He's a charmer. XD And for something a little more traditional, in A Beautiful Day In Eregion:

It is a beautiful day in Eregion. Celebrimbor sips at his morning mug of tea on his balcony and drinks in, too, the warmth of the sun and the singing of the birds, the gentle breeze upon his face. It is a beautiful day, and his greatest work is almost complete.

wheeee, thank you so much for asking! <3333333 anyone else fancy asking me some year-in-review fic questions? :D :D :D

[xilianx]

AO3 ASK GAME DO THEM ALL DO THEM ALL NEOW ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 (pls)

I AM...SO LATE AHHHH IM FINALLY GETTING THROUGH THESE I'M SO SORRY!!!

Just saw these 20 Questions for Fic Writers and decided I wanted to do it so ....... here it is! Lmao.

How many works do you have on AO3?

20!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

513,741 words…oh lawd

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I’ve written for Godzilla in the past but now I write just for Bayonetta! More will come eventually…if my hyperfixation can be dethroned lol

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

The Witch of Causality (Bayonetta 3 reimaging/re-work)

Some Words Left Unsaid (AncientBayonetta AU where shit almost went reaaaaally bad for BayoJeanne)

Down By The Red Poppies (Sequel fic to “Where the Lobelia Would Grow, more Bayonetta AU)

Where The Lobelia Would Grow (First ever fic I wrote for the Bayonetta fandom!)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I try to at least. I love getting comments on my fics (i mean, what fic author doesn’t???) And I love all the support that’s given and the fact someone takes time to leave me a comment, long or short, just makes my day 😭😭 I’m sorry to those who comment that I hadn’t replied too or haven’t too yet. I promise you I appreciate them so much ❤️

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooooooo….I wanna say either ‘Vessel’ or ‘Forgotten Visage’. Both have pretty harsh endings that only insulate that it leads to more pain later. ‘Vessel’ is just straight up a Soulsbourne boss style fight with all the tragedy of a Soulsbourne boss fight tied in, and ‘Forgotten Visage’ is just sad AU of what evil Balder was doing right after Rosa died…so yay, they don’t go anywhere sad. BUT IF I HAD TO CHOOSE….I’m gonna throw it at Vessel lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Idk if I’m gonna get some hate from certain oomfs from this, but I’m gonna say ‘Down By The Red Poppies’ has one of the happiest BECAUSE of everything that had happened to all the characters throughout the fic (And even the first fic!) and making it in the end. There was def a lot of hurt and pain and angst throughout Lobelia and Poppies, but I think the ending the fic made it all the worthwhile and despite the pain/tragedy, it’s gonna be okay 🥲

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, not really. Not that I’ve ever seen!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have written smut ONCE!...It was the last half of one chapter out of a 117,000 word fic…HAVE I ATTEMPTED TO WRITE MORE SMUT SINCE, YES AND I AM NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO FINISH IT YET!! The smut in Red Poppies was my first ever smut and it was, like, tender and sweet?? But the Balrosa smut that I have a low simmer is def meant to embarrass that fucking twink lol

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven’t, and don’t plan to!! Not my thing, to read or write.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so, not that I am aware of…

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Another one that’s; if any of them are, I’m not aware of it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I haven’t done anything like that yet! Would be cool to do it, if given he chance!!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

YOU ALREADY KNOW!!! BRING EM OUT, TOMMY:

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Ohhhhhh hohohho hahaahah AHAHAHAHAAHAHAA!!! There’s so many lmao I have so many that are stuffed in folders and forgotten about. There’s a few multi-chapter ideas I wanted to try and do, but with Witch of Causality going on rn (and going on for awhile now) I doubt I’ll ever start them for long long time… (Chinese BayoJeanne AU fic based off of Causality, etc).

But if there is a KING of unfinished WIPS…it’s my now long forgotten Godzilla Final Wars fics from years prior. Sucks because I got to fic 3 out of the trilogy, but I’m just not in it anymore…wish I had the willpower to finish it, but alas, never will.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Lots of my oomfs say all my fight scenes actually ‘feel’ like what Bayonetta fights, so I wanna say I write fight scenes pretty well!! I would say characterization, but I’m only comfortable with a few, not all…

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

looks at long list of comments and notes from my beta reader for the the insane amount of grammatical errors, structure errors, and sentences that just make no sense uhhh….so yeah, I kinda fuck up the actual writing aspect a lot asdjkasdsda

But seriously, I think sometimes (at least for recent, larger fics), I’ve had to pull back on the amount of filler that’s not necessary or structure of a chapter to make it actually make sense…(THANK YOU KELS FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT, YOU KEEP SAVING MY ASS!!)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think if you’re not super well-versed in the language, definitely consult or check with someone who knows!! Or do a bit of digging, especially if you plan on using quite a bit of it!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

GODZILLA!!! Funny enough, I have literally only ever written fics for the Godzilla fandom and Bayonetta fandom. I have read quite a bit for other fandoms, but Godzilla is my dear yee ol faithful!! (Funny enough, it’s specifically only for Godzilla Final Wars as well lol)

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

This one is actually hard…hmmm…It would have to be a tie between Lobelia/Red Poppies. I kinda put them in the same box, even tho they are 2 different fics. Honestly, it was just so fun coming in blind to a new fandom and just slapping together whatever I wanted to do because I really wanted to tell the story and had fun with it. I don’t even think it’s my best stuff, but damn nothing beats crashing into the Bayo fic community with a fic that just (spoilers) kills little Cereza in her own story and I have no regrets ASKJDSADHASDHA

THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME IN THIS KELS!! I'm so late with this, and I feel like this has been tagged to other oomfs, so I will just leave this open to anyone who wants to do it!!

[worldenough-and-time]

ten books

Thanks @spindrifters for the tag!

(In no particular order)

1. The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger (no surprise given my handle, but this is maybe my favorite book ever. I reread it last year to confirm, and yes it still is the best, and I made the mistake of reading the ending while away for the weekend at a friend’s wedding and I cried my fucking eyes out and then I did just a little bit of psilocybin and sang country songs with my friends and had a long talk with my other friend about our creative aspirations and then I was seriously ill for about a week after that, which may or may not have had anything to do with the choices I’d made the previous evening. Anyway, it’s just a great love story. I’m a simple girl.)

2. Beautiful World, Where Are You By Sally Rooney (Everyone has the Sally Rooney book that feels like she read their fucking diary and this one is mine. No, I won’t tell you which parts. But I will tell you that I think the Wedding Chapter in this book is maybe the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. I’m not exaggerating. I slept with this book next to my bed for weeks and finally to break my attachment to it and read something else, I gave it to my friend who hates Sally Rooney to read on her way to London. She did hate it- couldn’t even get past the phone sex scene, which honestly if you don’t think that’s one of the most romantic things you’ve ever read, I really don’t know how to help you. How could you not love this book??! It’s half emails!)

3. The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater (I know this is a series but idc, if I could only pick one it’d be The Dream Thieves but all these books are the Books of My Heart. I reread them pretty much every year. Look, sometimes you’re in college and for the first time in your life you have Guy Friends, and you are a little bit in love with all of them, even though you are all young fucking idiots, and it feels like a revelation for some reason. Anyone? No? Just me? Well, Maggie Stiefvater wrote a book series about that experience so now I don’t have to.)

4. Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller (This book feels like falling in love. All my favorite books feel like falling in love.)

5. Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir (This is really a catch all for the whole series but I’m a Harrowhark bitch through and through, also this book literally rewired my brain such that I could only write in second person for like two months. I think Tamsyn Muir is a mad genius.)

6. Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki (Might be recency bias but I just finished one and really really loved it!)

7. The Host, Stephanie Meyer (I know this is such a weird pick and I could just… not, BUT I unironically love this book. I read it in high school I’ve reread it several times since, it’s kind of a comfort book? Idk how to explain it, but cringe is dead so here we are.)

8. The Fault in Our Stars by John Green (look, you either love JG or you don’t, but I love his writing so much and this book came out my senior year of high school and I carried it around with me in my backpack for months and whenever I would feel sad I would reread it in the middle of class and Mel and I tried to adapt it into a piece for our HS speech team and I can still recite quotes from it and it still means a lot to me.)

9. Fruits Basket by Natsuki Takaya (okay I know this is a manga series and it’s technically 23 books, but Furuba is my Bible, and any list without it would be wrong. I read it for the first time at 12 and I reread it every couple of years and every time I come away with something new. Also I think the original TokyoPop translation is far superior to the Viz editions and it makes me sad that they’re harder to find these days. The 2019 anime adaptation is beautiful but again, I think the TokyoPop translation is better than the anime subs. This series fucking raised me. That is all.)

10. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (look LOOK, it might be the great American novel, okay? It feels so stupid to have it on this list, like, Sam, people fucking know The Great Gatsby is good, we all had to read it for school. Idk man. I love Fitzgerald, truly the saddest sad sack there ever was. His wife was infinitely cooler than him. But God damn could that man write a sentence.)

[rapono-writes-stuff]

Stuff people might be wondering about unfinished and seemingly abandoned fics:

Q: Will you ever continue the "To find belonging where it shouldn't be" series?

A: Maybe, but not a hopeful maybe. I left the fandom in early 2022 (i think?) for multiple reasons, but some of the characters are still blorbos to me. There are 2 fics in the series (1 that was in progress) that I'd like to finish before officially marking the series as complete, but I don't know if I'll ever get around to them, especially since I've already got so much on my plate.

Q: Will you ever continue "In the Boogeyman's House"?

A: Probably not. I'm not as passionate about Myers as I used to be (and some of the new movies haven't helped, along with me not being into DBD anymore). I'm not very good at writing long fics without running into pacing issues. While I totally planned to have it so I could easily time skip over difficult parts so I wouldn't get stuck, I got too ambitious and forgot about that plan, and last got stuck trying to write a complicated scene that just wasn't working out the way I wanted (but was too stubborn to drop it so I could do the joke I'd been planning for it). Would rather keep my focus on my current long fics than add another one to juggle.

Q: Do you plan on finishing the final chapter rewrite (and bonus epilogue chapter) of "Pretend I'm Still Here"?

A: idk anymore. I did have a rewrite partially finished (managed to salvage it from my old phone), but it's been years since I've been active in the Overwatch fandom, and now I worry my depiction would be even more OOC than it was in the original final chapter attempt. I haven't even touched Overwatch 2. Still, I feel so guilty abandoning it, and hope maybe some day I can figure it all out and finish it, finally, after all these years.

Q: What happened to archiving the remaining untyped chapters of "Lost on a Requim"?

A: (muffled screaming) Okay so even tho what was going to be just an archive of an old FNAF fanfic of chapters I wrote on paper but never typed out, turned into me rewriting the chapters to better fit my current writing style, I ended up hitting the brakes hard while trying to type of chapter 6. I was so wrong about chapter 5 being the problem chapter, it was this one. Even if I typed it all up as it was with no changes (apart from spelling mistakes), this chapter was a fucking mess. Rewritten multiple times with several gaps and unfinished scenes, and messily attempted to stitch together like a choose your own adventure book (literally I have instructions to myself to go back/forward x amount of pages for next section). I have to rewrite some of this just so it's cohesive, but it's been a nightmare to do so. Been procrastinating (or just avoiding) working on it, but maybe someday I'll figure out how to make it at least somewhat cohesive.

Q: What incomplete fics are 100% discontinued?

A: Mostly just super old ones: Art of Corruption | Curing the Dead | Scorched Strife | Blood Pact | A Cup of Coffee & Piece of Heart Cake | Human Child | Bonded by Blood, unfortunately

[endless-oc-creations]

WIP Wednesday/Sentences: Friday Edition

So, the original tag game is called WIP Wednesday, but since it takes me freaking forever to answer any tags or asks, this is the time I got it done lol!

Anyway, thank you so much @asirensrage for the tag! You always seem to tag me in writing games and give me the tiny motivation to add some more sentences to my long lists of WIPS! 😂

Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original/other) and tag as many people as there are words in a sentence. (or not)

Tagging: Any of my writer friends who are reading this that's been meaning to work on their WIPS!

WIPS can be found in the keep reading section!

1.) A little Wicked, my unpublished Scream oc, Linda Sandoval, fanfic.

It seemed like, no matter where they were or what they were doing, Linda’s mother would always talk about flowers and their meanings.  Like a rose could mean fidelity and love.  A simple white lily could mean purity or sweetness. And even a dahlia flower could mean instability… 

2.) Back in Black, my unpublished Supernatural oc, Elizabeth Winchester, fanfic.

“It’s okay, Sammy” Liz spoke softly, just like her mother showed her when Sam was too fussy. “What a good big sister you are Do you take care of Sam a lot?” Azazel asks interested. His bright yellow eyes gleamed, looking as if he had an idea.  The two-year-old child in turn smiled big and nodded. “ I love taking care of Sammy, and helping Mommy with him” Liz replied happily.  “I have something to give Sam, would you like to help me?” Azazel asked with a smirk. 

3.) Crazy Train, my Stranger Things Oc, Benjamin Hopper , fic that's been published and taken down so I can rewrite the first chapter for the 5th time 💀

Ben looked up and felt himself tensing up again, trying to brace himself for the interrogation he was probably about to face. But, it didn’t come, instead, Benny was examining the newest cuts on his hands. “Alright bud, let’s get these cuts cleaned up, thankfully they don’t look like they need stitches,” Benny said while he led Ben to the sink in the kitchen.

4.) Cosmic Twins: Chapter Two, my MCU, Guardians of the Galaxy oc, Kevin Quill, fic that's probably the only one posted out of my WIPS 💀 God this gif I inserted below is so old 😳 That tells you how long it's been since I've even worked on him or his fic 😥

“I don’t wanna say I told you so, but I told you so…” Kevin grumbled with an annoyed huff, crossing his arms. 

5.) Set Fire to Rain(Book 2 from my The Walking Dead Oc series featuring my oc, Everleigh Horvath) Have I even posted or written chapter one out of book one? Absolutely not but do I still write some quick scenes that stick out to me that I wanna add into the future? Yes... yes I do. So, this is why this one is longer than the others lmao.

As Daryl started to walk away from her and Rick, Eve, in a quick desperate attempt to stop him from moving, grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back towards her, making him turn around to meet her eyes.  Eve couldn’t fathom him leaving her side, their family’s side now after what they had all already been through together.  “Daryl please don’t…wha-what about us? Eve asked, staring into the other man's eyes in a silent plea. They haven’t even talked about what they had yet, not even had a chance anyway. About the small meaningful touches, sharing a bed to keep the nightmares away, or even the other night of shared passion.   Daryl refused to meet her gaze still, ever since Merle had forced his way back into their group’s life he hadn’t looked at her.  He then roughly yanked his arm away from Eve’s grasp, which in turn made her stumble forward a bit from the force.  “We aren’t anything…you were just some quick fuck” Daryl spat, meaning to be spitful as he finally looked into Eve’s eyes.  But, Eve could see that he didn’t mean it…there was guilt in his eyes and regret in his voice.

[randomnameless]

The zombie ask made me remember a thought I had for SS's final chapter where anyone who got blood directly from Rhea would have been resurrected to protect her (their vision is like that horror game blurry where they can see enough to spot you but can't see you from across the map). Jerry and Willy are mini-bosses near Rhea to make the area around her dangerous. Jerry and Billy having a talk where Jerry says anything he wished he could've said in life‚ and Willy having convos with empire (1/3)

(2/3) and nabatean units. Like Willy saying to Seteth‚ "Cichol! How long has it been? About the shield-" and Seteth wondering if the Willy talking to him is actually there or it's Rhea perception of Willy talking. Willy's empire convos would lean towards Willy himself is talking‚ with him saying to Ferdinand‚ "I never thought I'd see the day that anyone related to Aegir would join Nemesis." Him mistaking Bernie for Indech. And Billy's would be Willy thinking they're Nemesis (3/3) "Despite my vision‚ I know that's you Nemesis. I don't know how you're alive but this time you're staying dead!"‚ and anyone related to the elites as "After Seiros sparred you all‚ you dare turn your blade against her?! Do you even know what your 'relic' is made from?" TL;DR: I wanted more WoH content despite Nopes giving some‚ and thinking about how can I jam in as much as I can with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Sorry for the long ask‚ wanted to get these thoughts out of my system.

No pbs anon!

I guess we all didn't like at all how the game bothered to bring back zombies but never wrote battle quotes against them (tfw Seteth'n'Flayn have no battle quote against Nemesis...)

I was going to hype zombie!Ionius, but he never got her blood directly, so he wouldn't have been resurrected :(

(let's be real, if zombie!Ionius was real and brought back in his prime, he would fold those Faerghian barbarians and those foreigners with his pinky, because he'd be that much of an awesome unit)

However, instead of them being "mistaken" because their resurrection failed about what's happening, I'd say let them get full awareness (as much as they can muster) about who they're fighting against!

I'd see a Jerry-Billy convo being a lot of apologies, especially since Billy accepted to take Rhea's mantle and was/is truly happy in the Monastery, something Jerry obviously wrote off when he ran away all those years, maybe we could have Jerry muse that it's weird how he was "brought back" to protect a Rhea who lost her mind know, and how ironic it is, when he should have stayed and maybe if he didn't ran away all those years ago, Billy would have led a happier life, and whatever Rhea's having right now wouldn't have happened. Billy ultimately putting his grievances to rest, saying that despite everything, they are still happy Jerry's their dad, and maybe ends with some "thank you Father" instead of calling them Jerry (in an AU where Billy is voiced, of course!).

Maybe a convo with Leonie too, where Jerry tries to goad her into killing him, saying she never got what it "takes" to be a merc, because she is a nice kid and isn't able to put her morals aside for a bag of money.

And with Alois, Jerry could encourage him, for the "first and last time", saying he'll make a fine Captain of the Knights, and to please not end up like him, mocking the wishes of his wife and not doing everything he could for the kid.

---

Emperor Willy himself wondering where the fuck he is, but if Seiros is in this form, then he has to protect her - and it this is the post Lycaon death AU* Willy isn't surprised at seeing Adrestia turn its blade against Seiros, because Adrestia is a failure and he lost faith in the world.

Against Cichol, Willy could open the convo with the shield, noticing how Cichol took "his" shield, Seteth tries to reply but it's useless, and asks him to stand aside, Willy says he cannot, even for him, his "brother" because Seiros is his priority, and if in that state she'll bring ruin to the world, then so be it, Seteth sighs, apologises (and rekts him).

I suppose Flayn would ask him to get the fuck out of the way, and Willy will refuse, but also apologise for what happened to her, and her mother too (and her cousin!), but crusts this world and its inhabitants are to blame.

Willy against Billy... well, Willy will think they're one of Nemesis's scion even if he thought the guy died childless- despite their hair color, he knows better after all! - and reveals he was on Macuil's side, and told Seiros mercy would be wasted on the likes of them (the Elites' families and, I suppose, Nemesis's potential fam?), but she didn't listen to him.

Willy against the Empire peeps would be hilarious though, because in the AU* Willy ditched it after Lycaon's death, so he'd be pretty pissed that the same Empire now tries to kill Seiros. Maybe he'd call Ferdie a scion of traitor, referring to Derrick, who pledged his loyalty to an usurper (Empress Hildegarde, who took the throne after Lycaon's death), raving about how he descends from a line of traitors, and he will put an end to this farce himself (with his stats? lol).

Willy'd also be pissed seeing Bernie, digusted at what Adrestia became if Bernie, as a noble, is what Adrestia's finest has to offer (maybe insert a fire joke or two) - Bernie could find the courage to fight back against this rando who insults her and tell him to shut up, because she wants to fight to protect people now.

Lin would maybe comment on Willy being, well, Willy, and wondering why the fuck is he fighting against the Empire, maybe with Willy telling him this is what he should have down instead, cutting off his own "blood"* for the sake of Fodlan, but he will correct this mistake right now.

Caspar would be interested in fighting this "strong warrior" from ancient times, if the fate of Fodlan wasn't at stake, Willy'd swore he came from an Elite family with a mindset like this, but only be digusted.

As for Petra, maybe we could get an ancient exemple of Adrestian assholery, like Willy saying he thought the people of "Eyvel" wouldn't be mindless allies of the Empire, and how mistaken he was, they're "savages" after all - only for Petra to reply with some "who are you? Get out of my way plz" (and she crits him and he dies).

And for Doro... I guess their convo would be the most important "lore wise", Doro immediately recognises him and wonder if he is here to avenge Edie - Willy immediately cuts her off, asking why he should even care about that person when no one avenged his son when he was murdered by his "bastard" siblings (confirming that Supreme Leader is not part lizard!).

*The AU I'm talking about is the AU I came up with, aka Lycaon being a half lizard, being named heir, murdered by his "human" half-siblings/nephews - Willy learns it and immediately bails out of Adrestia, having lost faith in Fodlan, humanity and well, most likely everything. After 80 years of chronic depression (while Rhea is now obsessed with bringing back Sothis, because she will make the world go round, and be safe anew for Nabateans living and the ones that would be brought back, humans, and even Lycaon who will obviously return - Willy doesn't believe it) he passes away after having found some sort of renewed faith in the world (seeing all those people coming to the Monastery and tending to their daily lives, looking after orphans, etc etc). So obviously, when he's brought back at the end of SS and sees Adrestia, targeting Seiros/Rhea, he loses it and becomes an extra kind of asshole (a tru hresvelg).

I agree with you though, maybe add a bit of "savages" and "ungrateful barbarians" here and there, but I don't think Willy is even going to listen to reason or even try to listen at all (like a tru hresvelg) anyone who descends from an Elite.

Maybe after those two mini-bosses, Seteth would say that those "persons" were not the ones they were in life, and how the Crest (crusts are to blame!) warped their personalities, only for Flayn to follow with a meaningful "..." - opening a lot redshit threads for fans to "give their own version" lol

---

And for extra useless completionist stuff, like, if you picked the "Nabatean" option in the Sothis paralogue when Supreme Leader asks you who was lived in the Red Canyon, got a C+ support with Supreme Leader and went to her coronation, fought her using Billy and the Nabateans (with the famous "your ears are pointy you cannot rule over humans"), have both Billy and the Nabateans fight against Thales and Billy had a A support with all Nabateans, after Jerry and Willy's death, Berserk!Rhea would unleash a large scripted AoE on the map, empty husk!Lycaon could appear on the map, maybe as a white beast like creature on steroids, but who looks more like the IO than a regular White Beast (he has arms and wings?), who starts on the opposite side of the map and goes in your direction, but unlike the other white beasts, damaged dealt on Rhea won't be reflected on him.

Obviously, if the party kills him, Berserk!Rhea suddenly gains "Wrath" - but if you stall too much, empty!husk Lycaon has stats to ruin your party (unlike Willy!). Also if he dies then A support or no A support Rhea doesn't survive.

(And maybe if you accidently kill him, Billy gets "!" box popping up, with a new use of "Divine Pulse" coming out from nowhere, as it's Sothis' way to ask them to find a way not to kill him)

Billy will reveal what that unit is, idk, maybe they're closing their eyes and say that they are only a body animated by idk, the resonating power of the IO's Crest - but their true spirit has been long gone, now only remains a body and the rage it had before passing away. Then Billy opens their eyes, and says they would have wanted to meet him under other circumstances (but who is talking? Billy? or Sothis?)

Flayn despairs seeing her "cousin" (confirming her ties to Rhea!) in this situation, apologises for not having been able to be there for him, idk, like she promised too, but this time, she will.

Seteth too is saddened and while he wonders how many members of his family he will have to kill today, he tells Lycaon that this is final lesson, so he better remember it.

Ah, and in this revamped SS finale (since we're in AU land!), Relics work like Devil Weapon against Rhea and Lycaon - damage isn't dealt to the foe, but to your unit instead! And if your unit survives, the Relic insta-breaks (as a gameplay mechanic like 0 uses left).

End of the fight, Rhea survives (?), there is some ending blurb about every White Beast who wasn't defeated vanished "as if they were finally put to rest", that S support is revamped to have Rhea more or less say she has to move on now and cannot be stuck in the past, and has to let the past "rest in peace" to finally move forward - both for her and the one shes so dearly misses (ending line would be Billy in brackets musing how rare it is to see Sothis smile).

Ultimate bonus if this is the last route you play (or finished all the other routes), and if you got this ending, you'd have a special scene at the end, of Rhea and Billy waving hands at an assembly composed of all BE students (some of them waving back! even Bernie!), members of staff/knights, some randoms, but also, 11 randos with green hair and pointy ears, idk, wearing tunics with their emblems to know who they are, Willy (back to his bright and stupid self) carrying kid!Lycaon (with his pointy ears!) on his shoulders, some other random woman next to Flayn with a matching haircut, Manu pulling at Seteth's pointy ear (if they got their A+ support, else he frowns like usual), ghost!Jerry and ghost!Sitri waving too, and adult!Sothis (all the ghosts are transparent like, save for adult!Sothis - again, it would have been made on purpose by the devs who wondered if that would have created fanwank about Sothis' state, dead or alive?).

Not to say ghosts are real in Fodlan, but it would be some sort of representation that both dead and living people are happy to see a world where both humans and Nabateans can live together - even if they're dead, their dreams live on, or some stuff like that.

But of course, to get this ending, you'd have to get the most out of Supreme Leader's beliefs and the general intolerance that permeated Fodlan since, well, the Red Canyon, but even before (the first agarthan war?).

[venusguks]

Unlike You

pairing : jeon jungkook x fem!reader

summary : As daydreamy and romantic as you are, you decided true love was going to have to wait for you tonight. That was because tonight, you were getting laid !! ...Your best friend doesn’t make it easy for you when he finds out why, though.

warnings : smut, dom!jk, sub!reader, unprotected seggs, fluff, bsf!jk, degredation, dumbification, possessive jk, jealous jk, fun sexy times, jk is whipped for mc, oral (fem receiving), body worshipping, jimin/reader but only for a sec

“A club?” Jungkook raised his brow.

He was incredulous and slightly displeased as he watched you pace around your room. It was rare after all, new to see you like this―in a black, satin dress with a slit high enough to make him upset. He didn’t need you catching anyone else’s attention, especially in a neon lit bar full of ravenous people.  “For the seventh time, yes, Kook,” You huff, jarring your mouth slightly to dab a dreamy red over your plush lips. 

You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so confident as you applied mascara and tickled a delicate pink over your cheeks. More than anyone, Jungkook couldn’t recall ever seeing you this way, this excited to be amidst a crowd of sweaty bodies. You honestly didn’t see why he was being so apprehensive, it wasn’t like you necessarily hated parties―you just always preferred the coziness of your home better. Huge social interactions were never your thing, and that was okay. Being an introvert wasn’t something to be ashamed of anyway, but staying in came with the everyday comforts of baggy sweatpants and sweaters.

So could anyone really blame you for your excitement? You just loved the way getting ready made you feel, missed it. You already knew you were beautiful with or without makeup, but damn did it make you feel confident.

“It’s just...” Jungkook furrowed his brows and ruffled his hair. “This isn’t like you, love. Did something happen? Are you okay? We can talk about it, if you want. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen you know.” 

You sighed exasperatedly at your best friend’s reflection through your vanity. His eyes were uncertain and full of concern as he watched your figure with crossed arms. “Koo, we’ve been over this so many times already. I’m nervous enough as it is, and you’re not helping at all. I want to do this, okay? It’s been awhile. Plus, I haven’t seen the others boys in so long.”

A part of you didn’t want to be annoyed at Jungkook for his incessant worrying, but it truly was hard not to sometimes. “You’re being such a fucking dick, you know that?! Can’t I just live my life without you being so fucking hysterical about it every time?! ” It was that winter a few months ago when you unleashed all your pent up frustration. Jungkook had always been overprotective, and you appreciated him for caring, but he just made it so hard for you to even breathe sometimes. It was the biggest argument you guys ever had when you started dating a boy a few years older. You ignored Jungkook’s calls and messages for weeks, but when you discovered that he cheated on you, Jungkook was the first to be by your side. You still remember the assurance and safety you felt in his arms; with his soft lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet consolations as you sobbed on his shoulder. After that day, Jungkook agreed to be less protective. 

“I just don’t get why it has to be a club. We could meet the hyungs anywhere else, baby.”

“Oh sure, maybe a strip club would do,” you said, chuckling when you see his shock. “I’m kidding, Koo.” Though that wouldn’t be such a bad idea...

Maybe you couldn’t blame him for being so appalled. You usually opted out whenever your friends went out to celebrate, which by the way, was rather often. Night after night, the few of them would call you, practically beg until they realized their efforts would end in vain. By the morning, notifications would spam your phone of their wild night; pictures and details that showcased hookups you didn’t need to know about. Now that you think about it, it was sort of ironic that you’d always grimace to the crude texts.

That was because tonight, you decided you were getting laid.

That’s right, to hell with sweet, wholesome love! If true love had to make you wait, true love would have to wait for you too! Your subscribing 48K readers have been expecting a new chapter of Spring’s Breath, an erotica series, which you’ve delayed for 2 whole months now. You didn’t exactly know when your writers block came, but by the fourth hour you stared at your blank screen, unable to come up with any other synonym for dick or thrust or moan; or how the overused dirty talk you wrote made you cringe―you realized the firecracker you had in writing erotica died out.

It was your dear friend, Hoseok, who suggested the whole ordeal. He was the only one who knew your secret, anyway. You had so much trust in him, so when he professed that maybe if you slept with someone, your spark would come back, you had truly considered it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, no cons would come out of it. It was just odd to think about.

You have always been such a huge romantic, your literature proved it. Jungkook nor you nor anyone would anticipate you hooking up with someone just to hook up with someone. The tenderness, the connection, the intimacy... you’ve always prioritized genuine adoration over whimsical one night stands. You were an honest daydreamer, and maybe that’s why your works would always take off.

But maybe... maybe it was okay to let go once in awhile.

When you mentioned Jungkook being less overprotective, you forgot to put an emphasis on less―because there he was, his hand possessively squeezing your inner thigh every time you even dared to look at a cute boy. You let out a frustrated sigh when he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

You tried not to mind it. It was just in his nature anyway―ever since kindergarten when he found you crying over your dropped ice cream. Jungkook left only to come back with another cone, rubbing your fat tears away with the palm of his sleeve. In elementary school, he peppered you with tiny kisses when you sobbed over the death of your kitten. You’ve only had him for a month, dedicated all your time to him and skipped play dates to care for your little serendipity―but just like that―he was lifeless. It was Jungkook who found him on the road. In middle school, he’d go through the enveloped confessions in your locker and rip them apart, saying you deserved better than any of them. You’ve always looked up to him througha lens of admiration. Everything he did for you, he did it out of thought and care. It was sweet.

It was times like these where you really started to mind though. 

You’ve been giggling with your friends for the past hour, catching up on every minuscule detail. You were sitting in a booth wedged in the middle of Jungkook and Hoseok, brimming with happiness to see Namjoon and Yoongi again. Its been so long, and your heart would swell to the stories you’ve missed out on.

The night was carrying on delightfully! ...except for the fact that Jungkook sent death glares to whoever even glanced at you. The countless of times you shyly returned someone’s gaze, only for them to rush away when they caught sight of your best friend left you agitated. When the boys were engaged in a conversation about a class they all shared together, you decided it was a good time to bring it up. 

Gulping a shot down, you let out a huff. “Kookie...”

“Yes, baby?” He whispered into your ear, his large hand grazing the access of your slitted dress.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what, love?” You sharply inhaled as Jungkook rubbed sensitive circles on your skin.

Immediately standing up, you squeezed yourself out of the booth. “I’m gonna go dance!” You yell through the loud music, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, because seriously, the nerve of that man! The rest of your friends cheered, “We love to see you like this, y/n! Enjoy yourself, cutie!” Hoseok laughed when you blew a kiss to him. He made you feel so much more at ease, so much more confident. Okay, you got this! No use in sitting around. You couldn’t get anywhere tonight with Jungkook by your side, anyway.

Fluffing out your hair after you downed another shot, you strut your way into the dance floor. Your hips swayed in a rather alluring manner as you made your way into the crowd, your fingertips tracing seductive lines from your hips up to your waist, your neck and finally, into the air. The alcohol slowly took its effect as your confidence settled in, rolling your head back and moving your body fluidly to the loud music. 

Truth be told, you didn’t know what you were doing, just knew you must’ve looked good as hell doing it as you felt hands grip your waist. You gasped as a body pressed against your back, sticky with sweat.

“You’re so captivating, princess,” His dulcet voice was enough to make you weak...or was it the alcohol? Whatever the case, get your grip together y/n! It was just four words for star’s sake! 

“I, um, th-thank you...um! You too..” Your confidence from only moments ago dissolved with your voice. “So shy now, princess? How come? You were dancing so sexily just moments ago.” He chuckled lowly against your ear, nibbling it. You whimpered to his brazen touch, his hands guiding your hips with his. “Are you shy for me? Is that it? What a cute little princess you are... so beautiful, fuck.”

Annnnnnnnd you truly were fucked. You professed only hours ago that true love could wait, that you’d be a different woman tonight, yet you couldn’t help but feel bashful to the man’s praise. His voice and his nectar sweet words enough to make you feel wobbly.

“I’m Jimin. Can I know my princess’s name?” He pressed his hardened member against your ass, the silk thin fabric barely doing its job of coverage. “Ah Jimin,” you moaned breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “I...I’m-”

“―Mine,” a low, husky voice finished. Jungkook stood behind you, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The veins on his biceps protruded under the incandescent lights; His white shirt and tight, black jeans doing wonders to complement his physique. 

“Are you deaf? I said she’s mine so why the fuck are your hands still on her?” Jungkook had always been intimidating, even when he didn’t try―so in the rare times he did, even he scared you sometimes.

Much to your disappointment, Jimin immediately lets go, hands in the air, “sorry man, I didn’t know.”

“W-what? Wait, he isn’t my...!” Before you could try to reach for the pink haired man, Jungkook firmly takes your hand. “Y/n, we’re leaving.” You didn’t even have a second to feel shocked before he swiftly guides you through the ocean of bodies. Loud music reverberated with your disappointment, and by the time the night’s cold air stings your cheeks, you've processed what just happened―what you just missed. It’s when Jungkook latches your seatbelt on and drives that you feel anger simmer in your chest.

“Why did you...Why the fuck did you do that, Jungkook?” You were exasperated with your emotions. You just didn’t get it. You were finally having the time of your life, finally stepping out of your comfort zone, finally dancing with a guy who made you feel amazing―just to end up on a drive back home before anything could happen. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem? That was my..! He was..!” You groaned, too frustrated to conjure up words.

Jungkook scoffed, “what, y/n? He was what? Your soulmate or something?”

“I didn’t say that! And even if I think so, why does it matter?! I was having fun! I was having so much fun and you just..! (hiccup) I was having so much fun....” You cried into your hands. “I haven’t felt that way in so long, j-just for you to mess everything up. God, I can’t even muster up words right now. I hate you so much.”

“Love...” Jungkook finally sighed, shutting the engine off. You had cried the whole ride home. The anger he once felt diminished with your tears. “Baby, please look at me.” 

“F-fuck (hiccup) off, Jungkook.” You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. Knowing him as long as you did, you knew he would take your chin to force you to look up at him―but you had enough of him for the night, and honestly, the whole week.

You were just so fucking frustrated at everything. At Jungkook for unnecessarily budging in, at your writers block, at your own sexual frustration left with Jimin. What did you have to offer your readers now? A heartbreak of a possible relationship that never happened with a shitty friend on the side?

You tuned out Jungkook shouting from behind you, striding to you complex and up the stairs.

It wasn’t long after you slammed the door shut that you heard it click open again. You had forgotten Jungkook had an extra spare of your keys. “Just leave me alone, Kook.” You groaned, storming off into your room.

You kicked your heels off and stomped to your bed, taking out your frustration on your pillow where your sobs were muffled. The bed dips down when Jungkook sits beside you, silent as he caressed your hair in the way he always did to soothe your nerves.

Deciding it wasn’t enough this time, he carefully lifts you up to sit on his lap, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest. Jungkook knew you long enough to know hugs were the best remedy for you, even at your angriest moments. He knew you wouldn’t push him away.

“You jerk...” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, sniffling. “I don’t get you, Kookie. Why do you always do this?”

“I...I just wanted to protect you, baby. People have bad intentions, I didn’t want to see you end up doing something you’d regret,” His voice was gentle, brushing hair strands away from your face.

“Stars, Kook, I knew what I was doing. Whether I’d end up regretting it or not, that’s for me to sort out. I didn’t need you to ‘protect’ me. I was really enjoying myself, something I haven’t done in a long time. A-and you just..! You ruined it for me.”

Jungkook scoffed, “so you liked it then, how he was touching you? You were just going to let him fuck you?”

“Yes, Kook!” You yelled. “He could’ve fucked me in the public bathroom or in his car―in front everyone for all I care! He was hot and we were in the moment and you just interrupted! I know you care for me and I’ll always appreciate you worrying but there’s a fine line where your protectiveness should be. I’m not a kid anymore, Kook.”

Jungkook was gritting his teeth, and the two of you only glared at each other before he let out a sigh. Despite him wanting to be mad, he didn’t like making you upset. If you were going to cry because of him, he wanted it to be for an entirely different reason. 

He gently cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze with tender, sad eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes? That I’ve always done anything and everything I could to help you?”

You furrowed your brows, unsure of how that related to anything, but nonetheless, you nod. “Yes, I know Kook.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me to sleep with you, hm? If you needed help so bad, why didn’t you just ask me, baby?” You stared, dumbfounded and mouth ajar as his thumbs brushed the remnants of your tears away.

“W-What are you...?”

“Was so concerned for my baby. Hoseok got drunk and told me everything I needed to know. Did you know how hurt I was? How Hoseok knew something about you that I didn’t? Especially that you were a writer, love. I thought I was your number one, how could you keep that from me?”

“O-Of course you are, Koo! You’ll always be my number one. I just...didn’t want to tell you because it was embarrassing,” you mumbled, glancing away. Damn it Jung Hoseok! After all these years, this is when he accidentally slips it out? “Nuh uh, baby, I’m not having any of that. Look at me.”

Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, an act you were certainly no stranger to, but nevertheless making your cheeks warm. “Not only that, you wanted to go clubbing tonight just to find a stranger to help you, is that right, baby? Wore this tiny dress just so someone could fuck you? Wanted Jimin to fuck you? Wanted to write about him fucking you in the bathroom stall?” Jungkook was speaking softly, though his words were anything but as his hands left your cheeks to trace sensuous lines up your thigh.

Your hands weakly held onto his shoulders, gasping when you felt his bulge press against your sensitive core.

“What was that you said....In his car? Wanted him to fuck you in front of everybody? Wanted to be a dirty slut just for your readers?” You didn’t know how exactly this moment came to be, but his honeyed voice brought you to a daze as you grind your hips against him. You were desperate to feel more—of anything, of him—only to let out a whine when he forcefully holds you down, burying your clothed center into his bulge. 

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you deserve it,” Jungkook’s hot breath tickled your ear. You whimpered as he bit it, hands squeezing your hips. “You used to be so good for me baby, used to come to me for anything. Used to be a good little girl and depend on me. I would’ve helped you, baby. Instead, you became a dirty little slut, let another man touch you. Is that what you are now? A fucking slut?”

“N-no Kookie,” a new bundle of tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sh-should’ve, ah, went to you,” you felt your body succumb to his touch. His nose brushed your jaw, placing warm kisses all over your neck before he glided his tongue down to your collarbone. “Please forgive me, I-I’ll be a good girl for you now, p-promise.”

“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl for daddy?” Jungkook licks the base of your collarbone before sucking it. “Yes..ah, yes daddy. Gonna be so good for you.” 

“And yet you weren’t,” you cried as you felt teeth sink into your skin. “J-Jung― ah, Kookie stop! Please i-it hurts!”

“You deserve this, fucking slut. You know how much you hurt me tonight? You’re secretly just a desperate whore, aren’t you? Missed your tiny cunt getting fucked so much that you’d let a stranger do it for you, hm? Answer me, slut.”

You felt tears drip down your eyes, embarrassment washing over your face. “What? You’re not going to speak now?” You shook your head in desperation. You couldn’t. How could you? It was too shameful.

You yelped when Jungkook picked you up by your waist and turned you over so your face was smushed into a pillow. “Ass up, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He snarled, and you immediately obliged. Jungkook was on his knees, eyes lidded to your position as he rubbed slow circles on your bare ass. “My slut is voiceless now, hm? Begged to be daddy’s good girl but can’t even answer when I talk to you. Why are you being so disobedient tonight, baby?” It happened so fast you could barely gasp as your body lurched forward to the slap. It repulsed through your skin as your right cheek stung with a faint red.

“J-J-Jungkook, ah!” You cried as another slap came, face burying further into your pillow. “I’ll be obedient from now on! s-so please! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, daddy!”

Jungkook’s lips pulled to a smirk, grabbing a bundle of your hair before pulling you towards him. You whimpered and he bent down so he could see your face, tisking. “Oh, my poor baby. Did that hurt? Want to be a good little girl for daddy now?” You nodded ferociously, “p-please yes daddy! I-I’ll be so good for you. Please let me be good for you!” 

Jungkook’s dick felt constrained in his tight pants. He licked his lips to your messy, desperate state. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips just the same as heavy tears streamed down your eyes. Fuck, what Jungkook would give to fuck you senseless right then and there. But no, he needed to wait, needed to be patient. You deserved this.

“Make up your fucking mind, slut. If you want to be a good girl, then take your punishment like a good girl,” Jungkook pushed your face back into the pillow before slapping your ass once more. 

You didn’t know how long it went on, only knew the room was filled with your sobbing and the alarming sound of the contact that met your bruised skin. It hurt, it hurt so much. Your thighs were trembling and both your cheeks were a lovely shade of red and purple. But no matter how much you screamed your endless arrays of i’m sorry’s, Jungkook didn’t fail to notice how your juices soaked your underwear and spilled down your thighs

“Already making such a mess baby,” He groaned to the sight, palming himself to his creation. 

“P-please....hurts so bad...please let me l-lay down daddy, can’t hold myself much longer, please,” Jungkook adored the way you sounded for him, the way he corrupted you. You were perfect there, so perfectly powerless under him. 

“Mm, keep begging baby and maybe I’ll let you,” he unbuckled his pants and discarded them, his cock throbbing to your feeble pleads. “Please, please, p-please, please daddy... please. Hurts so bad, I-I can’t... please i-i’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for daddy. I’ll do anything please.”

“Did you learn your lesson, then?”

“Yes, I-I did, daddy!”

“You’ll be a good girl and obey daddy from now on?”

“Mhm!” You nodded vigorously, and Jungkook chuckled to your desperation. He peeled your soaked thong down, lifting your limp legs momentarily to pull it off until he set you back. You were so tired you felt your thighs give up on you right then, but before you could submit to your exhaustion, Jungkook lifted your ass up higher, arching your back deeper with one hand.

“Mm I don’t think so baby. Obey daddy and keep your ass up like a good little girl.” A gasp left your quivering lips when you felt Jungkook’s breath on your throbbing core.

“You smell so sweet baby, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook hikes your dress up and glides his tongue up your inner thigh, wiping your dripping juices clean. “Kookie, mm, please,” he trails delicate kisses over your skin, nibbling it. “Yes, baby?” 

“P-please...please Kookie..!”

“Use your words, baby. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” Jungkook smiles against your thigh as he hears your soft sniffles muffled by the pillow. His poor baby, always so shy. It was true he loved to tease you, tempt you, and loved making you cry for him—but more than anything, he wanted to take care of you. “Please touch me, Koo, please.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” A sharp shiver crawls across your skin when your pleads are obliged, moaning as Jungkook stuffs his face into your cunt. He kisses your clit softly. One, two, three times before sucking it with his plush lips. His hands were the only thing keeping you up now because you practically melted to the touch. The way his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud already having you see stars. “Ah...feels so good, Kookie.”

“Yeah? Would it feel even better if I do this?” He easily slides his middle finger into your slippery hole, slowly pumping in and out. “O-oh...oh my god, more please.”

“Anything for you baby, but first,” a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him leave you, that is until Jungkook swiftly but gently flips you over so you’re finally laying on your back.

Jungkook’s breath hitches to the sight of you below him, frozen for a moment to the aching pull of his heart.

“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty,” Jungkook’s voice was sweet and smooth as he helped you undress. Fuck, did you know how much you pained him? How much he held back for you, all these years, in this moment? It was so hard not to take you right then, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to touch every single part of you with his lips.

Jungkook has fantasized about you ever since he could remember, but you truly went beyond his imagination. You were so fucking beautiful. 

“...so pretty here,” he kisses your cheeks and your jaw, down to your neck. “And here,” he kisses the valley between your breasts, his hands trailing down your curves. “And here,” your stomach...and finally, taking your clit back into his mouth.

“The prettiest cunt baby, dripping so much for daddy,” he murmurs. His tongue rolls around your clit, pumping two fingers in and out of your slick pussy. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming your senses as ungodly moans escape your mouth. You felt fuzzy and almost light headed, reaching down to hold Jungkook’s curls.

Your back arches and tears stream down your eyes from the intense pleasure exhausting you, his fingers curling into your sweet spot mercilessly. “Do you like this baby?”

“Love it so much, Jungkook,” You moaned breathlessly, looking down at him through your tears and ... wow. 

Jungkook’s brows were creased as he focused on his tongue devouring your wet cunt, plunging his two fingers steadily in and out of you. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, glossed with sweat while your hands curled around the rest. 

You were taken aback with your emotions. Was it strange, how timid you felt then? Doing this with him was supposed to be sinful, yet for some reason, it felt anything but at that moment.

It was the fact that Jungkook looked so intent, so concentrated in making you feel good. How Jungkook showed his care for you, how he always did, how he was doing right now, cherishing you with his best effort. He wanted to give you the best experience he could, wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.

It was unbearable how much your heart swelled for him.

A knot tied in your stomach, and as if noticing your stare, his eyes flutter open to look at you.“Hm, does baby wanna cum now? You can do it love, cum for daddy.”

With that, you came undone in Jungkook’s mouth. Your cries filled the room, and Jungkook opened your hole wider with his fingers, devouring your cream. The sound of slurping made your cheeks heat with an impure red. “That’s my girl, so good for daddy. So sweet for me baby, so beautiful.”

When you went limp in his arms, he gives your lips one last sweet kiss before standing on his knees. Jungkook smiles at the sight of you, already so fucked out even when he was no where near finished with you. 

He crawled forward, his forehead resting over yours once again. “Did that feel good, sweetie?” You nod shyly, your chests heaving up and down together. With rosy cheeks, you weakly bring your hands up to trace his jaw. “Jungkook?”

“Yes baby?” You melted to his dulcet voice, keeping his loving gaze. It held so much affection, so much adoration for you, you wondered why you never realized it.

“Kiss me, please.”

Jungkook smiles warmly. Without hesitation, he takes your lush, sweet lips in his. It was gentle, a kind of kiss that was so tender it made you warm with reassurance. You were kissing Jungkook—your silly, annoying, bratty, and all the while, lovable best friend of 20 years. It was strange and odd but more than anything, it felt so, unmistakably right.

You took Jungkook by surprise when you deepened the kiss, your hand squeezing his hair. He chuckled softly, pulling himself back momentarily to look into your eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.

Your cheeks heat up, but you fight your timidness as you smile back, “I love you too, Kookie.” 

With that, Jungkook delves back into your lips. A kiss that wasn’t so delicate this time. Rather, untamed and furious, as if Jungkook wanted to show you how much, how long he’s wanted this all this time.

You moaned into him as his hands groped your breasts, fingers twirling your perky nipples. “Jungkookie,” you hold your breath, feeling his clothed cock press against your core. “Fuck me please. Please, I need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” He lowers himself to take a nipple into his mouth. “Tell me how much you want it baby.” He flicked, swirled, and sucked it with his tongue, alternating with the other.

“W-Want it so bad daddy. Please, n-need you to fuck my wet pussy mm, daddy please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, discarding his boxers and...

Oh.

Your breath hitched, blinking at Jungkook’s huge, painfully hardened cock. His tip was pink with sticky, white precum dribbling down his long member. It slightly pretruded up and its veins throbbed as if it’s been aching. And truly, he was. He’s been aching to feel your walls wrap around him for so long. You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to hold himself back for you. How painful it was to—and now, seeing you there, perfect and pretty, so shy and red just for him, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could anymore.

Jungkook needed you. He needed you getting stuffed full of his cock right now.

“I-Its so big...” You gulp as he centers himself in between your legs. “I know baby, so big and ready for your tiny cunt. Can you be a big girl and take it for me baby, hm? Let daddy fuck you until he’s satisfied? Let him use you like the little cock slut you are?”

“Y-yes daddy,” you whimper as he rubs his slick tip against your soaked, smooth cunt, sliding it back and forth. “I’m yours so please, p-please just use me daddy!”

“So good for me baby, such an obedient little slut for daddy, fuck,” Jungkook groans, slipping his tip into your lush walls. You cry as he stretches you all the way out, leaving no room for you to breathe with his tip poking your tummy. Your mind felt dizzy, mouth ajar with drool slipping out even when he hadn’t even moved yet. 

“Shiiit you should see yourself baby. Such a fucking whore for daddy’s cock. Can I move, baby? Or can this tiny little pussy not take my big cock?”

“I-I..mm, please, I can take it! Please fuck me daddy!”

“That’s my girl.” Jungkook starts off painfully slow but just as painfully hard, pushing your knees to your chest. He completely draws himself back so he can see his glistening, twitching tip before driving himself back into your core. “Shit baby, your pussy’s so, fuck, tight.” Jungkook moaned to how your breast bounced up and down every time he shoved himself in.

You were sobbing by the time he quickened his pace, the intense sensation having you light headed. Jungkook loved the way you looked under him, eyes rolled back with buried balls deep inside of you. “You like this baby? Love my cock filling you? Answer me.”

“L-love mm love so m—ah, Kookie..! f-feels so....g-good daddy.”

“Look at you, baby. Can’t even talk with daddy’s cock stuffing you. Such a dumb slut for daddy, so fucking hot baby.” Jungkook moans, juices spurting everywhere and dampening the sheets with every thrust.

“I-I’m not d-dumb..!” You whimpered, fat tears streaming down your eyes. Jungkook smirks, licking his lips.

“Aww, of course you are baby. Just a dumb little cock slut for daddy. Can only think of daddy’s cock, can you?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer, your mind too scrambled with each and every thrust. Jungkook was going so fast, so hard, you felt so full.

“That’s what I thought baby. My sweet girl, fucked dumb for daddy. You only need daddy’s cock, nothing else.” Jungkook positioned your legs over his shoulders, clenching on to them to drill deeper into your tummy.

“Oh, o-oh my god, ah d-daddy...! ‘m your slut...love your dick so m-much...love being stuffed with cock.” Jungkook groaned to your sinful moans, feeling his stomach tighten.

“Just want daddy to cum inside you, don’t you? Want daddy to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, baby?”

“Y-yes, please daddy! Want daddy’s cum so bad! Please give me cum..!” Jungkook shoves his thumb inside of you plush lips, and god, he’s so proud of his work, so proud of you. You were taking his thumb like a good girl, sucking it as if it were his cock.

Jungkook felt his dick throb inside of you, aching for release. He pulls his thumb out with a pop of your wet lips, coated with saliva, and rubs figures over your clit. You scream, gripping onto the sheets. it was so much, too much for you to handle. Your back arches as he abuses your clit and sloppily fucks your hole.

“J-Jung–Jungkook, ah, please! Kookie! I-I’m..!”

“Its okay, baby, its okay. Gonna cum with daddy, hm? You can do it baby, sweet girl, cum for me,” Jungkook cooes, attempting to soothe your nerves, but his words are breathless and ragged. He thrusts in and out one, two, three, four more times until he burries himself deep inside you, spurts of thick cum filling your womb.

Jungkook groans as your pussy clenches around him, and you’re a sobbing, moaning, wet mess as you milk him. “Fuck, my sweet girl. Taking my cum like a big girl baby. So good for daddy, so fucking good for me.” With his praise, you feel yourself release soon after. Jungkook continues to thrust in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.

When he feels you falter in his arms, he pulls out and lays on top of you. Both of you stay like that for awhile, exhausted and in a daze.

With your moist bodies tangled with one another’s, you shut your eyes. You can hear Jungkook’s heartbeat hammer against yours, you short-winded breaths, and the soft whirring sound of the air conditioner.

Moonlight filtered in through your windows, casting a luminescent glow on Jungkook’s skin when he pushes his upper body up, his shoulders resting on either side of you.

Jungkook had spent the whole night cherishing you, telling you how pretty you were, and yet there he was—so ethereal under midnight’s grace. How could he be real?

You bring your hand to caress his cheeks. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

In that moment, so intimate and sacred, His doe, gentle eyes that you could get lost in—that hold all the lost stars of the night sky, tell you all you need to know.

You yawn, stretching your arms high up. “Here’s your order maam,” two porcelain cups of matcha are placed in front of you, steam following it’s every movement. You mumble a thank you, smiling before your eyes drift to the man at the other side of the cross walk.

He’s wearing all black as per usual, revealing the beautiful tattoos that adorned his tan skin. His hair was tousled and he looked sleepy—after all, he’d just gotten out of class—but as soon as the crosswalk lights up with green, you chuckle when he sprints across and into the shop.

The bell that hung by the door didn’t even finish ringing before he runs to you, sweeping you off your chair and into his arms. “Kookie, let me down!” You giggle, but nonetheless wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you baby,” he nuzzles his nose into yours. “You finally published it right? The twenty second chapter?”

a / n : ahhhhh its exactly 3:01am and i have class in the morning which is why the middle ending is super rushed sorry ! i truly wonder why i do this to myself.

this is my first smut fanfiction so i’m not sure how i did , but if anyone ever reads this , i hope you enjoyed ! i dont think im cut out to write smut, i truly did have headaches thinking of synonyms for thrust and dirty talk . i really admire smut writers ,, writing smut is not as easy as it seems !!

anyways , sending love abundance and happiness your ways. you deserve love, you’re worthy of love, and you are love.

stay safe and healthy starlights <3

[greenapricot]

2022 fic year in review

Total number of completed stories: 7

Total word count: 73,146

Fandoms written in: Our Flag Means Death (3), Lewis (2), Shetland (2)

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? More fic by word count, but less by number of fics.

For the past couple of years I'd been fixated of the idea of posting a fic a month (which did help me get through the early part of the pandemic) but it also kept me from writing anything long. So, in 2022, I decided to let the one fic a month thing go and try to write something longer (which led to me accidentally writing the longest thing I've ever written).

What’s your own favorite story of the year? This actually really hard for me to decide because I spent the second half of the year working on one fic, but I think I’ll have to go with The time it takes to get from here to there (Lewis, James/Robbie). I’ve been meaning to write a story that focuses on the Soul of Genius for years and not only did I finally manged but I also think it’s very true to the vibe that the episode deserves.

Did you take any writing risks this year? I wrote the longest thing I’ve ever written which is also a full AU and in a new fandom: Riches and Wonders (OFMD, blackbonnet, modern AU). But I think of it as more of an experiment than a risk.

I didn’t actually intend to write something novel-length when I started and once I realized that was what was happening I’d already written half of it. So then it became a game of can I write something that long in less than a year and could I start posting it before it was 100% complete and still finish it. The answer is yes to all of that and I’m super proud of myself for getting there and sticking with it.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? I said this last year too, but I really do want to finish the sequel to Lead me wild to your dark roads (Lewis/Shetland xover, James goes walking in Shetland). I was working on it pretty steadily before I started the little OFMD modern AU that turned into R&W.

Then, there are those three Lewis casefics that I’ve got mostly plotted that I would like to finish someday, plus I’d like to write some Izzy POV (possibly in the R&W universe). And there are a few other WIPs an new ideas kicking around. But mostly I just want to keep writing things that make me happy.

Most popular story of the year? Riches and Wonder by all possible metrics (which is probably a bit unfair it being in a far bigger fandom than I’ve written in in years and 15 chapters long). It’s actually one of my most popular fics period at this point. Second most popular by kudos is It’s misery loves you and by comments is The time it takes to get from here to there.

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Don’t go dark on me (Shetland, Jimmy/Duncan). Part of my s6 missing scenes series that takes place before the first episode.

Most fun story to write: It's misery loves you (OFMD, blackbonnet, Izzy POV) Writing Izzy watching Ed and Stede reuniting and being absolutely fucking livid about it was so much fun. I think the final count was 38 fucks in a 1900 word fic. I love writing unreliable narrators and his utter impotent rage just made me snicker all the way through. Definitely want to write some more Izzy POV this year. 

Here comes your man (Lewis, James/Robbie) was also very fun, getting James all flustered after seeing old photos of Robbie in his rugby shorts.

Most unintentionally telling story: I hardly ever have a good answer to this question and I feel like I have even less of one than usual for 2022 since more than six months of it was spent working on R&W (which is a blatant romantic comedy with a dash of angst in the middle for flavor). Maybe that’s something telling? Really what I want is a story with a bit of angst and an HEA (this is not at all surprising).

Biggest disappointment: For the past few years I’ve has a goal of finishing one of my three Lewis casefics and I didn’t do that again in 2022. But I did write the longest thing I’ve ever written in 7 months so I feel like that’s a good compromise. Also, the fact that I was able to finish something so long in (for me) in such a short time gives me hope that I will finish one of those casefics one day.

Biggest surprise: Being inspired to write in a new fandom which is a really big fandom and writing the longest fic I’ve even written, and completely without intending to. Also, apparently I didn’t write any Endeavour fic in 2022, so here’s hoping I get inspired by s9.

I don’t know how many people have done this (or something like it) already but I’ll tag: @thankyouforbeingsowrong @bryndeavour @vita-s-west @mcgstarroar @mr-iskender @femmenerdy @philleegirl @swimmingfoxsticks @desperately-human and anyone else who wants to do this.

List of the fics I wrote in 2022 under the cut:

Don't go dark on me - Shetland (1,159 words) Jimmy/Duncan - teen - Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

Jimmy’s brow furrows into that pursed-lipped annoyed look of his, he shakes his head. “You’re just going to leave it to chance? See what happens and then sort out the fallout later?”

“No,” Duncan says, he puts two pairs of wool socks into Jimmy’s suitcase, then a third, trying to keep his tone even. “I’m going to make a deliberate decision to support my partner after the death of his mum.”

Here Comes Your Man - Lewis (4,046 words) James/Robbie - explicit - Robbie Lewis in rugby shorts, thirsty pining, Oral Sex

“Find something interesting?” Lewis asks. He sounds amused.   

“Um.” James’ face goes hot. Every potential quip dries up on the tip of his tongue. He is still holding the rugby photo, the other three photos next to him on the table, clear evidence of his prying. He’s sat in one of Lewis’ dining chairs, but he has no memory of sitting down, and he— “I suppose you could say that,” James says feebly.

The time it takes to get from here to there - Lewis (6,445 words) James/Robbie - teen - The Soul of Genius, Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending

Lewis is right, James does want someone in his life. Need, he’s not so sure about, but he is intimately acquainted with want. Trouble is, that person is sitting across the table from him, oblivious, and telling him to go find someone else.

It's misery loves you - Our Flag Means Death (1,908 words) Ed/Stede - mature - Reunions, Izzy POV, Izzy-typical overuse of the word fuck Pirate-typical violence

“Ed!” someone shouts.

Izzy spins around, following Blackbeard’s gaze. Who the fuck dares?

And fucking, fuck. Walking toward Blackbeard through the smoke and fog like he has any fucking right to be here, as if anyone fucking wants him here, is Stede fucking Bonnet.

A tunnel to crawl through - Our Flag Means Death (2,361 words) Ed/Stede - mature - Reunions, Pirate-typical violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

“Ed?” Stede’s hand touches his arm, his fingers are rough in a way they weren’t before, when Stede passed him teacups and fine fabrics, when they— “Edward, are you okay?”

Blackbeard looks down at Stede’s hand on his arm, at Stede’s face so close to his own, at the dagger he’s still holding to Stede’s throat which he has made no effort to step away from. His hand is shaking, the blade trembling against Stede’s skin. Stede who is here. Stede who is right fucking in front of him, close enough to smell if Blackbeard were to take a breath.

Never quite like this - Shetland (753 words) Jimmy/Duncan - teen - First Kiss

“Hey,” Jimmy says, as if he hasn’t said just that to Duncan a thousand times over the years in a thousand ways; exhausted, exasperated, teasing, content, relieved, fond even. But he’s never said it quite like this. Never with his face so close to Duncan’s it’s barely in focus. Never with that soft look in his eyes.

“Hey,” Duncan says, more of a sigh than a word.

Riches and Wonders - Our Flag Means Death (56,474 words) Ed/Stede - explicit - Modern AU, Mutual Pining, while also spending all their time together, a bit of angst, with a happy ending (in both senses of the word), So Much Softness

“Yes,” Stede says, sitting up a little taller on his bar stool. “I would love a drink.” He holds out his hand. “I’m Stede.”   

“Stede,” Mr Gorgeous Brown Eyes says. “Unusual. I like it.” And Stede likes the way his name sounds on the man’s lips. “I’m Ed.”   

Ed’s handshake is firm, his fingers warm and a bit calloused, the leather of his fingerless gloves smooth and soft. Stede’s eyes are drawn to the tattoos circling his arm as the handshake lingers maybe a bit too long.

[marjansmarwani]

like I was already brave enough to let go

7.2k || Chapter 1/2 || ao3

Enzo understands that leaving New York in the wake of everything is what's best for TK, but that doesn't make it any easier. Watching his stepson pack up all his broken pieces and move across the country hurts him in ways he can't describe, mostly due to the knowledge that there will be a distance between them that has never existed before. So he takes the time to check-in, to keep track of TK. To be there for him, no matter what.

He's just starting to wish that he had picked somewhere other than Austin, because he is quickly discovering he is not built for this level of stress.

After reading @futures-tense’s Enzo fic (that everyone should read, it is phenomenal) I couldn’t get thoughts of him and his relationship with TK out of my head, so naturally I wrote this. It fits into canon evetns and this is only chapter 1 of 2, because while I so have an outline for season 2 events, this was getting long so I figured I’d at least post what I had. 

Massive thanks to @silvarafael and @justaswampdemon for all their help and support with this, you’re both the best!

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

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting when TK opened his apartment door, but the sad shell of the boy Enzo had come to love as his own wasn’t it. 

Or maybe it was, but it hurt all the same. 

“Hey kid,” he said softly, stepping carefully around him and into the apartment. He looked around the small space, taking in all the boxes haphazardly labeled and partially packed. “So, it’s true. Your mom told me but I don’t think I believed her. Never thought I’d see the day TK Strand willingly left New York for Texas, of all places.” 

“Who says it’s willingly,” he said dully as he shut the door behind Enzo. 

Enzo turned and studied him more closely, taking in the downturned eyes and anxious fingers thumbing the seam of his hoodie pocket, “Do you not want to go? Because you can stay here. I’ll talk to your mom, you can stay with us if you…” 

But TK cut him off with a shake of his head, “No,” he said, “I think I need to do this. Dad’s right, I need a fresh start. I can’t...I don’t think I can be here anymore. When I think of staying here, I don’t see a way forward. I think if I stayed here I’d…” he trailed off, but Enzo felt a chill rush through him at the implication of what TK hadn’t said. He tried to meet his eyes but TK looked away, casting his gaze downward and away from Enzo’s sympathetic eyes. 

It hurt him more than he could say to see TK like this. For all his struggles he had always been a happy kid. He had always been someone who found the joy in life where he could and he had always worn his emotions on his sleeve, for better or worse. Seeing him like this and knowing what had happened hurt Enzo in ways he couldn’t fully describe because he didn’t know the right words. All he knew for sure is that this was not the TK he had known and loved for 16 years standing before him. This was a stranger; someone he had only seen once before during a time he had hoped to never revisit. 

He hadn’t asked what happened because he knew enough and he wasn’t about to make the kid revisit it just so he could fill in some blanks. He might not know everything but he knew enough to feel hot anger course through him at the thought of someone breaking that too big heart of his. TK had always been someone who loved fully and completely, and to see that thrown back in his face so spectacularly made Enzo—a typically steady and calm man — strongly consider homicide. 

He had every confidence that Gwyn could get him out of any charges too, but he pushed that thought aside to focus on the scene before him.  

“This isn’t your fault, TK.” 

TK turned away from him, absently picking up some books from the table and dropping them into one of the boxes. “I know I didn’t make Alex cheat,” he says eventually, “but the rest of it? That is completely on me Enzo, no one else.” 

He could sense that the kid had more to say so he let him go, watching from the doorway as he listlessly picked up other odds and ends from around his apartment, tossing them into boxes without any real care as to what the labels on the side said. He knew TK would speak up when he was ready and it was only a few more minutes before he did. 

“Eight years,” he finally said, his rough voice breaking the silence of the half-packed apartment. “Eight fucking years of sobriety, all gone. And that’s all on me. It doesn’t matter what Alex did, I’m the one who made the choice. I am the one who let him have that power over me and…” he broke off, meeting Enzo’s eyes for a moment before looking away and swallowing. “I do need to leave,” he said eventually. “I don’t trust myself to stay here anymore. I don’t know if I’d survive it.” 

Enzo could feel his heart breaking for the kid. He wasn’t a kid anymore — now 26 and an adult — but in Enzo’s eyes sometimes he was still the 10-year-old who met his eyes shyly when Gwyn first introduced them, the 14-year-old who had admitted to him in a terrified whisper that he thought he might like boys, the 19-year-old who had come to him because he wanted to enroll in the fire academy and didn’t know how his mother would take it. The feeling he had now was just like the feelings he had had then. This overwhelming love and desire to protect him from everything bad in the world; from anyone that ever told him he wasn’t enough. 

And just like he had then, he stepped forward, closing the space between them to pull him into a hug. He held him close, pressing his face into his chest and placing a kiss on the top of his head. “You’re making the smart choice then,” he said evenly. “And, as much as I’ll miss you, I’m proud of you for doing what you have to do. You’ve beat this once and you’ll beat it again, I have no doubt about that.” 

He knew he wasn’t imagining it when the body in his arms sagged in relief. It made him clutch him that much tighter as he spoke again, hoping what he was about to say was a given but needing to say it anyway:  “And I will always be here for you, no matter where you live. I’m always just a phone call away, you know that, right?”

TK’s voice was muffled by the material of Enzo’s sweater, but he could still hear the tears in it clear as day, “I do.” 

“Good,” Enzo replied firmly, releasing his grip on TK and stepping back so he could meet his eyes. “Because I will be calling to check-in, that is a promise.” 

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

Watching him leave was bittersweet, but he believed TK when he said it was something he needed to do. He took some solace in the fact that he wouldn’t be alone. Enzo and Owen Strand may have had their differences over the years (many, many differences) but if there was one thing Enzo had never doubted it was the other man’s love for his son. He knew that TK was in good hands, but that didn’t make it any easier. 

He got confirmation they had arrived in Austin in the form of a text that included a picture of a shop selling cowboy hats that simply said, “turns out people actually do where these here. Yes, it looks as ridiculous as it sounds.” It is followed by another two days later that noted the crimes Texas has committed against pizza and though Enzo was still filled with worry, he allowed himself to smile and take it as a sign that he was healing, be it ever so slightly. 

He gave it almost a week before he called. He wanted to hear TK’s voice; to have proof that he really was okay, but he also wanted to give him time. His patience was helped by the fact that Gwyn had spoken to her son but eventually, he decided that he needed to hear from him himself.  

TK answered by the third ring, sounding out of breath. He greeted him warmly, and Enzo could hear the commotion of construction in the background. He raised an eyebrow, “What, did you decide to leave the fire department and become a contractor when I wasn’t looking?” 

This pulled a laugh out of TK and Enzo took a moment to savor the familiar sound. It felt like far too long since he’s last heard it. 

“No. Dad decided we should re-do the firehouse, to give everyone a fresh start. I figured I might as well help out. Besides,” he added with a shrug Enzo could almost hear, “demolition is the far healthier method of coping with feelings, right?” 

“When done with permission,” Enzo quipped in response. “How are you doing kid, has the pizza chased you away yet?” 

TK scoffed, “No, but it was a close thing. Honestly, I really haven’t had that much time to dwell. I’ve been helping with the demo and construction, as well as the candidate interviews and paperwork. I haven’t really taken too much time to think about anything.” 

TK said it matter of factly and Enzo almost moved past it. But he knew TK better than most. “You don’t have to punish yourself, kid,” he told him gently. “All you need to do is heal.”

“I’m not punishing myself,” TK objected, “I’m just...trying to keep busy. To distract myself.” 

TK might very well think that, but Enzo was pretty sure it wasn’t true. But he was willing to move past it, for now. 

“Tell me about the new crew,” he said instead, and smiled as TK launched into stories about a daredevil from Miami and a possible psychic from Chicago. He seemed enthusiastic and Enzo didn’t realize how good it felt to hear that until he had. It was like there was a little bit of life back in his voice and though he knew TK still had a long way to go to make this better, he was relieved to see that he was at least on the way. 

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

For a while, everything seemed to be going great. TK called and texted him from time to time, sharing anecdotes from calls and his new crew, and each time Enzo thinks he can hear just a little bit more of his old self returning to his voice. Sure he complains about one of them, for a while, but that too seems to sort itself out. 

He could tell there is someone new in his life too, even if TK is hedgy about it at best. But Enzo was the first one to know that TK was gay at 14; he knew how to spot the signs. 

“Why won’t you tell me about him?” he asked him one day, voice light and teasing as he stuffed his papers into his bag. “Is there something horribly wrong with him?”

“No,” TK countered emphatically, “there is nothing wrong with him. Absolutely nothing,” he added, almost an unconscious mutter Enzo was not entirely sure he was supposed to hear. 

“So if there is ‘absolutely nothing’ wrong with him, why aren't you going for it?” 

There was silence on the other end as Enzo slid his bag onto his shoulder, patiently waiting the younger man out. 

“You know why,” he eventually said, voice low and sad. Enzo grimaced at how pained his voice sounded and he dropped back into his desk chair with a sigh.

“TK…” he began, but the younger man cut him off firmly. 

“No, Enzo. I...I thought I could. I thought we could have something casual and that I could handle it. But then he wanted more and I hurt him. I don’t want to do that, he doesn’t deserve it. He’s too good to get dragged into my shitshow.” 

“Have you asked him what he wants?” Enzo asked gently. 

The bark of laughter TK gave at that was sharp and harsh, “Yeah, that should go well. Definitely won’t lead to me having to explain to this guy I’ve hooked up with a handful of times all the ways I’m fucked up right now.”

Enzo sighed again, leaning back in his chair, “It won’t always be like this, T. Someday you will be ready to try again, but only if you let yourself consider the possibility. Can you at least promise me that?”

There was silence for a long stretch and Enzo was about to ask him again when TK’s voice finally responded quietly, “Yes.” 

“Good,” Enzo responded firmly, “because no matter what happened, you still deserve happiness. And someday you’ll be ready to let it in again — maybe sooner than you think.” 

The sound of acknowledgment TK made sounded skeptical at best, but Enzo would take it. He knew he was right and he knew that someday TK would realize it too. Maybe even sooner than he thought. 

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

It’s about a week later when Enzo’s phone rings, nearly making him jump as he is pulled abruptly from his stack of midterms. It took him a few moments of shuffling blue books to even locate his phone and when he did he frowned at both the time and the name displayed on the screen. 

“Hey kid,” he said lightly as he answered the phone, “what’s up?” 

He had hoped he was overreacting, that TK was just calling him late because he was on shift and had lost track of the time. He had hoped that maybe the universe was finally giving the kid a break. 

The despair and fear so clear in TK’s voice quickly prove him wrong.  

“Hey Enzo,” he said softly, “fuck, I know it’s late and I’m sorry to bother you, but I just really needed to talk to someone.” 

“You are never a bother,” Enzo told him firmly, capping his pen and setting it down on his desk. “What’s wrong?” 

“I…” TK began before stopping, taking a deep breath and trying again, “I don’t know for sure yet, but I know something is.”

And Enzo believed him. The fear in his voice is so raw Enzo could feel every ounce of it even from a timezone away. “I’m going to need more than that, kid,” he told him gently, leaning back in his chair as he waited TK out. 

“I found something,” TK said eventually, “that I definitely wasn’t supposed to find. And it means something awful. Something I don’t know if I can handle. But it also means he doesn’t trust me,” TK continued, “and somehow that almost feels worse.”

Enzo frowned, pondering all the non-specific details in his mind. He didn’t know all that much about his stepson’s life in Austin, but he knew enough to know that while he was close to his new crew, he wasn’t close enough to be this upset by an omission from one of them. That left him with two possibilities: the mysterious man he was not seeing, or Owen. 

And Enzo knew which option was more likely and it made his heart sink. TK might not be sharing but Ezno knew both the Strand men better than most. If there was something Owen felt strongly enough to keep from his son that TK was this upset about, it wasn’t good news.

“You don’t have to tell me what it is,” he said cautiously, “but is it something about your dad?” 

There was a deep, shuddering breath before TK responded, “Yeah.” 

And Enzo shut his eyes, the hurt and fear in TK’s voice telling him all he needed to know. 

“I don’t know what this is about,” he said eventually, “and you don’t have to tell me. But I do know you, and I know whatever it is you are going to want to be there for him, because that’s who you are. Let him know that, and the rest will follow from there.” 

There was silence again, but Enzo waited TK out. He was familiar with this rhythm; when something was bothering TK he often took his time to make sure he had the words right before he spoke. Over the years Enzo had learned to wait him out knowing that he would get to his point when he was ready.  

He did a few moments later, “I do want to be there for him,” TK agreed, “I just know why he didn’t tell me. He doesn’t think I can handle it — and he’s right,” TK confessed softly, “I don’t know if I can.” 

“You can,” Ezno assured him firmly, “you can do anything you set your mind to. You always have.” 

He let his words sink in for a moment before he added, “And I would talk to your dad before you make any assumptions. Let him know he can rely on you, let him know you want to be there.” 

“You make it sound so easy,” TK said dryly, and Enzo huffed a laugh. 

“In a way it is. It’s just words. It’s the actions behind them that are hard.” 

There was silence again before TK spoke, his voice so quiet Enzo almost missed his next words, “I’m scared.” 

“It’s okay to be scared,” Enzo reminded him, “sometimes fear is the appropriate response.” 

But even as he said it, he could feel his heart breaking. He didn’t know what was going on and while he was sure he would find out soon enough, he couldn’t help but hate whatever it was. TK deserved some time to find himself, to heal and simply exist. He didn’t understand why the universe kept throwing such curveballs at him, but he wished with every fiber of his being it would stop. 

“Sometimes it is,” TK agreed in a tone that made Enzo wonder even more what this was all about. But he didn’t ask; TK would tell him when he was ready. For now he would just be here for him. Sometimes that was all he could do. 

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

As much as Enzo couldn’t help but worry about the younger man, sometimes the updates were a sign that things were getting better for him, slowly but surely. 

One such time came as he and Gwyn were sitting on the couch together, Enzo making a case for watching Jeopardy with Gwyn adamantly refusing. 

“No,” she said again with a firm shake of her head, “it always ends the same way.” 

He shrugged, “I can’t help that you’re too competitive, or that I’m better at it then you are,” he added, giving her a sly grin. 

“We can’t all have PhDs in history,” she said wryly, “some of us need to work for a living.” 

He opened his mouth to fire back a retort but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. “Saved by the bell,” he said instead with a shake of his head as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He frowned when he saw the familiar name on the screen and turned it so Gwyn could see. 

“Hey T,” he said cautiously as he answered, “everything good?” 

There was a lot of noise in the background but he could hear TK’s voice clearly as he answered, “Yeah, I just had a question for you. These people don’t believe me so I need your cred as a Columbia history professor to back me up.” 

Enzo raised an eyebrow at Gwyn, who had leaned closer to hear. She bit her lip against a laugh and he shook his head fondly, “I’ll do what I can. What’s the question?” 

“Hang on,” TK said, “I’m going to put you on speaker.” There was the sound of fumbling before the background noise grew louder and TK’s voice returned. “Okay guys,” he was saying, “this is my stepdad Enzo. He’s a history professor at Columbia and if you don’t believe me maybe you’ll believe him. You want to ask him the question, Paul?” 

“Man, you didn’t need to…” 

“No, this is a point of pride now.” TK objected indignantly and Enzo glanced at Gwyn to see that she had fully pressed a hand against her mouth to stop any laughter from slipping out and giving away her eavesdropping. “Ask him,” TK prompted and there was a sigh before a new voice joined the conversation. 

“Sir, we are so sorry to bother you. TK’s just being a sore loser.” 

“Paul, right?” Enzo asked and got a sound of confirmation in return, “You don’t have to tell me that, I helped raise him.” There was an indignant noise in the background, likely from TK, but Enzo ignored it. “What’s the question?” 

“Who invented the first movie camera?” 

“Louis Le Prince,” Enzo replied without hesitation, unable to suppress a chuckle at the sound of TK’s triumphant ha! In the background. “You guys thought it was Edison, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah,” Paul admitted sheepishly and Enzo chuckled lightly.

“That’s understandable. Edison was the first person to mass market it and the first to get recognized for it, but Le Prince was actually the first. But he mysteriously disappeared in 1890, right before he was set to take a trip to the US to talk about his invention. So he never got a chance to market it.” 

There was silence for a moment before Paul spoke again, “So is there any proof Edison had him killed or…?” 

“No,” Enzo admitted, “but that is one of the theories for sure. Another is his brother did it over the family will. Either way, Edison was not the first.” 

“Huh,” Paul said thoughtfully, “that’s actually fascinating. Dude, I’m sorry for doubting you.” 

“It’s fine,” TK said evenly, “I am more than a pretty face you know.” 

There was a collective snort from the other end of the phone and Enzo glanced at Gwyn to roll his eyes. She shook her head fondly and he returned his attention to the call, “Any other burning history questions or was that it?” 

The background noise lessened as TK took the phone off speaker. “No, that’s it. Thanks, Enzo.” 

“Anytime kid,” he told him, “you know I love to flex my random history facts.” That got another laugh out of TK, but Enzo could still hear the background noise of a group in the background. The sounds of easy comradery set his mind at ease in a way not much else had since TK had left for Texas. “Why don’t you get back to your friends and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay, thanks again.” 

“Don’t mention it. I love you kid.” 

“Love you too. Say hi to mom for me?” 

“You’ve got it.” 

With that the call was over and Enzo was left back in their silent living room, Gwyn looking at him with a soft smile. 

“He sounds happy,” she said after a moment, her voice warm but thick. He nodded. 

“He does. As much as I do hate to admit it, I think going to Austin may have the best thing for him.” 

“You just hate that Owen was right.” 

“And you don’t?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well that’s a given,” she quipped, leaning closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed them as she rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m just glad he’s doing better,” she said softly after a moment, “I’ve been so worried about him.” 

“Me too,” he admitted, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. That sat in silence for a few more moments, each lost in their own thoughts before he spoke again. 

“So is that still a no to Jeopardy or…?”

She swatted at him and he grinned, ducking away from the light hit. Things seemed to have returned to their equilibrium, and that was a relief. 

He just hoped it stayed that way. 

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

When he was wrested from sleep by the shrill sound of his phone ringing cutting through the late-night silence of his bedroom, Enzo groaned. He swore under his breath as he fumbled for the device, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he did. But when he managed to grasp his phone and saw the name on the screen, all thoughts of annoyance fled his mind. Owen Strand calling him was rarely a good sign. Owen Strand calling him at 2 am promised nothing short of disaster. 

“Owen?” he said as he answered, skipping any and all attempts at pleasantries. “Is everything okay?”

He could afford to give the universe the benefit of the doubt, he decided; even if only for a moment. 

When Owen’s reply came it was in a voice Enzo didn’t recognize. It was shaky and uncertain in a way that the other man never was. 

“Enzo, hey. I’m sorry to bother you but Gwyn’s not answering her phone and…” he broke off with a shaky breath, “I really need to talk to her.” 

“She’s in Beijing,” Enzo replied, sitting up and switching on the lamp beside him. “And given the time difference, probably in a meeting.”

He heard Owen swear distantly before he felt fear rise up in him. Owen calling him at 2 in the morning looking for Gwyn and out of sorts only added up to one thing, but Enzo so hoped he was wrong. 

“Owen, did something happen to TK?” he forced himself to ask; the stress of not knowing was worse than anything else. 

He could hear Owen take another breath, deep and shaky and filled with something else Enzo couldn’t identify on a phone call from half a country away. 

“There was an...incident,” Owen said softly, voice still unsteady, “on our last call.”

Enzo’s mind was already spinning, stumbling from one horrible possibility from another. 

“There was a man with dementia who broke into his old house and a homeowner who had a cardiac event and TK broke down the door and….he was shot.” 

Enzo heard the words, he knew he did. But he couldn’t have. If he had heard them that would mean that TK had been shot and that was not something that could be true. His stepson was a firefighter. It was a profession that came with enough risks of its own. He had spent countless days worried and fearful at the thought of rescues gone wrong, of untamable flames and unstable buildings. Never once had he even entertained the thought of a bullet being a risk to watch out for. Bullets were supposed to be the problem of other people with other jobs — not his stepson, who already had so many dangers to face. 

But it was true. The fear and pain in Owen’s voice told him it was true. There was an edge of both hysteria and despair in his words and that more than anything scared Enzo more than he could say.

“Where?” was the first coherent thought he could form. 

“Just below his left shoulder” Owen repeated mechanically. “His...his lung collapsed before we were even out of the hallway. Enzo, he couldn’t breathe. He kept trying but he couldn’t and there was so much blood....” Owen trailed off and Enzo could hear the unmistakable sound of a sob in the background even as his own hands trembled and his eyes watered. 

“Is he…” he started, but he couldn’t make himself say the words. He couldn’t speak the awful possibility into existence. 

“He’s headed to surgery,” Owen replied. “I don’t know anything more than that, we only got here about 15 minutes ago. I just...I just hope it was fast enough.” 

There was silence then as the two men allowed the same fear to consume them from opposite ends of the country. Enzo felt a morbid camaraderie with the other man in that moment. In the 16 years they had known each other it was safe to say that they had never exactly gotten along. They had always been polite and cordial for the sake of Gwyn, TK, and family gatherings but they were too different in too many ways that mattered to ever truly be friends. They had only ever agreed on one thing, and now that was the thing that tied them together — loving TK.  

“You got him there as fast as you could Owen,” Enzo assured him without hesitation because there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it wasn’t true. “You did everything you could. Any chance he has is because of you.” 

“I think the credit lays more with the paramedics,” Owen objected, “but I appreciate the effort all the same.” 

Enzo opened his mouth again, not quite sure what he was going to say but feeling the overwhelming need to say something, but he was interrupted before he got the chance to figure it out. 

There was a noise on the other end followed by the sound of shuffling as Owen attended to whatever it was. When his voice returned, it was tight. 

“That’s Gwyn on the other line, I’ve gotta take it. But listen, Enzo…”

But Enzo just shook his head, “Don’t worry about it Owen, talk to her. Just, keep me updated?” 

“Of course,” he replied without hesitation, “as soon as I know anything.” 

Then with another hurried goodbye, the call was over and Enzo was left in the dark and quiet bedroom, alone. It wasn’t long before the tears he had felt threatening began to fall in earnest as he wrapped his mind around this reality and allowed himself to dwell on it. There was a chance — a very real and terrifying chance — that they could lose TK. That Gwyn and Owen could lose the son they had brought into this world and loved for 26 years. That Enzo could lose one of the people he loved the most. The thought of TK not existing anymore was too horrible to dwell on. 

Enzo was a religious man. He had been raised by a small Jewish family in a large community and his faith had been something that he had always had. It had seen him through so much. But now, with this, he had to wonder. It didn’t make sense that TK — his wonderful, caring stepson who had dedicated his life to helping people — should have to suffer so much in such a short time on earth. It went against everything he had ever believed about putting good into the world. Why should TK — who had never done anything to hurt anyone — have to suffer so? Why should he? He didn’t want to know what life without TK looked like. 

More than anything, he hated that he might find out. 

When Gwyn called him a few minutes later he pushed his own tears aside. He murmured soft reassurances as she sobbed in a quiet corner of a Beijing office building, consumed with fear and grief a world away from her child who was slipping further and further from them with every passing moment. He gave her empty platitudes, reassured her the best he could. 

But all the while the fear was drilling a hole straight through his chest. This, he decided, was the worst fear he had ever felt. 

The worst part was there was nothing he could do but wait, and hope desperately for the best. 

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

The next several days were some of the longest of Enzo’s life. Each day he woke up and went about the day. Each day he kept his phone volume on, not wanting to miss any news either way. Each day an update came from Owen and each day it was the same: no change. 

He debated going out to Austin — he had been halfway through buying a ticket online half a dozen times — but each time he stopped himself. Logically he knew that being there wouldn’t change anything. He would still be waiting, he’d just be waiting there. He told himself he was needed here, that he couldn’t just pick up and go across the country with no warning. It was the end of the semester and he had students to help to finish the course or their dissertation. He told himself staying was the responsible option, but he knew that it was largely just a distraction. But he would take any distraction he could get and so he pushed the guilt of not being there to the side

He taught his classes, he went through the motions. He fielded calls from Gwyn, still stuck in China and frantic with worry. Each day he reassured her; reminded her that TK was strong, young, and healthy. Above all that, he reminded her, he was stubborn. No bullet or coma was going to take him from them before he was ready. 

Of course there was the private fear, the one he didn’t want to share, that he didn’t want to hang on anyone else. The one he was afraid to say out loud. 

It was the thought that maybe, after everything, that was exactly what he did want. That maybe this was an out and that maybe, he would take it. That maybe he didn’t want to be alive anymore. 

But that was a possibility too horrible to accept. Maybe it was selfish, but Enzo knew that even if that was the case, he wasn’t ready. He doubted he ever would be, but he certainly wasn’t now. He knew both Gwyn and Owen would agree. No time was a good time to lose your child — step or otherwise — but now, after this — after everything — was not the time. 

So he waited, and hoped. 

Time seemed to blend together and before he knew it one day had become two, which had stretched into four. Each moment passed the same way — tensely, with no news. 

He knew he had been distracted too — keeping his ringer on during class and checking in throughout his lectures and office hours. He had apologized to his classes after the second telemarketer had caused him to drop everything and lunge for his phone, citing a family emergency and word had slowly gotten around. Soon it wasn’t just him hoping for the best, but most of the Columbia history department as well. Their well wishes were touching, but nothing short of good news was going to make him feel any better. 

So when his phone did finally ring on a Thursday afternoon, 5 days after the fateful call, he picked it up with trepidation. The name on the screen sent his heart racing and he nearly dropped his phone in his haste to answer it. 

“Owen?” he asked tersely, “Any updates?”   

Because since that night they hadn’t spoken. All updates had come in the form of texts and the thought of Owen finally having something to tell him one way or the other simultaneously thrilled him and nearly froze him with fear. 

But it wasn’t Owen’s voice that answered. 

“Hey Enzo,” TK said, the sound of his voice rushing through Enzo’s body like a current of electricity. He sank back into his seat with a wobbly laugh, feeling nearly a week's worth of tension fall away as he listened to the miraculous sound of TK breathing on the other end of the phone. 

“Hey kid,” he said warmly. “You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. How are you feeling?” 

“Okay,” he answered, “I really don’t feel too bad at all. A little sore, a little tired, but overall not bad.” 

“I hear getting shot will do that to you,” Enzo retorted drily before sighing and running a weary hand down his face. “You scared the shit out of me, TK,” he admitted. 

“Sorry,” TK replied softly, “I didn’t mean to worry anyone.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Enzo rushed to reassure him, “I know you didn’t ask for this to happen but...shit TK, I am not built for this. Do you think you could avoid getting shot in the future, for my sanity at the very least?” 

“I’ll try,” TK responded with a chuckle, “I don’t remember most of it but I don’t think it’s anything I want to revisit.”  

“No, I’d imagine not,” Enzo retorted wryly. They lapsed into a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts and taking comfort from the presence of the other even if it was only over a phone call from half a country away. “So,” he finally said, leaning into normal conversation for the sake of normalcy, “is your dad driving you nuts yet?” 

“Yes,” TK responded emphatically, “he has been hovering non-stop, and he brought a date.” 

Enzo could hear indignant sputtering in the background and Owen muttering something about him not bringing a date, that his date had simply come to visit him to see how he was doing and, maybe because of all the fear and stress of the past week, Enzo could only laugh. 

“That sounds like your dad,” he retorted once he caught his breath, “and I wouldn’t count on that changing anytime soon.” 

“She seemed cool at least,” TK allowed, voice teasing, “I don’t know why he was trying to keep her a secret.”

“Excuse you,” Owen’s voice objected from the background, “I am not the one who had a hot cop sitting by my bedside. You don’t get to talk about keeping secrets.”

“Dad,” TK groaned and Enzo’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh, so the mystery man is a cop,” he teased, “and the plot thickens.” 

Now it was TK’s turn to splutter, “Nope, we are not doing this. That is more than enough from both of you,” he declared and Enzo could hear Owen chuckling at his son’s indignation from the background. It was a slice of normal that he had feared he’d never get again. To be sitting here hearing TK’s voice, teasing him about something so simple as the guy he had a crush on seemed like a miracle and Enzo was grateful for it.

Everything was normal again, at long last. 

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

Sometimes he thinks that turning on news alerts for Austin was the worst decision he had ever made. 

It seemed practical, at the time. An easy way to stay in the know, to have an idea of what kind of calls TK may have seen on any given day. But now he was frozen in the middle of the hallway after one of his classes staring at a notification about a solar storm that had blasted through Austin, leaving devastation in its wake; regretting every decision that led him to this point. 

He knew TK was still on medical leave. He knew that he should be home and resting after only being released from the hospital two days before. But he also knew his stepson and knew that whenever there was trouble, TK was usually not too far behind. 

It was with that thought in his mind that he stepped out out the middle of the hallway and leaned against the wall as he waited anxiously for the call to connect. The sound of a pleasant robotic voice informing him that his call could not be completed filled him with dread, but he forced himself to take a breath. It didn’t mean anything. The grid was likely overloaded right now; Enzo couldn’t say he knew for sure what kind of damage a solar storm could do but he was willing to guess that it wasn’t great for the electronic infrastructure. 

Left with no other options he went on about his day, the familiar anxiety he had only recently shed slipping back over him like a worn winter coat. He tried calling a few more times, trying to ignore how the dread in his gut grew each and every time the call didn’t go through. He resisted the urge to ask one of his science colleagues to explain the specifics of a solar storm; reasoning that dealing with his own uncertainty would be far kinder than having confirmed facts. At least this way, he decided, he could tell himself he was overreacting. 

It was far too many hours before his phone rang; an unfamiliar number appearing on his lock screen. He frowned at it but swiped to answer. He did list his cell number on all of his course syllabi, but for the most part his students stuck to his campus email, or — in desperate times — text. 

“Dr. Cohen,” he answered, mentally placing bets as to whether it was actually a student or a robot trying to inform him about the extended warranty of the car he didn’t own.

To his immense relief, it was neither. Instead, a familiar voice answered, sending a rush of relief through him at the sound, “Hey, Enzo, it’s me.” 

“TK,” he breathed, setting down the paper he had been reading and closing his eyes as he took a deep breath. “Are you okay?” 

“More or less,” he answered sheepishly and Enzo was about to push for more than that when he caught the distinct sound of a hospital intercom in the background. 

“Tyler Kennedy Strand, are you in the hospital again?” he demanded and he heard a weary sigh from the other end before a quiet “yeah” was muttered. 

“It’s not a big deal though,” TK rushed to explain, “I’m fine. I just pulled my stitches.” 

There was another voice in the background that Enzo didn’t recognize and could barely hear, but what he could hear made it clear that the other voice was not impressed either. 

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” TK demanded, and Enzo was not entirely sure who he was speaking to, “Let her drown in a burning bus?” 

“You just got out of the hospital!” Enzo objected when he could form words again, “What were you doing somewhere where there was a burning bus?!” 

“We just went out for boba,” TK retorted, “I didn’t expect there to be a solar storm that caused a bus accident.” 

And Enzo forced himself to take a deep breath because that was fair, he supposed. There was no way anyone could control anything like that. Still…

“The next time you move we’re going to need to do some research,” he declared. “Because if it is anywhere as chaotic as Austin, I’m going to have to object.” 

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” TK assured him, “I think I’ll be in Austin for a while.” 

There was a smile in his voice and Enzo somehow had the feeling he was intruding on something, even though TK had been the one to call him. 

“What number are you calling me from?” he asked, testing his theory. 

“I borrowed Carlos’s phone,” TK answered in a voice that said he knew what was coming and he hoped it would at least be quick. 

“Oh,” Enzo replied, “and Carlos wouldn’t happen to be the name of a certain ‘hot cop’ your father mentioned, aka the mystery man I have been trying to get you to tell me about for months?”

“Yes.”

“And when you say ‘we’ were trying to get boba…” 

“Enzo…”  

“And he wouldn’t happen to be with you right now, would he?” 

“Are you done?” TK demanded, and Enzo only laughed. 

“Not nearly, kid; I’m just getting started.” 

And despite TK’s muttering, Enzo could tell that he sounded happier than he had heard him sound in ages. He marveled at the fact that somehow, despite everything, TK had managed to find the happiness and peace he had hoped for him ever since he left New York all those months ago. Between the disasters he had managed to take his broken pieces and fit them back together, maybe even stronger than they had been before. 

It was all he had ever wanted for him, and he was relieved beyond belief that he had found it. 

“You know, this means I’m going to have to come down there soon,” he said instead, “I’ve got to meet this mystery man for myself.” 

He could practically hear TK rolling his eyes, but his voice was impossibly warm when he assured him, “You’ll like him, Enzo.” 

“Do you like him?” he asked.

“Yeah,” TK responded without a moment’s hesitation, “I do.” 

“Then I already do,” he assured him. 

If this Carlos had anything to do with the happiness he could finally hear returned to his stepson’s voice, he couldn’t do anything but. 

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Fathering a Phantom ch2

I just wanna Talk, I swear

Here we have the chapter 2 for that fic from earlier! Once again, here ya go @five-rivers @floralflowerpower and @uwuplasmiusuwu

“Cole I’m going to murder someone,” was the first thing that Toby said to his husband upon arriving once more in their temporary sanctuary. Cole paused mid throw of his javelin, electric sparks crackling up the polearm, and turned to look at his husband. Toby’s wings were ablaze, his nails sharpened into claws, and his eyes a colorful storm, as though he couldn’t decide what to turn into for maximum lethality. Cole set down his javelin and wrapped around Toby in a hug.

“Who are you planning to murder, sunshine? And should I join in? I haven’t gotten into a good fight since we got here, which is a shame.” Cole coalesced from a mass of clouds into something a bit closer to his original body when Toby relaxed in his embrace, running his fingers through shimmering feathers made of embers. “You really do look like a star like this, by the way.”

“There was, I think, a war forged around here who fired a bunch of rockets at a child! You know that liminal kid I told you about?”

“Oh right, we’re rare in this realm, huh?” Cole’s face scrunched up in confusion and he arched a brow. “I thought the liminal around here beat up the tyrant ruling the place when he woke up?”

“I didn’t exactly ask about what must’ve sucked when I half blew up the metalhead.” Toby flew over to the couch and flopped face first into it. “Now I gotta track him down.”

“Why only half? Sounds like someone you’d take out in one go if you had the drop on em.”

“Well, do you wanna traumatize a kid of unknown cultural origins? He’s so small, and his friends were clearly still living humans. I dunno if he’s seen someone die before, let alone a ghost getting Ended. If I recall, committing murder is a bad way to start a friendship with a child.”

Cole snorted and gave Toby a pat on the shoulder. “Alright, fair, Sildar didn’t like me much after that rescue. But hey, now you can put that on your to do list! Murder, the answer to most problems.” Toby laughed, phasing through the couch when Cole sat on him. “There he is, my giggly celestial chandelier.”

“Do you even remember what a chandelier is? I know you broke like three of them over someone’s head, but I forget whose head.” Toby put out the flames in his feathers and stretched, satisfied when his spine popped a few times. “It’s nice to still be able to do that.”

“I’ll be honest, being a cloud has made the sound of your joints popping kinda gross to me. It sounds like you’ve still got a flesh and blood body.” Cole sat up, scratching his head. “Do you still have a humanoid body? With like, meat and bones and stuff?”

“Probably, yeah. We’ll see, cause if so that’ll come in handy with helping out this liminal kid. Said his name is Danny Phantom.” Toby paused, the feeling of his feather being torn an odd and upsetting one. “Speaking of whom, I should go meet up with them. Think you can find this ‘Skulker’ guy while I educate some kids?”

Cole kissed Toby on the cheek and gave him a thumbs up. “Will do! I can’t promise there’ll be much left of him afterward though, I’m not a fan of idiots who attack kids.” Toby smiled and in a flash of light and beat of wings, he was gone. Cole nodded to himself and grabbed his maul, crackling with electric arcs, and opened up the door to their temporary Sanctuary. “Now then, who the fuck is Skulker?”

After having a small debate about where they couldn’t go and why, team Phantom finally ended up at the indoor roller rink that was partially destroyed by a giant ghost crab a while ago, and sat down at a table that Danny cleared of debris with an ectoblast or three. “Ok guys, I think this is a good enough place to call him up.”

“Are we sure it’s a good idea to call him at all?” Sam held up the feather she’d kept in her pocket, turning it about to watch the golden flame dance. “He took down Skulker pretty fast and it usually takes you a good half hour to do that, Danny.”

“Skulker specializes in attacking Danny is all, Sam. We’ve got the weapons to handle pretty much any ghost we normally deal with, and Danny took down the king of ghosts. I’m pretty sure he can handle anyone else.”

“Plus, Toby wrecked Skulker pretty bad. If he wanted to fight, I’m pretty sure he would’ve started a fight.” Danny condensed his ectoblasts into one ball of ectoplasma and stretched it out into a pole. “Imagine all the cool stuff he could show us!”

“Alright, if you say so.” Sam snapped the feather in half, surprised by how easy it was to do, and grabbed her ecto-pistol. For a moment, there was silence. Then the sound of wingbeats filled the room and Toby appeared above the rink as though landing from a long flight.

“That’s a spell I’m not used to casting frequently in a day. Heyo kids!” Toby waved, tucking his wings by his sides while walking closer. “Sorry for the delay, I was talking to my husband. So, names again just to be sure: Sam, Tucker, and Danny, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. What do you mean spell, exactly? Do ghosts have magic ontop of the other ghost powers now?” Tucker spun the lipstick laser around in his fingers, remembering Desiree’s magic and Freakshow’s staff.

“Anyone who can do magic keeps the ability in death, usually. I’m not dead though, I’m Deathless.” He spread his wings and spun around, thumbs pointing to his chest. “I was born awesome like this, and so was Cole. But, based on your faces you weren’t born like this?”

“No,” Sam said, gesturing at Danny. “This is a recent thing, it’s been since about…” Sam paused, her gaze landing on the wall behind Toby. “March of last year, so 14 months.”

“Yeah, god, we’ve been doing this for over a year now, haven’t we?” Tucker, who had held up a camera to record everything Toby was saying, slumped a bit in his seat and sighed. “Feels like it’s been like this forever and like it happened yesterday.”

Toby stared at them all like they’d each grown extra limbs in odd places – Danny even checked to make sure he hadn’t done that while feeling both old and young at the same time due to how little time had actually passed – before zipping over to Danny and holding his hands just over the teen’s face. “Oh my gods, you’re a baby.”

“I am a teenager, thank you.” Danny gently pulled Toby’s hands away from his face, a brow raised. “What, is 14 infantile to angels, feather man?”

“You’re only 14 months dead, Danny, that makes you a baby ghost.” Sam snorted and Tucker covered his mouth to try and hide his laughter. A snap of Toby’s fingers and flowers began growing in Tucker’s hat, and seeds appeared above Sam, growing into flowers as they fell all over her. “If you’ve had regular interactions with that metal head, no wonder your aura’s all aggro.”

“Skulker’s not exactly the worst of the ghosts we’ve had to fight over the months,” Danny said.

“Oh yeah, that’d have to be either Walker, Spectra, or Vlad. It’s really a toss up between Spectra and Vlad, if you ask me.”

“Vlad wants to kill Danny’s dad because he sees his mom as a trophy that was stolen from him, while Spectra tried to kill Jazz just to depress an entire school so she could feed on the misery to look young.” Sam brushed away the flowers and weighed two in her hands. “Yeah, those around the same level of grossly evil.”

Toby’s wings ignited at some point while Sam was talking, and the sunlight streaming in from the hole in the roof grew somewhat brighter. He reached into a bag he had strapped to his waist and pulled out a book and a pen, his smile all teeth. “Tell me, please, a list of all the adult ghosts who have attacked you children? I’d like to have a discussion with each of them.”

“If we give you their names,” Danny said before Tucker could answer, “do you promise not to go slaughtering them all? I don’t need to know ghostly body language at all to know that flaming wings come from a place of anger and imminent violence.”

“When did you read a thesaurus, Danny?”

“Sam, I’m insulted: I know tri-syllabic words. I can even say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“I promise not to slaughter all of the ghosts you inform me hurt you in the past few months, yes. Names?” When Tucker listed off names, Toby wrote them down with an inhuman speed, and Danny exchanged a look with Sam, worried about how exactly that deal might be loopholed around. “Right,” Toby chirped while slamming his book shut, “I’m here to answer some questions of yours, not just ramble about myself and assemble a… list of people to talk to. Got any?”

“So many that I don’t even know where to start.”