#If anything they kind of downplayed how brutal he could be.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dead beat down

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[matamorose]

I've tried to kickstart a TP rewatch a few times recently, and I've ended up watching the pilot like thrice in a month. Something that's really been standing out to me is the way that Sarah Palmer is straight up abandoned right out the gate.

Mrs. Briggs isn't necessarily dismissive of her when she calls looking for Laura, but she very much downplays how worried Sarah is. This, to be fair, is a normal response-- she had no reason to think that being with Bobby or Leland wasn't the most likely answer, and she was being kind.

But still, the first conversation Sarah has, and it's someone telling her to relax, that nothing is wrong while, elsewhere, her daughter's corpse is being rolled over.

When they discover that it's Laura on the beach, neither Harry nor Doc Hayward-- men who know the family well-- express any sentiment about her mother. This could make sense, if they're keeping it brisk and professional and trying to hold it together. But there are plenty of asides about Laura, or other deaths occurring, or gently scolding Andy. But the man who delivered Laura doesn't say even a TV-stereotype "God, her poor mother!"

(And, really, the big takeaway there is that these guys aren't prepared for a murder investigation, much less that of poor Laura)

Neither of these points is particularly heavy-handed, and one can certainly point to good reasons for them, but then they go get Leland. No officer is sent to the Palmer house. Harry doesn't tell Lucy to call Sarah, or even make an offer to Leland to retrieve her. She's the first one to look for Laura, and is briskly clipped out of the developments.

She doesn't even get to hear it proper, as Leland muffles the phone in his chest. (And I think that there's something there: Sarah knows but doesn't know, and actively has her line to the truth of it muffled in his sweater. Leland hides the receiver and makes a scene: Sarah may as well not exist, except for her tinny, distant pleas.)

The last we see of Sarah for a long while is her screaming, eyes closed and a hand pressed to her head. Phone cord dangling pointlessly down to the floor-- nobody on the other side of it was telling her anything anyway.

The next time we see her is when Harry and company need something from her. She's violently, physically grieving and then they drug her up so they can ask her questions. Leland gets a hug and several expressions of sympathy, and Sarah is left for hours wailing, driving herself mad, alone in that house with the fan while her daughter's murderer identifies the body, and receives comfort and compassion. Sarah gets a needle.

I don't think that they were making too splashy of a point with it, but the return absolutely hammers in that Sarah has been left to rot in her grief-- I think that even in the pilot, there was a certain intentionality to how she's sidelined and only picked back up when the cops need to question her, or a point needs to be made with Donna/Maddy.

Tremendous attention is paid to Leland and his grief, his violence, his antics, and very little is paid to Sarah. After her husband is revealed to have raped and murdered their daughter, he kills himself brutally: the funeral scene after may as well have come from a different show for how little they mention it.

There's a lot more to be said-- and that has been said--of Sarah as a representation of passive evil/enablement/self-delusion, but the way that she's abandoned with so little fanfare has really stuck with me of late. It feels very much intentional-- she can scream, right, mothers do that, but what else is she going to do? Throw herself into the open grave too?

Trick question: she is the open grave.

[wvrlock]

How would fallahan try to charm/change their behavior in front of each "canon" companion? In what ways would they try to appeal to each? Are they a good judge of character in the ways they try to appeal to people? How successful are they, usually?

I always joke that he has better deception than insight so he can lie to himself, but the fact is that he also has very high insight, numerically and factually. He doesn't include his own feats in his songs all that much (for his own safety, but he'd gladly brag about them) but he is so extraordinarily good at reading people that he was the one to orchestrate Zariel's redemption, he gave the paladin the words he had to say to move her. He also persuaded Tiamat's champions to help them out, and Bel to aid them in their search for Zariel's sword.

He asks himself "what are they feeling?", "what do I have that they need?", "what is their weakness?", and changes his words and behavior depending on the answers. He can improvise, but ideally he would gather the information he needs before an encounter, rather than during.

It usually works if he wants it to work, and even if he encounters someone who employs similar techniques he likes playing the "I know that you know" card, confidently displaying false friendliness and openness. And he doesn't mind downplaying himself to flatter the other party, which is precisely why he excelled at dealing with devils. At worst, he doesn't come off as trying to deceive, just trying to please.

"If he wants it to work" essentially means that he doesn't bother trying if he doesn't have something to gain, he'll just show his usual arrogant, playful personality that some people find fun and others irritating.

(Companions under the cut because boy this got LONG)

He likes Astarion, and honestly he wouldn't need to change a thing to be liked back. They share a sense of humor, many of their tastes and their signature sassy personalities. He would be 100% genuine to him.

She doesn't care much for Shadowheart, or so he says. There's this running gag about how Fallahan always ends up surrounded by very religious people being an agnostic himself, and he would be in his most brutally honest behavior about her religious trauma, but he doesn't really need anything from her.

Same goes for Gale... Fallahan is always intrigued by things he doesn't know and the arcane, and would love to have someone ramble about it for hours, but something in his personality kinda irks him. He's a romantic nerd, but like... the wrong kind of romantic, and the wrong kind of nerd. He'll bite his tongue on his opinions about the whole Mystra situation because he KNOWS he'd come off as the asshole he deep down still is.

Now, Wyll. Wyll IS the right kind of romantic nerd. Fallahan would be soooo nice and charming. He likes heroes, he likes stories, he likes drama, he could listen to him talk forever. He would share opinions on literature they both enjoy, and write about him, and be playful and flirty. I think he would totally try to get into his bed (Fal does have a habit of collecting lovers as 'trophies') while masterfully avoiding every one of Wyll's romantic advances, if they happen. He's interested in flings, not romance (that's what he says).

Lae'zel is. Uh. She's too straightforward to fall or even care about his charms. Not only he wouldn't try but he would keep a very careful distance.

Same goes for Minthara, who's even worse because she's used to sycophantic diplomats, she would be unimpressed and unamused. Not to mention that he's a very high elvish elf, and the kind of arrogant male she would despise. Nope. Not happening.

Halsin is... nice, but the most they'll have in common is that in some verses Fal's partner (@stagsworn) and he would be friends. But that's the extent of it. He doesn't need any tree-hugging dilf to psychoanalyze him, thank you very much.

Jaehira is just. No.

Minsc is the wrong kind of brute. His opinion on big dumb men is that they're either fuckable, or not worth his time. He'd be sassy to him, but also very careful not to anger him, which means holding his tongue most of the time.

Karlach is fine. Kind of a slow-burn thing because he'd take longer to understand where she's coming from, but he'd be genuine... genuinely nice. Not because he doesn't want to get on her bad side, but because he does find her quite entertaining.

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 18

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 18 - This Venerable One has Begged You Before

Tianwen has a deadly killing move. The name was very simple, just one word: "Wind". Once activated, no piece of armor in the surrounding area could withstand it.

Mo Ran was naturally acquainted with the power of "Wind". He also knew Chu Wanning's strength so there was no need to worry. He glanced at the pale man whose robe was dyed red with blood. He threw away the rest of his talismans to buy Chu Wanning some time, then flew away to the edge of the fight. He grabbed Shi Mei with one hand, Madam Chen with the other, and took two unconscious people, hiding a far distance away.

Chu Wanning endured the severe pain and reluctantly moved his other. Suddenly, Tianwen burst out with a dazzling golden light, and Chu Wanning violently jerked it back.

The Master of Ceremonies Ghost went berserk. It jumped up and rushed towards Chu Wanning with a distorted face.

Chu Wanning's robe waved like a flame in a violent wind, billowing and flying. His eyebrows were furious, half of his shoulders soaked in blood. He quickly raised his hand, Tianwen's golden light became more and more intense then it took off by Chu Wanning's flying spin.

The willow vine stretched for several tens of feet and whirled into a golden spiral. Like a whirlpool, it engulfed the surrounding ghosts, dead bodies, golden children, and the roaring and twisting Master of Ceremonies Ghost into the center of "Wind". The fierce image that was created by Tianwen was then shattered in an instant!!!

"Wind" smashed and destroyed. Not even the surrounding grass and trees, being ripped up from the ground, were spared.

The huge storm centered around Chu Wanning let out a dazzling golden light. The sky grew dark, covered by flying sand and rocks. Whether it was a coffin or the dead, they were like grass fluttering in the wind.

She was sucked in and was cut up by the rapidly spinning Tianwen.

Sliced into tens of thousands pieces of debris. . .

When everything calmed down, there was no grass around Chu Wanning, a desolate and empty wasteland.

Other than him standing alone in his bright, auspicious clothes that resembled a blooming red lotus and a begonia blossom, there was only a ground covered in crushed white bones, and the horrible hissing of Tianwen's golden light.

From this point of view, Chu Wanning did the world a favour pumping out so many disciples.

Based on his performance today, if he wanted to, even if every disciple on Life-Death Peak were defeated, it wasn't impossible for him to keep fighting. . .

The golden light faded away.

Tianwen turned into flickering dots like stars, blending into Chu Wanning's palm.

He breathed a deep breath and frowned. Enduring the sharp pain in his shoulder, he slowly walked towards his disciples in the distance.

"How's Shi Mei?"

Coming to their side, Chu Wanning pushed through and asked.

The ink burned down to look at the unconscious beauty in his arms. He still wasn't awake, his breathing was weak, and his cheeks felt cold to the touch. This scene was too familiar, it was a nightmare that Mo Ran couldn't get rid of.

As Shi Mei was lying in his arms like this, as time went on, he wasn't breathing anymore. . .

Chu Wanning placed his hands on Madam Chen's and Shi Mei's necks. He mumbled out: "Hmm? How could the poisoning be so deep?"

Mo Ran's head snapped up: "Poison? Didn't you say they were okay? Didn't you say that they were just being compelled?"

Chu Wanning frowned: "The Master of Ceremonies Ghost relied on the fragrance powder to compel them. That was a kind of poison. I thought it was only superficial, but I didn't expect the poison to be this severe."

". . ."

"Send them back to Chen's house first." Chu Wanning said, "It's not difficult to expel the poison. It's fine as long as they don't die."

His voice was cold and unwavering. Although Chu Wanning normally spoke like this, at this moment, it really made people feel like he was uncaring and downplaying things.

Mo Ran was brought back to that year of heavy snow. He was knelt in the snow and in his arms was Shi Mei whose life was slipping away. With tears on his face, he hoarsely begged Chu Wanning to turn his head, look at his disciple, and pleaded for him to raise his hand to save his disciple's life.

But what did Chu Wanning say back then?

It was also in such a light and calm tone of voice.

Just like that, rejecting Mo Ran the one time he knelt down and begged.

In the heavy snow, the person in his arms gradually became as cold as the snow falling on his shoulders and eyelashes.

That day, Chu Wanning killed two disciples with his own hands.

One was Shi Mingjing, who he could have saved but didn't.

One was Mo Weiyu, kneeling in the snow mourning the death of his heart.

There was a sudden panic in his heart, a brutality, a snake-like flow of resentment, rage and viciousness.

There was a moment when he suddenly wanted to rise up and strangle Chu Wanning. Wanted to shed his kind and pleasant disguise, revealing the hideousness of a malevolent ghost. Like a fierce ghost from a previous life, it viciously tore into him, questioning him and demanding his life.

He claimed the lives of the two helpless disciples in that snowfield.

But when his eyes flicked up, they suddenly fell on Chu Wanning's blood-covered shoulder.

The beast's anger was suddenly cut off.

He didn't say another word, just stared at Chu Wanning's face with poorly-masked hateful eyes. Chu Wanning didn't notice. After a while, he lowered his head again and stared at Shi Mei's haggard face.

His mind gradually went blank.

If something happened to Shi Mei this time, then. . .

"Cough cough cough!!"

The person in his arms abruptly coughed. Mo Ran was stunned and his heart trembled. . . Shi Mei slowly opened his eyes, and his voice was extremely hoarse and weak.

"A-. . . Ran. . .?"

"Yes! It's me!" In his ecstasy, the haze disappeared. Mo Ran's eyes widened. The palms of his hands were pressed against Shi Mei's cool cheeks, and his shining eyes trembled. "Shi Mei, how do you feel? Does anything hurt? "

Shi Mei smiled lightly, his eyebrows still. He turned his head, and looked around: ". . . How are we here. . . How did I faint. . . Ah! Shizun. . . cough cough, this disciple is incompetent. . . this disciple. . ."

"Don't talk," Chu Wanning said.

He gave Shi Mei a pill: "Since you're awake, take this poison dispersing pill. Don't swallow it right away."

Shi Mei took the medicine then was suddenly taken aback, his colourless face appearing even more transparent: "Shizun, how did you get hurt? You're covered in blood. . ."

Chu Wanning still had that faint, calm, irritating voice: "It's nothing."

He got up and glanced at Mo Ran.

"You, find a way to bring both of them back to the Chen's residence."

When Shi Mei woke up, the gloom that was deep in his heart suddenly vanished. He nodded quickly: "Okay!"

"I'll go first. I have something to ask the Chen family."

Chu Wanning said and turned to leave. Facing the vast darkness of the night, the fields covered in decay, he finally couldn't supress a twitch in his eyebrow, revealing a painful expression.

The entire shoulder was pierced by five fingers, the tendons and veins were torn apart, and the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws even pierced the bones deep in his flesh and blood. No matter how he pretended to endure it calmly, no matter how he tried to stave the bleeding, he was still be a human being.

It still hurt. . .

But so what if it hurts.

He walked forward one foot after another, the hem of the wedding dress flying around.

For so many years, people respected and feared him, but no one has dared stand by his side. No one cares about him. He has long been used to it.

Yuheng of the Night Sky, the Beidou Immortal.

No one liked him. No one cared whether he lived or died, whether he was sick or suffering.

He seemed to be born without the need for the support of others, no need to rely on anyone, no need for company.

So there was no need to shout out in pain, and crying was even more unnecessary. Just go and dress the wounds, cut off all the festering flesh around the tear and apply ointment on it.

It didn't matter if no one cared about him.

Anyway, that's how he came to be alone. He's survived all these years. He can take care of himself.

When he came to the door of the Chen residence, before he entered the courtyard, he heard an ear-piercing scream.

Chu Wanning didn't care about aggravating his wound and immediately rushed in - only to see the old lady Chen with a disheveled hair, her eyes closed, but chasing her son and husband all over the house, only ignoring the young daughter of the Chen family. She stood beside her in panic, huddled tightly, shaking.

Seeing Chu Wanning enter, Mr. Chen and his eldest son screamed and rushed towards him: "Dao Master! Dao Master, help!"

Chu Wanning held them back. He glanced at Madam Chen's closed eyes, and said angrily: "Didn't I tell you to watch her and keep her from falling asleep?!"

"I can't help it! My wife is unwell. She usually goes to bed early. After you left, she was still holding out at first, then she fell asleep, and then she started to go crazy! She started screaming. . . yelling. . ."

Mr. Chen shivered and ducked behind Chu Wanning. He didn't notice that he was actually wearing an auspicious outfit, nor did he notice the hideous wound on Chu Wanning's shoulder.

Chu Wanning frowned and said: "What was she yelling?"

Before Mr. Chen spoke, the mad woman rushed over with her teeth bared, screaming mournfully. It was actually the voice of a young woman—

"Spineless liar! Pathetically fickle! I want you to pay with your lives! I want you all to die!"

Chu Wanning: ". . . This evil spirit stoops low." He turned back and sternly shouted at Mr. Chen, "Does this voice sound familiar?"

Mr. Chen’s mouth was trembling. He rolled his eyes and swallowed nervously: “I don’t know, I don't recognize it, I don’t know! Please help! Please help!

Just then, Madam Chen rushed over. Chu Wanning raised his uninjured arm, pointing at the sky above Madam Chen, and a lightning bolt slammed down, trapping Madam Chen within a barrier.

Chu Wanning turned his head with an icy gaze: "You really don't know?"

Mr. Chen repeated: "I really don't know! I really don't know!"

Chu Wanning didn't say anything else. He whipped out Tianwen and bound old lady Chen in the barrier.

He should have tied up the rest of the family outside, it would be more convenient and easier to gauge the situation, but Chu Wanning had his own rules of conduct. It wasn't easy using Tianwen to interrogate abnormal individuals. So he abandoned the soft approach and instead questioned the ghost in Madam Chen's body.

Interrogating ghosts wasn't the same as interrogating people.

When Tianwen interrogated people, they couldn't fight it and would speak.

When Tianwen interrogated ghosts, it would form a boundary where only Chu Wanning and the ghost would exist. Ghosts would regain their original appearance in the boundary and pass on their message to Chu Wanning.

A flame ignited on Tianwen. It snaked along the vine, burning from his end straight to old lady Chen.

The old lady let out a scream, and suddenly began to twitch. The original scarlet flame on the willow vine instantly turned into a blue ghost fire and burned back to Chu Wanning's side.

Chu Wanning closed his eyes. The fire burned up the willow vine onto his palm, but the ghost fire couldn't hurt him. It just burned all the way along his arm, down his chest, and then went out.

". . ."

The Chen family looked at the scene in horror. They didn't know what Chu Wanning was doing.

Chu Wanning's eyelashes trembled lightly, his eyes still closed, but a white light gradually appeared in front of his eyes. Immediately afterwards, he saw a small, white, jade-like foot step out of the light, and a girl about seventeen or eighteen years old appeared in his field of vision.

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[captainpikeachu]

Since I saw this comment in the tags, I figured I should address it with more elaboration.

First of all, this comment operates at a false comparison. Notice the implication of this comment is that Sam killed “bad people” who deserved it and John killed “an innocent” who’s just a homeless man who didn’t deserve it, yet this ignores canonical evidence. If John didn’t kill Nico, it wouldn’t just be “a homeless man would be alive”, that ignores the fact that Karli and the Flag Smashers had already killed people and are by legal definition as much of a criminal and terrorist organization as the LAF organization that Sam targets in the beginning of Episode 1. 

Nico, the supposedly innocent “homeless man”, was part of a terrorist organization responsible for the injury and murder of numerous people. If Nico had survived Episode 4, he would have been helping Karli in Episode 6 taking civilians hostage and literally trying to murder them. If we are going to say that Sam taking out terrorists and criminals for the government/military is okay because many more people would have died if Sam didn’t kill them, then the same logic should be used for John who is also on the orders of the government/military to take down a group of terrorists. 

People seem to consistently and conveniently forget what Nico was doing minutes before John killed him.

This “homeless man” was more than okay with outright premeditated murder. This “homeless man” actively aided in luring John and Lemar so they could be separated and Karli could murder John simply because he is a symbol and they wanted to send a message. Homeless people do not go around engaging in premeditated murder or killing symbols to send a message. And trying to paint Nico as that is completely disingenuous. Nico was actively and willingly restraining John. Nico was okay with murder when it suited his cause. His actions are no different than the LAF criminals that Sam was fighting in Episode 1 who kidnapped a military liaison. Hell, if anything, at least the LAF criminals were just kidnapping, they weren’t actually trying to kill the military liaison like Nico and Karli and the Flag Smashers wanted to do to John and literally was in the process of doing when Lemar stopped them.

So no, stop with this bullshit of trying to act like Nico was just an innocent defenseless homeless man as if he wasn’t a willing super soldier who seconds before his death was cool with murder. You don’t get the paint the people Sam fighting as just “bad guys” simply because you happen to like the Flag Smasher’s ideology or because the show decided to give more personality to the Flag Smashers to be sympathetic than they did to the LAF people that Sam fought. How do you know some of them didn’t join the LAF because they were homeless? Because they were fighting for a cause they believed in? You can’t act like the military calling LAF criminals are proof that they are “bad” but then turn around and act like the military/government calling the Flag Smashers “terrorists” isn’t okay. That’s pure hypocrisy. Especially when the Flag Smashers’ actions portrayed in canon are literally the definition of terrorism: the unlawful use of violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims. They bombed a supply depot and literally injured and killed people, then they went on to try to take civilians hostage for force a political and social change. Whether I agree with Karli’s beliefs or not, her actions are literally legally defined as terrorism. If we call LAF criminals, then we have to acknowledge the Flag Smashers for what they are too, terrorists.

And you know what else is hypocrisy? This notion that Nico can’t get a fair trial or can’t be interrogated because he’s dead. Well guess what, the people Sam killed in Episode 1 also can’t get fair trials or be interrogated because they’re dead too. And you know what else? They can’t plead for mercy either because Sam killed them before they had the chance. How do we know that some of those LAF members wouldn’t have just surrendered if Sam had given them a chance? Maybe they have family members who love them and they want to get back to as well?

This whole “brutalizing a defenseless person in the street” is a clear attempt by many to paint John’s actions in a more nefarious light while ignoring the fact that John didn’t “brutalize a defenseless person”, he killed a person who possessed super strength and tried to murder him and got his best friend killed instead. If someone was part of a group who bombed your house and killed people you love, does it really matter to you who actually pressed the button for detonation or do you all of them just the same because they were all involved? If someone restrained you while your best friend was murdered and then seconds later tried to run away to escape justice, are you really the villain for wanting revenge?

I don’t hate Sam for killing people in Episode 1, he was doing his job and rescuing a kidnapped person. I also don’t hate John for killing Nico in Episode 4, because he understandably retaliated against someone who tried to help kill him and got his best friend killed instead. What I’m not going to stand for is the hypocrisy that fandom continues to spew in bullshit comments like this that ignores canonical evidence. You don’t get to spew shit like “fair trial” or “interrogation” when you seem to think that killing one kind of bad guy is justified because they’re “bad” while trying to to downplay another group of bad guys’ “badness” to paint them like innocents, as if they’d never hurt anyone when that’s not true.

If Sam didn’t kill those bad guys in Episode 1 and many more people would have died, then it’s the same logic for John, that if John didn’t kill Nico, then Nico would have gone on to help Karli murder and hurt more people just like he was doing seconds before he died. 

You don’t get to pick and choose which “bad guy” is more sympathetic to not kill.

[zaidshair]

"Why are the pretty bits each so different, I wonder. Erm...unique." Rhetorical but genuine. Una also admitted to the odd aversion to removing the bracelet. He glommed onto what Una said, with a knowing and wry nod.

"Lack of control," he repeated in agreement, glad someone else said it. Glad it was Una who said it. A tired smile from him. "You always know the right bloody things to say, don't you."

The compliment was a little too personal and Zaid shrugged to downplay it. "Or at least normal things, because I feel that too."

His eyes widened at the mention of incarceration, delivered in an eloquent speech worthy of a TedTalk. Una's website had delved into her having a difficult past, but no specifics. Now Zaid learned: he'd been counseled by...a convict? Zaid suddenly wasn't sure how to feel. It seemed just borderline on 'scam-artist/wellness coach red-flag' to hold her in high regard, didn't it?

She was so honest, and Zaid wondered if Una would've unlocked that history of her life at the retreat. In-person, divulging deep dark secrets so others could share theirs (and shell out more cash for more courses to Una Thorn. Fucking hell, he was cynical).

Yet here she was now, sharing for free. Zaid's smile wavered, his feelings conflicted and a little crushed. A smudge now, on his parasocially perfect mental portrait of Una Thorn. "That's...that's incredible," he commented, awkwardly.

What was incredible was how much he still eagerly leaned into Una's kindness and praise. She was so genuine! But Zaid was a typical (and wrong) normie with unquestioned societal biases. To him, 'incarcerated' equaled 'bad' because punitory laws, media propaganda, a broken society said so. A person's biases could be deconstructed; but Zaid's re-education wasn't Una's responsibility.

For now, Zaid shoved the revelatory (and for him, discomfiting) context aside to focus on the current situation: building a wolf-shifting ex-con a bloody cage. Fucking hell.

"Erm, the brig could be a good idea too..." Though so isolating. Which perhaps was the point, yet it all seemed so unreasonably cruel. "There's got to be plenty of materials to strip from the ship, if anything. We'll make a trip there, together." This needed to be a group effort, he decided. Maybe her past was rotted and her attempts to teach others was a scam; but bottom line was she had helped him. And Zaid was nothing if not a regular disciple of the sunk-cost fallacy.

Zaid was still wrestling with his thoughts when the hornets showed up. He didn't have the extra senses, but when Una stood in front of him, Zaid perked up into alertness at the throaty growl of her warning. A rumbly tone unlike her usual soft-spoken ways. A relic from her wicked past, or something else?

The hornets appeared, five of them this time, hovering for a moment over the pair. A click-clack shrikking between their wings. Some collective decision as they flew to the collection of Una's cage-materials. Clearly intent to destroy it.

But first, Una...shifted. "Flipping hell - " Zaid had little reaction time, everything was happening so quickly. He'd barely processed the giant hornets, when suddenly Una - his Una Thorn, knowledgeable and wise - started shifting. He was frozen on the spot in terrified fascination. A hornet stepped forward to face them on the ground, its TV-head flickering and a scene played out on its screen.

The sight of a beast - a monster, really - fighting a human being, to the death it seemed. Blood everywhere. Nothing held back from the monster, bloodthirsty and brutal. The hornet's screen deliberately turned to Zaid, as if specifically showing it to him.

Zaid felt more and more a pawn, a prey, a peon in a big game, as he whispered, "Una?"

Glancing down as the strange bracelet again as Zaid took a moment to examine it, Una gives a small nod. Appreciating the intricate beauty of the tiny fossil. It had been polished to a shine, gleaming like a gem. And than shoved in an ugly rubbery-plastic band. It seemed like a careless effort. It seemed the same with many of the other bracelets she'd spotted. Glorious gems and stones and trinkets, shoved in a bland and unflattering surround. Practical, maybe. Harder to lose? Harder to damage? Oddly un-aesthetic.

"It is quite pretty, and I'm sure it probably is 'real'. I don't think that whoever put this place together would scrimp on something like that. Even the smallest detail seems to be attended to."

Though as Zaid mentions the sensation he'd experienced when removing his own bracelet, Una just offers the slightest shrug in return.

"I did... For a moment. Felt sick. Dizzy."

And???

"And... not in control. Which I don't really want to risk again."

Though Zaid changes the topic back to their current focus. Building the cage. And she does give a slightly wryer smile at the probing question.

"I wasn't a saint when I was younger. Far from it. Just a bit too self-absorbed. Too greedy for my own good. So I had a spell of incarceration. I spent a long time in a small cage, Zaid."

Which is probably why the thought of using one to contain the monster doesn't phase her as much as it might others.

"But - I learned a lot. Gave me the opportunity to reflect on how the person I was, wasn't the person I wanted to be."

That is spoken with a slightly wistful tone. To have a moment of revelation. Of self-discovery at the lowest ebb... Una could only count herself as fortunate to have the opportunity to make that chance before it was altogether too late.

"They also had a few really good rehabilitation programmes and a well stocked workshop. Woodwork. Metalwork. Giving people the skills to be self sufficient and sustainable once they were released. So... Maybe I have half a clue what I'm doing."

There's a quick blink of surprise at the sudden compliment though. A soft 'oh' followed by a softer smile.

"And you are even more vivacious and vibrant."

She returns, offering a small touch to his arm in thanks.

"I remember. Saw your name. It would have been as much of pleasure to meet you then as it is now."

Though when Zaid shuts down her line of discussion about giving himself space, Una knows well enough to back off. He'd talk in his own time if he wanted to at all. Though she does offer one final thought. A small olive branch to leave dangling, just in case at some point in the future he felt like reaching out for it.

"We're all trying to figure it out, yes. But we don't need to struggle."

And that's enough, dropping the subject completely as they circle back round to the cage once more.

"Would need to reinforce the walls and the roof too. I'm not sure exactly how strong that... Version of me is. But I'm pretty sure that it could tear it's way through a prefab. I've also been thinking about a brig... On the ship, you know? Maybe there's something there that's more secure. I just haven't been able to find one yet. It might be in a part of the ship that is underwater or..."

She lets her voice fill the air with those thoughts for a moment before they're clipped off rather suddenly. Holding up one hand as though asking for silence from Zaid too.

The first thing that comes is a scent. Metallic and oily. Mixed with something that was akin to pheromones. Not the kind to attract, but something else. Signalling? She's not sure. But hot on the heels of the scent is a sound. A low ominous buzzing. Something that loud would have to be... Big... Or surely they'd be able to see it.

It sounded neither inviting, nor friendly. So... Una steps in front of Zaid. Facing the sound. Probably an almost laughable action given the fact that she was shorter and far more slight than the man with her.

A low rumble eminating from her throat. A warning growl. And certainly nothing human.

"Stay behind me."

Voice low and deep - faltering slightly around the suddenly sharper teeth that were already forming in her jaw. Instinctual and protective.

Then 'it' swings around a corner. A violently perverse creation. A mix of mechanical and natural shoved into a terrible, monstrous looking thing. If her beast was terrifying, then this abomination might be a close second. And that hind brain kicks in. The part that was far more awakened now with the presence of wolf. Sensing a potential danger she... Shifts.

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 1, Episode 3: Pack Mentality

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Derek is *ominous* and Scott is a dumbass.

                                                            ----------

“I don’t know, it just feels like something is off.” Allison groaned from beside me. 

Lydia, who was heading to lunch with us on my other side, rolled her eyes. I couldn’t really blame her. Allison had been complaining about Scott’s odd behavior this morning for the past five minutes. Apparently, he was avoiding her. 

It’d been exactly one week since my weird encounter with Scott and Stiles last Friday. I hadn’t spoken to either of them since. Stiles had tried cornering me in the halls on several occasions, but I managed to get away each time. I honestly wanted nothing to do with them or their supernatural problems. 

I just wanted to be normal for once. 

So imagine my horror when Lydia went straight for their table in the cafeteria. Allison looked all too happy for another chance to talk to Scott, but I just stood frozen in place. 

I knew it wouldn’t be possible to avoid them forever—Beacon Hills isn’t a huge town—but I wasn’t ready to confront them again yet. As I finally approached the table after everyone else, the two boys stared at me before sharing a long look. 

Well, that can’t mean anything good. 

“Why are they sitting with us?” Stiles leaned across the table to ask Scott, who just shrugged, as we all sat down. Man, someone needs to teach this guy how to whisper. 

Scott ended up sandwiched between Lydia and Allison. Danny plopped down beside Stiles and Jackson took the chair at the head of the table. The only option left for me was on Stiles’ other side, so I begrudgingly sat there. I felt his eyes on me but did my best to ignore it. 

“So, I hear they’re saying it was some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar?” Danny played with his apple and leaned his elbows on the table. 

I assumed he was talking about the poor man who’d been brutally attacked in one of the school busses overnight. There were enough rumors going around school to host an entire newscast, but no one really knew anything for sure. 

“I heard mountain lion.” Jackson corrected. 

“A cougar is a mountain lion.” Lydia muttered, seemingly embarrassed to know that fact. She constantly downplayed her intelligence, but I knew she was practically a genius. 

Jackson furrowed his brows at her in annoyance. “Who cares? The guy was probably just some homeless tweaker who was gonna die anyway.” 

Stiles put down his half peeled orange and fished his phone from his back pocket. Within seconds he had a news article about the incident pulled up. 

“Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out.” He put his phone in the middle of the table so everyone could see.

I had to lean forward to get a glimpse of the small screen, which had my shoulder just a couple inches shy of resting on Stiles’ arm. I chewed on my bottom lip as I felt the warmth from his body. He let out a quick huff and stiffened beside me, so I took that as a sign to back away. My cheeks grew hot as I leaned back into my chair and avoided his wandering gaze. 

The video he played stated that the victim was a bus driver for the district. Stiles and Scott shared a wide-eyed look that told me there was more to the story before Lydia changed the subject to a double date she wanted Allison and Scott to go on tonight. 

They both looked uncomfortable with the idea, but eventually agreed, even after Jackson said it would be more fun to stab himself in the face with his fork than hangout with Scott. A little dramatic, if you ask me. But whatever. I was just glad I wouldn’t have to sit through it with them.

Lunch ended shortly after, and everyone dissipated quickly. I had plans to meet Allison at our lockers after school so she could drive me home in her new car, but I wouldn’t see any of my friends until then. 

I collected my things and stood to leave, but stopped when a hand wrapped around my bicep. 

“Not so fast.” It was Stiles. He looked from side to side before leaning only a few inches away and once again failing at whispering. “Have you told them?” 

“Told who what?” I decided to play dumb and he cocked his head at me in annoyance. 

“Come on, Y/N. You know what I mean. The wolfy stuff?” He waved his free hand around as he talked. 

“Look, I don’t want anything to do with you, Scott, or the supernatural.” I tried to make that sound believable. It wasn’t that I was lying. Its’s just, without all the weird things going on, I would love to be both his and Scott’s friends. I just couldn’t risk getting involved in this kind of thing.

His eyes twitched at me and I sighed. “I don’t plan on telling anyone.” 

“Okay. Good. Because Derek and Scott? They can’t afford...” 

Out of nowhere, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me. Stiles’ voice faded away until all I could hear was a low ringing in my ears. The ground tilted beneath me and I stumbled to the side, growing faint. Stiles’ eyes widened and he pulled me upright with the hand that was still holding onto me. 

I could see his lips moving, but no sound reached my ears. It was like his words had somehow triggered an episode. I closed my eyes tightly but instantly regretted that decision as images flashed through my mind quickly. It was Scott, fighting someone. Or something. He was in a dilapidated building that looked like it was going to crumble to the ground any second.

After a moment I realized it was the Hale house, and the monster he was fighting was Derek. He looked different. Almost animalistic. Like...a wolf. 

I gasped myself out of the vision, and Stiles’ panicked voice filled my ears in a rush.

“What is that? What are you doing? Are you having a stroke or something?”

I tried to catch my breath and piece together everything I’d just seen. Whatever it was, I gathered that Scott would be in serious danger if he came anywhere near Derek today. I hesitated, not wanting to sound crazy, but then remembered Stiles had just seen that whole thing. 

“You can’t let Scott go to Derek’s tonight.” I sounded way more worried than I’d meant to as I hurried to get the words out.

“Derek?” Stiles’ thin brows pinched in question. “We had him arrested a few days ago.” 

I blinked, surprised. I knew he was in jail, because I’d heard the Sheriff talking in the hall this morning about his upcoming release. But I had no idea Scott and Stiles were to blame. That might explain why Derek would want to kill Scott...

“You didn’t hear? He was released this morning. They determined the animal that attacked the bus driver was a...” I trailed off, my eyes growing wide as I put the pieces together. “Wolf.”

Stiles’ face mirrored the horror I felt inside as he finally let go of my arm and stumbled back a few steps. “Yeah. We’re dead.”

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

I fidgeted with my hands in my lap as I sat on Allison’s bed. She and Lydia were picking out what they wanted to wear for their double date tonight, but I could hardly focus on a word they were saying.

My stomach was in knots and my anxiety was only rising with each passing minute. I didn’t even know Scott well, but the thought of him being killed by Derek was still unsettling. I’d already figured out that Derek is a werewolf. And most likely a murderer.

The police and hospital staff determined that a wolf killed the bus driver, but there haven’t been any wolf sightings in Beacon Hills for nearly sixty years. 

Yes, I looked it up.

All signs pointed to Derek, and I could feel that my earlier vision was getting progressively closer to coming true. I had no idea how, but if my jitters were any indication, nothing good was coming. 

“Y/N?” I snapped back into the present at the sound of Lydia’s voice. 

I looked up from my hands to see that both of them were staring at me expectantly. 

“Um.” I cleared my throat. “What?” 

Lydia rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “I said, Allison’s taste is dwindling by the minute. Don't you agree? Come take a look.”

I hesitantly joined them at her closet and flicked through her clothes. They weren't terrible by any means. Definitely not mine or Lydia’s style, but they didn't have to be. I found a black shirt with glittering sequins on the front and pulled it free. 

“What about this?”

Lydia hummed and watched Allison hold it up after she’d taken it from me. 

Just then, Allison’s bedroom door popped open gently. Her dad walked in with a pleasant smile on his lips. He was pulling his arms through a green jacket that complimented his red flannel shirt, but stopped with one arm still free. 

His eyes traveled over the three of us. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.” 

Lydia threw herself on the bed and landed with one arm propped beneath her head and the other on her hip. What the hell was she doing and why was she making that seductive face? “Hey, Mr. Argent.”

Allison tucked her hair behind her ears and dropped the shirt beside Lydia. “Dad. Did you need something?”

Her demeanor had instantly changed the second he walked in. I knew they had a good relationship for the most part, but she clearly didn’t approve of him being in here right now. 

“I wanted to tell you that you’re staying in tonight.” He continued putting on his jacket casually, as if he didn’t just ruin her plans.

“What? I’m going out with my friends tonight.” Her eyes widened in shock at his words. 

I suddenly felt out of place. The last thing I wanted to listen to was one of my friends fighting with their parents. It just was plain awkward. Lydia sat up on the bed and I could’ve sworn I saw a little disappointed frown pull at her lips. 

“Not while some animal is out there attacking people.” He shook his head like he couldn’t believe that Allison wanted to leave the house at all. 

I mean, he had a point. There was a psycho killer out there. They just didn’t know that it also happened to be a mythical creature. And a brooding recluse in leather.

“Dad! I... I’m—” Allison raised her voice and threw her arms down in frustration. 

“Hey, hey.” Her dad interrupted with a stern look. “It’s out of my hands. There’s a curfew. No one’s allowed out past nine thirty.”

I had actually forgotten about that. It was pretty dumb, really. It wasn’t like an animal would look at the clock and say, “Oh, crap. It’s not nine thirty yet. Can’t attack anyone for ten more minutes.”

Allison’s dad turned to leave and she huffed. Looks like they’ll have to find another way to go on their date. 

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

It was nearly midnight now, and I hadn’t heard any grief filled screaming from next door, so I figured Scott was okay. The car in the driveway let me know that his mom was home and I took that as another good sign. He probably was too. I needed to stop freaking out. 

I was home alone, which didn’t help. There wouldn’t be anyone here to distract me from my mounting anxiety until five in the morning, when mom got off of work. To pass the time, I put on a random trash reality show and laid mindlessly on the couch.

I didn’t want to think right now. I wanted a distraction from the craziness that was ensuing all around me, and TV was always reliable.

I nearly had a heart attack when someone began aggressively banging on the front door. It wasn’t even close to normal knocking. No, it was I’m being chased by an axe murderer and you need to let me in right now before I’m decapitated kind of hammering.

I jumped to my feet and jogged to the door to see who it was, afraid something was wrong. I pressed my eye to the peep hole and frowned in confusion, the wood vibrating beneath my fingers. The incessant pounding continued up until the very moment I swung the door open.

I stared expectantly at the boy in front of me, who still had his right hand raised as if he were going to continue trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood.

“Scott’s not home.” Stiles somehow managed to be out of breath from the short walk between our houses.

A few tense beats of silence passed between us as I waited for him to continue. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to, I prodded. “And?”

“And that’s bad. Very very bad.”

I let my eyes sweep over him, half convinced that he was drunk or something. He wasn’t making any sense. For starters, why would I care if Scott is home or not? And why was he in such a frenzy over it? It looked like he’d jumped out of bed and ran straight here. He was only wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a grey t-shirt with a skull on it, so I knew he hadn’t taken his time in getting ready. If he had, he’d be wearing at least two other layers. 

“I already checked Allison’s. His mom thought he was still on the date. He isn’t answering any of my texts.” Stiles was rambling, clearly very worked up.

I moved to pull my phone out of my back pocket. “I’ll just call Allison, I’m sure she knows where—”

“No!” Stiles slapped it out of my hand and I watched as it clattered onto the concrete a few feet away.

My jaw dropped in shock and his eyes widened as if realizing what he just did. He stood frozen for a moment before scooping it up and shoving it into the pocket of his jacket.

“Are you crazy? Give that back.” I took a small step outside, but didn’t go far. I still wasn't wearing any shoes. 

He shook his head quickly. “He has to be at Derek’s. You’re coming with me.” 

“Okay, now I know you’re crazy.” I let out a humorless laugh but grew serious again when he just stared at me with his wide caramel eyes. “Why would I come with you?”

“All I have is my Jeep and a baseball bat, but I need to make sure he’s okay. I’m slightly terrified. And I have your phone.”

I frowned. So he was holding it hostage now. There was no way I would ever willingly set foot on that property again. The last time I was there, I saw half of a dead body. I did not want to see the other half. Or a new dead body, like Scott’s.

There was absolutely no way.

                                                 ——————

The Jeep skidded to a stop outside the Hale house. It was so abrupt that I whipped forward in the passenger seat, my face just barely missing the dashboard due to my seatbelt.

Stiles sent me a sheepish, lopsided smile before bolting from the car. I rolled my eyes up to the sky and sighed. I was so going to regret this.

I jumped out and followed him to the front door, noticing that Scott’s bike was laying beside the porch. I silently pointed at it and Stiles stiffened as he stood with one hand on the door. That wasn’t exactly a good sign.

Suddenly, Scott’s voice echoed from inside.

“Derek! I know you’re here. I know what you did!” He sounded frantic.

Stiles immediately ran into the house and I had no choice but to follow. Scott whipped around at the sound of the door slamming open. His wide eyes moved from Stiles to me in confusion.

“I didn't do anything.” Derek’s disembodied voice drifted from somewhere upstairs.

Seemingly forgetting about our existence, Scott turned back to the wide staircase in front of him.

“You killed him!” He called upward.

He must be talking about the bus driver. It was only logical that Derek was the murderer, but why Scott thought it was a good idea to confront him about it, I had no idea. He must have a death wish. My heart started hammering in my chest. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the guy. 

“He died...” Derek responded, sounding as ominous as ever.

Scott took the first step. “Like your sister died?”

His sister?

“My sister was missing.” His voice raised a little in anger. He was still nowhere to be seen. “I came here looking for her.”

“Well, you found her.” Scott continued moving up the stairs slowly, looking for Derek with each movement.

“I found her in pieces! Being used as bait to catch me!” His voice echoed throughout the entire house now as he grew louder. Scott was pissing him off, which was quite possibly the dumbest thing I’d ever witnessed.

Oh, shit. The body in the yard was his sister. My blood ran cold. What kind of sick bastard kills their own family? Being here was such a bad idea. 

Scott was at the top of the stairs now, turning in circles slowly. “I think you killed them both, and I’m going to tell everyone. Starting with the sheriff.”

Stiles stiffened beside me at the mention of his father. I didn’t blame him. He may be the sheriff, but that didn't exactly qualify him to investigate supernatural murders. I saw a shadow shift upstairs and my heart plummeted into my stomach.  

“Watch out!” I called, but it was too late.

Derek appeared from the darkness and shoved Scott down the stairs violently. I gasped and covered my mouth as he tumbled down like a rag doll. Derek just stood at the top, watching. Stiles jerked into motion, running to his side as he lay crumbled on the hardwood floors.

Scott pushed himself up to his knees and groaned. Then, he lifted his head and growled loudly at Stiles. His eyes widened in fear and he stumbled back, falling on his ass. He scrambled away as fast as he could, rejoining my side.

All I could do was stare with wide eyes, my jaw almost hitting the floor. Scott looked half animal, half human. His eyes were glowing bright yellow, his brow was thicker, his ears were pointy, and he had deadly long canines. His fingernails had been replaced by lethal claws. He was in full werewolf mode.

Derek jumped down the entire staircase in one fluid motion. When he landed gracefully on his feet, Stiles gripped my arms and tugged me backwards. I stumbled into him, my back hitting his chest, but I was too shocked by the sight before me to move away. We ducked down beside the staircase. 

The two werewolves stared at each other for a long moment before Scott clutched the lapels of Derek’s jacket and threw him into the air. I couldn’t help but gasp as he went flying through a nearby wall. Scott was strong as hell, which would be cool in any other situation, but right now it was kind of terrifying. The house fell into silence as Derek collected himself in the other room.

“Get out of here.” Scott growled in our direction, his voice thick and guttural.

He didn’t need to tell me twice. I was about to do just that, when Derek came striding back into the foyer. I froze in a half crouched position until Stiles pulled me back down against him. If we weren't in danger right now, I would've blushed at our close proximity. My back was pressed to his chest again, and he had a hand clasped around one of my shoulders to hold me in place. 

“That was cute.” Derek slowly removed his leather jacket and discarded it on the floor. 

Oh, God. That couldn't be good. 

The two beasts growled at each other while walking in circles before Derek suddenly lifted Scott by the shoulders and slammed him back into a wall right in front of where we hid. Stiles let go of my shoulder to grip one of my hands tightly as we stumbled up the stairs, having nowhere else to go.

Derek looked utterly petrifying. He was way bigger than Scott, and clearly stronger. He was pretty much handing him his ass in this fight already, but it looked like he was holding back at the same time. I didn’t doubt for a second that he could easily end it at any moment.

He landed punch after punch, and all Stiles and I could do was watch. At that moment, I realized he hadn’t even brought his bat inside. We were utterly useless.

It seemed to go on forever. Scott landed some punches, but it was nothing compared to the damage Derek was doing. I let out a shaky breath when I realized I’d been holding it in for several seconds. I cringed as Derek lifted Scott into the air by his neck, only to slam him down onto the floor. He repeated this action several times, until Scott was left groaning on the ground in a crumpled heap. 

Then, they both shifted back to normal. 

“I didn’t kill him.” Derek clenched his fists and took a threatening step toward Scott. “Neither of us did. It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine.”  

“This? This is all your fault! You ruined my life!” Scott, being the dumbass that he is, got in Derek’s face and yelled his frustrations. 

“No, I didn’t.” Derek insisted, raising his voice a little too. 

“You’re the one who bit me.”

“No, I’m not.” 

I shifted uncomfortably beside Stiles. It looked like the fighting was over, but that didn't make me want to be here any more. This place would give me the creeps even if there weren’t two werewolves bickering in front of me.

“This seems like a private conversation.” I muttered and popped to my feet. He spazzed out and grabbed my arms quickly. 

“Are you insane?” He forced me back down with a glare. 

“What?!” Scott suddenly shouted, and I jumped. 

“I’m not the one who bit you.” 

Scott fell back onto a nasty green couch behind him. That news had taken the air right from his lungs. He stared at the dusty floors for a long moment, processing. “There’s another...”

“Its called an alpha. It’s the most dangerous of our kind. You and I, we’re betas. This thing is more powerful, more animal, than either of us. My sister came here looking for him. Now I’m trying to find him, but I don’t think I can do it without you.” Derek was looking at Scott intensely, urging him to listen. To help him. 

I wasn't entirely sure that he was even telling the truth. It really did look like he killed that girl. His sister. Half of her was buried in his yard, for God’s sake. We didn't know him at all. Why should be just believe him?

“Why me?” Scott asked breathlessly. It seemed he was a lot more willing to go along with this. 

“Because he’s the one that bit you.” I stiffened. Didn't that mean they were somehow connected? I’d done as much reading about werewolves as possible, but there wasn't as much online as you would think.

“You’re part of his pack. It’s you, Scott. You’re the one he wants.” 

“You don't believe this, do you?” I whispered to Stiles, who shook his head solemnly. 

“Not for a second.”

Episode 2, Part Two      Episode 4

[burnedbyshoto]

Believe in Me

todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff? angst? ha, find out ;)

word count: 2,610

a/n: this was... the hardest thing I’ve had to write... ask my friends, i asked for many ideas!!!! i think because momo is my hc lesbian im like “why is reader jealous? what an idiot!” so i made it more... insecure than jealous! but still i hope you enjoy my love :D

Shouto and Momo had an unbreakable bond.

They were the two students who got in through recommendation. A testament to not only their quirks but to their connections to the Hero Society. They shared their levels of fame, wealth, were from the same circle of society. Most importantly, they have always clicked.

You sometimes wondered why they never dated. It was unfair of you to think that way, after all, Shouto was your boyfriend! Yet, when you were in situations like this… your thoughts took a dive into insecurity.

Jealousy, insecurity, and bitter feelings.

You were good at keeping them down! It was because you didn’t want to be that kind of girlfriend, but they were often insufferable together. It was most often hard studying with them. Shouto always seemed to ask for her help, and you got why he did! Momo, of course, had a higher ranking than you did in the class, but you still outranked him! Why did he never ask you?

Or the way they always paired up together during hero basics training when given the option. The two of them often getting the highest marks in the lesson.

Or even the way Shouto talked about Momo. Pure respect and admiration laced his tone. He was proud of the lengths of which she had grown since her meltdown during your first semester here at U.A.

But right now, you were in a situation that made it hard for you to speak. The two of them were analyzing the situation before them with intensive whispering. The three of you were in a group together for mid-terms your final year here, and you were feeling neglected. They stood analyzing how to get the best success from this test. A simple task that required them to save the “civilian” from a building crawling with “villains.”

Momo was a strategist, you knew that. She had a very capable quirk, but always acted more of a support than the actual hero. Shouto was also a strategist in his own way, but he usually decided to overpower others with his quirk. You weren’t much of a strategist. You were an excellent combat fighter; your strategies involved decisions at the moment. It was never meticulous or planned ahead of time. It worked for you! You were great at it, but most were not. Real-life was different from theory, that’s what you always believed at least.

You felt awkward as you stood behind them, taking in the information of what they wanted you to do. You did not feel included in this strategy whatsoever. You didn’t agree on some parts of the strategy. You had even voiced your thoughts! You had stated that even though it was indoors, doesn’t mean that all the villains would be smart. But the two of them ignored your concerns. Ruling out it out as none of your lessons gave you chaotic villains indoors.

“I don’t like the strategy…” You whisper to Shouto again, as Momo is doing one last mental recital of the game plan. “Why would the last floor not have guards? Plus, the entire no making noise thing is bull! Momo is a great strategist, but you can’t expect us to not make any noises!”

“I know you don’t like that part,” Shouto sighs. Shouto knows the mass majority of what they’re asking of you goes against most things you have always done. You were a fighter. You weren't a capturer! Yet they wanted you to have the stealth of someone like Hagakure by the sounds of it. “But it does make sense and Yaoyorozu’s plan... it’s the best one we got.”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” You try again. “It's that I don’t see our teachers—“

“Todoroki-san, I have one final concern!” Yaoyorozu exclaims, and Shouto squeezes your shoulders before he turns around.

Your heart fell as they arranged the last details. They re-explained everything to you, and you nodded even so. Momo flashed a thumbs-up to wherever your teachers would be watching. You guys were the last ones to wrap up your plan after all. The siren blared and you followed behind Momo as the three of you took off.

The beginning position was a straight line. Using Shouto’s ice to your advantage, he would first freeze any of the villains on the same floor they were on. So not to alert the villains of them coming.

Momo was in the middle. She would provide any changes of action and anything the two of you may need to make sure this was a smooth run.

You made up the back. You would take down anyone else who may have been successful in getting trapped. So far things had worked out fine, the three of you continued clearing floors with little to no issue. Begrudgingly, you had to admit Momo had been right. Still, there was something about all this that made you uneasy.

As you continue climbing, you couldn’t help the guilt that soaked through your bones. Because so far, Momo had been correct at every call. It was the twentieth floor and you hadn’t been needed once, and to be honest, you were zoning out. Momo had been assisting Shouto for the most part. Creating loud noises as diversions for Shouto to capture them. Shouto would then use his fire as you climbed the staircases.

Soon, all you did was follow behind them, you hadn’t been needed once.

It isn’t until floor twenty-seven when something happens. A sudden yell from Momo alerts you and a large piece of concrete is hurtling towards you. With no time to dodge, you tense your body as it crashes into you. You’re sent flying, and you gasp as it hurts to breathe. You get up to your feet as you peer at the villain in front of you. A clone of Cementoss but with an anger issue that made Bakugou seem like Miss Japan.

You look at Momo and Shouto who are halfway towards the stairwell. Their bodies ready to fight and you wave them off. You had this covered. They needed to save up their quirks anyways. They nod as they turn and leave. You could feel the discontent in Shouto as he disappears into the stairwell.

The battle between you and Cementoss is loud and ugly. You try your best at keeping this quiet and secretive, but he continues to rip concrete from the walls. Hurtling it towards you without breaking a sweat.

It takes a while, but you finally manage to reduce the Cementoss into a rag doll. Someone could make copies of people as long as they made a doll that looked like them. So that was what the villains were in this. But your eyes focused in on the damage around you, smart villains your ass. You took off running after your team, and you winced at the feeling of the bruise that was sure to form on your ribcage.

The next two floors have been cleared in the time it took you to catch up. Currently. Momo and Shouto were facing off every single teacher at U.A., their backs towards you.

“I thought we agreed to make battles silent!” Shouto yelled as you enter the twenty-ninth floor. There’s an annoyance on his face as his quirk deletes and he’s forced to dodge a wave of attacks. Your eyes are on Momo who is trying to get herself out of harm's way. But as you said before, she wasn’t quite the best on spot fighter.

So with a tight throat, you raced in to help.

It took another five minutes of intensive fighting. Finally, the three of you panted at the sight of the lifeless dolls now scattered before you. Momo had an injury though. She had taken a rather nasty punch from the All Might doll that you had overwhelmed earlier. You thought you had it defeated, but you were wrong on that assumption.

Shouto has her arm around his shoulder. He was silent as he went to the staircase, and you followed afterward your head low.

At the top floor, Present Mic stood bound to the chair, alone, and excited to see the three of you. You sighed as Momo untied him, but something didn’t feel right. You couldn’t understand why there was no alarm for your victory.

You may not be a strategist, but your damn instincts were fantastic. Something was moving in the shadows... your skin crawled as you heard something whiz through the air.

It seemed that both Momo and Shouto had finally caught up to where your thoughts were. Yet you were the only one to react to the knife that was coming towards Momo. You intercepted the knife with your body as you topple over from the hit. Why was U.A. so merciless?

Damn, having Recovery Girl made these matches brutal sometimes.

Your eyes scanned the darkness of the room. Present Mic’s yapping makes it hard for you to focus but you suppress his voice. The voices of Momo and Shouto now silent in your ears. Nothing they could say was going to fix the fact that they had been wrong, and you had been right. You moreover wanted to be the team that won.

Then you hear it, the slight clicking that made your skin crawl the first time. Sending your energy to your hand, you used your quirk, sending it out. Your energy materialized, glowing as it held a Principal Nezu doll by its throat, a machine in his hand.

The alarm sounds.

“Team G has passed.”

You don’t turn around to your team members who are most likely concerned for you. It’s too much. So you walk away, knife still embedded in your side, bruises scattering your body, and pride hurt.

You ignore their calls as you head to the stairwell. You knew that Shouto was going to help Momo down anyways, as he always did, as he always will.

*•*•*•*

You flinch as Recovery Girl slams her shot onto your head. “You need to find a better way of stopping knives that isn’t with your body!” She huffs, her face red and angry as she stares at you. “Between you and Midoriya, I’m going to break out in the hives while watching you two fight!”

You laugh as you try to downplay her rightful worries. You have been known to stop flying projectiles with your body. “It makes me feel superheroic!” You tease as her hands tighten the bandage around your torso, the force of it making you flinch.

“Heroic? More like idiotic! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Well, they weren’t listening to me anyway… and Yaomomo was hurt! I didn’t have the energy to use my quirk at the moment, and I couldn’t let her get hurt…!” You sigh as you shift your costume back into place.

Recovery Girl sighs, her fingers pinching her nose as she shakes her head. “You’re going to make an excellent hero, y/l/n, but you need to have faith in your own judgment to other people. You can’t let others drown you out when you have caused to worries about your own.”

You nod your head, you knew that. But it wasn’t fun trying to interrupt when it was Momo’s master plan.

You eventually leave her office, your body sore, but no longer in pain. You enter the hallway to see Shouto waiting for you, no longer in costume, but in his uniform.

“Are you okay?” Shouto asks as he walks over to you, concern in his face. His fingers graze your face, but you turn your head. You didn’t want this from him right now. A short sigh escapes his mouth as his hands drop to his sides again. “I’m sorry.”

You blink away tears as you stare at him, “For what, Shouto?”

“For a lot of things,” Shouto has a sad smile as he runs a hand through his locks. “First, for yelling at you today, that was unacceptable of me. There weren’t that many dolls there when we first entered. Then you shook the building and they multiplied, and I wrongly blamed you.”

You scoff as you rub away your tears, “Yeah, that one hurt.”

“I’m also sorry for not taking your own thoughts about the strategy into consideration.” Shouto continues and you let yourself succumb to your need of being held. Shouto wraps his arms around you tightly, his hands rubbing your back.

“It hurts, y-you know…” Your voice cracks as you shake your head against his warm chest. “You’re my fucking boyfriend, but sometimes you don’t care about anything I have to contribute! You believe Yaomomo, so, so, much… and I don’t blame you! It’s just so… shitty when y-you don’t believe in me the same way!”

“I’m sorry…”

“But are you? Are you saying this to make me feel better right now? Or do you genuinely mean it? Shouto, I know you love me, and that’s not what my issue is here! It’s just... when I see the way you treat her opinions in comparison to my own… it really sucks! I get that you trust her, but would it hurt you to trust me too?!”

You can’t keep the sobs in you anymore as you cry in his chest, the bleeding wound in your heart no longer able to be withheld. You’re tired of feeling insecure to a girl you knew Shouto didn’t love. You're tired of being bitter because he did love you! Shouto loves you so much but you think that it should make him more lenient towards your ideas.

The sobs become spluttered cries as Shouto presses soft kisses against your face. Everywhere and anywhere. Apologizes on his tongue as he lets you cry.

“I never wished to make you feel insecure about your ability as an individual.” Shouto states as your sobs become gasping breathes as you try to keep calm. “I love you more than anything, y/n. You’ve always been such a strong, capable individual. I never expected you needed my approval. Yaoyorozu still worries me from our finals from our first year, and so most of my support is a habit. My love, you’re amazing, and I’m sorry I haven’t been telling you that enough or showing you that enough.”

You let out a shaky groan as you’re feeling slightly better, but you still don’t wish to let go. “…you should tell me that more often, but I’m sorry for everything I did today…”

“You did nothing wrong.”

“It didn’t seem like that...”

“Well your boyfriend is a fucking idiot when he’s stressed, he is the worst.”

“Don’t give him a hard time,” You giggle slightly and blush at the sound of his heartbeat picking up from your laughter. “He was being an amazing friend.”

You let his hands cup your cheeks and your eyes closed as his lips touch yours. It’s soft, sweet, loving, and laced with a million apologies. You want more out of it. Your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouth is ready to drop in opening for him. But gasp from Momo interrupts the two of you.

You look to see Momo and Jirou standing together, and there’s a blush on Momo’s cheeks. “I came to see how you were doing, y/l/n-chan, but you’re both busy! We’re sorry!” Momo gasps as she tugs Jirou away who’s giving the two of you a thumbs up.

You laugh at they round about the corner and Shouto sighs. “Now where were we?” He asks, a smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes as you bunch his shirt into your hands, and tug him down for a kiss.

[duhragonball]

BEGIN: Battle Tendency Liveblog.   JJBA Ch. 45-47

🇺🇸🗽🧗‍♂️🧼🪀🌵Part 2, Hell Yeah!🌪️🎈🛩️🌋🚬

I'm pretty friggin' excited for Part 6 anime, and Part 6 is one of my faves, so one could understandably assume that Part 6 is my favorite.  And I post a lot of other JoJo stuff on this blog, so it's probably not obvious, but Part 2 is the best.   

I got into JoJo in 2017, watching Parts 1-4 in anime version, then reading the scanlations of Parts 5-8 while I waited for the anime to catch up.    Then I re-liveblogged the Part 5 manga because there was finally a proper translation available.   And technically the Part 8 liveblog never ended, since the manga is still ongoing.  

As I developed an appreciation for the manga, I started to feel like I should go back and check out the comic versions of Parts 1 through 4.  Where better to start than my personal favorite?   But I never got around to it, until now.

There's a few things I want to explore with Part 2.    First, I want to go through and work out why exactly I like it so much.   It's kind of tough to articulate, but usually I just say that it's fast-paced and something's always happening.   Part 1 takes a while to get going, and Parts 3-8 rely on the Stand concept, which means that each of them occasionally fall into the trap of becoming formulaic.   Part 2 doesn't have the hassle of introducing all the lore, and it doesn't have the luxury of just doing a gauntlet of Stand Battles to pad out the story.   But I think there's more to it than that.  Battle Tendency has a charm all it's own, and that's what I want to talk about.

Second, now that I've become familiar with Parts 1-7 (and most of 8), I want to go back and see how 2 holds up as part of this mythos.   BT sort of gets overlooked, I think, and that's fair, since it doesn't involve Dio, Stands, or the more outlandish costumes of the later installments.  A lot of fans write off Parts 1 and 2 for being "boring", but at least Phantom Blood carries the prestige of starting it all, and providing the origin of Dio.  Something I think a lot about is whether or not Part 2 "connects" with the later entries in the JoJo series.  It forms a trilogy with 1 and 3, and Part 4 features Joseph's legacy in an important way, but what about the later ones?   Parts 5 through 8 owe a huge debt to Stardust Crusaders for introducing Stands, and to Phantom Blood for introducing JoJo's, but what does Part 2 give them, if anything?   

Third, I'm interested in seeing how BT holds up in isolation.    It's a direct sequel to Part 1, and it ends with a prelude to Part 3, so it's clearly designed to function as part of a larger saga.   But Parts 4 and 5 really don't operate that way, and that got me thinking that maybe Part 2 is more self-contained than I give it credit for.  

But enough about that, let's get this started.

There's two plot threads in these opening chapters.  One reintroduces Robert E. O. Speedwagon, now a 70 year old oil tycoon, and Straizo, who has succeeded the late Tonpetti as the Ripple Master.   Speedwagon has been using his oil fortune to fund a research organization called the Speedwagon Foundation, and it discovered something major during an archaeological expedition: an engraving of the stone mask, the same one Dio used to turn himself into a vampire 50 years earlier.   Note that the mummified corpse lying on the slab with the engraving has vampire fangs.   Whoever this guy is, he didn't just know about the masks, he used one personally.

It might get revealed later in the comics, but I'm pretty sure the anime version had Speedwagon explain that he primary purpose of his foundation was to learn more about phenomena like the Stone Mask, which is probably why they were digging up an Aztec temple in Mexico to begin with.   As I recall, the Stone Mask was discovered in that part of the world, and taken back to Europe, where it eventually came into the possession of the Joestar family.   Speedwagon would know this tale, and so if he wanted to find out more about the mask, he would have known where to start.   Fifty years later, he seems to have hit paydirt.

But the mask engraving isn't why he called Straizo all the way in from Tibet.   Deeper in the temple, there's a weird looking area that looks like something from out of an H.R. Giger painting.   In the center stands this column, or pillar, if you will, and mounted on the pillar is...

...This guy, surrounded by more stone masks.   When I first watched this part of the anime, I though the big reveal here was that there were lots and lots of Stone Masks, which would be a big problem, since Part 1 made a big deal out of destroying the one Stone Mask that started all the trouble.   And maybe the guy in the pillar was the one who invented the things, I thought, but the bigger problem is that he made so many of them.   But no, Speedwagon explains that the "Pillar Man" is not an image carved into the stone, but a living being, in some form of suspended animation.  He even has a pulse.   

So who is this guy and why did he create the Stone Masks?   Speedwagon does not care.   He only wants this Pillar Man destroyed before he wakes up, and that's the sole reason he called in Straizo.   The two of them were the only survivors of the battle with Dio 50 years ago, and Straizo's Hamon power, also known as the Ripple, can destroy vampires that were created by the Stone Mask.    So he's desperately hoping Straizo can finish off the Pillar Man the same way.   But Straizo doesn't seem as concerned about it, and he asks about Joseph Joestar instead.    So I guess I ought to circle back to the other plotline... 

Fifty years after Jonathan Joestar sacrificed himself to defeat Dio Brando, his wife Erina and his grandson Joseph have moved to New York City.   Joseph tries to buy a Coke, but this kid swipes his wallet.   Kind of funny how Joesph's first and last appearances in JJBA are him getting robbed. 

But the kid runs afoul of the local corrupt cops, who bludgeon him with their batons and threaten to put him in jail for 20 years unless he agrees to give them a cut of whatever money he makes from pickpocketing.   When Joseph catches up to this scene, the cop even says he's going to keep Joseph's wallet "as evidence".   I gotta say, not everything from Battle Tendency has aged well, but this police brutality stuff has become incredibly relevant.  This could be 2021, except the cop would have had a gun, and he would have shot Smokey, then Joseph because he mistook the Coke bottle for a rocket launcher.  

Joseph tries to defuse the situation by claiming he gave the wallet to the kid as a gift, but the cop doesn't believe that story, and he wouldn't care even if he did.   He even smears boogers in Joseph's face just to prove that he can say and do whatever he pleases.    Up to this point, Joseph looks and seems a lot like Jonathan.  Later artwork tries to downplay that resemblance, probably just so it's easier to tell them apart.   The anime gave Joseph different color hair, and Hirohiko Araki himself started drawing young Joseph with aviator goggles all the time, even though he doesn't wear them that much in this story.  But starting out, the idea was that Joseph is the spitting image of his grandfather, and it almost looks like this is just an clever way to sneak Jonathan back into the story and transport him forward in time, except....

Coming through, coming through, coming through now  

Coming through, coming through, coming through now

Coming through, coming through, coming through 

Shake it like it's heat, Overdrive!

Yeah, so Joseph can do Hamon/Ripple tricks just like his grandfather, and all the others guys who could use Hamon back in Part 1.   The difference is that when Joseph does it, it looks coooooool.  After breaking Officer Hulk Hogan’s trigger finger, Joseph takes a big swig of soda, because it’s awesome.

To Smokey’s surprise, Joseph did all that badass stuff a second ago, but he’s terrified about his grandmother scolding him for it.  So Joseph wants to run for it, and that suits Smokey, so they rush off together, beginning a long tradition of JoJo’s running from things.   Enemies, consequences, you name it. 

Smokey asks Joseph how he learned how to do that trick with the coke bottle, and he says he has no idea, he’s just always been able to do it.    He knows his grandfather had the same power, but he’s dead, and so are his mother and father.  Curiously, Joseph’s father did not have Hamon powers, so it seems to have skipped a generation. 

And that sets up the other side of the plot.   Speedwagon wants Straizo to destroy the Pillar Man immediately, but Straizo first asks about Joseph.   He had heard some time ago that Joseph had innate Hamon abilities, and he had used them once to rescue Speedwagon from a kidnapping attempt in midair.   A flashback shows us this moment, with guys threatening to ransom and kill Speedwagon, but Joseph is just chilling in the back with a Superman comic. 

Okay, time out.   This panel rules and all, but the Superman comic book didn’t start until 1939, a year after Battle Tendency begins.   Superman was featured in the 1938 magazine Action Comics, but this scene on the plane is a flashback to Joseph from his early teens.   Also, the earliest DC bullet logo didn’t appear until 1940, so what is this?  Some kind of magic, time travelling comic book?    I hope someone got fired for this blunder! 

Anyway, Joseph was content to ignore the hijackers until one of them struck him, and even that wouldn’t have upset him except he got his own blood on his clothes, which Erina bought him, so that sends him into a rage.   Speedwagon was worried that Joseph might clobber the hijackers, but instead he knocks out the pilot, then drags him and Speedwagon out of the plane before it crashes.    The main thrust of that story was that Speedwagon was more worried about what Joseph might do than the hijackers who had already threatened to murder him.   Joseph is slow to anger, but once you piss him off he’s going to go to war, and he doesn’t always think things through.

But he’s never been trained to use his powers like Straizo’s order.  Upon hearing this, Straizo kills his own disciples, and all of the Speedwagon Foundation guys, then knocks Speedwagon himself out.   This will anger Joseph when he hears about it, but Straizo is counting on this.    As he explains, Hamon power can slow his aging process down considerably.   He and Speedwagon are both about 70 here, but he looks much younger.   Even so, he’s feeling his age, and he confesses that he always admired Dio for his immortality and power.   So now that there’s Stone Masks available, he’s decided to use one on himself, become a vampire, and become “a being that surpasses all”.  

And that’s a theme that runs through all of Battle Tendency, along with the rest of the JoJo franchise.  The main villains always seek power to position themselves above the rest of humanity.  At first, it seems kind of random for one of the men who opposed Dio to suddenly switch allegiences like this, but in truth, it’s human nature to be tempted by this kind of power.  Dio succumbed to the lure of the Mask, and now we find that Straizo would have done the same.   He just didn’t have the opportunity until now.

But the reason he’s concerned about Joseph is that he’s thinking this through.  Dio was defeated after all, so Straizo wants to eliminate anyone who could potentially defeat him.  Aside from himself and Speedwagon, the only others who know about the battle with Dio and the Stone Mask are Erina and Joseph.   Once he eliminates them, he’ll be free to do as he pleases.

Back to New York, this is a pretty sweet drawing of a car.    I’m not a car guy, but even I can get behind this.  By now, Smokey has met Erina Joestar, and he finds out some of the backstory from Part 1.    Erina’s husband died at sea, and she was pregnant with their son, Joseph’s father, and had a baby girl whom she rescued from the same incident at sea.   The two children grew up, married, had Joseph, and died, the father in World War I, and the mother of some unspecified illness.  Perhaps out of loneliness, Erina is “unflinchingly kind” even to someone like Smokey Brown, who doesn’t seem to think he’s worthy of her favor.

Anyway, Erina wants to take Smokey out to dinner at this nice Italian restaurant, but this racist mafia guy makes a big stink about a Black person being allowed to eat there.    Joseph gets up to kick his ass, but first he has to check with Erina to make sure it’s okay, and she’s like “Yeah, destroy that guy,” because even though she doesn’t approve of Joseph beating up people, she can’t abide disrespect to her friends.   This leads to the memorable fight scene where Joseph is like eight steps ahead of his opponent.  He goes for his brass knuckles, but can’t find them, and Joseph deduces where they are because of some bloodstains on his shirt.  He even suggests what this guy is about to say next because he’s so predictable.

Then he dodges every blow, moving so quickly that this jerk thinks he was hitting Joseph, when in fact he was punching a hat rack behind Joseph, and somehow he didn’t notice that he impaled his hand on broken wood until Joseph explained it to him.     And honestly, this feels like the prototype for a lot of Stand Battles down the line.  I’ll have more to say on that later.

What puts Battle Tendency over the top is how Joseph not only outwits this big lummox, but the rest of the diners at this restaurant all start applauding him for doing it.    They’re just honored to be present in this insane comic book where literally anything can happen.   “He made that asshole punch a hat rack!   This is awesome!”

Then this dude suddenly speaks up.   He’s not only the mafia guy in charge of the first guy, but he’s also heard a hot tip about Speedwagon getting murdered in Mexico by a Tibetan man.   He knew Erina would be interested in hearing this, but he’d never met her before.  Small world, huh?  

How would this guy already know about it, though?  I guess Straizo deliberately leaked the story, specifically so Joseph would find out about it sooner, but it seems awfully convenient.   But that’s how Battle Tendency rolls.   This thing’s only seven volumes long, and we’ve got a lot of ground to cover...

[lawrising-a]

( starter for @madetrouble !! )

tacenda ( or the words better left unsaid ) was always a foundation matthew believed in. reluctance tingles the air when he mulls over the word, because a part of his wayward soul wants to announce everything ---- though he still puts blind faith in the act full heartedly. it's normal, isn't it? to keep things under the weight of your pink tongue, locked away from the judgemental predatory minds of your own kind. people claim honesty is what breeds strong bonds, although in matt's experience, it's been the exact opposite. when he's honest, brutally blunt like an emperor's rugged sword, people go away. a slow process, usually tedious, but they leave nonetheless. and the former detective is left with the ruined, shattered pieces of that outcome ; trapped in a self deprecated prison that he knows was built with his own hands. this 'incident' happens too often to keep score ( he knows the number by heart, anyway ) and it's happened recently too. sure, it goes unsaid that everlock is a festering wound that can never glaze over. forever stuck on discolored skin. but it's not just that, it's all the words he said when he shouldn't have that haunts him too. sticking to him like flies to a corpse. drawn to the oozing pus, the trails of blood that prickle out of his tired ( beaten in ) pores.

there were his gruff comments aimed at the town itself that should've stayed in his head. scoffing at the civilians ; parading as judge, jury, and executioner. acting as if the deaths had been for naught. who gave him the right to determine that? ( his badge, right? his badge ---- ) did those comments stick with anyone he'd met? did he play a hand in placing guilt on calliope, on the pig-nosed man, or even mortimer? were two deaths on him?

then teala. jc. seems like a bad habit, speaking ill of the dead. of people who had only done their best. bleeding heart tenses up, trapped within the confines of his crumbling ribcage, and he expertly chokes down a wheeze that wants to wobble out ; as though he'd been crushed under the heel of something. a sign of emotional vulnerability so easily stomped out. because showing is telling, in a more intimate way than words could ever dream to be. poets wish they could express what they write. leaders wish they could act on the promises they speak. and that's why matthew is quick to straighten his posture, pretend like he's not being torn to shreds. act as though he never died when he's out in public. among others who will never know anything besides the safety net of normalcy.

or, to be fair, it's why he acts like this around … nikita. not because she doesn't get it ( ha, she doesn't ) but he pretends due to the fact she gets it too well. if she looks hard enough she'll see things that are tacenda. something he isn't ready to carry is her knowing the things he doesn't say … after all, hasn't he said enough raw honesty to her?

their argument earlier resurfaces. with him red faced and spitting, hands clenched at his side like weapons ramping up while he stood his ground. she didn't cower because she is ( was ) the troublemaker. took his storm with an almost bored expression. it was then he noticed the overwhelming absence of everyone, especially a certain record producer she'd been keen on standing in front of one of the many times they've fought. it burst from him then. locked and loaded and thriving to win ; the survivalist part in him clawing for it. when he remembers what he said now, tersely walking to where nikita currently resides, he shudders with pure disgust. how could he be so agonizingly cruel? why did he have to be honest with her? so honest to the point he was an ugly shadow threatening to suffocate the life out of her that everlock failed to?

‘you know manny should be here, not you, right?’ he'd said, starting off dead toned until he saw her breaking ---- levitating his voice with victory. ‘safiya should be here. anyone but you, but especially him, since he had a chance.’

the words ‘since there was a choice’ went unspoken, yet the damage had been dealt with expertise. and matt had turned around and stalked off, the new adorned society jacket whipping violently with the motion. 'i hate you' whispered in the darkness, not from his own pink mouth, but from the context. implication rests in everything and he's never messed up so bad. letting that linger in her head for hours while he fixed himself together. cruelty no longer shines on him when he cautiously steps up to her door. only veiled tired eyes that look too swollen, lips set in a permanent frown, and rainflowers resting oddly in his arms. cradled like a newborn baby. not the first time he's brought a beautiful lady flowers! what's original this time around, however, is the fact he's going to apologize for not leaving certain words unsaid. and for, erm, bringing up her dead best friend solely to use against her … yup, that definitely takes a 'never done before' spot. there's fawn hair poking out of place from the clearly haphazard way he's applied his gel ; honestly, what a complete mess. the former detective is miserable and it shows all over his lean form.

how do you say sorry for things already said? matt's never apologized much before. pride worn tightly, proudly. he lets things fester and does his best to move on, convinced he did all he could. but after losing so many people after opening his big mouth, he can't handle the idea of losing the former troublemaker too. as much as he wants to not need her, he knows he does. thinking of her makes his soul ache, wriggling uncertainly in his body. being away from her is more tortuous than being stuck with her. if something happens to her, matt … doesn't want to think of what he'd do. especially if the last things he said were … that.

( don't leave me don't leave me, please don't go anywhere i can't follow, nikita ---- )

knuckles rasp against the door. knock knock knock! being made of sensitive skin isn't as fun as you'd think, since matt feels the sting the moment the act's over with. withdrawing his hand to cling to the rainflower stems again. impatience eats him alive when he's not answered fast enough, and with an impulsive quickness he reaches that very arm out once more to twist the handle. is this place hers? was she so utterly confident in her abilities to leave it unlocked? they'd have to discuss safety precautions later. for now …

“hi, hello, um,” sputters matthew, suddenly feeling so self conscious when he's face to face with her. “you weren't answering quickly, and i got worried ----” he lies, stopping midway through to swallow.

he slowly pushes the flower towards her, keeping eye contact even if it hurts. “we didn't really finish our talk earlier since i ran away, so i thought, hey! it deserves an ending. we both need all the closure we can get so … i'm sorry. for earlier.”

unbeknownst to him, matthew doesn't know how much he's downplaying this in an attempt to breeze by it. he's always been rather horrible at confrontation. aftermaths especially.

he's rarely stuck around for those.

[candlelight27]

Chapter 5: This Moment Lost in Time

Summary: Sylvain has been ignoring you since you met him. You had been in love with him since you met him. College is about to offer you a fresh start. New academic year, new life. You were ready to forget him. But fate seems to have other plans… (COLLEGE AU)

Series: Seeking Your Warmth If Only For A Day

Warnings: BLOOD, game spoilers and felony (don’t steal, kids)

Pairings: Sylvain Jose Gautier x Female Reader

Word Count: 5143

AO3: This Moment Lost in Time

A/N:  Thanks to @galamixx and their help!!! If you like this chapter, please consider commenting. My inbox is always open too, for suggestiong or just to chat! :)

You put a hesitant foot in Sylvain’s room, walking right behind him as he guided you. It was an ample space and it had a window that let the sunshine inside in the morning. The decoration was quite simple. The bed, placed under the window, was covered in white linen, and the walls were bare, without any pictures or posters. Its appearance broke your every expectation of what you had thought his room would be like.

You were surprised you couldn’t find anything that screamed ‘Sylvain lives here’, or any hint at all of his renowned affairs. You chastised yourself for thinking he’d have a box filled with panties he had stolen, or obscene magazines thrown around. He was now a close friend – perhaps something more, but your brain was trying to avoid that subject at the moment – so you’d have to stop assuming things about him. Especially regarding the high number of misconceptions you’ve had about him. Yet the truth was that you would have never suspected that he lived in such an austere manner. You began to understand how he got along with Dimitri so well.

Despite the absence of luxuries, there was something that caught your eye: the quantity of books he owned. His desk and shelves were crammed, and there were even a few piles over the floor. You identified in a glance some history titles, as well as fiction and philosophical essays. It was quite the collection for someone most people considered an airhead – a thought that made you slightly angry at those people.

“Sit wherever you want,” Sylvain commented. You sat on the bed, while he moved to take a seat on the chair in front of his desk. He carefully placed on the floor a board of chess, trying not to move any pieces. It was incomplete, with only a handful of blacks and whites. You wondered if Sylvain was trying to solve one of those problems that he used to do with Claude back in high school. Afterwards, Sylvain placed his hands behind his head and leant back. You looked around nervous, absentmindedly caressing the bed dressing with your fingertips, avoiding by all means ogling him.

“You have a nice room,” you said. This was awkward, and you didn’t know what to say. You felt once again you were invading his privacy by simply being there. And you were on his bed, where he slept. It felt very personal, and you were not sure if it was your place to be there.

“Not what you expected for someone like me, right?”, he hummed. You feared that he actually was able to read your mind after that line.

“How is Glenn?”, you changed the subject, hoping Sylvain wouldn’t notice.

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s conscious and recovering. Apparently, when he was going to work, a dog crossed the road and he crashed the car avoiding it.” Sylvain drew out a breath. “Honestly, I’m so relieved he’s alive.”

“That gives us time to proceed with our plan. But then again, Flayn is onto whatever is happening. It’s not just paranoia, there must be a clue somewhere,” you reflected.

You had a few days to come to terms with Sylvain’s crazy theories after that encounter with Flayn at the hospital. As if fate had been mocking you, you had even more visions of your classmates in times of war, which only reinforced Sylvain’s words. You started writing down the smallest details you could recall, hoping they’d be of help to clarify something. Anything. And you realised some names kept appearing time after time.

“I wanted to show you a few things,” Sylvain said. He turned around to look at the books opened on his desk. He moved a couple of volumes and used papers around until he chose one. The sound of papers being flipped frantically came from behind you. “Here it is!”

He stood up and gave it to you, waiting a minute for you to inspect it thoroughly.

“So?” He insisted. Sylvain was eager to know your opinion. “What do you think?”

“It’s…” you opened your mouth.

“Awfully familiar?”, he offered.

“Yes”, you nodded.

It was an ancient copy of Seiros’ precepts. There you could see a coloured engraving that displayed Saint Seiros, who had an eerie resemblance to Rhea, officially in charge of Garreg Mach High School and the cathedral annexed to it. Her light green hair, her bright and big eyes, her figure. Everything was exactly the same. She had a serene countenance, and she was surrounded by dragons. Once, you were taught that they represented the strength of Seiros and the four saints, but they had so many details, they looked real.

“And that’s not the only thing!” Sylvain added before you could finish examining it. He passed you another book. “This one is Linhardt’s, but he lent it to me indefinitely. He knows a lot about Saint Cethleann, he’s investigating her figure and plans to do a PhD.”

“What am I looking for?”, you asked, tracing the index with your finger.

“Look at the pictures first. There are a couple of engravings and drawings. Just look at any.”

You did as he told you. A chill ran down your spine. 

“This is Flayn,” you babbled, totally astonished. “But, like, it’s clearly Flayn.”

“Yes!” Sylvain was thrilled.

“They have the same face,” you repeated. You looked at the bottom of the page, where a footnote was written, and read it out loud. “‘Saint Cethleann was said to possess a kind heart and devoted her life to helping others in need. That’s why she developed an interest in medicine, and she is the patron saint of those who practice the art of healing. She healed countless wounded in her life, sparking the faith in those who met her.’ Is this real?” He nodded, an amused expression decorating his face. He seemed entertained by your reaction. “It looks like a set up.”

“It’s weird that all the pieces fit together as we go, right?”, Sylvain agreed.  

“If everything is so evident, why hasn’t anyone found out anything yet?”, you exclaimed exasperated.

“We’ve gone over that before,” he sat next to you on the bed. He crossed one of his legs and was careful not to touch you with any part of his body. After all, you were not the only one self-conscious about this meeting. He had been feeling vulnerable ever since he went all in with you – it was easy to recognise.

You wanted to tell him that it was okay to have physical contact and get close to you. And that you had similar feelings for him. But neither of you had said anything after his speech, and your conversations hadn’t got that way any other time. And now it seemed that you had lost your opportunity to give him an answer; it seemed forgotten and entombed.

“Yeah, yeah. Everyone has bigger problems. Except us, apparently”, you said ironically.

“I have plenty of problems”, he said with fake seriousness.

“Oh?”, you mocked him. “I’ve never noticed.”

“One of them is no one takes me seriously”, he smirked. You felt a pang of guilt on your stomach and averted your gaze towards the book. It was shameful to admit, but you had done it several times in the past. You didn’t know he resented it.

“I wanted to try something,” Sylvain said out loud, demanding your attention. He looked flushed, but you dismissed the thought.

That’s when you remembered his cryptic messages earlier.

Sylvain (13:25): I might have come up with a thing that can be useful 😊.

Sylvain (13:25): Come home whenever you want, I’ll be here.

He hadn’t texted you as regularly as he did during the previous days, thus when his icon popped up on the screen of your phone, your heart fluttered in your chest. Should you go right away? Should you wait? There were things unsaid between you, but you had been dying to spend time with your favourite redhead. You convinced yourself that curiosity was playing a big part in your decision, and not your own emotions, so immediately answered affirmatively to his proposition.

“Yes, you mentioned that before.” You looked at him in the eye. He was blushing, you had no doubts now. And it seemed that he was out of character, because who would have thought Sylvain would be ashamed at all flirting? “What’s wrong?”

“You might not like my methods,” he shrugged.

“Sylvain!” you sighed, annoyed. “We’re way past your mysterious phase! Just tell me!”

“No need to get mad, darling,” he laughed. Then, Sylvain coughed and recomposed himself. “I thought that maybe we could trigger memories so we can investigate them. Find a common pattern.”

“Okay.”

“What was the last thing you dreamt?” He inquired carefully. Sylvain knew that some dreams were… Unfavorable.

“That horrible nightmare where I bury an axe in your chest”, you said. It made you want to cry, just the mere mention of it. Such a brutal act, why would it have happened?

“Ah, yes. That one”, he made a disgusted gesture. “You could’ve picked a nicer one.”

“How are we going to trigger the memories?”, you questioned him.

“By touching,” Sylvain answered. You raised your eyebrows. “W-Wait, not in that way!”, he stuttered while waving his arms around, as if to clear the atmosphere. Hewas trying his best to correct his accidental innuendo. “We can hold our hands, or just bump our shoulders together? We don’t have to, of course, but–”

“Sylvain, relax. I don’t mind”, you took his hand in yours to downplay the issue. That warmth that had become familiar spread throughout your skin. “Besides, it’s a good idea. It’s worked before.”

“But it’s not working now,” Sylvain complained.

“What did you think that was going to happen? Fireworks and a narrated episode of the battle of Garreg Mach?” You mocked, while he simply smirked.

The situation made your heart fly. The light outside was fading, dying the room of orange and gold. Everything surrounding you belonged to Sylvain, and you were on his bed, holding his hand in yours. It was special. A great fluttery feeling was forming in your stomach, one that made you light in the head and giggly. You shifted your body around awkwardly, without changing your position, and his grip tightened.

You noticed the muscles in his arm flexing, and his palm becoming sweaty.

“It’s not working…”, Sylvain lamented again.

“Close your eyes. Let’s focus on that memory together,” you instructed, half hoping it would work, half hoping it would prevent him from releasing your hand.

You let your eyes close. Every sensation became sharper. His touch, his presence, his smell. Everything had a distinct scent, the detergent of his clothes, his cologne, his books. - ‘Put yourself together!’ you scolded yourself and tried to envision your memory instead of focusing on Sylvain.

The large field of Gronder; the confusion of bodies, some dead, some alive; the  fresh blood; Sylvain’s horrid expression.

And, as if it was magic, it worked. You could vividly see it. The world surrounding you disappeared, and you were immersed in that moment lost in time.

The heat was suffocating, and so was the odour of burnt bodies and death. The podium where the archers had been trying to knock down the wyverns and pegasi had suddenly burned when the infantry had reached it. Many had died from all three parties: Dimitri’s, Edelgard’s and Claude’s. The flames were consuming everything on your left. Your arms stung out of tiredness, for you couldn’t even remember how long you had been there, fighting enemies.

Suddenly, you saw Sylvain. His horse was nowhere to be seen, and it saddened you. It was probably dead, too. A bad omen. You thought of the times he had insisted you rode with him, and the few times you accepted. Or when he stayed overtime to take care of the mount. You shook your head: he was now your enemy, and you had to kill him. Tears filled your eyes, and you voiced all the curses you could think of. How had everything turned into this? Where did it go wrong?

Sylvain was not aware that you were there. You traced his direction with your eyes. Was he escaping the fire? You hoped he was fleeing, but you knew him like the back of your hand. He had sworn loyalty to Dimitri and he wouldn’t leave him behind. Never. You looked far beyond.

When the realisation hit you, you started running.

He was heading towards Claude, who wasn’t riding his wyvern. Instead, he was supporting the infantry on the right flank with a sword and his bow. It was being effective in providing a much needed morale boost, but it wasn’t his brightest move. Damn him for not knowing how to keep himself safe.

Your gaze fell upon Byleth, who in this world had long hair, cuter clothes and was Jeralt’s daughter instead of his son. She had advanced more, leading the knights fighting the Adrestian forces, so she wasn’t going to save Claude, as she always did. Not this time, when she was risking her neck. You panicked, thinking about what disaster would happen if the heir to the Alliance, the only nation fighting actively against the Adrestian invasion, fell in battle.

You were almost there, axe in hand.

“Claude!”, you shouted. The Golden Deer leader realised Sylvain was about to stab him in the back, but dodged the hit just in time. Claude rolled on his side, while Sylvain’s lance got stuck in the ground.

You took advantage of this chance, arriving just a few seconds later, and with a swing of your weapon you broke the handle of his weapon in two. Moving with the momentum, your propelled the edge of the axe to Sylvain’s body. You contained your breath, wishing he would move away, that he’d escape. That you’d see him alive in the next battle, even if it meant going through another hell. Maybe you’d both survive, overcome your differences. But he didn’t move away. He stayed in place.

A lost arrow pierced your thigh. Even if you didn’t feel it at all thanks to the adrenaline pumping through your blood, it made you face reality.

Sylvain, disarmed, was on the other side of your weapon. You let go of the handle. It had cracked his armour, and his hot blood was flowing down. Sylvain fell to his knees, his face completely white.

“I’m sorry, Sylvain...” you said, as you fell backwards, unable to use your right leg due to the deep wound. He smiled but stayed completely still. Life was slowly escaping his body. You threw up on your side.

“Ignatz! Cover me!”, you heard Claude shouting. It seemed distant, while in reality he was too close. He was shouting your name, too, but your gaze was fixed on Sylvain. You couldn’t speak or move. Claude lifted you and placed you in his arms, carrying you somewhere safe. Sylvain was still alive, yet immobile. You couldn’t help thinking about him. Why was no one helping him? Is he going to die alone on the battlefield? Claude’s voice, assuring you that you were going to be alright, started to fade and his face was getting blurry…

 “Are you okay!?” Sylvain was shaking your shoulder. You were laid down on his bed and he was above you.

“Yes”, you answered, eyes open wide. You got up, and you returned to the position you had been in before on Sylvain’s bed. “What happened?”

“You’ve been gone for 5 minutes. As in, eyes opened, not responding to anything. I was about to call an ambulance.” Sylvain inspected you closely, quite worried. You could sense his breath on your skin.

“I’m fine”, you whispered, still a bit disoriented and dizzy.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Sylvain,” you called his name, his hand still on your shoulder. “What happened after you killed me? Did you see that?” Why did you want to know?

“Ah, yes. Ferdinand killed me afterwards”, he groaned. “He was avenging your death…”

“Typical of him. I’ll make sure to thank him, though. It was very thoughtful,” you joked. “What about Claude? And Dimitri?”

“They were dead too. Fallen in combat,” he said with an unsure voice. “Edelgard was the one reigning after that, or so I’ve thought. It makes sense.”

“I recall professor Byleth there, behind me. He was fighting side by side with Edelgard. They must have won.” You agreed with a gesture. “What about when we married? Was Byleth there?”

“Yes. Next to Dimitri. I think they got married too. That time, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus got the victory.” He crossed his arms, but his leg was touching yours. “What are you implying?”

“I killed you to protect Claude”, you started. The redhead knitted his brows.

“We already know that,” Sylvain commented, annoyed.

“Why are you so irritated?” You got confused why he was hasty upon mentioning Claude, until a certain thought crossed your mind. 

“No reason, just that the last thing I got to see was you in the arms of Claude.” He sighed. A smile found its way on your lips, an eyebrow raising.

“Are you jealous?” You teased him.

“Then, you got together with Claude after that. He commented something once about it,” Sylvain continued, ignoring your question. “Okay, keep going. What are you trying to say?”

“The war is between the three countries of the continent of Fódlan. And the respective leaders of each are, coincidentally, the leaders of each House at Garreg Mach – former monastery, currently a high school.” He nodded, prompting you to carry on. “When I killed you, Claude was the winner. The other countries fell and the Alliance took over. And Byleth was at his side. The same happened with Edelgard and Dimitri respectively, right? So that might indicate that Byleth is the deciding piece of the board. Depending on what side he-”, you remembered how Byleth had different appearances, “-He, she, or they pick, the events change and makes their side win the war and, ultimately, take control of Fódlan.”

“And how did that occur to you?”, he looked concerned. “It’s plausible. I’m not questioning you, but it’s quite twisted.”

“Because they are the only thing that actually changes in the war. Everything seems the same until Byleth arrives.”

“Well, you changed from Houses all the time,” Sylvain pointed out.

“Every time, to join Byleth’s class. Don’t you see it?” You tried to convince him.

“It seems logical to think that Byleth has something to do with it but we can’t be sure…”

“It’s a hunch, Sylvain,” you explained. “I’m sure we have to talk to Byleth. We will find something. This time, when I saw Byleth fighting, something clicked.”

Sylvain hugged you without a warning. He buried his head on the crook of your neck and enclosed you in his arms. Your hands rested against his chest, you trapped and unable to make a single move. The warmth surrounding you felt so warm, so comforting. Everything was going to be okay, Sylvain was there, and he won’t be gone this time.

“I’m scared that this will lead to a dead-end street. But… at last we’ve found a clue. I’ve been waiting for this forever…” He said with a strained tone. Sylvain’s voice was quiet. He didn’t want to let you go.

“It’s thanks to all your work, Sylvain. Everything you wrote was very useful…” You smiled, leaning into his embrace, almost melting. “You had noticed too Byleth was an important factor–”

“I’m just really happy you’re here with me. That you haven’t chosen Claude or Edelgard over me this time.” He chuckled, trying to shoo away the remainders of sadness. “Not gonna lie here, I’m extremely happy you didn’t choose Claude. That bastard.”

“Hey,” you reprimanded him. “Claude is nice. It’s not his fault we’re in this mess.”

“Well, he took you away from me once”, Sylvain said as he hugged you closer. “Have I told you that you married him?”

“What did you want me to do? You were dead!” You chuckled. It was weird to talk so lightly about it, but Sylvain became more comfortable the less relevant it felt. “This feels nice…”, you muttered, turning your face to kiss the top of his head. His red hair was soft, and it smelt of citrus. “So now we’re on hugging terms?”

“Yes”, Sylvain affirmed. “I might never let you go now that we crossed that line.”

“I wouldn’t mind…”

But a loud gasp resounded behind you. The tender moment that you wished would last forever was suddenly replaced with surprise.

“I’m so sorry Sylvain!” A voice shouted, someone that you identified as Dimitri. He closed the door with a slam.

Sylvain moved away, averting his eyes. His cheeks were blushing, and your own were warm too.

“I’m going to explain to Dimitri that we weren’t doing anything weird, okay?”, he scratched his head, again, and you recognised it as a gesture he made when he felt awkward. Little by little, you had been learning his non-verbal language. “I don’t want him traumatized for all his life.” You giggled.

“Does it make you nervous that Dimitri thinks we’re banging? He only saw us hugging,” You questioned daringly.

“Shut up”, he flashed his handsome smile. Flirting was an art he had mastered, and he felt confident with it. “And say that you’re staying for dinner, instead.”

“Not if you’re cooking instant noodles, Sylvain”, you narrowed your eyes. “That’s not a real dinner. You won’t trick me – I’ve seen all the packages in the cupboards.”

“First, we’re in college, and everything’s valid.” He stood up with a flourish. “Second, Dimitri had gone to the supermarket, so he’s the one cooking. It relaxes him.”

“Okay, he cooks real food. I’m staying then.”

“Perfect.” Sylvain winked, as he ran out of the room. His voice could be heard all over the apartment, and Dimitri was still stuttering. You smiled to yourself and took out your phone and opened the app to write an email.

[From: YOU - To: beisner@gmuniversity.fe]

Dear Professor Eisner,

I hope everything is fine.

Sylvain Jose Gautier and I are having a few questions regarding the bibliography of our project. We’d like to meet you next week to settle the matter and discuss some work.

Thank you very much.

“I’ve never skipped classes legally before”, commented Sylvain casually.

You two were navigating the corridors of the building where teachers had their offices. Everything was dull and generic, except for the occasional cabinets that displayed trophies and nameplates that students and professors had earned long ago.

“That’s why you were in detention all the time”, you reminded him.

“It was intentional. I wanted to strengthen my relationship with Seteth”, he said, laughing. You had to give in and laugh too, not only because he was actually funny, but because his humour was contagious. You couldn’t help but mirror it.

You eyed him from head to toe. Your companion was wearing a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. He had a dark-grey, almost black blazer with rolled up sleeves on due to the chilliness in the air. His attire rang a bell.

“Why are you dressing like we did in the Monastery?” You wondered out loud to him.

“Because I’m pretty hot in black and white”, Sylvain chuckled in delight with a deep and sexy tone. He was right. You could outline with a glance his body, which was pretty well built. Of course, you did everything you could to deny it, so you put on your best deadpan face. “Okay, okay. I think it might make Byleth nervous.”

“Now that’s a joke,” you remarked. “Byleth barely showed any emotion during a war. Do you think it takes so little to irk him?”

“You might be right,” he conceded.

“Here!” You grabbed Sylvain’s sleeve, bringing him back after he walked past the correct door.

“The nameplate says Dr. Gloucester. Do you need your eyes checked?” Sylvain emphasized.

“Dr. Gloucester retired, and they gave his office to Byleth. He told us the first day! What were you doing?”

“Okay, okay,” he rolled his light brown eyes. “You knock.”

“What are you? Five?” You said while hitting the door with your knuckles.

“Come in,” Byleth’s voice came from the interior of the office.

You opened the door to see your professor encircled by lots of papers. No one can escape bureaucracy.

You stopped in the middle of the room. Right then, you felt an extraordinary sense of existence. As if all the years that had passed before your adventures with Sylvain were but a mere dream and your consciousness had come back to you a few weeks ago. You were sure that Byleth’s presence was having its own influence on you, now that you had regained a good number of your forgotten memories. There was a strange energy in the atmosphere.

Now that you considered it, this was just like that sweet time you spent at Garreg Mach Monastery. Wandering around to avoid boredom with Sylvain and finding much more than just entertainment, following Byleth around to ask all kinds of questions, spending the big seasonal events with your friends… That was what happiness looked like to you.

“You can take a seat,” Byleth said.

“Ah, yes, thank you.” You muttered. Sylvain was next to you in those uncomfortable iron chairs your university loved buying.

“What can I help you with?” He asked, ever so willing to help, yet enigmatic.

“Ah, we have a basic bibliography for the Crescent Moon War, but we’re lacking a few good articles in Loog’s biography”, Sylvain started, replaying the topics you had agreed on. “We don’t know if the authors are reliable.”

“I can take a look at those names”, Byleth smiled. “And I have a few books you could use.”

“That’d be great!”, you cheered with a fake façade. You had to admit, it was quite fun to play spies.

“They’re on that bookcase”, your professor pointed at the one right on your side. You stood up and started looking around.

“I had a question on Klaus I, that king of Faerghus, as well. What was the role he played in…”, Sylvain asked, so serious and well versed in the matter.

You disconnected from the conversation, turning to read the titles on the wall. You took a thick, blue book filled with dust, pretending it caught your interest. Then another black volume, with leather covers and golden letters. You kept investigating, about the Almyran invasion; the formation of the Academy of Garreg Mach, the base of your own high school; history of the Adrestian Empire… Nothing past the year 1000. It was quite suspicious.

You turned around, and Byleth was drawing a diagram for a focused Sylvain, who was all nods and questions. They couldn’t see you anymore, or at least it seemed so. Out of the corner of your eye, on the closest end of the professor’s large mahogany desk, you saw a bunch of letters. Discreetly, you looked up the sender. Curly letters with the address of Rhea were written there, right from the Cathedral.

You made sure Byleth’s vision was blocked by a stack of folders. With decision and a steady hand, you took the most recent one and hid it under your clothes. Desperate situations call for desperate measures, right? Besides, it wasn’t exactly stealing, and you had already made an excuse. ‘It got misplaced when I took the books you lent me, professor,’ you heard yourself say in your head. 

“Is there anything else you need?” Byleth said, when his discussion with Sylvain was done. He clearly intended for you to leave, as it was getting late.

“No, we were going away now,” Sylvain confirmed, walking towards the door. You followed him. Yet you grew bold.

“Can I ask just one more thing?” You said to the professor right before exiting.

“Of course.” The man with the dark blue hair.

“I can’t seem to find how the Crescent Moon War influenced the later war of 1180,” you stated.

Byleth remained silent for a moment. His jaw tensed. Your heart pounded. Did you catch him?

“That’s because there wasn’t any war that year,” Byleth responded. His demeanour was calm and serious as ever. Had he been practicing?

“Oh, really?” You tried to sound candid, feigning surprise. “I’m really bad with dates! That must be it!”

“You might have confused a couple of battles with a war. The battle took place around that year, but there wasn’t any declaration of war made” Byleth declared with a tense smile.

“Sorry for the trouble!” You exclaimed at last, urging Sylvain to go out with your elbow.

You closed the door behind you, and walked fast to distance yourself from any of the offices.

“What was that?” Sylvain was shocked.

“Wait until we get out of here,” You begged.

 Once you were on the common grounds of the student buildings, you stopped Sylvain. There was nobody around, as they were still in class. The ginger plopped himself on a bench.

“That was a good shot, but you were right”, he shrugged. “Byleth’s cold blood won’t make it easy. You were right, he’s special, I could feel a kind of connection… But we got nothing out of this…”

“I might have something”, you looked at him intently.

“On the books he gave you?”, he tilted his head. “Because I have revised all the library and –”

You took the opened letter out of your blouse. The silver details shone under the light.

“What the hell!”, Sylvain shouted. You shushed him, making desperate gestures with your arms to keep him from attracting any attention. You were paranoid, even though you were alone. Instead of any logical reaction, he had a fit of laughter.

“What?” You asked, irked.

“I thought you were physically incapable of anything remotely wrong in a moral sense!” He kept laughing, despite your attempts to quiet him down. “Why did you take it? Another hunch?”

“If you don’t get caught, you don’t get punished”, you said in a sarcastic tone.

“I knew it! You’re just as bad as me!” Sylvain was delighted.

“I might be,” You admitted because, well, he was right. Stealing the mail was a serious crime. But you took a small comfort in the pride and surprise Sylvain made you feel. You were no longer your dull, old self, that went on with the flow of events. No, you had a goal – multiple goals, in fact – and you were going to be an active participant in your life.

In that moment you wanted to kiss Sylvain again. But you had other priorities.

 “Are we going to read this or not?” You dared him.

“Don’t ask me twice.”

[saiilorstars]

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters • Sequel to Stars Dance •  Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

Ch. 26: The God Complex

Fandom: Doctor Who // Pairing: 11th Doctor x OFC

Chapter summary: The travelers are stuck in a hotel hell-bent on showing them their worst fears. The Doctor's greatest fears shown to him is what finally pushes him to do something he should've done a long time ago.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother​ @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​ @stareyedplanet​ @perfectlystiles​

[If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

Avalon was sitting on mushy, green grass with her journal and pen. There was a sun, or a fake sun, shining up above in the 'sky'. There was a very visible flower scent that flooded the area with every breeze. Avalon loved the room the TARDIS had made for her, it was very...fairy-tale like. But also, it was the perfect place to attempt to write. It had only recently come up and Avalon couldn't be more thankful for the TARDIS again. She truly made life easier. The new room had been Avalon's new sanctuary to keep on drafting.

Of course, it usually only worked when a certain Time Lord wasn't around...and that was soon to end in...3...2...1...

"Gotcha!" the Doctor cheered as he took Avalon by surprise with a hug from behind.

The ginger flinched and dropped her journal and pen. She turned her head to the side and frowned, "I'm gonna slap you one of these days."

"But not today," the Doctor smirked and pressed a kiss to her lips. Afterwards, he moved over and sat down beside her, "So what are we doing on this fine morning?"

"How would you know it's morning?" Avalon chuckled, "You live in a time machine."

"Clearly because Amy and Rory were going into the kitchen for breakfast, duh," the Doctor playfully rolled his eyes.

"Don't be a smart alec with me, it'll cost you," Avalon warned and closed her journal, "Now I don't feel like being irritated in my own sanctuary."

"I would never," the Doctor mocked an offended face, making her laugh.

"I'm sorry," Avalon chuckled and set her journal down on her side. "I know I lock myself up over this thing," she nodded to the journal, "My family always got so irritated with me for it."

"I'm not upset, I was just missing you," the Doctor put an arm around her shoulders, "You're doing what you love, how can I be mad at that?"

Avalon scoffed, "As if I'm doing the thing I love. I want to be a writer but c'mon," she sighed, "We all know it's not happening, I just kid myself with this journal."

"Oi, I gave you that journal, let's not downplay its importance," the Doctor made a face, "And, not to mention, Emmalina gave you your first one, because she believed in you."

Avalon quietly picked up her journal and stared at its cover, her mind drifting off to the past, "She thought I could become one of the greatest writers in history."

"Well, it's not too late," the Doctor shrugged, "You're only 23, perfect age to begin."

"You've gotten to know me a lot better than anyone else, so you know that I'm not a very good person..."

"Let's not get into that topic," the Doctor sighed, "Because I've already told you that it's all senseless."

"No, it's not..." Avalon said quietly.

The Doctor ignored her comment and gently moved her to sit on his lap, "Okay, while I think you are completely wrong about that, I don't see any reason why you can't become a true writer."

"It's scary," Avalon sighed, "Plus, my reputation isn't all that great on Earth. Colleges literally look at everything and I've been arrested several times and I've actually gone to a juvenile detention. That alone disqualifies me, or discourages the admission. You see? There's no hope. I'm doomed to be an amateur for the rest of my life."

"Now wait a minute," the Doctor had to stop her, "Earth isn't the only place you can get some education. You're not even from Earth! You can go anywhere in the galaxy, Ava. They would look at your talent, your ambition, determination..."

"And do you think I have any of that?"

"Of course I do! All that and more," the Doctor kissed her hair, "Just say the word and we'll go and get you to see one of the professors."

Avalon lightly smiled as she thought of something, "You know, River's a professor, in the future," she raised her head to look at him, "You think she would be willing to help? Give some pointers?"

The Doctor hadn't quite thought of that, but knew right there it wouldn't be a good idea. "Ava, to contact that River right now would be far too dangerous. She'd be from way into the future and would have too much foreknowledge."

"Right," Avalon sheepishly smiled, "Guess I'd be on my own, then."

"Never, you'd have all of us, especially me," the Doctor nodded.

"It would be kind of nice," Avalon said and sighed a few seconds later. "I don't know. It's all so...new, you know? I don't know what I want to do."

"There's no rush, Ava. Take some time to think of all of your options and when you decide on something, you let me know and I'll do my best to help you."

Avalon nodded. It sounded like a good plan. She didn't want to rush into anything, especially something as important as an actual career. "You're incredible, do you know that?" She rested her head against his shoulder and smiled as she felt his arm wrap around her. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in my entire life."

"Wow, feel special now," the Doctor smiled. "Who'd known that the snappiest little girl in that sleepover would grow up and steal my hearts?"

"Mm, I had big goals," Avalon joked, "And don't call me 'snappy'. I wasn't 'snappy'. I was just making sure you weren't going to hurt my sister. But if your feelings are still hurt I'm sure there's something I can do about it now..."

"And what would that be?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow as she shifted her body to face him. She had that sneaky smile he came to love early on.

"A little of this," Avalon pecked his lips. "And a lot of this," she kissed him again but deepened it, making it so that both of them were left without air and quite dazed.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor excitedly popped his head over a staircase railing, looking down at the many spirals of the stairs below. The rest of the travelers did the same but unlike him, they were nowhere near pleased with the sight.

"'Let's go to Ravan-Skala,' he says," Amy began with a huff, ""The people are 600 feet tall, you have to talk to them in hot air balloons and the Tourist Information Centre is made of one of their hats,' he says."

"And yet, there are no such hats," Avalon finished for her and raised her head to look at the Time Lord, "You have lied and badly."

"This is just awful," Rory went ahead and added.

The Doctor looked at the three with a scowl, "Amy, Beaky—"

"I would think real hard before you nickname me," Avalon pointed a warning finger at him.

"Princess," the Doctor flashed a smile, Avalon playfully rolling her eyes as a response, "Now this could be the most exciting thing I have ever seen!"

"You're kidding," Rory shook his head.

"How can you be excited about a rubbish hotel on a rubbish bit of Earth?" Amy crossed her arms and stared at the Doctor in disbelief.

"I'm not that surprised," Avalon remarked, "He gets excited about the stupidest things."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and ignored their little remarks, "Because, assembled Ponds..."

"And Reynolds," Avalon interjected with an amused smile.

"And Reynolds," the Doctor quietly added it. It was slips like those that could create such problems for him and everyone else and yet his mouth still had the ability to continue making the error. It was just too much fun calling her a Pond. "This is not Earth. This has just been made to look like Earth. The craftsmanship involved... Can you imagine?"

"Then where are we?" Avalon grew tired of the ole mystery. Unfortunately for her, the Doctor didn't seem to agree as he led them through the staircase, returning back to where the TARDIS was parked, "Hello, Doctor?" she called again, making a face as he deeply sniffed a plant.

"I don't know," he finally answered her and turned around, "Something must have yanked us off course. Look at the detail on that cheese plant!" he excitedly pointed at the plant.

"You want me to be excited over a...plant?" Avalon raised an eyebrow and walked up to him, slowly smiling of amusement, "You're so weird," she rested her hands on his chest and chuckled, "Remember when you ate grass?"

"And you told me to never kiss you," the Doctor decided to remind her rather smugly, "Look at us now."

"Shut up," Avalon remembered that moment quite clearly. She'd never have imagined the alien who tasted blue grass and just about anything else he found intriguing would actually steal her heart.

"Um, hello?" Rory called back to them, pulling them out of their moment, "Who would mock up an Earth hotel?"

"Colonists maybe, recreating a bit of home," the Doctor thought as he turned Avalon around and wrapped his arms around her waist, "Like when ex-pats open English pubs in Majorca. No, whoever did this, I am shaking his/her hand/tentacle."

"Seriously, you get excited over the stupidest things," Avalon sighed with resignation.

Rory moved over to a wall full of photographs of various species, soon calling the attention to Amy, "Have you seen these? Look at the labels underneath," he pointed to a photograph of a Sontaran, "Commander Halke, defeat," he then moved onto a human, "Tim Heath, having his photo taken. Lady Silver-Tear... Daleks."

Amy agreed there was something strange in that and decided to look for herself, "Paige Barnes, other people's socks. Tim Nelson, balloons. Novice Prin, sabrewolves. Royston Luke Gold, Plymouth. Lucy Hayward, that brutal gorilla," she glanced over to the Doctor, "Doctor, what does it mean?

"I don't know, let's find out," the Doctor took Avalon's hand and pointed for them to start moving.

They entered the reception room where they could hear a soft tune playing in the background due to some radio player at the reception desk. The Doctor tapped a bell on the desk and immediately three people jumped from around the corner, one of them, a woman, brandishing a chair leg at them.

"Blimey, that was quick," the Doctor jumped back.

"We surrender!" cried the alien of the three strangers.

"No, it's OK, we're not..." Rory grew tensed and came up with, "We're nice!"

"She threatened me with a chair leg," the Doctor suddenly noticed and looked at the others in disbelief.

"Who are you?" the woman with the chair leg demanded.

"We're back in reception," the third of the trio took notice of the new room.

"We surrender!" repeated the alien.

"Never been threatened with a chair leg before!" the Doctor was still stuck on that, "No, I tell a lie."

"Did you just say, 'It's OK, we're nice?'" Amy had suddenly realized that and had to find out the reason for it.

"EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP!" came the loud yell of Avalon who successfully managed to quiet everyone down, "Thank you," she breathed in relief and straightened herself up. "God, sometimes…"

"Their pupils are dilated," the woman took notice of the travelers' faces.

"What?" Avalon looked at her with suspicion and confusion.

"They're as surprised as we are," the woman continued, "Besides which, if it's a trick, it'll tell us something."

"Oh, you're good," the Doctor pointed, genuinely impressed, "Oh, she's good. Amy, with regret, you're fired."

Avalon looked at him with a scowl, "Excuse you?"

"I'm kidding," the Doctor waved her off but looked at the woman and mimed holding a phone to his ear, "We'll talk," he whispered.

"EXCUSE YOU?" Avalon raised an eyebrow at him, "There'll be no 'talks'," she frowned, "Not unless you're prepared to die."

The Doctor loved when Avalon got jealous but battling it out in front of strangers wasn't exactly his idea of having fun. He tugged her to him, through struggle as she was clearly upset, and looked at the others, "I take it from the pathological compulsion to surrender, you're from Tivoli," he settled on the alien of the strangers.

"Yes, the most invaded planet in the galaxy. Our anthem is called Glory To Insert Name Here."

Avalon stopped struggling against the Doctor to glance at the alien, "That's...sad," she informed then continued to fight, mumbling a few curse words here and there.

"You with the face, Howie, you said you were surprised to be back in reception," the Doctor pointed to the young man with them.

"The walls move, everything changes," Howie struggled to say as he looked around.

"You, clever one, what's he talking about?" the Doctor had looked back at the woman in scrubs, "And what's your name?"

"Oh yes, that's working well," Avalon muttered and practically swatted his hands off her, but to no avail.

"The corridors twist and stretch, rooms vanish and pop up somewhere else," the woman explained, "It's like the hotel's alive. And, um, Rita," she was noticing the odd looks she was getting from Avalon and frankly felt a bit nervous.

"Let me go," Avalon ordered the Doctor and finally pushed him off. She rolled her eyes and jumped over the reception desk to the radio station, "New rule, this stays off all night," she glanced back at the others, "It's giving me a headache. Now, then, what were you saying about the hotel?"

"It's huge, with, like, no way out," Howie finished for Rita.

"Have you tried the front door?" Rory had to ask since the 'easiest way out' always seemed the most ignored option during their travels.

"No, in two days it never occurred to us to try the front door," Rita sarcastically replied, "Thank God you're here!"

"Oi, don't be rude to my best friend," Avalon snapped at her as she jumped on the desk again, taking a comfortable seat on it with her legs dangling.

The Doctor had taken out his sonic to scan the door and opened it to find a white brick wall, confirming Howie's statement, "They're not doors, they're walls, walls that look like doors. Door-walls, if you like, or "dwalls", "woors" even, though you'd probably got it when you said, "They're not doors." I mean, the windows are..." he moved over to a pair of curtains and flung them to the sides, only to find more wall behind, "Right, big day if you're a fan of walls."

"It's not just that," Rita quietly said, Howie and Trivol both also getting quiet, "The rooms have...things in them."

"Things? Hello! What kind of things?" the Doctor was once again excited, "Interesting things? I love things, ask anyone."

"Stupid things," Avalon remarked as she inspected her nails, clearly trying to seem disinterested.

"Bad dreams," Rita answered the question with fear evident in her tone.

"Well, that killed the mood," the Doctor's excitement faded.

"There was never a mood here," Avalon looked at him with a scowl, reminding him this hadn't even been their choice of adventure in the first place.

"How did you get here?" the Doctor focused on the problem at hand.

"I don't know, I'd just started my shift," Rita shrugged, "I must have passed out, because suddenly I was here."

"I was blogging, next thing, this," Howie gestured to the room.

"Oh, I was at work, I'm in town planning," the alien went next, "We're lining all the highways with trees, so invading forces can march in the shade."

"Still very sad," Avalon whispered to him.

"Which is nice for them," the alien continued, ignoring the comment.

"Yeah... So what have we got?" the Doctor reviewed the information they'd just gotten, "People snatched from their lives and dropped into an endless, shifting maze that looks like a 1980s hotel with bad dreams in the bedrooms. Well, apart from anything else, that's just rude."

"Says the rudest alien I've ever met," Avalon hopped off the desk with a clean smirk, "Now then, can we please get out of here? This hotel is creeping me out..." the Doctor agreed and reached to take her hand but she put them behind her back and sharply looked at him, "Under probation," she announced and headed off.

The Doctor made a face and looked at Amy and Rory, "Dare I ask what that even means?"

"Em, no," Amy shook her head and went off after Avalon, motioning for the others to do the same.

"See when Ava went out on dates she designated them as 'under probation'...and then she never saw them again," Rory decided to inform the Time Lord and had to hide his teasing smirk. It wasn't often he got to do that and since the Doctor had practically done that to himself, Rory figured why not?

~ 0 ~

As the group was coming up the staircase, the Doctor explained the plan to them all, "We'll pop back to the TARDIS, I'll do a planet-wide diagnostic sweep, then we'll have a sing song..." he trailed off when they'd reached the space in which the TARDIS was supposed to be in.

"And the TARDIS is gone," Avalon sighed, not very surprised as well, "Cos you parked it here, didn't you?"

"What's a TARDIS?" Howie looked at the travelers with confusion.

"Our way out," Rory groaned and held his head in his hands, "And it's gone!"

And suddenly, the music Avalon had shut off in the reception room played soothingly over the speakers.

"Okay, this is bad," the Doctor declared, "At the moment, I don't know how bad, but certainly we're three buses, a long walk and eight quid in a taxi from good. Are there any more of you?" he looked at Rita for the answer.

"Joe, but he's tied up right now," Rita leaned on the rail of the stairs, her eyes drifting to the side.

"Doing what?" the Doctor asked her.

"No, I mean he's...tied up right now," Rita made a face as the group realized her words now.

~ 0 ~

And Rita's words were proven true when the group entered the dining room that contained Joe strapped to a chair at one of the tables, identical laughing dummies surrounding him at the other tables.

"This is beyond creepy," Avalon breathed as she looked from one dummy to another, feeling even worse when the dummies all stopped laughing to turn their heads to them. "Oh yeah, we're definitely in a scary movie."

The Doctor went straight for the tied man, determined to figure out what was going on, "Hello, I'm the Doctor."

The man didn't seem quite there as he made a response, "You're going to die here."

"Well, they certainly didn't mention that in the brochure. Is Joe there?" the Doctor reached for a chair, "Can I have a quick word?"

"Oh, it's still me, Doctor, but I've seen the light. I lived a blasphemous life, but he has forgiven my inconstancy, and soon...he shall feast."

"Well, you've been here two days," the Doctor reminded, "What's he waiting for?"

"We weren't ready. We were still raw."

"But now you're what? Cooked?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, suddenly lost.

"If you like," Joe shrugged then smiled, "Soon you will be, too," he assured, "Be patient. First...find your room."

"My room..." the Doctor followed.

"There's a room here for everyone, Doctor. Even you."

"You said you'd seen the light now."

"Nothing else matters anymore. Only him. It's like these things. I used to hate them! They make me laugh now," Joe had a laugh with the dummies, "Gottle o' geer! Gottle o' geer! You should go. He'll be here soon."

The Doctor stood up with a fake smile and grabbed a hand dolley to put under Joe's chair, "I think you should come with me."

~ 0 ~

The group returned to the reception room where the music was once again playing in the background. The Doctor was looking at the four strangers with curiosity, "Why you four? That's what I don't understand. Aside from all the other things I don't understand," he mused while he shut the music off.

"What does it matter?" Gibbis shook his head, "Sooner or later, someone will come along and rescue us. Or enslave us."

Avalon stared at him in utter awe, "That's the spirit," she remarked sarcastically.

"Okay, look, first we find the TARDIS," the Doctor said then wagged a finger at all of them, "If you feel drawn to a particular room, do not go in, and make sure someone else can see you at all times."

"Joe said 'he' will feast. Is there something here with us?" Rita wondered nervously while looking at Joe who was still nowhere with them in mind-terms.

Joe laughed after the question had been asked and so the Doctor glanced at him, "Something to add, Joe?"

"Here comes a candle to light you to bed, here comes a chopper to chop off your head," the man started saying, "Chop, chop, chop, chop."

"Can we do something about him?" Howie put a hand on his head as he tried ignoring Joe's words.

'I'm all over it," Avalon raised a hand as she moved to the desk, hopping on it and reaching underneath to pull out black dutch tape, "Put it on," she chucked it to Howie then looked at Joe, "He's saying stupid stuff I'd rather not hear."

And so, after Joe was taped over the mouth, they all headed for the hallways in an attempt to find the TARDIS.

"Personally, I think you've got the right idea," Gibbis said to Joe as he pushed the man's chair, "Times like this, I think of my old school motto, "Resistance Is Exhausting."

"I've worked out where we are," Howie announced to Rory.

"Hmm?" Rory looked at him.

"Norway."

"Norway?"

"You see, the US government has entire cities hidden in the Norwegian mountains. Earth is on a collision course with this other planet, and this is where they're going to send all the rich people when it kicks off."

"Amazing," Rory blinked.

"It's all there on the internet."

"No, it's amazing you've come up with a theory even more insane than what's actually happening."

The group was stopped when an older man came out of a room in front of them, "Have you forgotten your PE kit again?" the teacher looked at the Doctor, "Right, that's it, you're doing it in your pants!"

The Doctor shook off the odd moment and turned to see Howie nearing a door, "Hey! Don't!" he ran, even the group shifting to try and stop Howie.

The door to the room was opened and allowed the others the sight of young women looking like they were at a party. They all looked over and started laughing when they saw Howie, "Oh, look, girls, it's H-H-H-Howie!"

"What's "loser" in K-K-K-Klingon?" one of the girls asked then laughed again.

Howie backed away from the door, "Shut the d-d...the-the door!" the Doctor did as told, "This is just some m-m-messed-up CIA stuff, I-I-I'm telling you."

"You're right," the Doctor agreed with him in an attempt to calm him, "Keep telling yourself that. It's a CIA thing, nothing more..." he looked at the others and nodded for them to keep moving.

They reached a hallway that was in rather odd conditions. The Doctor looked at one of the walls with light sconces and plaster scraped off. Avalon found a paper on the floor and bent down to get it.

"Guys?" Rory had taken a double look at a fire exit that stood big and proud several feet away from him.

However, the growl of the beast grabbed everyone's attention and made everyone save Rory gather around.

"OK, whatever that is, it's not real, yeah?" Avalon questioned the Doctor, though she wasn't very convinced herself.

"No, no, I'm sure it isn't," the Doctor took her hand yet still backed away with her, "But just in case, let's run away and hide anyway. In here," he reached for a room and flung the door open, motioning for the others to get in while Rita took herself and Joe into another room.

"You liar," Avalon snapped at the Doctor.

"What? I can't try and make my Ava feel better?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh shut up," she looked around him to where Rory was, "Oi, Rory! C'mon!" Rory was trying to find the fire exit that had mysteriously disappeared on him, "Rory!"

"Ava, please, get inside," the Doctor tried pushing her into the room.

"No, not without Rory," Avalon struggled against him, "Please?"

The Doctor groaned and turned for Rory, "COME ON!" he shouted for the human frantically. When Rory finally started coming towards them, the Doctor got Avalon inside the room and a couple seconds he and Rory followed.

"Aiiee!" the Doctor nearly fell over when he saw two Weeping Angels statues in the room facing them.

"Don't...blink," Amy was staring dead hard at the Angels and practically forcing Howie to do the same since Gibbis was cowering inside a cupboard on the side of the room.

"They're gonna get us," Avalon breathed as the lights flickered and the Angels changed positions.

"Ava, get back," the Doctor grabbed her arm while Rory took Amy's, "Why haven't they gotten us yet?"

"Do you really think we should be questioning that?" Avalon would've given him a look if the Angels were taking up her attention, "Why not 'oh, how can we get out of this?'.

The Doctor moved in front of her as he went towards the statues. Nervously, he tried touching one only to realize they weren't even real Angels, "They're not real," he said to the others.

"What?" Amy frowned, still not taking her eyes off the statues.

"They should have got us by now," the Doctor turned to Amy, "Amy, look at me, focus on me. It's your bad dream, that's all."

"I don't even think they're for us," Rory finally realized as the lights flickered again but the statues remained in place.

Avalon made a face as she looked around, "But if it's not Amy, then who's the room for—" she didn't get to finish her question when Gibbis let out a sharp scream from the cupboard and shut the door, answering her question right there and then.

The Doctor heard the steps of the beast getting closer so he went for the door, confusing the others.

"Doctor, what are you doing?" Amy had to ask, wondering what kind of plan he was forming to save them.

"I'm sorry, I just have to see what it is. I just have to see," the Doctor apologized and peered through the peephole in the door, finding the shadow of the beast on the other side, "Oh, look at you... You are beautiful..." he gasped when the beast suddenly stood on the other side staring right at him, "Oh, dear..." he cautiously stepped back.

"It's on the other side, isn't it?" Avalon assumed with a sigh.

"That...may be a possibility," the Doctor slowly went for the door again.

"And looking back at it again would make things better, how exactly?" Avalon grew nervous as he stared through the peephole. That door was just a door and if the beast wanted to it could take it down, the Doctor being the first one to go down with it.

"I think it's going after Joe," the Doctor announced as the beast started heading off. Once he thought they were safe, he opened the door and peered out into the hall, seeing the body of Joe being dragged around the corner, "Leave him alone!" he called and went after.

"No, Doctor!" Avalon moved to follow when Rory yanked her back, "No, what are you doing? We have to go help!"

Rory shook his head and gripped her arm, "The Doctor can't split himself into three to save himself, you and Joe. Stay here, okay?"

Avalon huffed and looked back in the direction the Doctor had gone off in. Even if she wanted to make a run for it, the hotel would probably shift the hallways and mess with her. She would just get lost and cause havoc.

But she knew why Rory had stopped her in the first place, they all knew.

It seemed like the Doctor's paranoia concerning their safety being completely on him had not gone away. Avalon was the first and foremost one to feel the presence of his senseless guilt. She tried and tried to make him see that everyone was responsible for themselves, as well as the fact that they were all aware of the dangers that came with traveling, but nothing worked. In the end, she, Rory, and Amy just tried to be more careful during their trips in an attempt to help the Doctor a bit.

~ 0 ~

Joe's body had been placed on a small dais in the dining room and was being scanned by the sonic, meanwhile the rest of the group was a bit dispersed through the room trying to get over the happenings.

Amy and Rory sat at a table trying to forget everything but it was harder to do than they thought. They were quietly conversing but when Avalon joined them, they stopped.

"Okay listen up," she plopped down into the empty chair. "Remember how I told you about the Doctor and his guilt? Well, it's about to overflow. We need to be careful for his sake."

"We're doing our best, believe us," Rory sighed.

"I know, just...try a little harder?" Avalon shifted in the chair only to feel something funny in her pocket. She remembered she'd stuck the scrap of paper she'd found earlier into her pocket. "Oh, wait!"

"What?" Rory watched her pull out the paper.

"I found this earlier..." Avalon mumbled as she skimmed the writing. She jumped from her chair and hurried towards the Doctor, "Doctor, look at this. I found it in a corridor, I completely forgot I had it." The Doctor quickly took it out of her hands and just as he was about to read it, she surprised him with a kiss on his cheek. "It is not all on you," she said for his puzzled face. "Please try to remember that."

The Doctor smiled at her for a moment before turning his attention to the paper. As kind as her words were, he couldn't give himself the luxury of getting distracted with her sweet kisses. There was a beast roaming the hallways and she could be its next target. He needed to get them out of there fast.

"My name is Lucy Hayward and I'm the last one left. It took Luke first. It got him on his first day, almost as soon as we arrived. It's funny. You don't know what's going to be in your room until you see it, then you realize it could never have been anything else. I just saw mine. It was a gorilla from a book I'd read as a kid. My God, that thing used to terrify me. The gaps between my worships are getting shorter, like contractions. This is what happened to the others... and how lucky they were. It's all so clear now. I'm so happy. Praise him."

"Praise him," Howie said not a moment after the Doctor had finished reading out loud.

"What did you just say?" the Doctor looked at him with surprise.

"Nothing," Howie shrugged but it was obvious he was fighting against something, "Praise him!" he nearly shouted then clapped his hand over his mouth.

"This is what happened to Joe!" Gibbis said in alarm as he rushed away from Howie.

"God, it's going to come for me now," Howie panicked while the others spoke over one another, definitely not helping the case.

"You'll lead it right here," Gibbis accused in terror.

"I won't leave you, I promise, you have my word, "the Doctor assured Howie but the young man wasn't so sure.

"I don't want to get eaten!"

"Howie, calm down!" Amy tried her hand at it as well.

"He's going to lead it right here!" Gibbis kept saying in the background.

The Doctor had enough and so activated the sonic above his head creating a high pitched noise that made everyone stop, "Thank you!"

"Don't you see? He'll lead it right here!" Gibbis was the first one to speak again.

"What do you suggest?" Rita turned to him.

"Look, whatever it is out there, it's obviously chosen Howard as its next course. Now...tragic though that is, this is no time for sentiment. I'm saying, if it were to... find him," Gibbis 'delicately' said. "It may be satisfied and let the rest of us go." Everyone looked at him in horror. "All I want to do is go home and be conquered and oppressed, is that too much to ask?!"

"You're no longer allowed to speak," Avalon declared not a minute later.

"We stay together," the Doctor announced and walked up to Gibbis, "Your civilization is one of the oldest in the galaxy. Now I see why. Your cowardice isn't quaint, it's sly, aggressive. It's how that gene of gutlessness has survived while so many others have perished. Well, not today. No-one else dies today. Right?"

"Yes..." Gibbis mouthed.

"Brilliant," and the Doctor turned back and went for Howie, "Howie, any second, it's going to possess you again," he informed as he sat the man down at a table, "When it does, I'm going to ask you some questions. Please try to answer them."

"I hope my mum's all right, she's going to be w-worried..." Howie mumbled, slowly slipping into a change that was clear through his face.

The Doctor sat across him and put on an enthusiastic expression, "Howie, you're next, we're all dead jealous, so tell us...How do we get a piece of the action? Why isn't he possessing all of us?"

"You guys have got all these distractions," Howie tapped his head while smiling in a languid way, "All these obstacles. It'd be so much easier if you just let it go, you know, clear the path."

"You want it to find you?" Avalon realized with horror, "Why? Don't you understand what it's going to do to you?"

But Howie seemed even more excited at the thought of it, "Are you kidding? He's going to kill us all! How cool is that?!"

The Doctor quietly stood and led the others away from the table, "It's as I thought, it feeds on fear. Everything, the rooms, Lucy's note, even the pictures in reception, has been put here to frighten us. So we have to resist it. Do whatever you have to, cross your fingers, say a prayer, think of a basket of kittens, but do not give in to the fear."

"OK, but what are we actually going to do?" Amy asked him curiously.

"We're going to catch ourselves a monster," the Doctor announced with a genuine smile this time.

~ 0 ~

"Can't believe we're doing this," Avalon mumbled to Rory as they stood on guard of the beast.

They were standing outside the beauty parlor of the hotel, Rory with a mop in his hands. They were waiting to lock the beast inside the room where the Doctor was, something Avalon wasn't too pleased with. Once again, she hadn't been allowed to help him because it was "too dangerous" and "she might get hurt" and all the usual crap that had taken custom to being thrown at her. Apparently, locking a door was the only thing she could do without getting hurt.

"Is it really such a surprise?" Rory countered her remark with a small smirk.

"No, as well as the fact that I'm playing guard again," Avalon rolled her eyes, "The Doctor's getting crazy with this protectiveness," she huffed.

"He's trying to keep you safe, Ava. Appreciate it."

"I do but there's a fine line and I don't want him to actually lose his mind trying to protect me, you and Amy. He's too hard on himself."

Rory could agree on that but what was he supposed to do? The Doctor was the Doctor. He long ago made his choice how to act and think. There was no changing his mind after a near thousand years of living.

"Rory, he's in!" they heard Amy's shout from the other side.

Quickly, Rory blocked the door behind them with the mop. Together, he and Avalon stayed near in case there was something else needed to be done.

"He shouldn't be there on his own," Avalon mumbled as they waited.

"Now who's overprotective?" Rory teased and nudged her side, earning a mock glare.

Avalon groaned. She hated when he made sense.

"I'm here!" Howie's voice filled the hallway, "Bring me death!"

"How did he get out?" Avalon then smacked her head, "Stupid question!" she scolded herself, "Remind me, WHY why did we leave Gibbis with him in the first place?"

"That..." Rory looked to the side, "...is a very good question."

"Mhm," Avalon groaned and went back to the door, "We have to make sure this..."

"No, no, no, no!" she managed to hear the Doctor through the other, "Ava, Rory, watch out!"

The glass of the door shattered and sent Avalon and Rory down to the floor. They missed the beast getting the mop out of the door handles to get out. A couple seconds later came the Doctor with Amy and Rita.

"Ava!" he helped Avalon sit up while Amy helped Rory, "Are you okay?"

Avalon groaned as she put a hand on her head, "Does this mean I can't even be a guard, then?"

The Doctor was slightly amused as he helped her up, "You're meant to be my princess," he pecked her lips once he made sure she was alright, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some saving to do..." He ran off after the beast to save Howie.

"What happened?" Rory looked back at the parlor where they could see basically everything shattered.

"I think we should be asking why Howie's out in the first place," Avalon shook her head, "I swear that alien is going to hear me."

"Okay, let's just go find the Doctor," Amy turned around and moved to walk. She only made it a couple steps down when she stopped and looked at a room, room 7, and instantly felt the urge to go inside.

"Amy..." Avalon was watching her curiously. Amy didn't listen and turned the knob of the door and peered inside, "Amy!" Avalon rushed down and slammed the door shut then yanked Amy back, "You shouldn't have done that. What did you see?"

"Nothing," Amy slowly got back to normal, "Nothing...I don't know, it was weird."

"C'mon," Rita called from the other side of the hallway.

Avalon sharply looked at Amy and grabbed her arm to get back with the others. They found the Doctor kneeling by Howie's body, instantly knowing the man was dead.

From around the corner, Gibbis showed himself, meekly speaking, "He got free. He overpowered me," the Doctor ignored him as he strode back to the others, "It might leave us alone now. Maybe now we'll be safe. Wait!"

~ 0 ~

The Doctor stood in front of the wall pictures they'd looked at earlier, specifically Howie's. Rory came to join him and immediately the Doctor had to wonder, "Have you found your room yet?"

"No, no," Rory shook his head, "And neither has Ava. I have to wonder, though, is that good or bad?"

"I believe the phrase went 'Avalon Reynolds does not get afraid'," the Doctor smiled, "Maybe she got that from you."

"I used to be afraid," Rory shrugged, "But then...after all the time I spent with you in the TARDIS, what was left to be scared of?"

The Doctor sharply looked at him, "You said that in the past tense."

Rory was silent for a few seconds until a sigh slipped through. "My family. River's out there, in prison, and we have Avalon here but...she's already gotten so hurt. My biggest fear now is what could happen to my family."

The Doctor swallowed hard. That could directly be linked to him. "I'm trying to keep everyone safe…"

"I know," Rory turned to him. "But it's like Avalon said, not everything is on you. Sometimes things happen and no one can prevent them."

The Doctor could only nod but to believe him right now was a difficult task. He instead moved away from the wall to go meet the others. On his way, he met Rita halfway there. "Rita! Brilliant! How are you? Not panicking, are you?" But he didn't wait to hear the answer when he continued, "Good, good. Because I am literally an otter's toenail away from getting us out of here."

"Why?" Rita finally managed a word in.

"Excellent question," the Doctor acknowledged but instead went around her, "Excellent question," he remarked but stopped once he realized he had no idea what she meant, "Why what?"

"Why is it up to you to save us? That's quite a God complex you have there."

The Doctor looked down to where Avalon and Amy were downstairs, "I brought them here," he said quietly, "They'd say it was their choice, but offer a child a suitcase full of sweets and they'll take it. Offer someone all of time and space and they'll take that, too. Which is why you shouldn't. Which is why grown-ups were invented."

"All of time and space, eh?" Rita called as the Time Lord continued his way down.

"Oh, yeah," he glanced back, "And when we get out of this, I'll show you, too."

Rita laughed, "I don't know what you're talking about. But I have a feeling you just did it again."

The Doctor nodded then noticed a security camera up on the corner, " Right down to the smallest detail. Got you, Mr Minotaur..." he dashed down the stairs and made note to head to the cameras' room.

Avalon was hurrying down the stairs with Amy and Rory, all trying to locate a missing Rita, when suddenly Avalon stopped in a hallway. She didn't know why but...something stopped her. She took a few steps forwards, ignoring Amy's and Rory's call back at the staircase to follow them. They'd continued on without her.

Suddenly, all the doors on both sides of her faded so that only one door stood out. Number 51. Her feet moved and before she even registered what she was doing, her hand found the doorknob and pushed the door open.

The room was a bright white with a medical bed and the standard IV pumps: a hospital room. Avalon saw a woman's back as she sat on the bed holding an infant in her arms. There was a nurse waiting for the woman on the side.

"What will you name her, ma'am?" the nurse inquired.

"Don't care," the mother answered rather coldly.

It certainly took the nurse by surprise. "Excuse me?"

Avalon could see the mother's head rising to meet the nurse. "I said I don't care. She's a nuisance. I don't want her here, I don't need her, so if you could just..." The mother held the infant out for the nurse.

"Ma'am, this is really unusual," the nurse was flabbergasted. "Are you sure you don't want to think about naming-"

"I don't care!" the mother snapped. "I don't want her! Take her! Put her up for adoption or something!"

"But I-I don't...ma'am if this is really what you want, we need a name-"

The mother groaned. "You want a name? Fine! Go with, uh, Avalon! There! You got a name, now take her away!"

Avalon watched as the nurse pulled the pink blanket from the infant's face to reveal a soft tuft of orange hair. Her breath hitched. That was her?

"TAKE HER!" The mother yelled at the nurse, making the woman jump in her spot. "God! Not even her father wanted her and I am not going to be stuck with her! GO!"

The nurse jumped one more time before rushing out of the room...right past Avalon.

"That can't be me..." She said as if she was trying to convince herself.

At the sound of her voice, the mother looked back and though Avalon met her gaze, she couldn't say that she remembered the woman at all. But she knew the look of hatred when she saw one.

The mother's face contorted with utter loathing. "Don't tell me it's you! God! What the hell do I have to do to get away from you? Haven't you taken the hint already?"

Tears pooled in Avalon's eyes as the woman kept shouting at her to leave the room. "You can't...you can't hate me..."

The mother barked a sardonic laugh. "I do! because you were a nuisance from the start! From the moment that I knew you existed! I knew you that you were going to be a waste of space and I decided that I didn't need that in my life. You could be someone else's burden!"

"But I'm your daughter," Avalon barely choked the words out. She felt like she couldn't breathe and suddenly she really wished she could have a hug from that woman. Her mother.

"You're a waste in the world," the mother snapped. "You were born to cause trouble. I had the right idea to get out before you hurt me. Tell me, have you hurt anyone in your life?"

Avalon blinked once and suddenly she was no longer in a hospital room. There was a breeze and sand and water...and a gunshot. An astronaut had fired at the Doctor until he was dead on the ground.

"NO!" Avalon screamed at the top of her lungs and ran forwards.

'Have you hurt anyone in your life?' The wicked mother repeated over and over. 'Have you hurt anyone in your life?'

The astronaut pulled off its helmet just as Avalon came to a stop beside the Doctor's body. It was her. It was a straight, emotionless her who turned away and disappeared.

"I didn't mean to, I wouldn't..." Avalon hands went back and forth while she decided whether or not to touch him. "I wouldn't hurt you, I wouldn't hurt you..."

She just couldn't, not him, never him.

~ 0 ~

In the dining room once again, the remaining group sat in a dispersed manner contemplating their next move, all in the meanwhile the Doctor was finishing up a rather big tantrum. To say he was unhappy would be the understatement of the year. Three people were dead and the next one could be anyone and so far he had nothing to save them. This was becoming a running theme for him and his good streak of luck could end at any moment. This time could be the time he loses someone, Amy, Rory, or Avalon. It always happens, at some point something has to happen.

Avalon cleared her throat, pushing aside her own turmoil at the moment to focus on the big picture. She didn't want him to find out about her room. "I may be temperamental but even I know throwing things isn't going to help," she said quietly. The Doctor gave a small nod and took her extended hand, "So why don't we review, instead?" she offered and looked around, "We know the beast preys on people's fear and possesses them."

"But Rita wasn't afraid, she was brave and calm," the Doctor said in pure frustration, "Maybe it's something to do with the people, some connection between the four of you that'll tell me how to fight it."

"Yes. You keep saying that, but you never do. And while we wait, people keep dying," Gibbis remarked in irritation, "And we'll be next!"

"Look, he'll work it out, he always does," Amy spoke up, "Just let him riff and move anything expensive out of his way."

"Oh, nice, Amy, support the tantrums," Avalon threw her a mock-scolding face.

"We support yours," Amy countered with a small smirk.

"Hey!"

While the two gingers went back and forth, something had sparked inside the Doctor's head, something of Amy's, "Oh, no. Oh, no, no..." he started repeating.

Avalon looked at him, worried, "What? What is it?"

"It's not fear. It's faith. Not just religious faith, faith in something," he got to thinking and even pacing, "Howard believed in conspiracies, external forces controlling the world. Joe had dice cufflinks and a chain with a horseshoe. He was a gambler. Gamblers believe in luck, an intangible force that helps them win or lose. Gibbis rejected personal autonomy and is waiting for the next batch of invaders to tell him what to do. They all believe there's something guiding them, about to save them. That's what it replaces. Every time someone was confronted with their most primal fear, they fell back on their most fundamental faith," he sat on a barstool and rubbed his face as he realized, "And all this time, I've been telling you to dig deep. Find the thing that keeps you brave. I made you expose your faith. Show them what they needed."

"But why us? Why are we here?" Rory frowned in confusion.

"It doesn't want you. That's why it kept showing you a way out. You're not religious or superstitious, so there's no faith for you to fall back on."

"Me?" Amy was next to frown, disliking what had just been said, "Why me? Why not her?" she glanced at Avalon.

"It seeks out the strongest faith," the Doctor explained but Avalon interrupted him with the revelation that she had seen her own room as well. It seemed like hiding it wouldn't be happening anymore.

"I saw it," she whispered, eyes downcast. "It was there...number 51."

"Oh Ava," the Doctor immediately came to her and wrapped her up in his arms. She wanted him to hold her as tight as possible. "I'm so, so sorry," he whispered to her. He wouldn't ask what she saw just as he hoped that she would never ask what he saw in his own room.

"Okay but if Avalon saw a room too...how do you know it didn't bring us here because of her?" Amy had to ask just for the sake of clarity. She would much rather have the beast come for her instead of Avalon.

"Because I don't have a strong faith system," Avalon said. "I don't believe in hope very much. I'm like you, Amy, in that I know my Fairy Tale Man will always try to save me but I also know that he's not always able to do everything. That would just be unrealistic." She leaned her head against the Doctor's chest. He tries his best, though."

"I will always try," he whispered to her.

"Okay, so...what's going on with me then?" Amy questioned, swallowing hard now that she was next on the list of the hunted. "

"It's your faith in me," the Doctor sighed and looked at Amy who was staring at him in horror, "That's what brought us here."

"But why do they lose their faith before they die and start worshipping..."it"?" Rory inquired.

"It needs to convert the faith into a form 'it' can consume. Faith is an energy, the specific emotional energy the creature needs to live. Which is why at the end of her note, Lucy said..."

"Praise him," Amy said, and finished.

"Exactly," the Doctor nodded and for a moment no one realized what...

"Did she just...?" Avalon's eyes widened.

"No. Oh, please, no," Rory stood up from his chair and moved to Amy, and already they could hear the beast coming for her.

~ 0 ~

Now the group ran as fast as they could down the hallways, away from the beast who wasn't that far away. Amy suddenly stopped and turned to face the beast.

"Amy?" the Doctor had noticed and looked back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Avalon hissed, "Get over here now!"

"He is beautiful," Amy hadn't heard a word as she gazed upon the beast getting closer.

"Leave her! Just leave her!" Gibbis nearly begged as he backtracked.

The Doctor and Rory hurried over to Amy and dragged her away. They ran into a room that happened to be Amy's. Inside was her younger self sitting on her suitcase as she waited and watched the window, simulating the night she had waited for the Doctor.

"Boy does that bring back memories," Avalon blinked. To think, she had scolded Amy for being so naive for waiting for an alien that they would probably never see again. Now look where they were?

Amy knelt to the floor with her hands on her head, "Doctor, it's happening. It's changing me, it's changing my thoughts."

The Doctor looked around the room in desperation, Avalon and Rory were trying to keep the door shut and Gibbis was cowering once more. He had to do something, and that something would cost him. Slowly, he knelt beside Amy, "I can't save you from this, there's nothing I can do to stop this."

She looked at him in confusion, "What?"

"I stole your childhood and now I've led you by the hand to your death. But the worst thing is, I knew. I knew this would happen. This is what always happens."

"It's in!" Avalon cried as the beast swung open the door of the room.

"Forget your faith in me," the Doctor insisted to Amy, flinching as the beast growled at the doorway, "I took you with me because I was vain, because I wanted to be adored. Look at you. Glorious Pond. The girl who waited for me. I'm not a hero. I really am just a mad man in a box. And it's time we saw each other as we really are," he kissed Amy's forehead and smiled at her, "Amy Williams. It's time to stop waiting," he stood up and watched the beast stumble back into the hall.

As the beast fell to the floor, the lights began flickering, the room changing into a darker one with just a control panel and the TARDIS.

The Doctor moved over to the beast and knelt down by it, "I severed the food supply. Sacrificing their faith in me. I gave you the space to die. Shhh, shhh."

"What is this place?" Avalon looked around in awe.

"The real location we've been in this whole time," the Doctor looked around as well, "A ship, a prison ship."

"And what is it, a minotaur?" Amy looked at the beast, "Or an alien? Or an alien minotaur? That's not a question I thought I'd be asking this morning."

"It's both, actually," the Doctor walked to the control panel and checked the screen for any information, "Yeah. Here we go. Distant cousin of the Nimon. They descend on planets and set themselves up as Gods to be worshipped. Which is fine, until the inhabitants get all secular and advanced enough to build bonkers prisons.

"Correction. Prisons in space," Rory pointed to the porthole he and Gibbis were looking through.

"Where are the guards?" Avalon asked.

"No need for any. It's all automated," the Doctor gestured to the controls, "It drifts through space, snatching people with belief systems and converts their faith into food for the creature."

"It didn't want just me," Amy decided to point out, "So, you must believe in some god or someone, or they'd have shown you the door, too. So, what do Time Lords pray to?"

But of course, the Doctor had acted as if the question had not been asked, "According to the in-flight recorder, the program developed glitches. It got stuck on the same setting, the fears from the people before us weren't tidied away."

Avalon turned to the beast as it growled, "It's still alive...but what's it saying?"

The Doctor listened in as he moved closer to the beat again, "An ancient creature, drenched in the blood of the innocent, drifting in space through an endless, shifting maze. For such a creature, death would be a gift," he knelt down and put a hand on the beast, "Then accept it. And sleep well," he stood up and started his way back to the TARDIS with the others when the beast growled again.

"I wasn't talking about myself."

That alone was the making of a big decision.

~ 0 ~

Later that same day, Avalon was rummaging through her room frantically. It wasn't until there was a knock on her door that she finally halted, "Come in!" she gave the shout and continued her search.

The Doctor stepped inside and watched her for a moment, "What...are you doing?"

"I can't find my journal!" she sighed in irritation as she slammed shut a drawer from her vanity desk, "The thing's gone! Disappeared!" she rubbed the side of her head, "You wouldn't have happened to see it, did you?" her tone was full of hope.

"Now that you mention it, yeah, I think so. In the console room," the Doctor held a hand for her, "Want to come and search there?"

"Yes," she nodded and took his hand, "I don't understand, I know I left it in my room. I put it on my desk on the first drawer. How could it get into the console?"

"You probably just forgot," the Doctor shrugged, "No big deal."

Avalon scoffed, "This coming from the man who loses it completely when his screwdriver isn't in his pocket."

"Oi, it's valuable!"

"Well, so is my journal," Avalon concluded. As soon as they entered the console room Avalon started searching frantically again, missing the sad stare the Doctor was giving her all the meanwhile, "I don't see it, are you sure you saw it around here?"

"Uh, yeah, silver book," the Doctor nodded, "Definitely in here..."

Avalon made a face and sighed as she continued looking around. She was getting agitated that her journal wasn't showing up. She couldn't just lose it!

"Ava," the Doctor recognized her angry face and he definitely didn't want for her to be angry now. He slowly moved around the console for the ginger, "Ava?"

"Hm, what?" she muttered while looking.

"Don't be upset, please."

"How can I not be!?" Avalon growled as she stopped the search, "You gave me that journal, you spent time on it for me...and I lose it? No! I have to find it, I'll find it, I promise."

The Doctor smiled and put a hand under her chin, "Don't worry so much."

"How can I not? Not only is it my prized possession but it's also a sentimental gift from you," she said quietly, "I don't want you to think that I'm careless about it."

The Doctor had to laugh at that one, "You? Careless about your journal? Ava, I could never think that. If there is one thing you care for it's that journal. Sometimes I think you care more for it than your own life!"

"It's special..." Avalon mumbled with a small pout on her face for being laughed at.

"But none more special than you," the Doctor gave her a peck on the lips, "And, just a note, you are very special."

"Shut up," she blushed lightly.

"Why? I'm saying the truth," the Doctor put an arm around her waist and brought her up against him, "Ava doesn't like hearing praises about herself?" he chuckled as she blushed even deeper.

He was going to miss that.

"You just love messing with me, don't you?" Avalon groaned.

"Don't you do the same to me?"

"Yes...but it's cute when I do it," Avalon innocently shrugged, "And besides, usually when I do it you get one of these," she kissed him, "So everyone wins."

"Everybody wins?" the Doctor raised an eyebrow, "Just like that?" Avalon nodded with a clean smile on her face, making him chuckle again, "You're so adorable. I..." he slowly wrapped his other arm around her as well and leaned closer to her.

"You what?" she asked in anticipation.

The Doctor raised a hand to rest on her cheek and gazed at her for a minute, taking note of all her features to remember them perfectly when she was...

"Doctor?" Avalon asked again, "You what?"

But the Doctor didn't answer as instead he chose to kiss her. Satisfied with the alternative, Avalon fell into the kiss. Gently, the Doctor turned her around and leaned her on the console, deepening the kiss. Avalon had never felt a kiss like that and if she hadn't been so into it she would've questioned it.

"Where did that come from?" she finally took a breath after they'd pulled away. "And how can I get that to happen again?"

The Doctor laughed lightly. "You have no idea the power you have over me." He rested his forehead against hers, bringing up a finger to stroke over her cheek. "You're my princess, my Ava. I love you."

Avalon smiled. "I love you too, Fairy Tale Man."

They both heard footsteps coming from the corridors and looked in time to see Amy and Rory walking out.

"Ah, glad you're both here," the Doctor straightened up and took Avalon's hand, "I have a surprise for you two," he looked at the human pair.

"You do?" Amy raised an eyebrow, confused. She thought with the trip earlier all he would want to do was stay inside the TARDIS.

"You'll like it," he assured as he turned for the console and started setting in coordinations, gripping Avalon's hand tighter than ever as he knew what was coming.

~ 0 ~

The group stepped out into a sunny, calm, Earth, street. There were colorful townhouses in a row across them with a park on the other side.

"Don't tell me. This isn't Earth, that isn't a real house," Amy nodded to one of the houses they were approaching, "And inside lives a goblin, who feeds on indecision."

"Good one," Avalon laughed.

"Nope. Real Earth, real house," the Doctor tossed Amy a set of keys, "Real door keys!"

"You're not serious?" Amy looked between him and the keys.

"The car too?" Rory was hypnotized with the bright red car in front of them, "But that's my favorite car! How did you know that was my favorite car?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes as he reminded Rory, "You showed me a picture of it once and said, 'That's my favorite car'," he tossed Rory the car keys.

"Wait a minute..." Avalon was slowly putting pieces together, at least in regards to Amy and Rory, "...you're doing this be-" but the Doctor placed a finger over her lips.

"We'll talk," he gave a smile, a fake one, "Can I have a word with Amy, first?"

"Okay..." Avalon whispered and nodded. The Doctor gave her a small kiss and turned her for the house that now belonged to her grandparents.

"I'll go with her, there's a tone to celebrate," Rory happily said but stopped beside the Doctor before actually leaving, "Now, Amy's probably going to we can't accept this because it's too extravagant and we'll always feel a crippling sense of obligation," he looked over his shoulder to Amy, "It's a risk I'm willing to take!" he laughed and went after Avalon inside the house.

Amy leaned against the bonnet of the car and patted the spot beside her, "Hey," she called to the Time Lord, "So... You're leaving, aren't you?"

"You haven't seen the last of me," he assured, "Bad Penny is my middle name! Seriously, the looks I get when I fill in a form..."

"Why now?"

"Because you're still breathing," the Doctor quietly said, falling serious.

"Well, I think this is about the washing-up, personally," Amy remarked, making them both laugh a little, sadly. She stood off the car and glanced back at the house, "And Avalon? What happens to her?"

"Amy, you know the Silence is still out there. I can't...I can't keep acting...I can't keep pretending like I don't know what's coming," he swallowed hard.

Amy studied his expression, waiting for him to say more, but she soon understood what he was struggling to say...and it broke her heart. "Oh my God, you know." The Doctor avoided her gaze but his silence was answer enough. "You know about Lake Silencio."

"Knowing what's coming...I cannot and will not have Avalon around for that. I'm her Fairy Tale Man and I would rather die than put her in danger. If the Silence wants me, then let them have me but they will not touch her. Never again."

"I understand, I do, and I'm very grateful you're thinking about her safety but leaving her behind on Earth...don't you think that's just as dangerous?"

"No, I'll have eyes on her. I'll give Jack and Martha a call, I'll be in touch with a slightly older River Song. I'm keeping Avalon safe until...until I figure out how to defeat the Silence. Either Kovarian dies, or I will." The Doctor straightened himself up, standing by his words, and reached inside his jacket to pull out Avalon's silver journal. He had taken it from her room to avoid having to explain to her why she needed to bring it out of the TARDIS right now. He brushed a hand over the cover. 'A.H.R.' was still shining brightly as the day he carved it. Avalon Harmony Reynolds. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl who deserved to live out her days in peace.

He held the journal out to Amy, willing her to take it. "Tell her she can be anything she wants to be. She's the impossible girl, after all. Been doing the impossible ever since she was born."

Amy took the journal from him and nodded. "You don't want to say goodbye to her?"

"If I see her again, I won't be able to leave," he confessed with a heavy sigh. "I love her too much and that's my weakness. If she asks me to stay, I'm going to stay." And he couldn't do that to her. His room had shown him the consequences if he continued to ignore the future. He would die before he had to hold Avalon's dead body in his arms.

"She's going to continue asking so many questions..." Amy said sadly, choosing to understand his motives as the best option for all of them.

"Answer them. Answer everything she wants to know, even about River."

Amy suspected that wouldn't happen anytime soon. Avalon had no interest in learning about her biological mother. "Listen, if you bump into River, whichever version you meet, you tell her to stop by because her daughter's going to need her."

"Will do," the Doctor promised and gave her a quick hug.

"Look after yourself, please," Amy said, watching him backtrack to the TARDIS. He opened the door, glancing back at Amy who already had tears in her eyes, "Bye," she waved.

The Doctor waved back and entered the TARDIS, soon de-materializing. Of course, that happened right about the time Avalon and Rory had stepped out of the brand new house.

Avalon, who'd been carrying glasses in her hands, dropped them to the ground and hurried down the steps as she saw the blue box disappearing, "What happened!? Where's he going!?" She ran up to Amy.

"He's saving us," Amy said quietly and held her journal out.

Avalon swallowed the lump that'd formed in her throat. "No…" If he had left that then it meant he'd left all of them for good. "No, Amy, don't...don't give me that…"

"I'm sorry," Amy tried giving her the journal but Avalon threw it to the side, as hard as her strength allowed.

"He can't just leave me! He can't...the Silence wants him!" Avalon yelled with tears in her eyes. "He can't be on his own!"

"Ava…" Rory wanted to touch her but she backed away from them.

"You don't get it!? Kovarian wants him to be alone! He's going to do something stupid and I'm...I'm stuck here!"

"He's trying to save us all," Amy stepped towards her.

Avalon directed a rather furious glare on her. "How could you let him go like that!? I told you! I...I need to find him!" She clapped a hand over the watch on her wrist. "I love him, he can't just do this!"

"Avalon-"

"NO!" Avalon screamed. "Don't...I have to find him! He doesn't know - he doesn't know that I could still be the astronaut! That's what was in my room! I'm the astronaut and I kill him! The Silence can't have him! I'll drown myself first before I ever put on that astronaut suit!"

"Avalon, please calm down!" Rory wanted to catch her but she was backtracking further from them, completely hysterical.

"Leave me alone!" She turned away and ran off. She had to go find the Doctor before the Silence found him first.

[yandere-society]

Yandere!CEO!Taehyung who is either obsessed with his assistant who is going to work for another Yandere!Ceo (Like Jungkook) or a coffee store owner where he gets his coffee from but the store is moving to a new town

I got lost in the sauce bc I recently watched The Devil Wears Prada and I saw ‘assistant’ and ‘ceo’ and I went off.  Hope you don’t mind :)

Admin/Writer- Chinkbihh

Words- 6.7k

Trigger Warnings- Sadism, verbal abuse, yandere Taehyung

Actually, The Devil Wears Gucci

 You had always thought that ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ was an over exaggeration of what a boss/assistant relationship could be.  

Until you met Mr. Kim.

Meryl Streep as a boss would’ve been an angel compared to the monster who signed your paychecks now. 

 You had moved to the city with the assumption that jobs would be readily available for your plucking, however not even Mcdonalds was willing to call back for an interview.  After living three weeks in the city without a job, you told yourself that you would apply to anything and everything you came across before resorting to less admirable means of getting money. So when you came across a job position for being an assistant to some company, you had half-heartedly sent an application- no expectations for getting any response. 

 Apparently, this place was more desperate than you for it took exactly two hours before some nice lady was calling you and begging for an interview. This should have been the first red flag, for what kind of office job was more eager than a fast food chain? However the pay was nice and you weren’t in any position to shrug off potential employers, thus you agreed to come in.

 The following day you arrived at the company and sat down with the woman from over the phone, answering her questions with as much integrity as you could muster.  You were answering the stream of questions with ease until one odd one came up.

 “Are you fast?”  She asked not once looking up from her little clipboard.  The question threw you off guard.

“I-I’m sorry, what are you referencing?”  Your confident mask faltered for a second due to your inability to understand what the fuck she meant.  

“You’re going to be asked to make runs to the most random places throughout the city under harsh time crunches, do you think you could do that?”  She seemed sympathetic as she said this, as if she really didn’t want to put you through that.

 This should have been another red flag, but all that popped into your head was coffee runs.  

You just nodded, sure you could do some running around to get some wealthy people a couple cappuccinos for their ‘productive’ meetings. 

 “Are you sensitive?”  

Your eyebrow rose on its’ own accord and before your mouth could open to ask for more context, the interviewer interjected by saying;

 “Our CEO is a very…um, blunt man.  Some people don’t like that personality type so we rather avoid employing someone who will crumble under that pressure.” This was yet another red flag. 

 One that you didn’t bother looking at as you just smiled and told her, “I promise to keep my emotions out of the professional scene here.”

–

‘Blunt’ turned out to be a really watered down version for what the CEO actually was; a heartless bastard with no concept of empathy.  You later felt backstabbed by the interviewer (Irene was her name) for downplaying such a demon. But you could understand her incentive to not scare you off, how else would they get any employees if everyone knew about the CEO’s true behavior?  

After your brief interview, Irene declared you more than adequate enough for the position.  She decided to show you around before your first day the following week. 

The office was modern and chic with everyone seated at different sections depending on their department.  You got the sense that it was an elaborate operation given the high-rise location of the office floor and the expensive furniture. Even the fucking coffee maker at the cafeteria was more costly than your rent.  Despite the modern and voguish environment, all the employees Irene introduced you to seemed amicable and kind enough. You did however notice the slight eye widen whenever Irene told them that you were going to be “Mr. Kim’s new assistant.”  

There was something that no one was telling you, but everyone knew. 

 You didn’t discover what it was until Irene walked you over to a door and told you that it was time to meet the man you’d be working for.  

“It’s very important that you knock everytime.  Walking in without warning will make him furious.”  Irene gently told you as she raised her hand to knock on the mahogany door.  

However before her small fist could make contact with it, the door was ripped open from the other side and a girl rushed out in such speed you could barely catch her face. 

 The one thing you did catch though was the blotched mess it was with tear streaks running down it. You heard her sobs sound behind you and get further and further away as she ran out of the office.  You thought you heard a muttered; “insensitive jerk” as she passed by.

 Irene side-glanced you and gave you an awkward smile.  It was obvious that she didn’t even know what to do. “Um…sorry about that.  R-Rose has always been a bit of a crybaby.”

 She was a bad liar. 

 Irene leaned forward in the now open doorway and called out, 

“Mr. Kim?  Is it alright if I come in?” A grunt was heard but this was all the confirmation she needed before taking your hand and leading you inside.

The office was large with the outer wall being all glass, revealing the sky-line of the other tall skyscraper buildings in the city.  The walls were white but every piece of furniture was black, from the tiny lounge sofa pushed to the side to the very frames the abstract paintings were held in.  In the center of such room was a large grey granite desk that held a golden name plate that clearly read; Kim Taehyung (CEO).

Behind the desk stood your new boss as he ruffled his hair in frustration. 

 His messy strands were icy blue that contrasted the copper shade of his complexion, the sun having seemingly adored his skin but the top of his head favoring the cold. (Or hair dye, but that’s none of your business.) He was tall with a broad torso, yet he was slender.  His olympian body was clad in a suit that you dared not ponder the price of, knowing it could only end with you in tears. His intense and dark brows were pinched forward in annoyance, below them were his egyptian-like eyes that held raven colored orbs ignited with a fire you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of.  His face was slender but his features were anything but. His nose being fleshy but straight and his lips being plushy and berry-red. Spotted on his face were tiny beauty marks that were spaced enough to form a miniature constellation.

He looked up at Irene and scowled, “I told her to get Park Jimin for a meeting and the dumbass calls Park Chanyeol on accident.  Now I have to deal with this dumbo eared giant in the lobby who can’t take a fucking hint that I’m not selling any of his shitty products on my line.”  He grumbled with a surprisingly gravely voice that was so deep it sounded like the devil. 

 You connected the dots with the poor girl who ran out of the room only seconds prior, assuming he fired her or at least yelled at her very brutally.  He huffed once more and sat down in his velvet chair by the desk and finally bothered to give you a glance, just now noticing the person next to Irene.  

“Whose this?  Don’t tell me it’s another brainless bimbo.”  

He spoke of you like you weren’t in the room, which caused your brow to tick in annoyance. 

 Irene nervously cleared her throat and said, “This is Y/n, she is your new personal assistant.” 

 His face was unreadable and stony as he gave you a scrutinizing gaze, looking up and down your form to drink you in. 

 You wanted to shift nervously under his piercing eyes, but you didn’t want to be another ‘Rose’ for him to berate so you kept your calm.  Something just told you that he fed off fear. 

Then he spoke, “Go to Starbucks and get me a caramel macchiato.”

 He didn’t look away from you, clearly addressing you.

Irene bristled beside you, “S-sir, she doesn’t start until-”

You cut her off with a grin as you stared right back Mr. Kim, “I’ll get right on that.  Hot or iced and what size?” -

-

Kim Taehyung was a monster.

His source of nutrition?  

The souls, hope and energy of those mere mortals around him.

  In a way it was awe inducing how brilliant that man was. As much hatred people may have for him, one could not deny Taehyung his respect.  It took a lot of hard work to get to where he had gotten at the young age of 23. But that did not shake the asshole regime his employees had to suffer through. 

 He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it and exactly how he wanted it.  And if you couldn’t deliver upon such demands? Then off with your head and pray you never cross Kim Taehyung ever again. 

 Taehyung was not a boss who would pull one aside and quietly break the news that your services aren’t needed anymore.  No. He’ll scream it infront of everyone in the middle of a conference meeting and throw in a list of reasons why you should reevaluate your life for good measure.  

People bent so easily to him, submitted without question.  What was once a quiet and calm scene of friendly employees will swiftly change into a frenzied mess at a drop of a hat whenever Mr. Kim walked by.  

Panic would cause people to make copies of copies in fear that they’ll forget the important documents they needed to give him. People would leave elevators once Mr. Kim entered, always granting him his own ride to the top floor no matter how late they were running.  People only spoke when spoken to during meetings and when a deadline wasn’t met, they simply didn’t show up to work anymore due to the fear of facing the CEO. 

However there was a special infereno for the role of his personal assistant, one that you suffered everyday. 

 You caught on quick that he enjoyed giving you nearly impossible tasks, and he cared not about how stressful or absurd the demands were.

 “Coffee and bagel on my desk in 10 minutes or you’re fired.”

“Go downtown and get me those dumplings I like, be back in fifteen.”

“Go pick up my dry-cleaning and set up an appointment for a message at that one sauna in the west side.”  

“Get me the new Gucci robe or don’t bother coming in to work tomorrow.”  

“I got an urge to have a dog, go get one for me by 4’oclock.”

“The dog you got me threw up in my living room, here’s the spare key so you can clean it up.  Clean the rest of the place while you’re at it too.”

“I want a private jet…figure that out.”

“The tire popped off on my car on the way here.  Go pop it back on, it’s two blocks down.”

“Call Jung Hoseok and cancel our dinner plans, tell him he’s an asshole and his mother is a whore.”  

The last request was something he asked often of you, he particularly liked you sending over really vulgar messages to people.  

One time he caught you trying to sugar coat something over the phone and called you into his office to have a ‘talk.’

“Y/n, I believe I told you to to tell Mr. Lee that he could call back when he’s done with his head being up his ass.” 

 He menacingly glared at you as you tried your best to keep a straight face. “What did you say instead?” 

“I-I told Mr. Lee that you would further communicate with him once you deem him more aware and intelligent.” 

 He chuckled and rolled his eyes.  “Funny, that sounds a lot different that ‘get your head out of your ass’.”  

It was silent for a moment and you really wondered if you were going to lose your job just because you didn’t tell someone to shove it up where the sun don’t shine.  

Mr. Kim sat back in his seat and barked out, “When I tell you to curse at someone, you do it.  I don’t care who it is. It can be the fucking queen of England and you’ll call her a cunt if I order you to.  Now get out of my office and make yourself useful by fetching me a coffee.”

Now you didn’t flinch when you called other wealthy business people with cursing insults in hand.

  –

A month had passed and you had slowly become the longest working personal assistant for Kim Taehyung. 

 Other employees informed you that the longest run before you was three weeks and two days and the girl ended with a mental breakdown in the bathroom.  

When they asked you how you managed to tolerate all of Mr. Kim’s demands whilst not getting landed on your ass with him firing you, you tried your best to explain your strategy. 

 You weren’t getting paid to give your opinions. 

So whenever he ordered you to get him something under nearly impossible time limits, you just kept your mouth shut and ran off to compete that insane task. 

 It was hard given he never gave you establishment names of the places he wanted stuff from, it was always given in terms of “that out place in the east side.” “That one restaurant I like.” “That one gallery I visited last time with Jin.”  

And you always only had a short time frame to figure out where he is talking about, go there and get what he wanted, and return back before his timer went off. Sprinting down the busy sidewalks of the city had become a daily thing that was required of you.  

You would go out on these runs 3-4 times a day and do ridiculous calls about 5-6 times a day. Sometimes Mr. Kim would have this look on his face as he told you of your newest assignment, as if he anticipated your objection because even he knew how absurd his demands were.

  But you never gave him that satisfaction, knowing that he will get the upper hand and possibly fire you if you interjected in any way. 

So you would just always smile and tell him that you were right on it. 

–

Kim Taehyung rather enjoyed studying you.  

When he first caught sight of you, he couldn’t help but think you were very attractive.  Yet this didn’t cause his heart to grow fond of you at all. In fact it was almost a negative given all the pretty assistants he had in the past turned out to be dumbest. 

Yet in a matter of a few weeks, you managed to prove him wrong and exceed previously set expectations.  

He knew he was an ass.  And he wanted his assistants to know that when they first met him, never would he want to give a first impression of being a lax or laid back boss.  So maybe he went out of his way to make things a tad more…stressful for you.

  Taehyung couldn’t deny the slight surprise every time you simply responded with that cute grin of yours and pulled off every task that he even doubted was possible.

  After a few weeks of this, Taehyung was forced to acknowledge the fact that you were here to stay as you have proven yourself more than capable.

 But that didn’t mean he stopped fucking with you.

No, if anything he did it even more.  

He found it so adorable to view that expression of yours when you were faced with yet another idiotic obstacle he set up for you.  The slight incoming blush as your face reddened with a frustration that you dared not utter. The pursing of your lips as if you were forcing yourself not to object.  The delightful eye widen when he told you to make vulgar calls. That funny little eyebrow twitch you did when he gave you an especially difficult command. And your pathetic little attempt to mask your displeasure by plastering on an innocent smile and chirping, “Sure, I’ll get right on that.” 

 It was better than any comedy Taehyung could’ve paid to watch. 

 Taehyung was well aware of his own sadistic tendencies, therefore it made sense that he would have an odd sense of satisfaction from pestering you. 

 However the endgame most sadists had never came true in this case; you never broke. He witnessed many assistants crumble under him; whether it be by crying, screaming at him or just plain storming out. 

 He always won in the end, his trophy being their crack in sanity and composure. But you were stubborn.  

You refused to let him get to you.  Maybe that’s why he found himself slightly dumbfounded by you.  You swallowed your pride and did his bidding with a dog-like obedience that you obviously faked.  Yet you never cracked and humored him with a spontaneous rebellion to his dictatorship, you followed along but masked yourself just enough to have him thirsty to hear your actual thoughts and feelings.  

He didn’t realize just how far his fascination went until he found himself at a club on a Saturday night, sat in the VIP lounge with Kim Namjoon to his left and Kim Seokjin to his right. 

 They were sat at a U-shaped booth that was dimly lit and above the chaotic dancefloor that sounded below, their elevated position giving them a glamorous view of the most famous club in the city.

“Let me get this straight, your plan is to blackmail your cousin into signing off on this deal?”  Namjoon clarified while pouring the trio drinks.

 Taehyung shrugged and raised the glass that was handed to him up to his mouth, sniffing the over-priced alcohol before taking a chug of it.  “Why not? Business isn’t meant to be all clean and squeaky.”

 “Still, you’re out of your mind if you think your uncle isn’t going to get you after this.”  Jin retorted from Taehyung’s other side.

 “Jin, don’t think that I don’t know how you avoided giving your tax statements to the IRS.”  Taehyung bit back, not liking the hypocritical behavior of his comrades.

All the men at that particular booth were wealthy ceos who ran as kings in this particular city.  Taehyung wasn’t sure if he liked the term ‘friends’ but at the very least he considered Namjoon and Seokjin as allies in the cruel world of business.  He tolerated the two more than he did most. 

The discussion went on for another hour of so, drinks fading Taehyung’s mind as the man’s speech became increasingly more and more slurred with every topic they covered.  These topics ranging from the current market to interesting endeavors they have faced lately in their line of work. The drinks continued to pour, the bottles were bottomless for such rich men.  His inhibitions were lowered as well as his morals (what little there was left for him). 

He didn’t quite know how or when she ended up in his lap, but he did nothing to push her off. 

 All the molasses covered words she purred into his ear seemed all too appealing.

Her hold on him was instantaneous, something about her screamed a comfortable sense of familiarity that he couldn’t deny for the life of him.

The rest of the night was blurry, but a clear conclusion formed when Taehyung woke up the next morning with a stranger in his bed.

  –

She looked like you. 

 Alot.  

The resemblance was striking and uncanny.  

From her (color) hair, to her docile little features, to the figure shape and even the height. 

 If you had a twin sister, Taehyung was positive that he just fucked her into oblivion. 

 Taehyung had awoken the next morning with a feeling of arms around his waist and another body sharing his satin sheets.  This was not necessarily a new sensation given he had his own fair share of one night stands. But he was not prepared for what he saw when he rolled around to see which nameless woman it was this time.

For a moment, his groggy mind couldn’t comprehend that it was not you, for his brain simply matched up the looks very easily and deduced it as such.  

However after a moment of closer inspection, he noticed that it was a doppelganger but not the real you. The alikeness only took up his mind for a brief moment before he was forced to spot something else while studying the intruder.  

She had bruises. 

 Hand marks around her neck, blotchiness of getting spanked on her ass, love bites that were borderline black littered her body and those ruby stained lips were swollen and cracked from assault of the mouth. 

Taehyung was taken aback by the sight of such brutal violence that marked her otherwise smooth and unbothered skin. 

 If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed that this girl was the victim of abuse. Yet the fact that she was in his bed had lead to the conclusion that he himself must’ve been responsible for such injuries.  

He always knew that he was rough in bed, but he never went as far as he clearly did last night with this woman.  

It was jaw dropping and a twinge of guilt even glimmered in his otherwise dead heart.  

He must’ve put this girl through hell itself last night just to satisfy his sick primal needs.  And later when he made his way to his kitchen (after telling his maid to wake the girl up and kick her out) an alarming thought bestowed upon him that was too spot-on and shameless for it not to be true.

  It was no coincidence that the one girl he slept whom held so much resemblance to you lead to the wildest night that unleashed his true sadism like it never had been before.

  His intoxicated self had connected the dots for him to face when he sobered up.

He wanted to leave those marks and bruises on you…not her.  

–

Your body was failing you.  

The moment you woke up that morning, a sense of doom was in the air as you discovered your nose was stuffed, throat sore and stomach uneasy.  You were sick.

 If God had granted you a nicer boss who understood the human body and the occasional decline in health, perhaps you would’ve called in for a sick day.  But asking Kim Taehyung for a sick day was like asking the Devil to read a bible….you might as well have just asked for a gruesome death. Taehyung didn’t believe in sick days and you were not in the mood to begin another fruitless job search, so you decided to take some aspirin and soldier on to the office. 

 “Coffee, bagel…you know the drill.”  Was the first words Mr. Kim greeted you with when you entered his office for the morning rundown.  He seemed oddly quiet this morning and he refused to look up at you from his desk. Which was somewhat concerning given he always glared up at you whenever he barked out his demands.  You simply nodded and attempted to shrug off this break in character before going off to make your first run of the day.

 When you returned with the usual coffee and bagel in hand, you discovered that Taehyung was not in his office at all.  You stepped out in search of him and Irene seemed to notice your struggle before telling you; “Oh, he didn’t tell you? He’s in a meeting right now with Mr. Jeon.  Check the conference room.” 

You quickly thanked her and made your way over to said room.  

You swung the door open to see two men (one being Mr. Kim and the other being yet another handsome but youthful man in a suit) talking with hushed tones that held a underlying vibe of anger.  

“Taehyung don’t fucking try me I swear to-”

“I’m not trying anything, Jungkook.  I think you got a little comfortable with your position without keeping in mind how you got there.”

“Excuse me?  Was this your plan all along-”The other man (who must’ve been Mr. Jeon) suddenly stopped talking as he noticed your form standing by the now ajar doorway. 

 This caused your boss to turn and face what took the other’s attention from the conversation at hand. Taehyung looked at you with a scowl plastered on his aristocratic face, eyes ruthless as they bored right through you. 

 You froze in place as your blood ran cold.  

You realised too late that you had made a mistake.

You were in trouble.  

“What the fuck did I say about knocking?!  You worthless bitch, does your stupidity know of no bounds?”  Taehyung snarled, causing your stomach to drop.

 “I-I just wanted to give you the coffee and-” 

He cut you off, “Details of your incompetence do not interest me.”  

Maybe it was because you were sick that your emotions were a tad more sensitive than usual, but for the first time you felt your eyes sting with the incoming tears that welled up in your vision.  Your body already felt beat but now your self-esteem took a plummet as well. Taehyung continued to glare at you but you tried to blink the tears away before they could fall.

 “I-I’m sorry.”  You stuttered before rushing to plop his food onto the table before him and scurry out of the room.  

–

Your brain was pounding as if a hammer was rutting against it with a vengeance.  Your stomach was twisted in knots as your throat screamed for some type of soother for the scratchy ache it was suffering. You sniffed once more and attempted to focus on the task at hand, answering calls left for the office, but your lids kept dropping due to your drowsy state.  You still were licking your wounds after what had happened earlier that morning, for the first time on this job- you fucked up.  

You weren’t baffled at Mr. Kim’s reaction, in fact it was to be expected for him to lash out like that. The only cause of disappointment was in yourself.  You messed up when you shouldn’t have and unknowingly let the fucker get to you. You hated the fact that he saw you near tears, you hated letting him see you in a vulnerable state.  You hated that you almost cowered in fear and let him smell the fear off of you. You were no better than the girls before you.  You were proud to think that he would never get under your skin and that you would continue to pull everything off.  

But of course there was such thing as the ‘straw that broke the camel’s back’.

 You didn’t want to face him, but after the morning progressed into the early afternoon; you were called into Mr. Kim’s office.  

“I need a copy of the sales reports on my desk within the next hour.  There will be a board meeting at one so I’m going to need you to sit in on that and take notes.  I will be going out for lunch via the reservations you made yesterday so if you can call beforehand to double-check that would be great.  Also call Kim Namjoon and raincheck drinks at Oliver’s, tell him that I’m free tomorrow night but not tonight. As for now, my brother recently had a baby so I need to send flowers, go out and get some ordered and delivered to the local hospital.”  He said all of this without looking up at you once during the dialogue, eyes scanning a paper before him as his deep and cold voice filled the room. 

You sniffed out of instinct that can’t be helped when one is ill, to this he looked up at you in neck-breaking speed.  

You thought that perhaps he was going to comment on your obvious impaired state now that he was viewing you, but instead he quirked a brow and asked harshly, “Any questions?”  

You shook your head no as you ran the mental list once more in your head. 

 “Then get out of my office.” 

–

You waited for the elevator to ‘ding’ with it’s familiar arrival.

You needed to leave the office and get those flowers your boss had asked of you, but also you needed to be back in time for that meeting.  So once again, you found yourself in yet another rush. Unfortunately, the fact that Mr. Kim’s office floor was the very top one meant that you had to factor in an elevator ride to and from the top whilst going on these errand runs. 

 You sighed in impatience as a few more seconds passed, time eating away more than you would have liked it to.  

Finally you heard a small sound that signalled an incoming elevator, you entered it when it’s silver doors opened for you. 

 You leaned against the wall and awaited it’s closure, but right when it was about to shut, a pale and veiny hand stuck out to stop it. 

 He stepped in, his face being familiar but not enough for you to correctly place your finger on it.  He looked at the buttons but he didn’t click any when he saw that you both were heading to the main floor. 

 The doors closed and you both quietly felt the elevator descend downwards, the two of you facing the doors.  

Once again, your sickness caused your nose to sniffle and this brought the attention of the man in the closed space with you.

  He turned to face you.  His doe eyes studied you for a moment, before a look of realization sparked in his inky orbs.  

“Are you Taehyung’s assistant?” You meekly nodded, just now noticing that this was the ‘Mr. Jeon’ that was in the meeting you had interrupted earlier that morning.  

You felt his gaze run down your face (which you knew was most likely pale and sick looking with a reddened nose to top it off).

 “I’m sorry about what happened earlier…my cousin has always been a jackass.”  He told you gently with that high-pitched voice of his that held a light musical tone.  You felt your eyes widened in slight surprise at the ‘cousin’ part, but nonetheless you kept your mouth shut.  You wanted to ask how the hell this guy was related to the spawn of satan himself, Mr. Jeon having a friendly and amicable tone while Mr. Kim had  stick shoved up his ass 24/7. “How long have you been working for him?” 

You didn’t know why he seemed so interested in that, but given he was your superior you answered; “A little over a month now, sir.” 

 He snorted at the ‘sir’ part but looked at you pitifully as even he must’ve known how hellish that month must have been for you.  It was silent for a moment and you both felt the elevator slow down, telling you that you were about to arrive at the lobby floor.  

“This might be a little unorthodox, but my company has a paid internship program if you’re interested.  It only lasts six months but if your work ethic is good, we can hire you as a full-time employee after those months are up.”  He dug into his suit and pulled out a business card before handing it to you. 

The doors opened and he stepped out, calling out from over his shoulder; “It’s not much, but it’s better than working for that asshole.”  

–

Taehyung was…sinisterly pleased.  

When you had walked in that morning without knocking, he was thrilled to finally be able to reprimand you.  Sure, it was a small and silly mistake. But it was the first slip-up you had in a month, and of course he was going to pounce on that.

The image of your glassy eyes blinking furiously away at stubborn tears was too good for it to not be burned into his memory.  The embarrassment that burned your face with a gorgeous crimson glow was a mouth-watering sight to behold. When your lip wobbled and voice broke as you for once showed him a side of you that he never saw before (a broken and weak one) he couldn’t deny the bliss that overtook him in that moment.  

He broke you.  

He won.  

He wanted to see it over and over again, your watery eyes and pained face that was laced in humiliation.  The experience triggering a taboo sense of arousal that had Taehyung taking care of himself under his desk minutes after the meeting finished.  

How badly he wanted to be the master of any further emotions of degradation, sadness or pity.  

How badly he wanted that expression to be saved for his eyes only.  

How badly he wanted to push you to your limits….

It took a lot of Taehyung to not tease you when he had given you your chore list of the day.  He limited eye contact and pretended to be engrossed in a stupid HR letter to maintain an image of aloofness.  But, it was important that you saw him as cold and unforgiving. A sadist needed to be feared. 

He awaited your return eagerly for the meeting that was to be held later that day.  He wanted to see if he would have a chance to yell at you and potentially embarrass you further in front of a board of directors.  But when he finally walked into that meeting with expectations set of you being there; Irene was in your spot with a notepad in hand.

 “Where’s Y/n?”  Taehyung whispered in the middle of the presentation to one of his most loyal employees.  

 In response, she nudged over a paper, still frantically jotting down information that Taehyung lost interest in long ago. 

 Taehyung’s hands shook in fury as he read the lines over and over again. 

 It was a letter of resignation.

  –

(Two Months Later)

You sat in front of this old and serious man as he looked over your resume once more through his thick prescription glasses.  

Your internship with Jungkook’s company did not last long.  Not due to a falling out or lack of good work ethic on your part, but due to a mysterious tanking of his company as insider trading and supposed tax evasion caused the business to fail.  

Although, this was the story that was released to the press.  Loyal workers of the Jeon Corporation will tell you that Kim Taehyung had framed him in a effort to get rid of competition.  Somehow, this story was more believable to you than the one the news reported on. 

Either way, you were out of a job and desperately needed to find a way to make a living.  So here you were, interviewing for some shitty saleswoman position in effort to pay your rent. 

“I must say…you have a lot of nerve being here today.”  The old man grumbled after looking over his notes once more.  You spluttered in confusion at this rude comment.  The interview had been going well…what happened?

 “Excuse me?” 

 “We called your former employers for a reference but since your most recent employer is facing jail time, we had to call the one prior to that.  CEO Kim Taehyung sent us a fax that said as a worker you have ‘problems listening to specific instructions, lazy and incompetent, and the worst mistake my company will make by hiring you for you cannot handle a shred of responsibility.’” 

 Your mouth went dry as you pictured the boss from hell laughing evilly as he sent this fax, most likely trying to ruin your life as some sort of sick entertainment. 

 “I-I can explain plea-” you attempted to speak, only to be cut off with just a look. 

 The old man looked at you with critical beady eyes as he pointed to the door and said, “I think you should leave.”

  –

You stormed into the familiar office with a rage you had never felt before. 

 Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and your very livelihood was just fucked with.  How were you supposed to pay your bills or even afford to sustain your basic needs when you had someone like Kim Taehyung telling all future employers that you were ‘the worst mistake a company could commit’?

  He called you lazy and incompetent!  Not once did you fail him in any regard bigger than forgetting to knock on a door one time.  You waited on that man hand and foot while allowing yourself to be degraded in the process.

 “Where is he?!”  You growled to Irene from her usual spot at the front desk.  

“Y-Y/n, calm down, okay?  I know what he did bu-”

“Where!”  You exploded, sick and tired of her always defending him despite all the evidence of him being a devil and ruining innocent people’s lives.

She looked in your eyes and knew that she wasn’t going to convince you to leave.  Irene sighed in defeat and muttered, “In his office.”

 You ran to his office and visously ripped the door open to enter his little lion’s den that so many careers have met their end in.

  He was seated in his lounge area, a glass of Scotch in his large golden hand as he looked up at you in a bored yet amused stare. 

You approached him and he just grinned, a whimsical delight spreading across the elegant canvas that was his face. 

 “Y/n, I was expecting you!  Can you get me a refill babe? Ever since you’ve left I’ve had to get my own and frankly, I’m kinda tired of it.”  He casually called out, shaking the glass in your direction. 

  Your brow ticked in annoyance and you noted that it only made him smirk even wider.

  So your suspicions were true; he did take pleasure in the pain of others. 

 “What the fuck?!  What was with that reference you gave to that company?!  You know damn well that I was the best assistant that you’ve ever had, and this is how you repay me?!  Why? Why do you hurt me so much?” You hoarsely yelled as your voice gave out in the end, sadness beginning to overrule anger as you realized just how little your life meant to someone as big as him.

 Taehyung was quiet for a moment as a somber look shadowed his face. 

 Then a chuckle. 

That chuckle bled into a thunderous and roaring laughter as he clutched at his stomach.  After a solid minute of him laughing like a crazed person, he wiped his tears away and seriously stated;

 “Because I like hurting you.  And you will learn to like it too.  Did you think you could leave that easily?  Don’t be stupid sweetie, it’s not a good look and I know you’re better than that.  You might as well come work for me given that no other employers in a hundred mile radius will hire you.” 

 He got up and slowly stalked towards you.  

“You should know better than to try to leave someone like me.  But don’t worry, I’ll clear matters up in that dumb little head of yours.  You’re not just an assistant and I’m not just your boss. Your my pet and I’m your master.  I don’t care if you like it or not, because you only have two options. Accept it, or never get a job and starve out in the streets.  You will only ever work for and serve me. Sorry I didn’t run that past you when you were working here earlier. I wanted to slowly progress our way there but you left before I could have the chance.  Now I have no choice but to push this all on you.” 

He was only an inch away from your face now, beaming at your shell-shocked state before he plopped his drink into your hands. 

 “Now….I believe I asked for a refill.”

(oooof this was kinda trash so srry but that.  It ran for longer than I wanted it to so im sorry if it’s long winded.  Also spacing might be weird bc my computer is on crack cocaine so that’s fun.   Anyway, for inspiration I used @mint-yooxgi‘s Baekhyun yandere CEO story but obvi hers is much better so like check that out. Lemme know what you think and this is chinkbihh signing off.)  

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 97

97

Keith never wanted to move again. Lance was preheat for a week, Coran having him stay with Keith to help keep his hormones and emotions stable, while Matt and Rieva were staying with Matt’s parents, Blue at Shiro’s. A new group chat was made between the four of them, plus Shiro, so Matt could keep them updated and see if the pair needed anything. What Keith needed was to be left alone with Lance. They’d spent three days at the hotel, Keith knew Shiro extended their stay, but he’d thought one extra day, not two. Lance tried to downplay his symptoms and tried even harder to be normal about the situation. Keith had to give a full report over what had happened on his end of things went the stakeout went south. Shiro had not been a happy camper. Keith forced through a whole heap of tests to prove he was fine, like he’d told them a hundred times. So when he finally escaped Platt to Lance’s house, he never wanted to leave.

And then Lance’s heat came.

Oh dear lord, had Lance’s heat come. The house would need a thorough scrubbing from top to bottom. It lasted four days, five if you included the fact it rolled into the morning of the fifth day. They’d “accidentally” discovered Lance really, really, liked it when he used the pocket pussy on him during sex. Blindfolds and restraints weren’t their thing. Keith thought maybe, but seeing Lance like that made him feel weird not in a sexy way, and the butt plug seemed to help Lance sleep better between the waves of need. The fifth day had been pretty brutal despite Lance’s heat tapering off. His boyfriend spent most of the early afternoon making love to the toilet bowl, while Keith “snoozed” against his back.

Coran had given them emergency contraceptives, but neither of them wanted to go without a condom, despite what their fevered minds told them before, during, and after. It was completely whack that their bodies got mad at them for being in a happy relationship that didn’t need a baby to prove it. Lance’s waves were more intense then when he’d smelt Sendak for the first time, but they’d made it through. Lance swallowing down one of the yellow pills on the fourth night when they noticed things definitely starting to calm. Keith had the suspicion that Lance’s vomiting was a side effect from that, and the stress of having so much sex that his dick felt broken.

Cuddling up together on the sofa later on the fifth day, Lance fell asleep sipping on one of his blood bags before his energy finally ran out and his boyfriend turned into a bat. Keith would have too if he could have, because even trying to walk had him shuffling. Lance’s body had wanted sex, his mind wanted a baby, but Lance himself wanted him to be okay. The moment his heat would simmer down, Lance would be asking if he was okay. His boyfriend too fucking sweet... and his arse too fucking good. They’d flirted with fire the first time, Lance’s legs locked around his waist, barely giving him space to pull out in time. Keith would like to say that was the only time, but when you wake up very hard and very in your boyfriend, you thanked whoever was out there for contraceptives as you wondered if you’d done this the first time around... as well as being amazed you could get in there when your boyfriend’s butt was already preoccupied.

Lance had spent two days as a bat, cuddling Keith wherever he went as he stayed clinging to Keith’s shirt. He’d had to go shopping for coffee pods and lactose free milk, Lance tucked up inside his jacket where he squeaked to make his wants known. They made a pretty good team, though one or two members of Garrison’s general public might now believe Keith was crazy from the amount of time he’d spent “talking to himself” in the supermarket. Keith didn’t care. He wasn’t dating them, nor was he friends with them, so he wasn’t going to let their opinion of him get to him.

Keith was in the bath with Lance when his boyfriend finally turned back. After a ridiculously long day. He’d brought a container up so his boyfriend could float without drowning. Lance had seemed sceptical, but after nearly losing him hiding too much body wash and filling the sink with bubbles, this seemed safer to both of them. Keeping their friends under control had seemed like less work than trying to clean up the bathroom after Lance accidentally flooded it with his sudden transformation. They’d worked out a system. Lance couldn’t push the buttons on the phone, so Keith asked him how he wanted to reply... kind of getting into being both of them, but not enjoying it when he’d make his boyfriend flap his wings and squeak his protest over something Keith said for himself.

He’d also gotten himself into trouble for calling himself an idiot when accidentally broken a plate and cremated his toast. Lance had bitten him for it. When Pidge and Hunk had learned Lance was not only home but also a bat, they’d invited themselves over. Pidge was the only one game to try give Lance flying lessons. His boyfriend couldn’t fly straight if his life depended on it. He’d flap his wings, get a few feet, even a couple of metres before gravity would remind him of its existence. Both their friends were disappointed when he and Lance came down humanish.

Still exhausted from the medication and his heat, Lance collapsed on the sofa, Pidge wrapping her arms around him and cuddling Lance tight. With Hunk on the other side, the bear of a man rested against Lance, arm around Lance and hand resting near Pidge’s knee. Neither of them knew what’d happened, they simply wanted to comfort their friend... while Keith fought down the need to protect Lance. He felt as if he really would have shot someone had they tried to come near Lance sooner. Had they come during Lance’s heat, he wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help them if Lance had torn their throat out. They could say what they liked about him, or try to pick a fight, but when they went for Lance, he wouldn’t stand for it. Like Lance wouldn’t stand for the same happening to him, or their friends.

With a sleepy Lance, and Keith not providing of their “romantic week away”, Hunk headed to the kitchen to make popcorn as they decided on a movie night. Lance mumbling about some movie starting with “G” that they had to watch together. Pidge pulling Lance’s hair for it and Lance pretending to snap at her finger with his fangs. Hearing something from the kitchen, Lance called out that he should invite Shay tomorrow for a family dinner. Pidge taking teasing Lance over having forgotten everyone thanks to his vacation. Cuddling the gremlin tighter, Pidge sighed dramatically, pretending to make a deal out of it, when Keith could see she was happy being back with Lance. Things were good.

This all led to Keith not wanting to get up and human the next day. He’d had his coffee, Lance bringing up breakfast in bed, to draw out their alone time together before the house swarmed upon by Shiro, Matt, Rieva, Curtis, Hunk, Shay, and Pidge. After having Lance alone to himself again, he wished he hadn’t mentioned Lance was bat, so they could have spent some more time together being boyfriend’s and not adults. Cuddled up after breakfast, Keith nearly jumped when Lance’s voice broke the comfortable silence between them

“I may have done something”

“Mmm?”

Lance moved to lay across him, looking him the face with a semi worried expression. Now Keith was getting nervous

“I... um... okay. So I know you’re like me and birthday’s are a bit of an issue... but I am... might have made plans for yours seeing ours are like three months apart, well, a little less”

Keith groaned. Yeah. Now he got why Lance didn’t want to talk about his

“Babe...”

“Do you remember when you said you liked hiking?”

Keith didn’t have a single clue where this was going. He liked hiking, but Lance didn’t seem so keen on it

“Yeah”

“And do you remember how you haven’t had much time to work on your photography?”

“Mhmm?”

“I may have organised for us to go camping for your birthday”

Keith blinked half a dozen times at his boyfriend. Camping for his birthday?

“What?”

“Not “camping” camping. But like a three night stay over the weekend... All of us too, but there’s like 3 seperate cabins and a small communal kitchen area. We’ll have a cabin, Matt and Rieva will have a cabin, and then the others will share the main one”

He’d done what? When? Since when had Lance had the time to sneak this in on him?!

“You did what?”

Lance winced. Keith too shocked to feel guilty at the harshness in his tone

“I’m sorry. It seemed like a really good idea at the time. It’s like a three hour drive from here and then a hike up to the cabins...”

“How? What... hang on... we haven’t even talked about my birthday”

“I know. I should have asked. I got carried away trying to think of what I could do for you on your birthday. I know Shiro’s been working pretty much nonstop and I thought maybe it’d be nice to be away and I should have asked but when I saw the photos I got excited and kind of maybe booked it on the spot”

Lance dropped his head to Keith’s chest, his boyfriend kind of seemed less than happy now he’d told him

“Hold up. I didn’t even want to do anything for my birthday”

“I know. We don’t have to make a big huge deal... I just thought... I thought maybe we could be there to show you that we care... and you know, hang out as a group somewhere other than here... and I thought it’d be a nice place for you to take photos”

Lance seemed really happy with the coffee table album Keith made up. It lived on the living room mantle between the bobble heads Shiro gifted Lance. But there was another problem to this whole plan

“What about work?”

“Coran okayed it because you have to work Halloween security and because, you know, you had to work my birthday too...”

Keith could see Coran being easily swayed when it came to Lance. It was kind of hard not to be

“You should have asked”

Lance sighed, rubbing his cheek against Keith’s chest

“I know. I know... I’m stupid and impulsive. Plus the next few months I usually get swamped with work. The holidays are hard for a lot of families. Sometimes I’m even working on Christmas Day and there’s been too many times I’ve had to request welfare checks”

Keith had had to work Christmas days too... all the Christmas crowds tended to bring out the less desirables, preying on people getting their Christmas gifts...

“But you don’t even like camping. Can you even go camping? What about the blood?”

Lifting his head back up, his boyfriend’s chin dug lightly into his chest

“Thanks to this super modern invention that science has gifted us with, there’s this super magical thing called ice. You see, you put stuff in ice and it stays cool”

His boyfriend was a dick. Ice was hardly a new invention

“What about the sun? How do you hide the blood?”

Lance shrugged a shoulder

“I cover up, and I’m the only one who drinks red wine. Pick a dark bottle, wash it out, then pack it”

That was... impressive. With the blood being red, you wouldn’t think it blood at the first glance of a wine bottle.

Reaching out, Keith ruffled Lance’s hair

“You’ve kind of... really smart”

“It’s not a perfect system... I mean, I only came up with it because Pidge wanted to hunt things like Mothman...”

“Mothman is real”

Until he proved otherwise, Mothman was real. Lance patted Keith’s chest

“Of course he is, dear. Anyway, I’ve got the information on my laptop”

“I still don’t know when you had the time”

“At the hotel on my phone. You keep saying you’re not great at this boyfriend thing, but it was really nice at the hotel. I thought about maybe going to the coast for a week, but you’ve got work, and Rieva’s got work, and so do Shay, Shiro, Curtis, and Hunk at his parent’s garage... so I thought a weekend would be better. Head down Friday around lunch, then back either Sunday night or early Monday morning”

“I suppose next you’re going to tell me you’ve gotten me a present”

“Yep. Only because you told me what you wanted”

“When did I do that?”

“Pretty much within the first month of meeting you. And if you’re worried, everyone else has chipped in to cover their part of the rental costs for the weekend. I covered yours because you’re the birthday boy”

Keith hadn’t thought about that bit. Lance could afford to treat them all, but knowing Keith would be uncomfortable with that had let everyone else contribute

“It’s not too much is it?”

“Nah, it’s off season at the moment with things cooling down. Apparently people don’t want to risk hiking when you could get soaked”

Pfft. He and Shiro had hiked in the rain before. It wasn’t terribly awful, but it wasn’t always great

“Whimps”

“We can take Kosmo too. He’ll have to be on lead up there and around the camp site. They used to trap there before humans over hunted the deer population. Matt and Rieva should be fine to run around the forest as long as Shay doesn’t see them”

Not as well as everyone else. Did Shay like him?

“I barely know Shay”

“Dude, you totally know her enough. She’s like Hunk’s soulmate”

Hunk was soft and gentle... Sometime’s Shay could be as ruthless as Pidge in chat

“She’s a lot like Pidge”

Lance rolled his eyes at him

“Who’s Hunk’s platonic soulmate. Shay is super shy until you get to know her. Then she’s as ruthless as Mami”

“Have you called Mami yet?”

“Nope. Wanted to do it with you. We should probably get up”

“If she was closer we could have brought her to dinner”

Lance brightened right up. His boyfriend always seemed kind of amazed that Keith thought of Miriam as much as he. Kissing his cheek, Lance pulled away, Keith knowing he was about to be forced up and to human

“That’s a great idea... I’m gonna call Mami and see if she can stay the night”

With Lance now super excited and wearing his “determined face”, Keith bit down talking Lance out of it. For her own safety, and the safety of her sanity, Mami really was better staying in Platt. All their friends were weirdos.

[sluttyopinions]

The Blunt Reality of Attack on Titan

August 4, 2020

Written by Samantha, Slutty Opinions

OPENING

People usually tend to associate anime and manga with being crazy over the top action packed experiences. Attack on Titan is a series full of exactly that. It’s a hugely popular franchise known for having insanely cool action and bombastic music. People flying around doing impossible feats and fighting fantastical enemies that are larger than life are common. Despite all this flash and excitement, the series never lets you forget the harsh reality of the world itself in a unique way, effectively separating it from many of its peers.

This grim reality is basically used to beat the audience over the head over and over, at times too liberally and too often as some would argue. I personally think how the original author of the manga that started it all, Hajime Isayama, entwines every aspect of his story with cynicism and grimness is one of the major reasons why I love the series, and I’m willing to bet it’s a big reason for a lot of fans whether they know it or not. Before I get into the details, I will say that I won’t be putting in any real spoilers of either the manga or the anime so if you’re just curious about what I may have to say, you can keep going. I’d also like to mention that I am more of a recent fan, but still a big one. I’ve seen the entire anime and have been trying to catch up on the source material, so my knowledge and opinions will be limited to that amount of content.

THE TITANS

For anyone unaware of the basic premise of Attack on Titan, the last remnant of the human race has been trapped by huge humanoid beasts in an expansive settlement surrounded by walls. It is humanity’s job to fight off these mindless monsters and survive behind the walls. The titans are a large part of what creates the identity of the series. Seems kind of obvious since it’s literally the title and all. The way these titans are integrated into the action and the story of the show is a large part of what prevents Attack on Titan from simply being another generic action series that ends up forgotten as a flavor of the month. It seems like I’m not giving the series enough credit because there is a LOT it does right otherwise such as pacing, story structure, characters, and so on that combine to make an incredible experience that has captivated many. However, I still stand by the idea that the titans help make the franchise feel truly one of a kind.

Everyone who’s ever seen the titans has probably noticed how grotesquely and uncannily they are designed. In the manga, the whole world and the way many things and people are drawn especially all have very creepy vibes to it all. While it would be a huge stretch to claim Attack on Titan is a horror manga, it’s common sense to acknowledge it’s strongly influenced by horror. The absolute sense of uncertainty and powerlessness these monsters present nearly every time they’re on screen is overpowering to both the characters that must deal with them and the audience as well. 

Isayama creates a feeling of dread involving these beasts insanely effectively. Any encounter with them even if it is merely 1 or 2 of them can always lead to sudden death. There is never safety in the presence of the titans even for the most skilled. Their pure size and physical ability is nearly never downplayed. While the humans have their own special weapons and crazy abilities, the titans are hardly ever presented as mere battle fodder or mulch. Titans happen to be very good at killing people and the delivery of it all makes it feel believable. Keeping the antagonists intimidating and serious is very important for the overall feeling of Attack on Titan. 

At times it can even feel like too much. The idea of any character dropping dead at any time can be very discouraging when you’re trying to get invested in a cast or just getting started. Sure that amount of pure “edge” in itself is appealing to a lot of people, but edge without purpose or substance makes for very bad entertainment in my eyes. It’s honestly in fact one of my pet peeves. I did not expect to like Attack on Titan for a long time due to this reputation it had for being brutal and random. Just not my style. When I actually gave it a shot however, I realized the writing is a lot more purposeful and I’d even say forgiving than I expected. While at times being an emotionally exhausting experience and definitely pessimistic in many ways, this series treats the terrible events that occur left and right with proper gravity and maturity.

THE NATURE OF WAR

Attack on Titan has a lot to say about a variety of subjects. It’s honestly much more subtle and intelligent than I even thought with my initial blind viewing of the anime. Reading the manga through the same events really gave me an appreciation for the thought and detail that goes into Isayama’s writing. The most obvious subject he focuses on is something that is probably less than subtle however and can be spotted quickly by anyone who has seen or read even a bit of the series. 

That subject happens to be the horrors of war. On the surface the story seems to be just a simple story of man vs beast and it wouldn’t make much sense for it to have anything to say about war. While the circumstances involved are very fantasy-themed and at times ridiculous, it still at its heart is a narrative about war and how humans cope with it, both those on the front lines and those who watch from afar. 

The grim and serious nature of the series is the way it is directly thanks to that theme. If life wasn’t always at risk, if it wasn’t treated as fragile, if death wasn’t respected and dwelled on and treated with the utmost permanence and seriousness, this theme would not work the way it does. Anything less runs the risk of just looking like glorification while merely saying the opposite. Admittedly there’s a lot of people who still somehow think Attack on Titan glorifies war but that’s a whole other subject. A very impactful and relevant part of the story is one early on where humanity wins a huge battle, yet no one bothers to celebrate merely because the overwhelming weight of the dead hangs heavier than any related relief ever could. This kind of grim and depressing, yet honest storytelling about war is very common throughout the plot.

What it means to be a soldier, the intricate overlap of society, media, government, and economics on war, the will and the reason to fight, the sanctity of human life and the nature of sacrifice and finding meaning in meaningless and constant death are all discussed often and in detail in Attack on Titan and the grim realness of everything that happens in the story and the overall feeling of being unsafe it conveys are deeply important to allowing these themes and discussions to work as well as they do.

PHILOSOPHY AND PSYCHOLOGY

The last major aspect of the story that I think benefits greatly from the unrestrained reality and brutality of the series is the very unique philosophy and psychology that Isayama presents. Most of the points and lessons the characters learn through the story are not pleasant ones. Everything the characters go through and the utter bleakness of Attack on Titan’s world shapes everyone’s worldviews. People take small steps and make concessions to have hope in this world. Optimism is present plenty, but the way the characters experience optimism is still rife with sacrifice and harsh undeniable truths. 

This very unique perspective compared to a lot of similar media is refreshing in its own way and kept me questioning what I knew. You couldn’t often easily predict the conclusions characters would come to because they are not what you may have come to expect from other media. One major character, Erwin Smith, is a great example of the kind of ideas Attack on Titan will throw around. His character is labeled as a demon by some, but a hero by the same people as well. The necessity of pain and sacrifice underlies all progress and achievement and he knows it and so do many others, even if it’s hard to accept. Having to create guidelines bound by the rules and expectations of reality only makes them that much more applicable to real life and real war. 

Despite all this, the series never feels outright preachy. Characters dwelling on the meaning of what’s happening to them is specific to which character and which circumstances. It doesn’t feel nearly like the author is writing an essay about the way things are or should be while using characters as mouthpieces and more just people in a hard situation trying to make meaning out of the meaningless suffering around them. Agreeing or disagreeing with any point as a reader or viewer isn’t portrayed as wrong in any case it’s more a vehicle for thought as well as phenomenal character building.  Like real war, none of the questions presented have a genuine correct answer. The character Levi himself at some point in the story even admits that as a veteran in battle, he can never be truly sure of his choices.

CLOSING THOUGHTS

The amount of respect and purpose Attack on Titan treats its frequent suffering with is key to the experience as a whole. While a series with just good writing all around and good reasons for its fame, something that in my opinion makes it feel like something special and something that captivated me is the overall gravity of the story. Without being effective at intensity and discomfort as well as in dealing with said discomfort, the story just wouldn’t feel real. And if it doesn’t feel real, it won’t feel like it matters. This series matters quite a lot to myself and many others and I hope this is at least a glimpse as to why.

[toxicpineapple]

Please give me your amami essay, I'd like to know the TEA! I was also gonna ask for the mastermind essay, but honestly I REALLY wanna hear your thoughts on his characterization (and your thoughts on his shitty fanon characterization)

HOOO BOY OKAY. this is good, it gives me an excuse to procrastinate on reading that new amasai fic on the latest feed. (note that i REALLY WANT TO READ IT, i’m just anticipating commenting and tbh the spoons,,, i lack them. it’s okay though i’ll get over it.)

so!!! let’s start with general attitude, because i think that amami’s is really unique. he’s a subversive character. in general i feel like that was the biggest goal with his character design and personality combination-- he looks like a total playboy, kaede even comments as much moooore than once. but he’s the absolute opposite. i’ll rant about that in a bit. i’ve already gone off on a tangent and i said i was gonna talk about attitude.

amami is laid back, but not to the point of complacency. y’know what i mean? like, he’s relaxed, but he’s on his guard, too. his speaking style is pretty casual (typically he’ll greet people with a “hey,” whenever he’s slightly uncomfortable he’ll probably say “haha”... this isn’t necessarily a canon thing but i like it when people have him talking in sentence fragments. ex. “forgot to grab my jacket” or “wanted to get a snack” sort of thing) and that’s just,,, the type of person he is. he’s casual. it’s remarkable considering how wealthy amami is-- though bear in mind, he still IS wealthy, so there are bound to be things he doesn’t understand about people-- that he can be so normal and like, down to earth, in a way. when people mess around with him he’ll probably just laugh it off.

to cite a fic i read once that had REALLY phenomenal characterisation, imo, ouma ends up dumping a bucket of water on amami’s head (on accident; there are some semantics and i won’t get into it but again the fic is really good and funny and you should totally read it) and amami just squeezes out his shirt and makes a couple cracks before walking away. (sorry this isn’t meant to be a “dumping love on fics” post but GOD that fic is hysterical.) he’s an enabler too, at least i think so-- remember that anthology chapter where kaede, shuichi, and kaito are trying to catch ouma and kaito sets an “amami trap” to stop him? all ouma has to do is flutter his eyelashes and go “pleeeaaase let me go amam~niichan!” and then he just. he does. what a fucking doormat i can’t believe him.

he’s like that though. i feel like big brother stuff is kind of his weakness. (and not in a kinky way alright i will destroy you. he might make a joke about having a sister complex in one of his ftes but he DOESNT that joke was just tasteless COME ON RANTARO WHFKLDSJFK) which brings me to his whole older brother thing, because like,,, YEAH. guy grew up with twelve younger sisters!!! and he remarked in his ftes with shuichi that they’re mostly step sisters, which means he just.... has a nurturing personality. i mean amami is somewhat conservative (if you try to come on to him during salmon mode you will be brutally rebuffed; amami tells u to keep your horny thoughts to yourself, though you shouldn’t be ashamed of having them) so i imagine he’s not the biggest fan of his father’s tendencies-- not that i don’t NECESSARILY interpret his father’s behaviour as him sleeping around.... it’s possible he just likes children and deliberately marries women who already have kids so he can take them... i mean it’s exceedingly decent to keep considering ur step children to be your children after a divorce so i have a hard time reconciling this common image of rantaro’s dad as some kind of player figure with the impression i got of him in my head but that’s just my daddy issues coming into play again so ignore me-- and yet he still considers all his sisters to be his sisters.

not to mention he feels a great deal of like, responsibility, when it comes to taking care of them. i find it impossible to believe that all the losses were his fault. you could ARGUE that the one he tells you about with his younger sister was to be blamed on him? but i mean, amami is a child. he didn’t even know his sister was following him out. sure he blames himself for it but there’s no real good way to blame him just considering that,,, he’s a kid. and he was so young-- he was obviously so young-- when it happened. so like, not to be all Good and Bad on you, but i do feel that amami is fundamentally a good reason. and you SEE that too, in the killing game. i’m certain he was on the fence about trusting that note he woke up with. would you trust it? he had no memory whatsoever of writing it, all he had were the words “ultimate hunt” and a map of the school to guide his way. i imagine he wasn’t even sure if he should do what the note said. but then ryoma started talking about sacrificing himself for everyone else, and rantaro probably thought, “well... if i have a way to get us out of here, even if it doesn’t work, i can’t just let ryoma sacrifice himself without having tried.”

rantaro is self-reliant too, i think. in the talent development plan mukuro remarks that she noticed he was injured a good number of times, but never said anything about it because she felt like he was trying to keep it under wraps. (note: good idea for an amami and mukuro friendship fic. must write. someone remind me.) i think amami kind of feels isolated from his classmates? either because he has these perceived notions of like, independence and whatever, not burdening anybody else with his problems (honestly not to go chabashira on main but wtf men ask for help c’mon i promise if you find a person who’s worth being in ur life they won’t treat you like shit for feeling ur feelings) or just because he’s not around a lot. i think amami is the type of person to invalidate his own problems a lot, or at least downplay them to others. he blames himself for all his sisters going missing, took the responsibility to find them all. you know the blow that’s going to be to his education? traveling around the world looking for twelve different people? and he plans to keep doing that!!! forever!!! ugh ;-; poor babey. but anyway i feel like he doesn’t want to tell anybody about his problems because he feels like it’s his thing to deal with.

i also believe that rantaro is a bit prideful. i mean, anyone can be prideful under the correct circumstances, and in fact there is a great deal of pride that simply isn’t addressed by the fandom in analysing characters and that makes me really sad because pride is such a SEXY character flaw but i’ll leave that alone for now. he hates being told to give up on what he’s doing. i mean everyone in his life has been telling him to stop looking for his sisters. that’s got to suck, but also, DAMN look at what his reaction was. this utter refusal to open up to anybody. shuichi’s ftes with him are spent pretty much just trying to get amami to stop squirreling around and actually TALK to him. amami asks shuichi at one point if he has any siblings and when the response is negative, amami immediately assumes that shuichi wouldn’t understand, would tell him to quit. just like everyone else.

(i mean, even with kiyo and mukuro, whose circumstances mirror his almost painfully at least in willingness to sacrifice stuff for their siblings, he doesn’t tell them what he’s doing, just that he’s doing it for his sister-- singular-- and that he would do anything for her. kiyo and mukuro!! out of ANYBODY, they would understand. in tdp they DO talk about it-- kiyo encourages him to keep searching-- as his friend...... fuck amaguji is such a good ship even if the implications of kiyo saying he wants to meet rantaro’s sister after he finds her bc she must be suuuuch a good person if he’s doing all this for her are uhhh not great-- and mukuro immediately understands when he says it’s to do with his younger sister. like, full stop. she just goes “okay” and goes serious. all at once. damn rantaro, mukuro, and kiyo really do be a power trio huh. i need to write more fic about them i miss them.)

this is more into baseless conjecture so take this as you will, but i also think rantaro is kind of,,, easily distracted lmao. he mentions helping out a village with a disease-- been a while since i’ve seen his ftes, sorry for any inconsistencies-- among other shit and like... bro what are you DOING. you have sisters to find. and he can’t be getting injured all the time, getting wrapped up with gang violence and all that, looking for people who were lost traveling. i mean sure, you could say they went all over the world and got wrapped up in all sorts of mess, but more likely they stayed in roughly the same area, waiting for him to come back. and also? i have a hard time believing his sisters were lost in these remote forest places people always put them. COME ON, who the fuck goes to some village for a vacation? a RICH person no less. i’m on another tangent. sorry. but yeah, i love the people who write rantaro as an absolute airhead. i headcanon that he has no way of judging the passing of time and thus is the absolute worst in the bathroom bc he sits there for twenty minutes thinking about the universe and then walks out like “:) ok ready to go” like wtf are you even doing there stupid akljdf anyway.

i think rantaro is softhearted and thoughtful. in his ftes with kaede he demonstrates an ability to look past what people show at surface level-- you can ask him about miu, kiibo, or kiyo and he’ll give u Good Fucking Insight(tm)-- and analyse their intentions more closely. and i mean this is just from a couple day’s interaction. he’s down to earth for sure, understanding when people are intimidated but also caring and observant. (his “talk about a first impression” line is so fuckaindgf.... good for his characterisation. i love romantic amamatsu but he so clearly takes an older brother role in those ftes, he’s really such a sweetheart,,,, hnadhfkj ;w;) rantaro is just. he’s patient with people. and selfless and kind. idk it’s all the good stuff. warm smiles and indulgence. all the way. probably lets kokichi steal his lunch.

THAT BEING SAID: i think rantaro also has a very serious streak. he doesn’t show it a lot but there are moments. he’s self-sacrificing-- i mean, obviously. he was the ultimate survivor, after all. some people hc that he got there by killing, or maybe everyone else in his game died but one person, but bro that doesn’t make any sense???? no. what happened was there were probably like three people left, and monokuma was like “one has to be sacrificed” and rantaro thought, welp. it’ll be me then. and i wouldn’t say the choice would be immediate because rantaro DOES has self preservation instincts-- he’s only human-- but i don’t think he’d have let anybody else make that decision. i think ultimately he would try to protect other people.

he can be scarily confrontational too. i do believe he’d usually only do it in the defense of others-- like, his base instinct is to protect. i read a fic once (oumami, unfortunately) where ouma was committing crimes and went to hide behind rantaro and rantaro instinctively moved to protect him, and that’s.... that’s good characterisation. point one to the oumami stans, point zero to me. motherfucker. (love u oumami stans, it’s just not my thing.) i really like it in fics when he’s stern, lecturing people for hurting other people, but i also think rantaro is too understanding to be truly unforgiving. like if two people got into an argument and one came out of it more hurt than the other, i don’t believe that amami would be unsympathetic to the less hurt one. i think he’s mature enough to take a look at the situation and go, well, okay.

i think he’d be TERRIFYING when angry. he’s patient, y’know? so it takes a lot to get him to that point. he’s really, ah, accommodating of people. puts up with a lot of bs kind of thing. but i imagine the best way to get him to snap is by hurting someone he cares about. and at that point: ur fucked. i’ve never written it before because i’m terrified of what i’d do with that kind of power but.... imagine the shuichi whump. holy god.

i’m NOT here to talk about shuichi whump (though i’m down to do that any time of day believe me) so i’m gonna like. shhhhiiiiiiffft.

i project on characters a lot so at this point it’s difficult to distinguish if some of my characterisation things are like, actually characterisation things? or just me venting, so like, take nothing i say as canon, but also,,, akdsjf we love a man who bottles up his emotions.

because rantaro just doesn’t have the TIME to be crying all over the place. he was probably a total wreck when he lost his first sister. and his second. and maybe even his third. but then he started to gather his composure, more and more. because if there’s anything that rantaro has in excess, it’s composure. the more losses he suffers the more of a shield he builds up. and the self hatred and the guilt and the blame and the responsibility are piling up and up and up, but god he hates it when other people see him sad, because he needs to be the strong one, he can’t just pile that up on other people. that’s not their weight to carry, and besides, he’s the older brother, he should be able to deal with his own problems. he’d just be burdening the people he cares about by letting them see his demons.

and then he doesn’t have any coping mechanisms because he never lets himself feel enough to cope, and when people get close enough to actually CARE about him, when people notice he’s upset or struggling and offer him help, he doesn’t know how to deal with it-- and god he hates lashing out at people but it’s so much easier to deal with the consequences of being mean than the consequences of breaking down. only conflict is scary when he’s one of the causes so he needs time to recover, and well, what better way to do that than to get on a plane or a boat and go look for his sisters? after all he’s wasting time whenever he’s just sitting around, they’re still out there and he needs to find them, so might as well just keep pushing himself to the limits, because it’s his fault they’re lost anyway...

something mukuro said to rantaro in the talent development plan stuck in my brain. like, initially it’s just a funny and cute interaction (rantaro even blushes and a blushing rantaro is a GOOD FUCKING RANTARO) but when i thought about it more i was like.... huh. hm. angst ideas. mukuro makes a joke about rantaro going over to her stand at the festival to flirt with her-- i think that’s the context, i know it’s play-boy related-- and rantaro assures her (as he always does) that he’s not that kind of guy, and mukuro agrees, saying she was just pulling his leg and that he seems like the kind of person who gets dumped because he doesn’t show his emotions enough. rantaro laughs, blushes, and says “haha, not touching that one,” and akdjfnnnnnn god mukuro you’re so blunt i love you fkdjf but wow. i usually have rantaro as not having dated anyone, just because i feel like he kind of hyperfocuses on finding his sisters? and given that he’s like sixteen (seventeen at the MOST) there’s not much of a timeline for when his sisters got lost. in my fic search i had to cram all the losses into a four-year period and damn that was rough. anyway i just don’t think he’d really prioritise romance. but that reaction implies that that’s EXACTLY his experience with romance, which makes a bit of sense because mukuro is ridiculously sharp, and also it’s,, it’s just sad idk poor rantaro. getting dumped because he’s like the emotional equivalent of a doorknob when it comes to his own feelings.

i do think rantaro is a bit cowardly. not in the sense that he’d shy away from danger-- i think he’d RUSH INTO IT HEAD FIRST because he’s a man or whatever, i know he respects women but he does seem to hold some of those very stereotypically masculine ideals of constantly protecting those around him, which is like.... ok toxic masculinity mcgee can u and kaito stop throwing hands every time u see each other ty-- but more in the sense that he avoids,,, confrontation. emotional confrontation just ain’t his thing. and i think he’d rather run away from it or otherwise find some way of ignoring it than try to address his problems.

he would, with that in mind, probably try to associate with people who don’t push the matter. kiyo and mukuro, for example. they both have a fair amount of baggage themselves so they’d probably be respectful. ryoma is lowkey enough that he just, he wouldn’t bring that shit up, that’s uncool. i also think rantaro would get along REALLY WELL with kaito, and i actually don’t think kaito would pull his sidekick stuff with him? just because in a way they’re kind of kindred spirits, and i think kaito would see an ally in rantaro before seeing someone to try to nurture, so they’d probably have some kind of a truce like, if you don’t force me to be vulnerable, i won’t force you. one of the reasons why i love amamota so much is because it involves the two of them growing to care about each other beyond that sort of unhealthy camaraderie and breaking down each other’s barriers and i just..... hhnnfhhdkfj they could be so good for each other but nobody wants to talk about thatjslfkj

you weren’t asking for my amamota mess lmao sorry anon i get sidetracked SO easily. but yeah, amami gravitates towards people who wouldn’t try to get him to be more honest with himself. and i honestly think the v3 cast would be pretty good about that overall, except for shuichi who is a detective and has a habit of sticking his nose in places it shouldn’t be, but i see no reason to write that out because amami’s ftes already display that beautifully. (well, that’s a lie, i’m absolutely plotting out a slowburn in my head already that involves shuichi stripping down his walls one by one, but forget about all of that rn we don’t need to talk about why amasaimota is my ot3.) also he is softer on childish people like ouma and himiko. ain’t nobody wants to TALK TO ME about how brilliant it would be if rantaro and hiyoko were friends because hiyoko has such problems in that department and he would take one look at her and go hm. i’m adopting her. and he’s so fucking patient and nice and she’d lose the will to make fun of him and i have to do ALL THE GODDAMN WORK AROUND HERE but it’s fine. at least i get to write it.

i’ve described the fundamentals of his characterisation pretty well by now i think. i have some throwaway headcanons, like uhh,,

he’s claustrophobic

plays the guitar and the ukulele

he prefers warm weather and perishes in the cold

high pain tolerance

he’s a Good Cook

doesn’t like sex jokes (they make him uncomfortable)

asexual (i do like a good demisexual hc at all times of day tho)

master of piggyback rides

does his own piercings

impulsive as hell

gets lost easily but can always find his way back

has a lot of scars from travels

hands are rough and calloused (again from travels)

morning person

smells like evergreen (you know i had to, you know i did)

Radiates Heat Like A Fucking Toaster Oven

good hugs

hates tying his shoelaces

likes being the big spoon :)

has a tongue piercing

i said “some throwaway headcanons” but i ended up listing way more than i mean to. i’ll make a separate list of my rantaro headcanons someday and talk about them all in detail but for now, uh, there’s that.

SO AS FOR THE RANTARO CHARACTERISATIONS I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE:

god where to fucking begin. actually i know exactly where to begin. it’s my least favourite one just because, like i said at the very beginning, rantaro is a subversive character. i mean i think he’s kind of a low hanging fruit when it comes to that. there are plenty of other subversive characters in the dr series but rantaro is like that. you expect a flirt and u get,,, a sweetheart. but then some people (usually the ones who ship him with female characters exclusively though i will see it on occasion in an amasai or oumami fic) decide to throw that out the window and make him a total playboy!! and listen, i have no problem with people who are a little flirty. we’re kids!! flirt ur heart out!!! and hey, that’s not what this is about but y’know what? so long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, then yeah!! exercise your sexual freedom and sleep with whoever you want to!!! i don’t think there’s anything wrong with messing around a little, dating who u wanna and experimenting with ur tastes and preferences. if rantaro WAS a playboy, then there would be nothing wrong with that. i would love him just the same because he’s such a fundamentally GOOD character.

except that.... he’s.......... NOT. you slaughter one of the biggest aspects of his character by throwing away what matters to him and making him some hunky-deep-voice-dreamboat dude meant to sweep kaede/tsumugi/whomsteverthefuck off her feet. rantaro is one of those characters where he’s so blatantly not that kind of person, and it’s like. it’s an affront, almost, to portray him that way? and i do believe you should have the freedom to write what you want, since we’re in that age (aside from romanticised pedophilia and incest; that shit ain’t cute, i say this often but pro-ship DNI) where u should be able to take some liberties, but it’s just. hnnn. it’s so frustrating. rantaro does not know how to smolder! if he DID smolder, he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it. he doesn’t have people lying at his feet, okay? he’s too flaky for that. i wouldn’t say he’s unreliable but he definitely ain’t at school as much as he should be.

another one that i hate: st-stalker? what the fuck? that is not sexy that is creepy and weird?

another another one that i hate: yandere? what the FUCK??? that is not sexy that is glorified ABUSE???? the yandere trope is AWFUL bc you’re taking a controlling relationship and turning it into a fetish. NO. if he limits ur contact with other people, if he follows u everywhere, if he threatens ur loved ones, if he tries to control you, ladies and gents and nonbinaries, he’s not a yandere, he’s an abuser and you need a fucking restraining order. actually, people of ANY gender or sex can perpetuate this behaviour and IT IS NOT CUTE. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT BOUNDARIES U SET IN PLACE, IF YOUR FREEDOM IS BEING RESTRICTED THAT IS ABUSE.

hate it when people make rantaro violent. hate it when people make rantaro a murderer. hate it when people make rantaro controlling. hate it when people make rantaro overtly sexual. some kind of sultry deep voice dominant kind of figure. dude, what the fuck? i don’t,, want to make any public comments about sex positions because i think that’s kind of Strange to just talk about on a post, but i do think that the way people portray him for their smuts is,,, idk it’s weird. i’m not gonna kinkshame u but like. :eyes:

i will however accept rantaro as a thrillseeker, or a highstrung rich boy, or a total space cadet, or a himbo, or a cryptid. these are all very good interpretations of the Mans. just, like. be wary of making him two dimensional. a good character is multifaceted. if you can take a trait that clashes with all of these and SELL ME ON IT, i will buy it. if u give me good justifications, or even just good writing?? then i will accept it.

the long and the short of it is, anon, he’s my favourite so i think about him a lot. i love writing rantaro. he’s just, he’s a Guy. y’know? He’s A Good Dude, If You’ll Give Him A Shot. :) we don’t get to see very much of him but i think that there’s plenty of material if you overanalyse everything, which, as you probably all know by now,,,, i absolutely do.

thank you for the ask, this was a delight to spend an hour talking about.