#also did you know it's really hard to take pictures of this without the shadow from my phone showing. evil.

[transsongtaewon]

It's still him because he's just as traumatised and unwell as before :-)

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hii, this is my first time requesting and I wanted to know if you could do an Alastor x hard to get fem reader, who is somewhat stronger than him in the beginning, but as Alastor fights more overlords he gets stronger and tries to woo her into a relationship with him and she is just not having it. Maybe he goes as far as killing a member of the Goetia family to prove his strength but in turn makes the reader like panic and cast him away from her. Maybe Alastor wins her back by taking care of someone that’s been bother her than she doesn’t have time to deal with, like a stalker or something. I hope this wasn’t too much, I just really love your writing!

A/N: kiss your brain i love this so much!!! I love writing for Alastor and i’m so excited for the show to come out so this makes me extra excited!! I haven’t written in a little while so I apologize if this was a bit off, still getting into the swing of things! But I hope this was good!

Warnings: Obsessiveness, slight yandere!, murder, power trip, mentions of death, cannibalism, mentions of blood

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!

Hard to get

Meeting you wasn’t something Alastor thought would affect him as much as it did

You were different, but a different that scared him and he hated that

Your power and calmness together sent shivers down his spine, it gave him an adrenaline he had been craving and he didn’t even know it

After his fight with you he had fled, to hide away bask in your energy

He had gone as far as studying you from afar, watching the way you carried yourself and the way you went about your day

He would become stronger than you, to take you down but to also have you as his own; his bride

In his eyes you were a prize to be cherished, someone to love so dearly you wouldn’t need to lift a finger again

He had talked to you during a meeting with other overlords, after everyone was done cowering from his power

You were quiet, stoic and didn’t say much- hell you didn’t even spare him a glance

¨Hello dear!¨Alastor said calmly to you after the meeting.

You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him with a blank face, waiting for him to continue

¨May I help you?¨You asked, and he just grinned

¨Why yes you may! I couldn’t help but take notice to how awfully somber you looked all by your lonesome and felt it was my duty to accompany you.¨He said with a grin, leaning down to get a better look at your features.

¨I was actually doing quite fine before you came along thank you.¨You say, facing away from him and turning your nose up slightly. You clearly couldn’t be bothered to socialize with someone like him. His smile stretched painfully wide and he fought every urge to pull you to him right there.

¨Well I-¨

You cut him off

¨If you wouldn’t mind, the stench of blood is heavily present on you and I’d appreciate it if you cleaned yourself up properly and kindly left me alone. I’d hate to have a repeat of our first meeting.¨You said, side eyeing him.

He was stunned to say the least, and without another word, walked away from you, his dignity in shards at his feet.

You had really pushed him over this edge and a part of him was living for it but the other part really wanted to burn the entire city down.

Weeks went by and he was silent for a while, pondering over your words and what you had said. Clearly your standards were high, higher than him by far. He would have to play better.

He began taking his anger out on other overlords, claiming territory day by day and night by night. His carnage all over the radio, for you to hear. His subliminal message to you, that he was a changed man. Ready to be the man you needed him to be.

¨Please, whatever you want Ill give it to you, just please enough of this!¨ The overlord shrieked as Alastor rummaged through their belongings, his shadows making work of their lower ranked demons.

He stops when he sees a picture of you on their wall, a photo, where you were actually smiling.

Words couldn’t express how his dead heart felt, he was in such a state of shock he didn’t even remember killing the poor overlord. What a shame, and here he thought he could’ve asked some good questions about you.

He keeps the picture for himself, along with a file the overlord had made about you

Clearly you were smarter than you let on, because the file was made up of small things almost anyone could gather about you- poised, confident, but quiet

Alastor had made his way to where you resided, a large estate in a rural area, with a tower attached to the back of the building. It was gorgeous and seemingly had you written all over it.

Stepping onto the front grounds, he took notice to how the grass was withered and dead, but sharp black roses decorated the steps leading up to you’re front door. It was so elegant, so precise. So much so he had fallen in love all over again.

He hadn’t bothered to get flowers, knowing you would probably take them and kill them right in front of him.

Knocking on the door three times he waited quietly, hearing light footsteps make their way to the door.

A smaller, frail woman opened the door, and he smiled politely down at her.

¨Hello sir, I believe her majesty is not available right now. Though she expected your arrival. Would you care to come inside and wait for her with some hot tea?¨ The small woman asked.

Alastor just nodded and stepped inside, taking the interior in as best as he could, hoping to burn the image into his brain. The smaller woman led him through various halls, all elegantly decorated by your hand as she explained, before leading him to your study, a large library with a glass windows all around.

He took a seat, taking the liberty to put a record on, slowly humming to the jazz as he waited for your arrival.

Some time later you stepped in, Góetia prince in toe as you pulled a book from the higher shelves with your magic, handing it to the prince.

¨I believe this was all¨ was all you said. He nodded, the two of you giving Alastor a quick glance before shaking hands. The Goetia prince turned on his heel and left quickly, leaving you to deal with Alastor.

¨You have proven to be a constant thorn in my side.¨You sigh, sitting across from Alastor in your study. He just grins, finally happy to have some of your attention.

¨Well a thorn does belong on a rose, does it not?¨He asked, and you clicked your tongue.

¨Roses get their thorns cut off.¨You reply, still cold and monotone. There’s no expression on your face, and its then he takes in your appearance.

Dressed from head to toe in a long black dress that hugs you quite nicely. Your hair is done back, away from your face, making your features all the more present. You sit cross legged, and don’t say much else, waiting for a response.

¨Well that is also true.¨Alastor finally draws out. You hum, leaning back in your chair.

¨What it is you want from me?¨You ask finally, eyes shutting for a moment.

¨Well I-¨Alastor stops, the door opening to reveal the smaller woman again.

¨Excuse me your majesty, but the prince is back- and quite enraged.¨She said nervously, a loud crash coming from down the hall. You sigh, standing.

¨A moment please.¨You excuse yourself, leaving the study. The small woman stays inside, and Alastor decides to take this time to question her.

¨That prince, is he?¨Alastor asks, and the small woman shakes her head.

¨Goodness no, her majesty would never get with royalty. She’s trying to get away from that life.¨The small woman said. So the prince wasn’t your prince, that was for sure.

¨How long has she been down here?¨Alastor asks, knowing his arrival had been pretty recent.

¨twenty years. Died on March fifth, 1909.¨ The small woman said. ¨She was a child when she died, but thankfully to her power, she can continue to age as much as she wants here. Per her family’s request.¨ The woman said.

¨I hope you two are having fun gossiping.¨You said stepping back into the room, flicking a piece of glass off of your hand. Alastor sits up, now a bit more confident in talking to you.

¨Oh the most fun one could have.¨Alastor draws on, the small woman nodding to him as she steps out. You take your place back across from him, massaging your temples.

¨Lets get on with this shall we.¨You say, ¨I don’t know what you want from me. But let it be known I have felt you watching me, lurking as one would say. If you don’t want a detachment from your head to your torso I would politely suggest you leaving me alone.¨You say, your eyes sharper, but tone still calm. He could see the enragement behind your tone.

¨Why don’t we have dinner? I can explain much more than my dear.¨

¨Do not call me that.¨You say, and he laughs.

¨I will not be so easily swayed, unfortunately for you.¨He says grinning. He stands, tapping his staff on the ground to wake his radio up. ¨I do believe that my visit must be cut short. I have more sinners to erase!¨He grins happily, poofing himself out of the room and elsewhere thanks to his shadow.

You don’t hear from him for quite some time, and its almost comforting. He kept his distance at overlord meetings, even though fewer overlords were alive to be present thanks to him.

You had began getting small gifts, and seeing shadows whenever you turned corners. Almost like a mind game. Though you were sure it was him, you had more important things to tend too than his childish games.

It wasn’t until you had gotten home from the Goetia ball that you were face to face with him again.

In the foyer of your home, black tiles stained red, Alastor stood in the middle of the mess. The Goetia prince beheaded in your home.

¨What have you done?!¨You yelled, panic settling in. Alastor had worked so hard for this. A Goetia prince? Hell royalty was a new kill for him truly.

¨He wont bother you anymore my dear, of course I had hoped the mess would be cleaned by now but the fight he put up was quite time consuming.¨He said with a chuckle.

¨Alastor get out. Now.¨You said, and it was then he had froze. You were surrounded by an aura of black smoke, breathing heavy and eyes going full white. The room had began to get darker, and the doors behind you flung open, wind raging as he fought to keep his feet planted on the ground.

¨Cant we just-¨

¨I said- get, out.¨You said, swapping places with him in a blink of an eye, having his body pushed through your doorway with the wind, sending him into the forest far away from your home.

It had been ten years since then.

Alastor had felt defeated. He had tried all he could. Gifts, flowers, cleaning up your messes that you refused to admit were yours. Hed taken out such awful suitors who thought they had a chance with you.

It wasn’t until the next overlord meeting, when you didn’t show up, he had gotten worried. He knew he should’ve stayed away. But he just couldn’t. He hadn’t looked you in the eye for so long, but putting his own fear judgment aside, he decided to check up on you. Rosie, a friend he had acquired, had told him one visit wouldn’t hurt.

He found your doors wide open, the area eerily quiet, the dust coating your home entirely out of character for you. A man stood in your foyer, calling your name over and over frustrated.

¨ Please Y/n,talk to me! Anything!¨He said. The man was trying his hardest to get you to show yourself.

¨Excuse me.¨ Alastor said, and the man turned to look at him.

¨Who the fuck are you?¨ The man asked, and Alastor just smiled.

¨ Someone you’re going to wish you never met.¨ he said. The man doesn’t have time to react, his bones breaking on him, as he collapses on the floor with a loud shriek of pain. It draws out for a bit before the man finally dies, a slice to his chest shutting him up as he chokes on his own blood. Alastor hums as his shadows make quick work of cleaning the mess he made. He knew you hated your tiles stained.

¨Alastor?¨ You ask, standing at the top of the staircase. Your hair is down, still in the same dress Alastor had memorized so well. He smiles, his dead heart freezing over at the sight of you.

¨hello dear. Forgive me for my sudden intrusion. You weren’t at todays meeting and I thought to check up on you.¨He said, pulling a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiping his hands with it. You walked down the steps slowly, taking in the shadows working on the now dead man on your floor.

¨ Did you do this?¨You asked, looking through the open door of your home. Your voice was softer than before. You looked a mess, but almost put together in a way. As if you were only slightly losing your mind.

¨Yes.¨He said, taking your hand and pulling you closer to him. He figured this was his last shot with you. Now that he had you here, he had to take advantage.

¨Mon cheri, I know you casted me away all those years ago. But I have you here now, and I cannot hold this will in my heart any longer without telling you.¨He said, his other hand turning your face to have you look at him. Your eyes were different this time, something he couldn’t read. But still, he kept on. ¨ I believe my love for you is strong in itself. I can protect you, you wont ever have to worry about some deadly sinner like this again. I know you didn’t believe I was capable of making you happy. But I must know now, if I am truly worthy of your love. I will do whatever it takes.¨ He said.

Your eyes were dark, with something he could only describe as pure lust. ¨Alastor please, you always were.¨You say with a smile. He had been so, immature before. But after years it seemed he changed, on the surface that was. Maybe you could give him a chance. Maybe he was worth coming out of the dark for a bit. Especially now, since he was stronger than you.

¨But, you must promise me something.¨ You say to him, and he nods quickly.

¨Of course.¨ He says. You grin at his willingness, and turn away from him, the mess he made now long gone.

¨Do not ever play me for a fool again.¨ You say. He stiffens and nods, hands as gently as possible reaching out for you.

He turns around around to face him, and almost jumps when he hears the doors to your home slam shut.

You don’t bat an eye, instead pulling him in by his tie and with a chuckle, eye his shadows as they snicker in a corner at the sight of the two of you. ¨ Dont worry, I know you wont.¨

Alastor just grinned, finally proud of himself. Not only had he gotten his power, no, he had gotten his hands on you as well.

[alllgator-blood]

hymns of the unholy drops tomorrow, I'm gonna make a track tier list but here's my initial thoughts before it comes out:

This feels worthy of a "read more" just because there's no pictures to look at and it's four paragraphs. TL;DR the album is very cheesy but I'm literally so excited I'm gonna stay up all night so I can listen to the new album the second it drops. The overly critical part of my brain is telling me I shouldn't derive enjoyment from this album unironically but I'm not gonna obey, I am cringe and free and I'm gonna crank this shit with no shame cause it's the game I like...IN MUSIC FORm

[gif meant to represent me randomly busting it down leshy style when I'm home alone, and singing "THE END AWAITS AS THE OLD FAITH TAKES THE LAST OF MY KIIIIINDDDD" over and over]

The lamb's song was kickass and if I heard it in the wild without knowing there was a metal album for this game, I'd spontaneously combust from sheer excitement. It's instantly recognizable and that's kinda all I wanted from it tbh! I've mentioned before that I'm way more of a djent/shoegaze/sludge fan when it comes to metal rather than the genre these songs have been, but I'm literally so excited the bishops are getting some kind of inclusion in a project that I'm gonna crank this album even if it reminds me of the shadow the hedgehog game soundtrack. Tbh this one is so solid that if they JUST announced this one and didn't make the others, I'd still think it'd stand alone quite well for what it is! Edit: I said I'm cringe and free, why did I spend half this section dunking on the genre.....

Leshy's song..........was totally lame but in an epic way, like the first time I listened to it I thought it was fine! But when I actually read the lyrics I had tears streaming down my face from laughter. I screamed out loud when the guy basically says "btw my name is leshy :)", the lyrics are actually so fucking bad. But c'mon it's LESHY he's the littlest brother, if anyone got a corny ass song it should really be him. The shredding solo at the end is fucking hilarious and if he was in charge of his own song, he 10000% would request that specific ending. Musically, this one sounds the least like the source material so far but it's got that arpeggio from his + amdusias' theme and that's arguably the most iconic part. Also, "DAYLIGHT WILL COME UNDONE AS WE ECLIPSE THE SUN" is insane and is the best part besides describing his blindness as "ETERNAL NIGHTFALL"

Heket's song...........It has my favorite lyrics so far but the vocal work after the 40 second mark had to grow on me. I can't describe it but it sounds like that post grunge style and as a grunge fan, post grunge is my biggest opp in the music world. I was hoping they'd get a female singer for this but for heket specifically I can understand why they didn't. The actual lyrics in the song are fuckin badass, when it gets to the "MAKE YOUR PEACE, CREATURE" part I always turn it up to a deafening volume because it goes BALLISTIC. Genuinely my favorite part of any of these songs so far. I adore that her characterization in this song is layered and isn't just "I'm leshy, I'm made of plants or something and also I'm gonna kill you", it goes through her arc PERFECTLY imo!! Instrumentals in this one are better than the leshy song as well, I really like that they brought back the pitch bending/choppy sampling from the ost for this one

I'm on my hands and knees begging for the shamura song to be good, the leshy song had me worried but they came in clutch for heket. If they don't work in shamura's iconic lines from the game, I'm gonna cry inside I think- I'll forgive a lame kallamar song but ONLY if it's funny. Narinder's theme is gonna be hard to fuck up imo I have faith it'll be top tier

[inkdemonapologist]

My BatDR Take That Used To Be Hot But I Left It Out On The Windowsill To Cool So You Should Be Able to Eat It Now Without Burning Your Tongue

its not actually that hot, is what im saying

Anyway my BatDR hot take is that BatDR's story is not fundamentally worse than BatIM with one exception; an exception that, for BatIM, covers a multitude of sins:

BatIM has a theme.

I can't presume the intentions of the creators, but if I had to write an essay on the themes in BatIM, it wouldn't be hard to pick one out: the cost of obsession, or even just, the ruin Joey brought on the studio. In the very first chapter, Henry asks "Joey, what were you doing?" and every single thing in the rest of the game revolves around that central question: what WAS Joey doing? Each audiolog is a snippet of the studio's path to this messed up state; each character you meet is someone ruined by Joey. The major antagonists echo Joey's flaws -- obsession with Bendy as more than a cartoon, obsession with perfection, obsession with fame and greatness and legacy -- but even without that, they're also each a picture of how the lives of people caught in the path of Joey's dream were ruined by it. Bertrum, for example, doesn't match the concept of rubberhose cartoons, but as yet another person screwed over by Joey, he fits the central question of the story, so he feels like he belongs here. Ultimately, in a narrative sense, the Ink Demon isn't the story's monster -- Joey is; the Ink Demon is just the consequence of his reckless ambition.

But what's the theme or central question of BatDR?

You can... try to pick out a theme. There's some promising options, because it feels like the story WANTED a theme, stating its emotional intentions more overtly -- "there's always a choice" to leave the darkness and chose hope; family and the struggle of living in a heavy legacy's shadow; or even just good old mewtwo-brand The Circumstance's Of One's Birth Are Irrelevant, It Is What You Do With The Gift Of Life That Determines Who You Are.

I think, even WITH the clumsy execution of Joey's "arc" and Audrey's lack of real choices, any of those could work about as well as BatIM. But unlike BatIM, the majority of the game doesn't tie in. Joey's tour can be considered relevant -- a picture of the family legacy and the "darkness" that Audrey doesn't yet know she's inheriting -- but like, the audiologs and hints and environment of BatDR are mostly teasing the question of What Is Gent Up To, and the takeover of Gent is detached from Audrey's choices, her family, her legacy, and Gent never really becomes a relevant threat to those things in this game. The Cult of Amok and the Ghost Train have nothing to do with any of these ideas. It might've been neat if Audrey had ever considered, "Did my father really drive all these people insane?", a hint of actually having to wonder about the darkness in her past. Even Wilson only barely brushes against these concepts; he doesn't like Joey and he also is trying to escape his family's heavy legacy, but it doesn't really reflect on his actions and we don't find that last part out until he's about to be dead.

There's also the question Wilson poses of "real" people versus ink creations, and what counts as valid "life." It would be an interesting theme with a lot to build off of in this setting, it ties into Wilson more as Wilson seems to represent the opinion that Inky Things Aren't Really Alive, which could've tied to Audrey (as an ink-person who has yet to accept that part of herself) and maybe given Wilson a reason to think it's fine to sacrifice her, it could've even tied to Gent (who don't even seem to value human life) -- but after Wilson asks the question, it doesn't tie into the direction things go. He smooshes a little Bendy, we see hints of his disregard for Betty, and then everyone continues with their plan to destroy the Ink Demon without any further moral quandaries about inky life.

The thing is, when you compare an element like, say, audiologs, there's a lot of differences you can point to -- but I don't actually think Lacie Benton's audiolog is notably better, taken on its own, than Grace Conway's or Kitty Thompson's, and yet tons of people were intrigued enough to flesh out Lacie. None of them are big plot points or compelling characters on their own; Lacie and Grace both give us a little note on what it's like working in the Studio, and Kitty shares a little bit on how Gent's expansion is affecting people. But when Lacie talks about Bertrum trying to make a creepy animatronic, that ties back into Joey's ill-fated schemes that are the point of the whole story. The question we're asking through the whole game is "what happened here?" so the fandom is interested in who Lacie is and what her life was like and extrapolates a whole person out of a couple sentences. But that's not the question in BatDR -- what has Wilson done to the Cycle and the Demon? Why? Who is Audrey really, and why is she here? Telling us new things about the Studio's fate seems strangely irrelevant to those questions, just an attempt to create a Mystery To Speculate On like the previous game did... but what question you're asking and how it fits into your story's main theme, like, matters. I absolutely believe that one clock animator guy would've been in EVERYONE'S crew if he'd been introduced in BatIM, but the context makes a difference; fleshing him out feels less relevant here.

The explanations of how and why Wilson did everything he did are baffling and handwavey, but in and of itself that's not a worse problem than anything else in the franchise -- I STILL don't understand why the Ink Machine needs pipes in the walls or even how it works, there's no good reason for Sammy to believe the Ink Demon will "set him free," most of Alice's motives don't make sense, etc etc etc. But the thing is that in BatDR, the wibbly bit is the closest thing to a central question we have! Wilson, what were you doing? The theme doesn't really explore or connect to that question, so the explanations that are finally tossed our way feel lacking in a way that BatIM's handwaved elements don't. There's a lot about Joey's motivation in BatIM that we can't know, but the heart of it resonates -- Joey wanted something, he was willing to exploit people to get it, and he became obsessed and prioritised that dream at any cost. We'll weather a thousand logistical inconsistencies if it's got heart.

But all of that said.... to be honest, I don't think Lacie overtly fits that theme anyway. Even, like, Sammy is iffy -- we don't really know what happened to him, only that he didn't used to be made of ink and worship Bendy, and now he does. We assume Joey's nonsense had something to do with what happened to him (though the books later assert his influence was indirect at best), because when there's a pattern, we can fill in the blank. So many fan creators found a place for Lacie, Grant, and Shawn in the cycle as butcher clones or lost ones, so many people imagined that Wally must be the Boris we meet, because that would've fit the pattern, the idea that the point of what we're seeing is the downfall of the studio. It's not actually that BatIM did a great job tying everything together -- it's that BatIM gave us a compelling idea and that was all it took to make everything else SEEM like it could find a place to fit. This is what I mean when I say BatIM's theme covers a multitude of sins. There's a LOT of characters in BatIM that don't make sense. There's a lot of inconsistencies and things that just sort of happen without any real reason. Characters don't really have "arcs" so much as different states they happen to be in at different times. But because there's a central question and the story doesn't wander away from it, our pattern-loving human brains will slot in all the pieces and do all the work to make the story feel at least somewhat coherent.

The things that happened in BatDR aren't a whole lot less coherent than BatIM imo, they just don't tie into a bigger theme or any of the questions the story's asking, making "how do they fit into all this" feel irrelevant, making it easier to forget entire sections and harder to get invested in audiolog characters. I think a lot of the other criticisms people have for BatDR's story are very valid, but I also suspect that if BatDR had a more successful theme/central question, then a lot of its flaws would be easier to overlook -- just like BatIM.

[mirukosbitchywife]

bnha pro heros with a vigilante s/o

aizawa, hawks, midnight, fatgum, miruko

vigilante reader is a pretty tame vigilante they pretty much just do heroic deeds but without a license so no one really cares much since ur not hurting anyone besides some bumps and scrapes, probably ooc? idk this is how i see them, not proofreading so if it sucks my bad, no warnings for anything i don't think, it's just fluff

midnight/nemuri:

-honestly you're probably not even the first vigilante she's dated, if there's one thing nemuri is gonna do it's whatever the fuck she wants lmao

-she's def the type of person to be like rules are meant to be broken

-nemuri LOVES going out with you, you better pray you don't have a recognizable face because there's no way you're getting out of going out to dinner and her dragging you shopping and her showing you off any chance she gets(not that you'd want to get out of that stuff i mean. it's nemuri)

-nemuri prefers working night shifts even when not working at ua so she can force you to take a break when she takes hers and she always packs you food <3

-she also prefers night shifts so you both can protect each other, shadowing one another in case one of you gets over your heads, the other one never being too far

-she probably has a lot of cats and by default they're your cats so usually while nemuris gone at ua you're playing with her cats. (nemuri probably has hundreds of pictures of you with a cat on top of you after you fell asleep)

-her favorite time of day is when you're both home and sweaty from fighting, your end of day routine always starts with taking a bath together, washing grime off the other, using the tenderness to reset your minds after a long day

-she loves to pamper you, do your nails, face masks, anything you want ,and uses her quirk slightly on you after a particularly rough day, and for her rough days you always make sure she gets a foot massage and glass of wine with a book <3

miruko/rumi:

-is so aggressively supportive of the vigilante thing she'd see you out beating the shit out of a villain and be like BEAT THEIR ASS BABE GET EM

-insists on you training with her. if you want to be a vigilante you gotta be in shape enough to go toe to toe with the number 5 pro hero

-absolutely kicks your ass in training but it's okay bc she gives you kisses every time you pin her <3

-if you're not immediately recognizable as a vigilante she Will take you to the boring hero shit she has to go with. no one's willing to get close enough to you besides hawks, because if you're with her she'll glare down anyone who tries to approach her and hawks is the only one brave enough to get closer (she also trusts hawks the most out of all of them and knows hes no snitch)

-has a sixth sense for when you're in trouble, so if you're ever in over your head in the same city as her ur opponent better start praying

-y'all's end of day routine always starts with rumi ranting about her day while you cook dinner for the both of you, then it's your turn to rant while she cleans the dishes after dinner

-on especially hard days for you, rumi gives a mean back massage that leaves you putty in her hands, on rumis hard days you always do her hair. she finds it so relaxing and loves the styles you do on her and will proudly wear whatever you did as long as she can

hawks/keigo:

-keigo would be a vigilante if he wasn't taken in by the commission. 100% he would not have stopped saving lives even if he got in trouble for it. he might even fuck around and manage to get you an actual hero license if you want one, even a fake one to get out of trouble if you need it

-basically. even as the number two hero he's no snitch and in fact really respects what you do. you guys probably met trying to save the same civilian or something and hit it off immediately

-he lets you follow him on patrols, absolutely no fucks. almost everyone thinks you're just one of his sidekicks and you basically act as one without the hero license. would just use his feathers to carry you away from any particularly hard ass heros (cough endeavor cough) if he needs to

-doesn't have a lot of friends but the ones he does have know all about you (including everything keigo gushes to them about you ugh) and they also don't care, they trust him as a person and a hero so by default they trust you

-probably also insists on training you but most of your spars end up in making out because he has no self control when it comes to you but you're not complaining

-end of day routine with keigo would def start with you two dancing in keigos living room, he just sweeps you up and starts dancing out of no where, doesn't even need music, the sound of you laughing at his antics is music enough for him, you've come to expect it every day when he comes home and it's one of the things you miss most when he's gone on a longer mission

-your rough days always end with you flying, even if you can fly using your own quirk, there's something about being held to the chest of the man you love while he flys through the night sky, placing unwavering trust in him to not let you fall while you admire the stars always makes your heart full, and for keigos rough days, you always preen his feathers, he's not used to anyone touching them besides his fans grabbing at him, so nothing relaxes him more than the feeling of your fingers in his feathers, straightening and adjusting them for him as you go

fatgum/taishiro:

-taishiro is just That Guy yk u guys probably met because he picked you up by your scruff during a fight you were losing and he jumped in all heroic like *swoons*

-him being That Guy /pos and all his only reaction after dealing with the villain is to put you down and be like woah. hello person i have never seen in my life before this very second right now. you should hurry along i don't want any civilians caught in the cross hairs when the police arrive. anyway random stranger i've never seen ever you should totally come by my hero agency and train in case you know. you get caught close to another villain attack

-guys got a heart proportional to the rest of him how could you not do anything for him he's sunshine personified. if he said jump you'd ask how high he's just got that affect

-he's probably the most chill pro hero aside from like. aizawa. you know how like the bigger the dog the more chill they get (usually). yeah same affect with him he minds his business stays in his lane does heroic deeds on the reg yk

- his favorite thing to do with you is spend time with you laying on top of him <33 he usually takes up all the space on wherever he's lying but no complaints can be heard when you get to cuddle on top of him all night

-end of day routine with taishiro would pretty much be him coming home from work, flopping on the couch, and dragging you to lay on top of him to doze until the food he ordered arrives (even if you wanted to there's no way you could cook for tai after work, you'd have a hard enough time cooking for Any pro hero let alone one who's quirk is dependent on food)

-your rough days usually entail you crawling inside his shirts to be closer to him (in my mind his clothes are probably usually baggy because they need to be able to withstand his full size and after a day at work he'd probably be at least somewhat smaller) and him allowing you to curl up on him like a cat (he probably also pets ur hair like a cat but we don't need to mention that), his rough days probably entail something like baking treats together!! he seems like the kind of guy who really really enjoys quality time with a s/o and combining that with food? his bad day melts away immediately

eraserhead/shouta:

-same shit different day yeah? he probably mostly has vigilante friends if we're honest (aside from hizashi and nemuri of course)

-is definitely used to dealing with vigilantes both a professional and unprofessional sense, nothing you can do will shock him, and you can always count on him to save your ass when things go south, it's like he has a second quirk with the way he's able to sense when you're either about to do something stupid or about to die. usually both.

-you guys patrol at night together, you both prefer working when you know the other is somewhere nearby in case things go south, and more often than not you take cases on together (although Technically it's just him on the paperwork)

-omg what if you guys meet because he saw you feeding a cat and snuck up on you only for you to. notice him? holy shit?? you could sense his presence?? he was flabbergasted. that like never fucking happens

-end of day routine is you bullying him into a shower with you and him making you wash his hair as payment. literally a fucking cat. we both know he wouldn't shower after patrol alone he'd just go to sleep.

-your rough days always end up with you in a caterpillar looking ass sleeping bag with shouta but you'd have it no other way. his rough days are full of cat cafes. they just relax him like nothing else

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f! reader

Description: While looking into a mysterious murder in Illinois, Sam, Dean, and Y/N come across Meg, an old 'friend' of Sam's, who may be far worse than they ever thought possible

Warnings: Cannon violence, the forensic details talked about—the blood splatter—should be some part accurate but i’m also not an expert so don’t take my word like it is—i’m just a nerd. Also!! no outfit for this one since there’s really none described and not one i’m really particularly picturing since this episode is very plot driven??

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra @fablesrose @ada--44 @bonkydarnes @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 , @seninjakitey @mystic-mara @mxltifxndom @stilesxreid @chaotic-luvrs @tiggytaylor @deanwasscaredbyacat

Word Count: 9,655

Shadow

(Master list, Prev Chapter, Next Chapter)

I pin my hair back as the Impala stops, claw clip holding back layers of hair in a half-up-half-down look. It was a last-ditch effort to make a dark blue jumpsuit look good, especially when it was a uniform jumpsuit.

I leave the car, closing the door behind me as Dean opens the trunk, pulling out a metal toolbox. It really completes the look. He closes the trunk and we move away from the car, crossing the street towards the victim's apartment. The three of us are matching in our getups, which lessens the embarrassment or awkwardness but doesn’t take away from the outfits themselves. “All right, this is the place,” Sam announces, stopping in front of the apartment building. “You know, I’ve gotta say Dad and I did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork,” Dean comments and I’m glad at least someone agrees this costume sucks. He smiles, continuing, “What was that play that you did?” he asks Sam, “What was it…Our Town. Yeah, you were good, it was cute.” I look between the boys, smiling as I hit Sam’s shoulder, “Shut up! You were in a play?!” He scuffs and rolls his eyes. Dean laughs as he answers for his brother, “Yeah he was.”

“How come no one told me?” I ask, I mean seriously this feels like something Dean would’ve spilled to me. Dean’s eyebrows furrow, “I didn’t tell you?”

“No!” I exclaim, “Do you have pictures?” His smile brightens, a mischievous glint in his green eyes, “‘Course I do.”

“Okay, well now you’re obligated to show me,” I point out, excited to see the no-doubt adorable photos. “Are you guys done or what?” Sam asks, arms crossed against his chest. I nod with a tight-lipped smile. “And if you wanna pull this off then we need the costumes,” he adds, logically.

“And while that is a great point, I have to agree with Dean on this one. These outfits are ugly,” I complain.

“That wasn’t really my point,” Dean interjects. I purse my lips, “Shh, it was close enough. And you can’t say this isn't a borderline janitor or plumber,” I motion my hand up and down at the jumpsuit for emphasis. The only difference was the brown leather belt at the waist, which really added nothing to the look—it barely even accentuated the waistline. “I’m just sayin’, these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?” Dean argues, getting back to his point.

“Whose?” Sam counters. Dean looks at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Ours. ‘You think credit card fraud is easy?”

“Thanks for lettin’ us look around,” Sam starts, letting the landlady lead us into the apartment. A weird feeling crawls down my spine, something heavy and undoubtedly coming from the apartment. “Well, the police said they were done with the place, so…..” she led us further into the living room. The white carpet is adorned with blood drops, some spots darker than others. “You guys said you were with the alarm company?” she asks.

“That’s right,” Dean clarifies.

“Well, no offense, but your alarm’s about as useful as boobs on a man,” she quipped, and I have to bite my bottom lip hard not to burst out in unprofessional laughter. “Well, that’s why we’re here. To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again,” Dean responds, somehow keeping it together.

“Now, ma’am, you found the body,” Sam asks, jumping right into it. “Yeah,” the lady responds, nodding. “Right after it happened?” he follows up.

“No. Few days later. Meredith’s work called—she hadn’t shown up. I knocked on the door. That’s when I noticed the smell.”

“Was there any sign of a break-in or forced entry?” I ask.

“No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it just to get in,” she answers.

“And the alarm was still on?” Dean asked, the scene coming together.

“Like I said, bang-up job your company’s doin’,” she remarks. It was no wonder the cops were stumped, those details practically suggest the killer walked through the walls. There was no other way to enter and leave without going through the front door or the untouched windows. “Mmhmm,” Dean hums, “You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of struggle?”

She shakes her head, “Everything was in perfect condition….except Meredith.”

“And what condition was Meredith in?” Sam asks carefully, moving away from the window he was standing in front of.

“Meredith was all over. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of a whack job. But I tell you, if I didn't know any better I’d have said a wild animal did it.”

“Ma’am, do you mind if we take some time? Give this place a once-over?” Sam asks, sharing a look with his brother.

“Oh, well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out.”

****

“So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment—no weapons, no prints, nothin’,” Dean acknowledges, opening his toolbox and pulling out his DIY EMF reader. “I’m tellin’ ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig,” Sam explains just as the EMF reader beeps frantically. A clear sign.

“I think I agree with you,” Dean mumbles.

I walk around the room studying the blood splatter on the wall. Whatever was here was certainly powerful, a strange feeling creeping over my shoulder. “So, you talked to the cops?” Sam asked from the other side of the room. “Uh, yeah,” Dean smirks, “I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky, officer of the law.”

I scuff, not surprised, “Yeah? Did you find anything useful out or just what she looked like naked?”

“Well, she’s a Sagittarius,” he starts, his voice dreamy like he was reliving it, “She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she’s got this little tattoo—“

“Dean!” Sam and I yell at the same time. God, he was ridiculous. “What?” he responds as if he did nothing wrong, “Yeah. Uh, nothin’ we don’t already know. Except for one thing they’re keepin’ out of the papers.”

“Hm?” Sam questions.

“Meredith’s heart was missing.”

Sam chokes on his breath, “Her heart?”

“You know that makes sense,” I start, “With the blood splatter that is.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asks. I walked over to the side table, a phone on it, “Well she was standing here, maybe listening to voicemails since no one has come forward to say they were on call with her when it happened, you would imagine they would hear a disturbance. Then the thing must have come from behind considering the slightly darker spray of blood there,” I point to the wall in front of me and what landed on the phone. “See it’s a projectile splatter —like a mist, somewhere between medium and high velocity. But there are no arterial spurts which would suggest it being quick and skilled, seemingly grabbing the right thing without hitting an artery.” I halt my explanation, “Are you guys following?”

“Yeah, we’re following, sweetheart,” Dean responds.

“Okay, good. So, came from behind, and was able to literally just bam, grabbing the heart and then pulling back out the same way. Which is the minimal blood behind her other than the pooling of blood when she went down. There’s hardly a blood trail or drops, nothing to suggest moving to other sides of the room after the kill. Well, except that…” I point to a blood pattern on the smooth white carpet nearby, “That’s not any blood splatter pattern, at least not a naturally occurring one. Those are methodical, otherwise it doesn’t make sense.”

The drops were in a weird shape or form, it would be hard to explain to anyone who wasn’t there.

Dean makes his way over, crouching before it. He studies it for a beat before saying, “See if you can find any masking tape around.” Sam immediately gets to it, checking the cabinets in the kitchen first. “So, what do you think did it to her?” Sam asks from the other room.

“I don’t know about this,” he gestures to the blood in front of him, “But, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack, maybe it was—werewolf?”

“Can’t be a werewolf, the lunar cycle doesn’t match up,” I respond. “Plus, if it was a creature, it would’ve left some kind of trace. It’s probably a spirit,” Sam adds, coming back into the room with a roll of black tape.

We stand aside as Dean connects the small pools of blood, a pattern evident to him. When he finishes and steps aside the tape reveals an almost ‘Z’ like shape with a horizontal oval in the center, cutting the letter off before it continues again. “Ever see that symbol before?” Sam asks. The symbol wasn’t exactly familiar in itself but close enough to another thing to make a small connection. “Never,” Dean answers.

“Me neither,” Sam agreed.

I rub my eyes, exhausted from summoning books all night. I know the symbol has something to do with summoning a specific being, whatever that being is I don’t know.

I sit across Sam in the noisy bar we just walked into, his Dad's journal in his hands. Dean said he was here somewhere. I move to rubbing my temples, a headache engraving itself. While teleporting objects is far easier than a person I was also getting my books from home—aka around 1,120 miles away. Maine to Chicago, trying to go through my family's old journals and spell books in the hope it had the symbol and an explanation somewhere. So far there was nothing.

The chair next to me scraps back, and someone takes a seat. I don’t have to lift my head from my hands to know who it is, the presence too familiar not to recognize. “I talked to the bartender,” Dean says.

“Did you get anything?” Sam asks, looking up from newspaper clippings he must have pulled out at some point, “Besides her number?”

“Dude. I’m professional. I’m offended that you would think that,” Dean defends with the utmost serious face. Sam and I both give him a knowing look, he would never pass up an opportunity like that. He breaks, a goofy smile on his lips as he pulls out a napkin from the inside of his jacket, holding it up, pen-marked digits written on it, “Alright, yeah,” he chuckles, looking at the napkin proudly. I roll my eyes, he really is ridiculous. And of course, I just had to be madly in love with a guy who’s interested in every other girl.

“You mind doin’ a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?” Sam lectures and it’s my turn to laugh. I hit his arm, “Oh man, he got you bad.”

Dean scuffs, “Look, there’s nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everyone said she was normal. She didn’t do or say anything weird before she died, so…what about that symbol, you find anything?”

“Nope, nothing. It wasn’t in Dad’s journal or any of the usual books,” Sam answers, putting down the newspaper clippings he’d been holding. “And there’s nothing, so far, in any spell books or journals,” I add as I pull out a brown strapped book from my bag, “If I have to read another book entirely in Latin I will commit violent atrocities.” I’d read at least ten journals in Latin back to back, it was rather nice to see the things my ancestors got into but after a while, it was very tiring.

“We just have to dig a little deeper, I guess,” Sam replied thoughtfully.

“Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?” Dean asks. His brother nods, “Right. Yeah,” he moves the newspaper clippings around until he finds the right one, “His name was, uh…his name was Ben Swardstrom.” He hands the clipping to Dean as he continues, “Last month he was found mutilated in his townhouse. Same deal, the door was locked, the alarm was on.”

“Is there any connection between the two of them?” Dean pushes, grazing over the newspaper. “Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker, and Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds.”

“So, to recap, the only successful intel we’ve scored so far is the bartender's phone number,” Dean smirks. I sigh, it sounds more disappointed and tired than anything, “Dude, really?”

“Oh, come on, it’s true,” he defends with a smirk. I scuff, a retort dying on my tongue as Sam stands suddenly, his eyes locked somewhere behind his brother. “Sam?” his brother asks as he begins to walk away. Like nosy teenagers, Dean and I turn in our seats.

Sam stops at a table, his back to us and blocking whomever he’s trying to talk to. He puts his hand on their shoulder. It’s apparent the two know each other, especially when their arms are wrapped around him in a hug. Bare arms wrap around him, hands too feminine to not belong to a woman. I throw Dean a questioning look, maybe it was a family friend? But he looks confused and even skeptical as he stands and walks over. I quickly gather my book, their Dad’s journal, and any of the other papers lying around and shove them in my bag before following after the older Winchester.

The girl was quite attractive, with short blonde hair and dark eyes. A pretty smile plastered on her face and a cute frilly lilac shirt. “Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what’s-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar,” she answers whatever question Sam had asked. “Who?” Sam asks, an equally big smile on his face. The girl brushes it off, “Oh, it doesn’t matter. Anyway, the whole scene got old, so I’m living here for a while.”

Suddenly, Dean clears his throat loudly, practically begging to be introduced into the conversation. I elbow him and ignore the look he gives me as I mouth ‘Let them speak.’ It was awkward enough just standing near them, off to the side as they caught up, and his attention-grabbing scheme wasn’t helping. He shakes his head at me, eyes wide and hands raised like he’s asking me why. I give him a pointed look, the reasoning should be obvious. “You’re from Chicago?” Sam asks.

“No, Massachusetts—Andover,” she clarifies. Her smile widens, “Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we’d run into each other?”

“Yeah, I know, I thought I’d never see you again,” Sam responded. “Well, I’m glad you were wrong,” she smiles. Dean clears his throat again, somehow louder, I shake my head with a sigh, he was not gonna give up. “Dude, cover your mouth,” the girl snaps and I have to stop my lips from curling into a smile. “Yeah, um, I’m sorry, Meg,” Sam starts, seemingly remembering to introduce the two creeps listening in on a conversation they should be allowed to be private, “This is my friend Y/N.”

I smile, extending a hand out of courtesy, “It’s nice to meet you, Meg.” Her hands are cold against mine, something like recognition passes in her eyes as she responds with the usual saying. Something deep inside my gut curls as I take her in, but I ignore it for now as we break from the shake. “And this is, uh…this is my brother, Dean.” This time her face lights up in surprise, eyes widening and brows shooting up, “This is Dean?” she asks. The man in question smiles with his usual charm. “Yeah,” Sam confirms.

“So, you’ve heard of me?” Dean asks, just a hint of pride on his tongue. Meg looks him up and down in one quick motion, her lips curling in disdain, “Oh, yeah. I’ve heard of you. Nice, the way you treat your brother like luggage.”

My lips part in shock, taken aback, I immediately look between both boys for their reaction. Sam’s eyes are wide, lips parted like she wasn’t supposed to say that, and Dean looks confused, eyebrows furrowed, “Sorry?” he asks.

“Why don’t you let him do what he wants to do?” she continues rapidly, “Stop dragging him over God’s green earth.”

“Meg, it’s all right,” Sam cuts in before more damage can be done. But the damage has already been done. Dean whistles lowly, “Okay, awkward. I’m gonna get a drink now,” he throws Sam a puzzled look before walking away. My eyes follow after him, the last minute felt like a whirlwind, before landing back on the couple in front of me. I eye Meg, what she did was so not cool on so many levels. “I…um,” I point towards the bar, after Dean, with a tightlipped smile, “I’m gonna…” I spin halfway on my heels, walking to the bar.

I take a seat next to Dean on one of the bar stools, a beer already clenched in his hand. The condensation drips down the brown bottle, dripping on the counter as he lifts the rim to his lips and takes a hefty sip. I want to say something–something comforting and helpful, but I know he won’t want to hear it. I could feel the frustration roll off of him in waves, but most importantly that hurt look in his green eyes. I lean into him until our upper arms touch for a moment before pulling away, a silent way of saying I was here with him if he wanted to talk about it or not. Either way, he isn't alone.

****

I push through the bar door before it can slam on me. Dean was walking quickly after his brother, his arm thrown out back at the building, “Who the hell was she?”

“I don’t really know,” Sam responds honestly, “I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don’t know, man, it’s weird.”

“And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin’ about me to some chick?” Dean argues.

“Look, I’m sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just listen—” Sam explains, his voice calm and steady, before getting cut off by his brother, “Well, is there any truth to what she’s saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?”

He stops his brother, “No, of course not. Now, would you listen?”

“What?” Dean gives in, the word harsh as it passes his lips. “I think there’s somethin’ strange going on here,” Sam explains as we stop in front of the Impala.

“Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn’t even that into me,” Dean scuffs. I sigh for the umpteenth time today, “Seriously? Dean? That’s what you got out of that whole interaction?”

“I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead,” Sam clarifies before his brother can respond with some other stupid comment. “Why do you say that?” Dean questions.

“I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don’t think that’s a little weird?” Sam points out. I nod, “No, yeah, that’s weird. I can't even imagine what the statistical percentage would be, 'cause that’s, like, really specific.”

“I don’t know, random coincidence. It happens,” Dean answers, shrugging. “That is some coincidence then,” I respond, not understanding how he couldn’t see or feel how weird it all is. “Sure, it happens, but not to us. Look,” Sam breathes, “I could be wrong, I’m just sayin’ that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Dean smirks, “Well, I bet you’d like to. I mean, maybe she’s not a suspect, maybe you’ve got a thing for her, huh?” Sam rolls his eyes and laughs, not exactly the most convincing response. “Maybe you’re thinkin’ a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?” Dean continued, pointing to his head with a grin.

“Ew, why’d you have to say it like that,” I complain. He opens his mouth to respond with something when Sam cuts in, “Both of you do me a favor. Check and see if there’s really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, see if you can dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith’s floor,” Sam orders, his expression going back to being serious. “What are you gonna do?” Dean asks

“I’m gonna watch Meg,” he responds. Dean laughs, “Yeah, you are.”

“That was a really weird way to put it,” I add. He sighs, annoyed, “You know what I meant, I just wanna see what’s what. Better safe than sorry.”

“All right, you little pervert,” Dean comments, and Sam looks to me for help. I shake my head, “That wasn’t any better.”

His shoulders drop, “Dude.”

Dean laughs, throwing an arm around my shoulder, “We’re goin’, we’re goin.’”

I sit across from Dean at the given table of their motel room, a leg beneath me. Sam’s laptop is opened up in front of him and I have a creepy old book. The pages are crisp and browned, the cover a deep red with animal skulls and sigils engraved into it. It’s not the first creepy old book I happen to own from being in the family and it certainly won’t be the last. Luckily, it was mostly for show, the symbols there to keep out those who aren’t blood related—-my extended family really knew how to be private. Yet, this book held the answers.

Dean’s phone rings, breaking the comfortable silence we had been sitting in for the last thirty or so minutes, maybe more. He flicks his phone open, pressing a few buttons before placing it in between us. “Let me guess. You’re lurkin’ outside that poor girl’s apartment, aren’t you?” Dean greets.

“No,” Sam responds. Dean and I share a pointed look, it wasn’t like that was exactly what he told us he was going to do. “Yes,” he clarifies. “You’ve got a funny way of showin’ your affection,” Dean jokes.

“Did you find anything on her or what?” Sam asks, going straight to business mode.

“Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook. I even pulled up her high school photo,” Dean informs, the confirmation hanging in the air for a moment before he continues, “Now, look, why don’t you go knock on her door, and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?”

“Maybe don’t knock on her door though ‘cause then she’s gonna ask how you knew she lived there,” I correct, “But you can text or call and ask!”

“That’s a good point, do that instead,” Dean adds.

“What about the symbol? Any luck?” Sam asks, ignoring our suggestions.

“Yeah, Y/N had luck with that one,” Dean starts, looking at me to continue. “Right, yes. Okay, so, it’s Zoroastrian, believed to be dated about two thousand years before Christ. The symbol we saw is a sigil for a Daeva,” I inform.

“What’s a Daeva?” Sam asks.

“They’re Zoroastrian demons, really mean, aggressive things. And if that’s not enough, Daeva translates to ‘demon of darkness,’” I explain.

“Kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls,” Dean adds.

“Eh,” I shake my head, “pit bulls are cute and really aren’t mean.”

“You think everything’s cute, and demonic pit bulls would be aggressive,” Dean counters with a pointed look. “Alright, fine that’s true, I guess they would be,” I give in, ignoring the first part of his comment. “Anyways,” Sam cuts in, “How’d you figure that out?”

“I went through more books,” I shrug, “And don’t worry I will not be committing violent atrocities because I have tea!” I hold up the to-go cup with a smile even though Sam can’t see. “Oh! wait, speaking of Latin,” I start, putting the cup down and going back to being serious, “Daevas have to be summoned, conjured. Someone’s controlling it and it isn’t an easy thing to do, you don’t exactly tame them. It’s more like temporarily guiding their wrath, the second you slip up or whatever they’ll kill you with no hesitation.”

“These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them,” Dean clarifies, “And, uh, the arms, and torsos.”

“So, what do they look like?” Sam asks.

“Um, according to my great, great, great, great I don’t know how many greats Aunt you can’t actually see them, only their shadow,” I inform, moving my leg from beneath me to sit properly. “Good for lurking, not so great for us,” I add.

“That’s great,” Sam sighs.

“We can figure it out here. Now, why don’t you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?” Dean responds, giving his brother an easy way out to have…fun.

“Bite me,” Sam retorts, and I can almost hear his bitchface.

“No, bite her. Don’t leave teeth marks, though—Sam? Are you—?” he picks up his phone, confused, before hanging up himself. I give him a look, “Dude.”

“What?”

“So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?” Dean responds after Sam spent a hot minute reviewing everything he witnessed. I take in the information, there was a lot of it. “Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing,” Sam adds, still standing like he has too much energy to do anything else.

“So, Sammy’s got a thing for the bad girl,” Dean laughs, taking the time to point that out rather than the problem at hand. Sam rolls his eyes, irritation written all over his face. “And what’s the deal with that bowl again?” Dean asks.

“He said she was using it to scry. Now anyone can learn to scry you don’t have to be a witch even if that's what it’s commonly associated with. And you can use just about anything, usually mirrors or crystals– just anything reflective,” I inform, “I haven’t heard of someone using blood before, well, not unless you count seers or high priests back in the Medieval and Renaissance period, but that was small amounts of blood on a mirror and you said it was a bowl, right?”

“Yeah, she was talking into it. She was communicating with someone,” he answers. I wet my lips, thinking over everything I know, things I had to teach myself from countless books and journals. “With who? With the Daeva?” Dean asks.

“No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who’s giving her orders. Someone who’s comin’ to that warehouse,” Sam answers.

“Scrying is usually used to locate someone or something–”

“Wait,” Sam cuts me off, “Why didn’t you try that with our Dad?”

“She did, it didn’t work,” Dean answers, sticking up for me. I nod, “It was the first thing I tried, your father didn’t—doesn’t want to be found. Although I know what he looks like it’s easier to use a personal item, which isn’t something available.”

“His journal,” Sam spits out, and for a moment I almost think he might be desperate to find his Dad. “It’s not that simple. It needs to be a personal item, not something that's been passed about. It’s been in your and Dean’s possession, it’s not personal even if it’s technically his journal,” I explain.

Dean moves back to the table we had been sitting at more than an hour ago, flipping through the files he had gotten. “And now back to the scrying,” I continue, “It’s mediums that do the summoning and communications with crystal balls because of the quartz acting as a divination tool. To use blood in a bowl?” I sigh, “I don’t know…It doesn’t really make sense unless she was using something else.”

“Holy crap,” Dean says suddenly. My eyes turn to him, Sam turning halfway around to view his brother, “What?” he asks.

“What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my,” he clears his throat, eyes turning to the floor as he says, “...friend, Amy, over at the police department.” I ignore the drop of my heart, it isn’t the time and it isn’t like this is the first time. “The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time.”

“What?” Sam asks again, moving over to look at the records. “The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn’t born here. Look where he was born,” Dean directs. Silence envelops the room for hardly half a beat before Sam reads aloud the information, “Lawrence, Kansas.”

“Mmhmm,” Dean hums, picking up the next file, “Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she’s from.” The atmosphere seems to change, something heavy settling over us, weighing on our shoulders. “Holy crap,” Sam breathes, settling in the seat across from his brother.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That’s where everything started,” Sam acknowledges, “So, you think Meg’s tied up with the demon?”

“I think it’s a definite possibility,” Dean responds. And there’s something about this moment that feels too final—a bad feeling. “But I don't understand. What’s the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daaeva things fit in?” Sam points out, and I feel sick for a reason I cannot explain. “Beats me,” Dean answers.

My hands brace the edge of the bed on either side of my legs, a heavy feeling in my gut, “You are,” I breathe. I feel their eyes on me but it’s like I can’t or shouldn’t lift my eyes from the bland carpet. “It’s like this entire thing was a long line of dominos and it’s hitting now…this,” I force my eyes up to look at them, “this isn’t good.”

“You gotta give us more than that, sweetheart,” Dean pushes, their faces somewhere between nervous and taken aback. But the worlds were hard to form, it made sense in my head and I could feel it, this sick horrible feeling, “It just feels too connected, everything. Why your Dad went AWOL, why you got Sam, and why he’s sticking around, the connection around Meg, Sam’s forming abilities…this just doesn’t feel good.”

“You think it’s a trap?” Sam asks. I shrug, I don’t know what I mean other than I just have a horrible feeling, “Maybe.”

“Unless you got a better idea I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation,” Dean suggests.

“No, we can’t. We shouldn’t tip her off. We’ve gotta stake out that warehouse. We’ve gotta see who, or what, is showin’ up to meet her,” Sam counters, “And it’ll give us the upper hand if it is a trap.”

Dean seems to null it over before nodding, “Trap or not, I’ll tell you one thing. I don’t think we should do this alone.”

****

Nerves course through my veins, the bad feeling still there, and no matter how much I tried to reassure myself, it wouldn’t go away. I try to make myself look busy by looking through my spell book, while Dean calls his Dad, “We think we’ve got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse— it’s 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can.” He hangs up, putting the phone in his pocket, and that twist of worry deep in his irises is enough to know he did not get an answer. The door opens slowly, a duffle bag leading the way in before Sam’s body follows in with more bags, “Voicemail?” he asks immediately. I put my book back in my bag, getting up to take one of the bags from Sam and carrying it over to one of the beds. “Yeah,” Dean answers before gesturing to the bags, “Jesus, what’d you get?”

Sam chuckles, “I ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I’m not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything.”

“Well, you certainly are prepared,” I remark. All of us falling into the silence of getting ready for a hunt, preparing the guns–loading each one carefully. “Big night,” Dean says, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. ‘You nervous?” Sam asks.

“No. Why, are you?” Dean throws back.

“No. No way,” Sam answers. I look up from the weapon in my hand and eye the two of them, “In the hypothetical situation in which you were nervous, it would be okay to be, natural even.” I’m careful with how to frame the words, any other way and they would insist they weren’t, even if it was clear with how the stiff air moves around us. They don’t say anything further, letting silence envelop us once more for a beat before Sam breaks it this time, “God, could you imagine we actually found that damn thing? That demon?” The palpable hope in his voice makes my heart twist, it didn’t feel like this would be the end even if that would be the more convenient solution. But I don’t want to be the one to break his hope with being realistic. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, all right?” Dean replies.

“I know. I’m just sayin’, what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I’d sleep for a month,” he entertains the idea, “‘Go back to school—be a person again.”

“You wanna go back to school?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, once we’re done huntin’ the thing,” he answers. I admire his want for normalcy, the push for it. I wish it was that easy, though for him I suppose it is. “Huh,” Dean hums and his distaste for that answer is beyond clear. It was the making of a continued argument. “Why, is there somethin’ wrong with that?” Sam retorts.

“No. No, it’s, uh, great. Good for you,” Dean answers, not doing a great job of being convincing.

“I mean, what are you gonna do when it’s all over?” Sam asks, and I despise myself for not having an answer. “It’s never gonna be over. There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be somethin’ to hunt,” Dean argues.

“But there’s got to be somethin’! Come on, Y/N, I know you have dreams,” Sam reasons, roping me into a conversation that requires a lot more self-reflection than I want to deal with at the moment. I shrug with one shoulder, but my heart beats in that slow painful way when you know what you want but can’t get, when you yearn more than you are allowed to, “Normalcy isn’t really in my books….it’s not in my blood.” I bite on my bottom lip, containing feelings that could be opened for another night. “But you have them, don’t you?” Sam pushes. I peer up from the weapon in my hands, it feels heavier all of a sudden, “Um…yeah, I do have dreams…we all do,” my eyes flicker to Dean then down at loading the gun in my hands. There was a handful of things I wanted but wants often stay as what they are….wants. “Dean, there’s got to be somethin’ that you want for yourself—”

“Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam,” he stressed, moving to a dresser that’s across the room. “Dude, what’s your problem?” Sam pushes. But Dean’s silent and I can only imagine what’s going through his mind. He turns back, “Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?”

This is the kind of argument I shouldn’t be in the room for, something that should be private but breaks out anyway. “‘Cause Dad was in trouble. ‘Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom,” he answers like it's obvious.

“Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man,” Dean presses, turning back to the dresser and then once more towards his brother, “You and me and Dad—I mean, I want us…I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again.” Anguish was clear in his green eyes, his voice dripping with vulnerability, it wouldn’t be much longer till he was claming up again, putting on his hard man persona. I wish he would realize that while they were a family it wasn’t a good dynamic. Sam had every reason to want out, it was just Dean who was stuck in the construct his father had built. But that’s a difficult realization, it doesn’t matter how much others point out, though maybe I shouldn’t be talking. “Dean, we are a family. I’d do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before.”

Dean looks like his heart was ripped from his chest, though that would hurt less, “Could be,” he says sadly, a last-ditch effort at reasoning. “I don’t want them to be. I’m not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.”

Hands gripping cold metal. Up, up, up. I never thought I’d climb up an elevator shaft, but there are firsts for everything. Finally, my feet hit the landing and I silently squeeze through the space of the elevator gate following right behind Dean. Meg’s voice seemed to echo in the silent dark, her tongue twisting with the ancient language. It sounded like something close to Latin, but not quite.

We moved crouched down, strategic steps taken to make as little noise as possible, our guns drawn and aimed at her back. Creeping in the dark. We hide behind some crates, convenient. The sound of her voice stops, the candlelight from her altar dancing against the walls. “Guys,” she says suddenly. She knows we’re here. I feel the boys tense on either side of me, they shouldn’t be so surprised. Being right all the time is a curse at this point. “Hiding’s a little bit childish, don’t you think?” she drawls.

“Well, that didn’t work out like I planned,” Dean announces. Her feet shuffle, the room so quiet you can hear the very small miscellaneous gravel crunching with her turn. She must be staring at us, the crates might as well have not been there with the way I can feel her intense gaze through the wood. “Why don’t you come out?” she asks, her voice so smooth and so teasing. We give each other a look, a shared understanding before reluctantly coming out from behind the crates, guns still trained on her. “Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship,” she purrs. Her yellow leather jacket standing out in the dark. Why’d she have to pull it off so well? “Yeah, tell me about it,” he retorts.

“So, where’s your little Daeva friend?” Dean asks, motioning with a nod of his chin.

“Around,” she muses, “You know, that shotgun’s not gonna do much good.”

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, the shotgun’s not for the demon,” Dean smirks, and there has to be something wrong with me to think that was hot in a situation like this. “So, who is it, Meg? Who’s coming? Who are you waiting for?” Sam spits, question after question firing quickly.

“You,” she smirks, eyes feigning innocence. Something creeps in the shadows, my gun is launched from my hands. The sound of skin breaking echoes in the room, my skin burns. I land on my back hard, the cold concrete floor ricocheting in my spine, blood drips down my abdomen in the shape of a claw mark.

****

My eyes flicker open, something tight around me. “Well, look who’s up early,” Meg teases, leaning against the altar’s table, looking at her nails bored. I move my eyes across the room, Sam and Dean tied up on separate polls close to each other. A claw-like scratch mark ran across Sam’s cheek and another on the side of his neck. Dean’s temple bleeds, blood dripping down the side of his face, another on his shoulder. Both of them knocked out.

I was placed towards the middle of the room, closer to the altar than them, a stupid decision. Rough ropes bind me, just like them, another stupid decision. A decision that makes it clear she doesn’t know what I am. I peer down at my abdomen, my shirt ripped with a claw mark, my skin already pinching itself back together. “Early bird gets the worm,” I joke. She walks slowly over to me, eyes trained down to meet mine. It’d be so easy to get out of the ropes and have my hands on her, just hardly half a second. Was it worth it to wait? Would she spill her grand plan? They always do. “Do you always keep your guests tied up?” I ask, wanting to get her talking. She stops by my feet, and slowly, ever so slowly begins to kneel, my eyes following her movement down. “Only the ones that trespass,” she breathes, her eyes gleaming with something dangerously playful.

“You know, I have to say your whole plan was quite genius,” I start, leading her into confession, “Even the victims being from Lawrence, ‘nice touch, good way to draw us in.”

She smirks, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Hey, Sam? Don’t take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend…” Dean’s voice breaks through the room, “is a bitch.”

“You killed those two people for nothin’” Sam spits, ignoring his brother's comment. Her head lolls towards his voice, the smirk on her lips deepening. She turns her full attention to him, both boys now awake. She twists her body towards them, her hands now on the ground, on all fours she slowly crawls towards them, her back perfectly arched, “Baby, I’ve killed a lot more for a lot less,” she drawls.

“You trapped us. Good for you. It’s Miller time,” Dean smiles, “But why don’t you kill us already?”

“Not very quick on the uptake, are we?” she draws closer to him, leaning in, “This trap isn’t for you.”

“Dad,” Sam murmured, the piece falling into place, “It’s a trap for Dad.”

“Can we start listening to anything I say?!” I exclaim.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re dumber than you look. ‘Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn’t walk into something like this. He’s too good,” Dean points out, ignoring my wonderful point.

“He is pretty good. I’ll give you that,” she moves over him, straddling his legs and sitting right in his lap, “But you see, he has one weakness.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“You,” she breathes, “He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he’ll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody…nice and slow and messy.”

“Why you doin’ this, Meg?” Sam cuts in, “What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?”

“I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do…loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess.”

“Go to hell,” Sam spits.

“Baby, I’m already there,” she smiles, voice like velvet. She slides over to him, “Come on, Sam. There’s no need to be nasty,” she leans closer, her voice dropping, “I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn’t it?” She seizes something in her hand that I cannot see from here until it’s sliding across the floor. His pocket knife. But this doesn’t seem to interrupt her, like she expected it.

“Get a room, you two,” Dean groans.

“I didn’t mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun,” wet noises fill the room as she places kiss after kiss on his neck. “You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I’m a little tied up right now,” he remarks. She continues to kiss down his neck until the sound of metal against metal breaks through the noise of her kissing. She gets up and walks behind Dean’s post, taking his pocket knife and throwing it into the corner somewhere. She rounds the post once more, standing as she looks down at them, “You two never know when to give up, do you?” She spins towards me, “Wanna give up yours now?”

I smirk, slipping from the ropes easily, “Oh baby, I don’t need a knife.” I get up, the shadows rushing forward, I hold up a fist, halting their movements, like rabid dogs on a tight leash. Her face contorts in confusion, eyes widening, “Now you and I can have fun,” I tease, “Unless, of course, you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

“Trust me, I have no problem getting dirty,” she answers, eyes moving slowly down my frame. The real trouble is deciding how to handle her, there is so much I could do without breaking a sweat, or I can stick to basic fighting—keep it fair. She rolls her shoulders back, raising her fists in a basic fighting stance. But, maybe it’d be good to send a message. Maybe it would be fine to play dirty just this once……

A purple-tinted fog seeps into the room, tendrils curling along the floor like ghostly fingers. A quiet breeze snakes through the room, an eerie whisper being carried with it. It shoots through the room, darkening, shadows stretching and deepening, the candles extinguishing with a soft hush. The confines of the room dissolve, leaving only the two of us in a void of darkness, smoke swirling around our ankles like serpents. Her hands drop to her side, eyes darting around the room, “What is this?” she snaps. Hushed whispers fill the air, a cacophony of chanting, the words overlapping and blending into a horrific murmur. I appear behind her, my hands gliding over her eyes like curtains blocking out the dim light, “Open your eyes,” I whisper. The fog thickens, rising like a living entity, coiling around us, higher and higher, until I too am swallowed by its depths and fall away.

Suddenly, the room flickers with a harsh, red light, pulsating in erratic bursts, casting shadows that dance wildly. She covers her head with her hands, folding into herself as she stumbles forward, trying to escape the terror. In the brief flashes of red, she catches glimpses of the Daevas— for her eyes to see only. Her scream pierces the air, raw and primal, as the true sight of the Daevas sear into her mind.

The smoke and visions vanish as a sharp crash reverberates through the room, the altar table crashing to the ground as she falls into it. Freed from their binds, the Daevas surge forward, dark forms slipping through the shadows. Scratch after scratch appears on her skin, the unseen monsters marking her flesh. She screams again, a desperate, guttural sound, as she is dragged by her ankles, her nails clawing futilely at the ground. With a final, terrifying force, she is hurled through the window, the glass exploding outward, shards glittering like deadly stars as she falls to her demise with a sickening thud. “Fuck!” I curse, running to the broken window, her body sprawled on the concrete, blood-forming beneath her. Oh god. With a distracted flick of my wrist, the ropes that held the boys come undone– the only tangible, helpful thing I could do. I messed up. I messed up. “I didn’t mean to,” I mumble, stepping away from the window, “I was just trying to show h–I didn’t me–”

“What did you show her?” Sam asks, moving past me to peer out the window. I tried to find an ounce of an accusatory tone, but there was nothing to find. “The Daevas, I wanted her to be as scared as those two people were when they died…But! I didn’t mean to kill her, I didn’t mean to, I swear.” A familiar hand touches my shoulder, but I move from his hold, I shouldn’t be touched. “It’s okay, sweetheart, we know you wouldn’t have done it on purpose,” he tries to comfort but I am not worthy of it. I want to tell him he’s wrong. I can do something like that. I just did it now, she’s dead and it’s my fault. I did too much. I shouldn’t have scared her like that, it was cruel and unnecessary and she might still be alive if I didn’t. He’s wrong. Dean’s wrong and Sam should accuse me, and they should be scared. I’m not who they think I am.

“So, I guess the Daevas didn’t like being bossed around,” Sam acknowledges as if nothing had happened, as if I didn’t just kill her. “Yeah, I guess not,” Dean agrees, moving over to stand by his brother at the window, viewing my crime, “Hey, Sam?”

“Hm?” he hums in response.

“Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that’s not so buckets-o’-crazy, huh?” Dean smiles, walking away. I hear him picking up their discarded items, the guns, the duffle, Sam joining him. I hear the click of the heavy metal door, we could use the emergency stairs, no need to be sneaking around, “You coming?” Dean asks. I run my hands down my face, glad my back is to him, I won’t be able to repent for this sin. Dad would know how I could repent, or, at least make sense of it. “Uh, yeah, yeah,” I nod.

“Why didn’t you just leave that stuff in the car?” Dean asks as we move down the hall, forced to help carry heavy bags of weapons and other stuff. “I said it before, and I’ll say it again—better safe than sorry,” Sam explains. Dean leaves it at that as he unlocks the door, pushing it open for us. It felt wrong to talk so casually after the death of someone else, someone I killed. It didn’t matter whether I meant to or not because either way she was dead and it was all my fault. I didn’t deserve casual talk. I know things happen on hunts, you see a lot of things and do a lot of things and I've had my fair share of both, and I know you have to move on—holding on is what gets you killed. But it’s easier said than done, I can’t just forget I killed someone. My thoughts halt as do our steps at the sight of a man standing by the window, the dark cloaking him.

“Hey!” Dean shouts, his brother flicking on the lights quickly. The man turns, the new light illuminating his familiar features. “Dad?” Dean breathes the question, shock evident in the way the exhale passes his lips. Meg was right, he was in town. “Hey, boys,” he greets and like the spell of shock broke Dean and him walk towards each other. Their arms wrap around each other in a big bear hug. I may not like John Winchester, not one bit, but I’m glad he can have this moment with his Dad, where for just a moment everything’s alright.

They pull away from each other and his eyes finally land on his youngest son, “Hi, Sam.” They do not move to hug, not even a muscle, “Hey, Dad,” he answers softly. There’s an understanding that seems to pass through them with just that gaze, maybe they didn’t need to hug or maybe it was because John just wouldn’t. His eyes move to me next and he gives me a quick nod, an acknowledgement of my existence and I give one right back. “Dad, it was a trap. I didn’t know, I’m sorry,” Dean rushes to say.

“It’s all right. I thought it might’ve been,” he answers, a man who was always two steps ahead and then some. “Were you there?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive,” the memory of the glass shattering and her screams getting further away flashes in my mind, “She was the bad guy, right?”

“Yes, sir,” both boys answer at the same time, their tones the same- just like they were taught. “Good. Well, it doesn’t surprise me. It’s tried to stop me before,” he informs.

“The demon has?” Sam asks.

“It knows I’m close. It knows I’m gonna kill it. Not just excoriate it or send it back to hell—actually kill it,” he explains, words sharp on his tongue. “How?” Dean pushes.

John smiles, “I’m workin’ on that.”

“Let us come with you. We’ll help,” Sam insists, and I don’t miss the warning glare his brother throws him. “No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don’t want you caught in a crossfire. I don’t want you hurt,” John reasons.

“Dad, you don’t have to worry about us,” he counters.

“Of course I do. I’m your father,” John pauses, and if I were a bolder person I’d list all the times just in the last couple of months where he clearly hadn’t been worried enough to show up when his own sons were calling for help— when one of his sons was on his deathbed, “Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam replies.

“It’s good to see you again. It’s been a long time,” he said warmly.

“Too long,” Sam answers, and finally they embrace, arms tight around each other. When they pull away the family shares a teary eyed look, a relief to be back together.

Suddenly, John is thrown sideways, crashing into a set of cabinets as Sam is thrown back against the door. “Frick!” I curse, one hand in a fist as I hold them back once more, this time they fight harder against my hold, tugging at it. “Dean! Get them out of here,” I order. He rushes to his Dad, throwing his arm around his shoulder as Sam shuffles his way up the wall to hold himself. The Daevas tug on my hold again, like rabid dogs pulling on their leash with bared teeth. “What about you?!” Dean asks from somewhere behind me.

“I’ll be right behind you,” I answer. This seems to satisfy him enough for him to continue to leave, it’s only when I’m sure they’re gone that I light up the room with a blinding bright light. Pure light beams from my free hand, growing until it reaches every inch of the room, like the sun rising on a meadow. I squint my eyes against the bright light, not wanting to risk closing them despite the pain of the light. Their tugs immediately stop, some feeling like they were trying to pull away. I keep it up for a count of 10, there isn’t a science to this other then shadows can’t exist without darkness. I don’t know if there is a ‘right amount of time.’ But, with the light so blinding and the tugging completely gone I decide they must be gone for good.

I shut it all down, no more emitting light and no hold, before rushing out the door and down the nearest stairs. My shoes hit the asphalt hard as I head to the Impala, hidden in an alley behind the motel. Immediately I see the group of boys and hurry my steps. “They’re gone,” I inform, my chest rising and falling quickly, “They shouldn’t be coming back, that should be it.”

“All right, come on. In case it isn’t over, we should go,” Sam urges, throwing the duffle into the backseat.

“Wait, wait, wait! Sam, wait,” Dean insisted, “Dad, you can’t come with us.”

“What? What are you talkin’ about?” Sam exclaims.

“You boys…you’re beat to hell,” John points out, eyes taking in each visible wound.

“We’ll be all right,” Dean convinces.

“I’ll take care of them,” I add, it wouldn’t be the first time I healed them and it would never be the last. “You shouldn’t even be here,” John bites. I give a tight lipped smile, the best I can do to not go completely off, “Yeah, well look who saved your life.” He opens his mouth to say some other harsh thing when Sam cuts in, arguing with his brother, “Dean, we should stick together. We’ll go after those demons—“

“Sam! Listen to me!” Dean yells, “We almost got Dad killed in there. Don’t you understand? They’re not gonna stop. They’re gonna try again. They’re gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad’s vulnerable when he’s with us. He—he’s stronger without us around.”

Sam shakes his head, not accepting this reality, “Dad, no” he puts a hand on his father shoulder as if willing him to say Dean was wrong, “After everything—-after all the time we spent lookin’ for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight.”

“Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you’ve got to trust me, son.” But Sam shakes his head. “Okay, you’ve gotta let me go,” John continues. The alleyway falls silent, the air thick with emotion that would not spill. Finally, Sam pats his fathers shoulder once, then let’s go. John and Dean share a look, then he walks to his truck, parked on the street just outside the alley. “Be careful, boys,” he says before getting into the old truck and driving away. Who knows when we’ll see John Winchester next.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Ok ok ok ok, the post about Steve drawing a portrait of his own dick for Bucky’s wallet, and all your posts about Steve’s exhibitionist streak -

My uncle is a photographer and at their old house he had a picture up in the spare bedroom, of my aunt from their honeymoon where she’s naked on a beach. It’s artfully shadowed and you’d have to stare at it for a while to understand what you’re looking at (or at least I did when I was 9), but I distinctly remember him taking it down once before a dinner party, winking at me, and saying something like, “this doesn’t stay up for company.”

Steve drawing intimate portraits of himself for Bucky. Bucky starts just the way you wrote, as a silly little ask to keep in his wallet and make Steve blush, but also because Steve never had self confidence in himself as an artist and is resisting getting back into it even as a hobby, and Bucky figures that anything that will get Steve drawing again is a good thing, especially if he can rib him for it. But that doesn’t prepare Bucky for the look on Steve’s face the first time Bucky pulls out his wallet when Steve KNOWS the photo is in there.

They’re at a neighborhood coffee shop. The shop is busy, people passing by everywhere. After learning about credit card fees both he and Steve try to pay with cash whenever they can, so Bucky is chatting with the barista as he digs through his wallet for exact change. He turns to Steve to ask if he has 26 cents and-

Bucky scoffs whenever people say that honesty is one of Steve’s positive attributes, cause yeah, the guy’s honest, but with a poker face as shitty as his, he doesn’t really have a choice.

Bucky sees it all on his face. Beet red from his hairline to where his collarbones peek out from his shirt, mouth gulping in shallow breaths, eyes wide and terrified and so dark he looks high, bouncing between the wallet in Bucky’s hand and the people getting creamer behind him. He’s so overwhelmed that he hasn’t even thought to cover himself, and his dick (flaccid in the portrait; should Bucky have questioned that choice? Did Steve draw what he saw? Or did he get hard and feel ashamed of it?) is hard under his jeans, begging for Bucky to reach out and grab. Steve’s eyes flicker up to Bucky’s, and a slow, evil smirk slides across Bucky’s lips.

“C’mon Stevie, help me out. You don’t want me to drop anything on the floor, do you?”

Something in Steve’s head clicks and he jerks back to life, digging out his own wallet and handing over the change, eyes on his shoes. Instead of waiting at the counter, Bucky drags Steve to a spot on the back wall and, casual as can be, moves his body between Steve’s and the cafe and cups a large hand between Steve’s legs.

“Bucky, what-“

“That’s why you said yes, isn’t it?” Bucky murmurs, dragging his hand up and down like a slow handjob. Steve chokes on his own saliva, eyes glued to Bucky’s. “You weren’t just indulging me, you LIKE it. You like thinking that any stranger coming up behind me could see me handling your dick like money. I don’t have to put your ass on the corner, you printed your own cock-sucker cash just for me.”

Steve whimpers, fine trembles running through his limbs. He knows his safe word. He doesn’t use it.

“What would Maggie think if I handed her your cock to pay for my latte? She’d want more next time, wouldn’t she? A pretty cock like that, you can’t get just once, huh?”

They get out of the cafe without being charged with indecent exposure, and the moment they get home Bucky muscles Steve to the bed and fucks him until he’s wailing.

After, they get up. Reheat their lukewarm coffee. Watch rugby on TV while Bucky absentmindedly rubs Steve’s feet, until it’s time for Steve to leave for a jog with Nat.

Just as Steve is about to head out the door, Bucky calls, “Hey Steve? When you get home, I want you to draw yourself hard. Use that nice paper I got you for Christmas. About time we put up some more art around here, huh?”

Over the next few months Steve draws dozens of sketches of himself, and one by one they go up on the walls of their apartment. Mostly in private areas like their bedroom or the en-suite, but every so often they’ll have Sam or Nat over and Steve will glance up in the middle of a sentence and feel his throat fill with fire because Bucky’s snuck one of them up. It’s half hidden behind the curtains but Steve sees it every time the breeze blows through the open window; that’s the one he drew on the floor, on his hands and knees, a system of mirrors rigged between his legs so he could sketch himself as Bucky rocked into him. He drew everything, from the precum drooling from under his foreskin to his dangling balls to Bucky’s shaft gleaming with lube and stretching him open.

He doesn’t let himself look at it for the rest of the night. He doesn’t know if Sam or Nat see it. But when they say their goodbyes and Bucky closes the door behind them, Bucky turns to Steve already on the floor on his knees, on his chest, whining in helplessness as he struggles to pull his clothing off without changing position.

Bucky doesn’t help him. Leans against the door and plays with his own cock as Steve finally gets his jeans and underwear down, contorts his arm so he can pull back a cheek, whimpers for it.

Bucky goes to him. But not before grabbing Steve’s sketchbook.

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I 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 love 👏🏻 this 👏🏻

Like, oh my fucking GOD, this is so good. This is such a good fucking concept and then the way you wrote on top of that--the dirty talk especially, christ--makes it irresistible. Fuck.

This is fantastic. Thank you so, so much for this. This is going to and already does live rent-free in my head 😮‍💨😮‍💨 I can see every part of this ask, and it's filthy and beautiful

[miabebe]

I Am What I Am (VII)

A man of the shadows and a woman who belonged in the skies - fate could not have brought two more different people together. But was this fate or was this a choice?

Pairing - Im Changkyun x OC, Kim Mingyu x OC

Word Count - 7.2K

Warnings - Mentions of death, murder, mafia, guns, bullets, violence

Chapter summary - Telling the truth is easy for more reasons than one - there's no need to fear keeping up with a facade, there's no need to carry a weight in your heart. But Na bi also learns, that without the burden of it, there's now room to feel a lot more.

| Previous Chapter | Masterlist |

Na bi looked around the room as the evening sun poured in.

Something about this space had always felt a little off to her, like it was strangely antiquated but now that she knew it belonged to Changkyun’s mother, she finally saw sense. It didn’t seem uninhabited though – all her things were arranged and laid out as though she never left, as though they were waiting for her to come back. Seeing the way he seemed to hang on to every small thing that belonged to her, Na bi realised how hard it must’ve been for Changkyun to part from her, from someone he loved so much. Na bi knew how that felt…..

She stared at the picture frame on the dressing table - A father, a mother, two girls who looked like they were the older ones, and a small boy with a shy grin, hiding in the protective arms of the whole family. They smiled so beautifully, so happily; Na bi felt jealousy rear its ugly head in her heart. Tearing her eyes away from it, she ran her hand along all the dresses that were hanging in the closet, feeling the soft material under her fingertips. As her eyes searched for the one she found herself in the day she came here, the door creaked.

Holding her breath, she leaned back to see Changkyun walking in, luckily not noticing her presence - he simply kicked off his shoes, unbuttoned his jacket, walked straight up to the bed and fell into it, melting into the softness of the duvets. Considering she had been acting a bit cold towards him and was also trespassing a personal space, Na bi tried her best to seem invisible, staying hidden from sight by the wardrobe, determined to leave only after he did. But when minutes passed and he didn’t move, she crept out of her hiding place and walked over to him.

His eyes were shut, lips slightly parted, already dragged into a deep slumber, as he held on to a faded blue pillow tightly in his arms, like he was afraid it would run away. Na bi’s eyes skirted over his features as she pushed back the strand of hair falling into his face, eliciting a groan in his sleep, making him turn to his side, curling up like a child against his mother. Sighing, she quietly pulled the curtains shut, and slowly stepped out of the door, stopping by to take one last look at him, Mrs. Lee’s words echoing in her ears – The only woman Changkyun ever loved was his mother. Her name was Na bi too. 

“What do you tell him to let you come to the hospital so often?” Seokmin munched on a packet of nuts as Na bi settled into the couch across him. “Is it not strange to him that you keep coming here despite being suspended?”

“I don’t know, he doesn’t really ask.” Na bi confessed, lost in thought. “I did keep a bunch of believable excuses ready just in case he did say something but he never does? Besides..... we’re not on talking terms anyways.”

“Because he said you’re not friends?” Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “You’re being a child.”

“Because I don’t know what’s left to say to him anymore.” She muttered. “Admittedly I was being petty in the beginning but now, I don’t know. It felt a lot easier when I wasn’t sure what exactly was going on between us but now that I have the clarity that there is nothing, it just feels weird to be around him, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“And I don’t understand it.” Seokmin’s shoulders slumped. “And I also don’t know how to help.”

“You don’t need to, Min-ah." She leaned back into the couch. "I just need to figure out how to break the ice again, slip in that truth serum and get whatever information I need out of him.”

Seokmin nodded, grabbing another bag of snacks. “When you say information, are you talking about Ana or about what Mingyu wants you to find?”

“Both.” Na bi sighed. “I need to know what exactly happened with Ana. If he had no hand in her death-”

“-which you believe-”

“-then I will have to find some other crime or some other proof or some other way Mingyu can get to him.” Na bi ignored Seokmin’s interjection. “To be honest, I think I've cracked most of it, I just need to fill the gaps.” 

“You have?” Seokmin sat up, curiosity piqued.

“I tried to put myself in his shoes and wondered what I would do.” Na bi got up and paced around the room. “His identity is already a mystery, no one can find him anyways. In the off chance that someone does discover who he is or what he looks like, he's not easy to catch because he does not come out in the open. On the rare occasions that he does, I'm not sure how he manages to skirt about the city undetected but then again, considering he was attacked the last time he was out and about, maybe that's his weak point."

Seokmin hummed in agreement.

"But if he's not in the city, he's on his island, cut off from the world, making him hidden and unreachable."

“And do you think his headquarters are somewhere there too?” 

Na bi shook her head. “If he truly is smart, he wouldn’t keep everything in one place. I think…. I think there’s a neighboring island, one not too far away from where he stays…..” Na bi bit her lip thinking harder about all she had pieced together. “As far as where both these islands are is concerned, I haven’t figured out yet but once I do, if he wishes, Mingyu can even go there and get what he wants.”

“But you’re sure they’re islands?” Seokmin raised an eyebrow. “It’s just, you seem to travel by road every day, surely you would have noticed if you just looked out….”

“I never get to see anything outside; the glass is tinted and….” She trailed off lost in thought. How indeed did Wonho cross the sea in a car? Na bi didn’t remember seeing a bridge of any sort during her explorations? Then again she hadn’t scoured the full island yet. 

“Maybe because it’s not an island.”

Na bi turned at Mingyu’s voice, finding him leaning against the doorframe of Seokmin’s office.

“You think I’m wrong?” Na bi crossed her arms as Mingyu walked in.

“No.” He sighed, putting his hands on her shoulders softly. “I don't think you can be wrong but what I think doesn't matter. I’m not the one who you need to convince.” 

“If it’s Jihoon then I know he has a thick head but I can get through to him if he listens-”

“This isn’t just about Jihoon.” Mingyu spoke from between his teeth. “Na bi, if I.M really is on an island, the only way to find him is to launch a search operation in international waters. Do you have any idea how many protocols and government approvals that requires? We'll probably even need the navy to get involved-” 

“You don’t need to go so far.” Na bi muttered. “I can figure out the location on my own.”

“Really?” Mingyu’s voice was not as soft anymore. “It’s been 3 weeks and you’ve not managed much.”

Na bi’s lips set into a hard line. Before she could say anything, Mingyu’s hands ran down her arms, rubbing them gently.

“I’m not saying you’re not capable. I’m saying it’s perhaps beyond your hands now, considering he doesn’t seem to be communicating with you in the way we hoped.” He looked at her keenly. “Did the truth serum also not help?”

“I didn’t get a chance to use it yet.” Na bi looked up at him. “Let me give it a shot, I just need some time-“

“Time is what I don’t have Na bi.” Mingyu ran his hands through his hair frustrated. “I gave my assurance at the NIS that by the time your suspension is over, we’d have made a breakthrough in I.M’s case.”

“Well my suspension is not over, there’s still-” 

“Seven days.” Mingyu glanced at his phone as it chimed in his hand, frowning at it before he looked up at her. “Fuck I need to go but Na bi, seven days…. that’s all you have.”

Na bi watched wordlessly as he planted a quick goodbye kiss on her forehead and rushed off to whatever urgency he had to cater, busy mumbling at his phone. 

“Seven days.” Seokmin walked up to her, still munching on his snacks. “How are you gonna do it if you won’t even talk to him?” 

“I will.” Na bi took a deep breath determined. It wasn’t just for Ana or Mingyu that she needed answers. 

The only woman Changkyun ever loved was his mother. Her name was Na bi too.  

“There’s a lot of things I need answers for.” 

It was the sound of rustling papers that woke Na bi up.

Eyes fluttering open she raised her head, frowning at the newfound weight of a quilt on her. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, they fell on the man sitting at the table beside her, his focus intent on the papers scattered all over the surface. He squinted at them in the subtle light of the candle beside him, and the occasional bursts of luminescence from his trademark lighter. As she sat up, he turned, face instantly softening at the sight of her. 

“Sorry, was I being too loud? I was trying not to…”

“No, that’s fine, it is your room….” Na bi swung her legs off the daybed, slightly confused as to how she ended up here. Last she knew, she was sitting on the chair waiting for him to come back. “I’m sorry, it was warm, I think I just dozed off?” 

Changkyun gave her a short nod, turning his attention back to his sheets as Na bi walked up to him, grabbing one of his strewn pencils to do her hair up in a bun, not noticing the way the edges of his lips curled into a smile at an old memory. As she peered over his shoulder mirroring his squint, her stomach let out a terribly timed, ungodly sound of hunger and before she could cover it up, Changkyun pushed the glass of orange juice on his table towards her, eyes still focused on his work. 

Na bi panicked knowing exactly what was in that glass and why she brought it here. 

“Oh no that’s ok, I brought that for you.” She fumbled, speaking fast. “I realized I was being rude yesterday, I brought it as a, sort of peace offering.” 

“Then you should have perhaps brought me my favorite, not yours.” 

Mentally slapping herself Na bi let out an unconvincing chuckle. “Perhaps I should have but that was the only drink available….” 

“Have it.” He pushed it further towards her. “You slept through dinner.” 

“It’s ok.” Na bi insisted, her muddled brain unable to think of a quick escape. “I’m not really that hungry.”

“You forget your stomach has spoken for you Ms.Baek.” Changkyun finally tore his eyes away from his work. “It's not much of a peace offering if you reject me twice for the same thing.” 

Gulping under his intense gaze, Na bi forced a smile and a soft thank you as she reached for the glass, trying not to let her hands shake as she downed it like a shot. Knowing Mingyu's truth serum would show its effects on her any time now, Na bi knew it was best to leave as soon as possible.

As she readied herself to bid goodnight and bolt, Changkyun spoke. 

“Is there any other reason I find you in my room in my absence yet again?” 

Na bi shook her head quickly before she slowed down, turning it into a nod. There was at least one answer she could try to get out of him tonight. 

“Yeah, there was something I wanted to ask…” 

Changkyun raised an eyebrow prompting her to continue but she trailed off, frowning at the dozens of maps laid out on his table. 

“That’s my hospital.” She pointed as Changkyun followed her line of vision. “And that’s the club that’s around the corner but…. I didn’t know there was a path between there?” 

“No one does.” Changkyun dragged his finger along the route. “It’s underground.” 

Na bi’s lips parted in surprise. No wonder these maps seemed foreign to her, filled with lines and routes of different colours, spanning across the city.

“Is this underground too?” Moving closer to him, she pointed at another unfamiliar one marked in red. 

“Not yet.” Changkyun’s hand reached for the pencil in her hair, spilling her locks over her shoulder as he drew over the lines. “I’m having it made as we speak. Wonho disagrees but I think having one near the Han river would help.” 

He looked up at her, eyes briefly roaming over the features of her face, down to the way her hair curled at her collarbone. Na bi was too focused on what was before her to notice the way his gaze lingered on her. 

“It looks like it leads to the Incheon port?” Her eyes followed the path. “A route like that must make it easier to transport things.” 

“And faster.” Changkyun added. “And undetected.” 

Na bi stared at him, a realization dawning. “Is this how you and your men move in the city without getting caught? Underground?” 

“Everything in the underworld happens underground, Ms. Baek.” Changkyun smiled. “It’s quite literal, I don’t know how no one has realized.” 

“How indeed.” Na bi wondered, muttering. “It’s plain but brilliant.” 

Changkyun smiled like he was pleased with himself.

“Over a century ago, when the Japanese had begun to infiltrate Korea, thousands of secret routes had been dug up all over the city for the Japanese army to move with discretion. After they left, many of those were discovered and shut, but rumor is, some of those are still hidden out there.” He pulled the map closer to himself, placing it beside another much older one. “For years my men searched for these abandoned routes but they’ve not been easy to find. Which is why I’m having new ones built under the city - it’s not easier but it's been more feasible than pointless searches.” 

“So you… search for and build roads?” Na bi tucked her hair behind her ear, confused at the prospect of Changkyun doing such odd jobs. “I had no idea.” 

“That’s because you never asked.” Changkyun leaned back against his chair. 

Na bi turned to him, leaning against the table, crossing her arms.

“Because you would have answered anything I asked?” 

“Anything.” 

It wasn’t just how quick he was to say that but also how confident he sounded. She raised an eyebrow, 

“Anything?” 

“Anything.” 

In the sudden, loud silence that fell upon the room, Na bi blinked at him, wondering how to test the waters. 

“Are we on an island?”

“Yes.” 

Na bi blinked stupidly at how calmly and quickly he answered a question she took over seven days to figure out. All she had to do was ask? 

“Does that mean this island is connected to the city….. underground?” 

“Underwater.” Changkyun corrected. “The tunnel from here to Seoul was the first route we laid. It was what birthed the idea of bringing our business underground.” 

Oh. 

“Are your headquarters also somewhere underground?”

“Not exactly.” Changkyun cocked his head like he was disappointed at the assumption. “It’s foolish to put all your cards in one place, Ms. Baek. The headquarters is on another island, about 5 miles from here.”

Bingo. She had been so right. 

“And that’s where all your men are? When they’re not constructing roads?” 

Changkyun scoffed, amused. “Yes but that’s just one of the many things my men are involved in. The least significant one in fact, as a favor for an old acquaintance. There’s a lot more we do.” 

“Like what?” 

“You are quite familiar with my line of work already Ms. Baek. You’ve been in the middle of it all.” 

“So stalking, kidnapping, threatening” Na bi counted on her fingers. “What else?” 

“Killing.”

Changkyun spun the lighter in his hand. 

A shiver ran down Na bi’s spine, words struggling to leave her mouth. 

Chankgyun noticed, cocking his head at her. 

“Do you know what power is, Ms. Baek?” 

Na bi shook her head in response. 

“The underworld is made of a lot more people than you imagine - people of high social standing, people with influence, people with money.... but they are powerless. Because anything in this world can be bought, Ms. Baek but not loyalty…. loyalty is earned.” Changkyun played with the small flame of his lighter. “And I earned it. It’s the loyalty of my men which gives me power. I have people willing to do the job, any job, be it build a road, take a life, or give their own to protect those important to me.”

Na bi felt her heart race behind her ribs.

“Do you now understand what power is Ms. Baek?” Changkyun smiled. “I am.”  

“Is that why…..” She racked her brains, putting everything together. “Everything about you is so hidden? Your identity, where you live, all of it? Because... you're sort of the winding key to the underworld?” 

Changkyun nodded. 

“Is that also why Ana figuring things out about you is such a concern?” 

Changkyun nodded again. 

“Did you…” Na bi stared at the ground, trying to sound as natural as possible. “You left that day saying you had a lead on her. Did you find her?” 

“I did.” Changkyun confessed. “Not the day I left though, we found her a few days after. She….” He shifted, voice softening a little. “I'm sorry but she was dead by the time we reached her.” 

“You found her dead?” Na bi frowned. “You mean she was dead already?” 

“There were bullet wounds on her back but we’re not sure who’s responsible. There was no one at the scene; no clues either.” 

Changkyun gazed keenly at Na bi’s face lost in thought. 

Na bi stared back at him wondering why the stories she was told were not aligning. She had seen the pictures Mingyu showed her, she had seen the wrist cuts….but Mingyu had also unknowingly mentioned bullet wounds. One of them was lying….

“You seem unfazed.” 

Na bi cleared her throat, pulling out of her thoughts. “In Seoul when someone is missing for this long, it's only sensible to consider this outcome.” She slid onto the table behind her. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

“I was worried about the kind of toll it might take on you.” 

Na bi’s lips parted in surprise. No one had ever said something like that to her before. 

“I’m strong enough to handle things like this.” 

And she truly was. Na bi knew she was tougher than most and she was used to being treated so too - like when Mingyu told her about Ana’s death without caring how it affected her. Or when Jihoon told to infiltrate Changkyun’s world without considering how hard it might be on her. Or when Seokmin gave her idea after idea to do the job but never once asked her how she was doing. She wasn’t used to being treated like this, like someone…..like someone capable of being hurt. 

“You are strong, but you don’t have to be Ms. Baek.” 

Na bi looked away before she gave in to the urge to throw herself into his arms. 

“Though what’s interesting is that you’re not as affected by her death as someone close to her would be.” Changkyun stood up, drawing her attention to him once again as he stepped closer. “Yet you did all you could to help her, including putting yourself in danger. Another person might think it's because of your humane nature or because you’re brave enough to go through with it but I don’t think so….. So if its okay to ask, why do you care so much Ms. Baek?” 

He was doing it once again. Reading her perfectly right like always. Asking her questions to which she couldn’t bring herself to give answers. 

She would be a fool to let it get to her again.

“What if I asked you the same? Why do you care about me?.......” She gripped the edge of the table to stop her hands from shaking, finally voicing the one thing she had been dying to ask him. “Is…. is it because I share the same name as your mother? Do I..... remind you of her?” 

Changkyun paused for a little, like he was trying to process the fact that she knew. 

“Yes.” He confessed. “And no.” 

“What does that mean?”

“It’s one of the reasons you got my attention,” He slid his hands in his pocket. “But it’s not the only reason I care.”

What other reasons do you have?

Na bi wanted to ask but she didn’t. Perhaps because she knew if she asked, he would tell her and Na bi wasn’t ready to hear the answer just yet. Not when she already had a hundred things on her mind. Like the fact that he didn’t kill Ana. He didn’t do the one thing she had constantly been using as a reason to push herself away from him. He didn’t break what he promised her. On the contrary, he offered her protection, he offered her safety, he cared more than anyone ever did….. And it wasn’t just because of the sentimentality attached to her name. 

“Are you okay Ms. Baek?” 

Changkyun peered at her, frowning. 

“No.” Na bi shook her head, genuinely not. “Why is it that though you answer everything I ask, it only makes things harder to understand?” 

Changkyun didn’t say anything to that. 

All this while Na bi had thought it was difficult to figure him out but now she realized, deep down, she didn’t really want to. Yes, given that she was so attracted to him, she was terrified of learning things that would make her ashamed of her choices and drive her away, but she was even more scared of learning things that would make her succumb and want to stay. Because all that heart racing in his presence, that she could pass off as a phase, that she could live with, but if it began to ache in his absence…..that she could not bear, that she could not afford. She had to end this before it went somewhere she could never come back from. 

“I’ll be gone in a week and I don’t think we’ll ever see each other again after that.” She slid off the table pulling away from him in more ways than one. “There’s no reason to and even if there is, I don’t think we should see each other again. I….. I think it’s best if we kept our distance Changkyun.” 

And he didn’t stop her as she walked away. 

Na bi felt like an idiot sitting in a box. 

She was surrounded by the tinted glasses of Wonho’s car, making yet another trip to the city, hoping it was her last one. She was supposed to feel proud of herself for all that she had figured out yet somehow she knew it wasn’t enough - Changkyun might have confirmed her theories, but she still had no proof of it, the kind of proof Mingyu had asked. Her plan was originally to record his answers on the phone Mingyu had given her but Na bi just could not find it. Deciding that she had perhaps left it in Seokmin’s office she made a mental note to take it from him for future use. 

When the car slowed down, Na bi knew they had reached the hospital, preparing herself as she slung her bag around her shoulder, taking a deep sigh before Wonho opened the door. He held out an umbrella as he stood under another, half drenching in yet another one of Seoul’s uncharacteristic rains. Na bi took it as she stepped out, muttering she would be back soon, before trotting away towards Seokmin’s office, navigating through the crowd of the hospital. It wasn’t uncommon for the hospital to be more packed on rainy days but it was somewhat strange that so many people were gathered right at the lobby, making Na bi slow her pace to look around at what everyone seemed to be whispering loudly about. She followed their eyes to the tv screen above. 

“Seventeen people have been found dead in the suburban area of Itaewon, prompting higher vigilance of police authorities after nearly 12 years of a crime free city. This is the first time since WipeOut in 2011 that violence of such extremity is being reported in Seoul, with this being the third incident of an attack in just a week. All citizens are cautioned that a dangerous criminal might be on the loose and are advised to stay indoors after nightfall. Please report any and all suspicious activity to 99….” 

Eyes shaking, Na bi took a step back and another, running out into the rain, approaching Wonho who was taking a smoke near his car, frowning at the sight of her.

“Where is Changkyun?” 

Wonho hissed. “Don’t take his name-” 

“Where is he?” Na bi raised her voice impatiently. “There was an attack in Itaewon earlier today, where did he leave to in the morning?” 

“To Itaewon…..” Wonho trailed off, quickly grabbing his walkie talkie from inside the car, speaking into it, pacing around. 

Na bi watched him recalling the last time she saw Changkyun, right before he left in the morning. As she descended down the stairs, he raised his head up from his breakfast, giving her one glance and leaving before she even reached the last step, before he even finished his meal. Mrs. Lee called out to him but he left wordlessly, giving Na bi the distance she had asked him. When Mrs. Lee glared at her as she approached, Na bi shrugged.

“We’re not fighting anymore.” 

“I know.” The older woman sighed. “This is worse.” 

“No one is responding." Wonho returned to her, breaking her reverie, looking just as troubled as she was. "The network around the city is down, perhaps because of the rain….” 

Swearing under her breath, Na bi opened the door of the car and sat in the passenger seat unlike her usual place in the rear, much to Wonho’s hesitation. 

“Get in Wonho, we need to go.” 

Knowing he had better things to worry about, Wonho obeyed, walking over to the other side and shutting the door as he sat, pressing the pedal hard. 

Na bi had been in way more stressful situations in her life but this was perhaps the most terrifying hour she had ever spent - an hour not knowing. Not knowing where Changkyun was, how he was and most importantly not knowing why she cared so much. That was why the moment Wonho slowed down the car to park at the driveway, Na bi opened the door and left, ignoring his disgruntled scolding from behind. It was only when she ran over in the pouring rain, burst into the house and caught sight of Changkyun standing in the middle of the living room, perfectly fine that Na bi finally took a breath of relief. 

Mrs. Lee called out to her as she turned to see the older woman rushing with a bunch of towels, wrapping her drenched, shivering body. Wonho followed close behind, not nearly as wet as she was but enough to be a target of Mrs. Lee’s annoyance for drenching her carpets. Changkyun immediately turned to Wonho, who rushed over to him, the two of them discussing something in deep tones as Na bi’s eyes found the bags by the door. As Mrs.Lee thrusted a glass of warm milk in Na bi’s hand, she turned to her, frowning. 

“Is he going somewhere?” 

Mrs. Lee looked at the two men conversing busily. “It seems the situation in the city is bad right now. He’s moving to the base till things sort out.” 

Sipping on the milk Na bi wondered if that was the only reason he was leaving.

She got her answer when Changkyun gave Mrs. Lee a short nod of goodbye but didn’t spare her even a glance as he left, Wonho following him closely. 

Na bi gazed at the waves of the ocean playing its own little game of catch with the sand of the beach while the sky began to morph into shades of pinks and oranges, the sun rising out of its home in the waters. Walking along the coast, feeling the cold sand beneath her feet, Na bi submerged herself in the thoughts heavy on her mind. 

She hadn’t slept all too well in nearly three days, spending most of her time sprawled on the sofa of the living room mindlessly. When Mrs. Lee asked her why she didn’t go back to her room Na bi simply claimed it was too cold for her. The older woman must know it was a lie but she didn’t say anything, letting Na bi stay miserably on the couch, secretly hoping to just get a glance of Changkyun if he ever passed by. 

And she did too, in the wee hours last morning as he stepped out of his room and headed straight out of the house. And also once the afternoon before, as he grabbed a bite from the kitchen and quickly spoke to Mrs. Lee about something before he left. Na bi knew she was the one who asked him for space, that he was doing exactly what she asked of him yet she was strangely hurt by the distance. 

It was even worse when Wonho told her he couldn’t take her to the city for the next few days given how risky things were right now. That meant neither could Na bi meet Mingyu and dump all that she knew so far onto him, nor could she talk to Changkyun and find out anything more. Hence over the last three days, in the event of her joblessness, the couch had become her best friend. She only finally got out of it a few hours ago, around midnight, to the sound of an annoying, continuous hiccuping.

Raising her head from the warmth she had sank into, Na bi’s eyes fell on Mrs. Lee sitting in the kitchen, a bottle of wine in her hand, her expression dazed. Both shocked and surprised, Na bi quickly pulled herself up and walked over, slowly sitting next to the clearly tipsy woman. Mrs. Lee looked at her with red, wet eyes. 

“I don’t understand why people enjoy alcohol. It's horrid.” 

Na bi gently removed the half empty bottle from her grip and set it on the counter. “Why’re you drinking it if you don’t like it?” 

“This is the only day in the year I drink.” She slurred. “Helps me sleep.” 

“What’s keeping you awake?” 

“The date.” She pointed at the calendar hung on the wall. “The terrible things that happened 12 years ago.” 

Na bi remained quiet letting the other woman ramble away. 

“There were so many people that day, men in black uniforms storming into the house, bullets firing everywhere… the screams, the horror.....” She trailed away. “Being the one left behind, that hurts more than anything. I don’t know how Changkyun handles the grief of losing his whole family in a day… I don’t think he ever has.” 

Na bi recalled Changkyun's words about his scar. 

Hit the corner of the table when I was running away. 

Running away from what? 

The people who killed my family. 

12 years ago…. He must’ve been a mere boy. Na bi’s life too changed for good 12 years ago….

Pulling out of her thoughts when Na bi turned to Mrs. Lee, the wine had already knocked her out, her head rolled back against the chair, softly snoring. She grabbed her blanket from the couch and covered the sleeping woman before leaving the house quietly, walking over to the beach. Slipping out of her shoes, she buried her feet in the sand, walking along the waters as dawn approached. 

I don’t know how Changkyun handles the grief of losing his whole family in a day. I don’t think he ever has.

Neither had she. 

Reluctant to relive the memories she had stowed away deep in her mind, Na bi tried to walk mindlessly. She was successful for the most part, covering nearly the whole coast over the last few hours, returning where she had begun from, her shoes far away like two tiny white specks in the sand, except standing right beside, staring at them was Changkyun. 

Na bi’s tracks stopped as she looked across the distance at the suited man before her. He looked like he always did, calm and stoic, but Na bi knew there was a storm going on inside him. She could tell that a very happy family was broken years ago today, that he was broken yet she wondered how he seemed so put together - Na bi for one wasn’t this composed when she lost who she loved most in the world.

She remembered the night Changkyun had asked about her sister, the night they drank together, slowly realizing that was not the only time she might have mentioned her. As Changkyun tore his gaze away from her shoes and watched the ocean instead, hands tucked in his pockets, Na bi felt a frown creep on her face along with a very blurred, forgotten memory from the night he first dropped her home….. 

“Are you going to leave now?” Na bi stared at Changkyun who was still standing by the door. “Stay.”  "I can't Ms. Baek.” He shook his head. “I shouldn't, I must go."  "Why does everyone want to leave me?” Na bi’s lower lip quivered, eyes threatening to fill with tears. “Why does nobody want to stay? Am I that bad?"  "You're....”  Changkyun’s gaze softened as he walked in, stripping out of his dinner jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. “You're quite an enigma Ms. Baek. Perhaps people aren't deserving of you." "Feels more like I'm the undeserving one.” Na bi sniffed. “I'm not even worthy of a goodbye, why else would my sister leave without even telling me?" She held his hand, looking up at him as he stood before her. "I hate goodbyes, but I hate not getting one even more…. Don’t leave without one." "I won't." "Promise?"  “Promises are empty words Ms. Baek.”  “Not for me.”  Changkyun stared at her for a bit.  Then he nodded. 

Na bi felt something tighten in her chest at the memory. 

“I’ll leave when you sleep.”

“I thought you left.” “Didn’t you ask me not to?” 

“I didn’t want to leave without letting you know.” 

She didn’t even realize when her lips curled into a small smile or when the tear rolled down her cheek, surprising her, pulling her out of her thoughts. Wiping it, Na bi stared at the stain on her fingers, hand slightly shaking. She wasn’t usually the kind to cry, she didn’t even know why she was so overwhelmed, why she was so at peace and disturbed at the same time. Sighing, she looked up to see Changkyun turned towards her, his face too far for her to read.

The second their eyes met Na bi felt like time had come to a strange halt where everything around seemed to move too fast but nothing seemed to move at all, like she wanted the moment to end right now but also drag to eternity, like his presence meant everything and nothing, all at once. 

As Na bi continued to lose the battle inside her, Changkyun broke his gaze, taking a step back to walk away when she finally took a step towards him, and then another. He stopped, watching her make her way to him, slip on her shoes and stare out at the sea, the way he was a while ago. When he resumed his act of leaving, Na bi spoke up at last. 

“My sister’s name is Bit na.” 

Changkyun looked over his shoulder as did Na bi.

“Bit na, Na bi, yeah that was on purpose.” Looking at the waves again, Na bi smiled at the memory of her sister and her playing in waters like these. “Baek Bit na, Baek Na bi, white light and white butterfly, that’s who we were.” 

Na bi took a step back, standing next to Changkyun, who continued to look at her.

“I don’t know where she is now. I don’t know where she’s been for the last, almost 12 years.” Na bi confessed, losing her fond smile. “And as for what happened between us…” 

She flattened the sand by her feet and sat down, looking up at him. “Do you have some time?” 

It felt like eternity passed before Changkyun finally sat beside her, shoulders barely touching, but his presence heavy, like a comforting weight. Yet Na bi felt her voice struggling to leave her throat. 

“Ms. Baek,” Changkyun started softly. “You don’t have to….”

Na bi shook her head. “People think it’s painful to share something that hurt you - it’s actually a whole lot more painful to keep it all in. And I’ve been doing that since I was four.”

She looked at him for a bit before she continued.

“Maryland orphanage - that’s where I was dropped off a few hours after my birth. They said it was a teen pregnancy – he wasn’t there, she was scared, the usual scene. My earliest memory is playing in that backyard. I was so happy there - there were so many kids my age, I had so many friends, we used to do everything together - it was like a never ending sleepover. That was until everyone slowly started getting adopted. Not me though. I didn’t get adopted for a long time, I don’t think I was the cutest kid.” 

“I doubt that.” Changkyun muttered, making Na bi chuckle. 

“Six years I watched people near and dear to me run at the name of a new home, leaving behind nothing but a goodbye. Back then I thought goodbyes were the worst thing ever, each one felt like a heartbreak.”

She smiled, thinking about how dramatic she was.

“When I was 10, a family finally wanted me….. I’m not sure ‘wanted’ is the right word, they just took me in. We lived in Jeju, somewhere near a sea like this, where it was quiet and isolated. My parents, the Baeks, weren't really the best adults. Yeah they’d feed me and clothe me but they’d also fight, all day and all night - verbal abuses, accusations, disappointments, sometimes things would be hurled across the room too. Every time they’d start, I’d run out of the house - it wasn’t like they cared about me enough to notice. I used to go to the sea and every time it was like a brutal reminder of that I went from being lonely to being lonelier. That I had found a house, not a home…… until the next summer.” 

Na bi looked at the waves creeping closer to them. 

“I didn’t even know they had another daughter till she came home during her vacation. She studied at a boarding school in Seoul - the typical rebel child they had given up on. They didn’t have any pictures of her anywhere, they refused to acknowledge her presence, they didn’t even tell her that they adopted me. I thought she would be like them, unbothered and unaffected by my existence but Changkyun she…”

She turned to him, recalling all the memories.

“I was looking for a sliver of someone’s heart, just a little space to fit in but she gave me all of it and more. She showed me what it was like to be loved in the best way possible. The ocean I once hated was where we would hang out for hours, home forgotten, the world forgotten - just the two of us and our little happy space of sandcastles and playing tag. She was so afraid of me being lonely again, she dropped out of boarding school and enrolled into the one I studied in. She never left my side, she was always there, we did everything together and then suddenly one day..... she was not.” 

Picking the skin off her fingers Na bi let out a deep breath. 

“It was a few days after I turned 15…..she was simply gone. No letter, no note, no explanation, she was just….gone. The Baeks said she ran away, like she always did when she wanted to act out. I thought she’d come back for me. I waited and waited and waited by the ocean but she didn’t. Days passed, months passed, years even, there was no trace of her. When I was 17, I no longer had to live in that house - the moment I enrolled into med school, I cleared my things, left them and moved to Seoul. To date, I don’t know where she is or why she left or if……” 

She’s even alive or not. 

“Goodbyes are hard but not getting one is heartbreaking. It means being stuck lifelong in a limbo of not knowing whether to wait or to move on, of not knowing whether it was your fault or not, if you could have fixed it or not. That’s why when it came to Ana I…..” Na bi sighed, playing with the sand by her feet. “You asked me why I care…. It’s because she reminds me of my sister - they have the same light, same brightness in them. That’s why I could never bring myself to get close to Ana - her existence is a haunting reminder of what I lost yet there was a strange comfort I used to get just watching her from a distance. That’s why protecting her, knowing what happened ....that's why it's all so important to me.”

Na bi hugged her knees, rocking softly.

“I’m sorry.” Changkyun finally spoke. “I wish things didn’t happen the way they did….”

“Me too.” She sighed. “Being left behind is hard, but it gives you a choice, between being a survivor and a living corpse. I tried so hard to be the former, maybe I even seem like one but only I know that I’m still stuck. That I’m still a 15 year old waiting on a beach, frozen in time, waiting for her to untag me.” 

Changkyun watched as she tucked her hair behind her ears, letting out a deep breath as she turned to him. “And as far as the case number of my first patient is concerned, I really don’t remember.” 

He laughed, shaking his head, as Na bi moved closer to him, looking at him softly. “I know there’s a burden you carry on your heart too. If you ever want to share it, I want you to know I’m there.” 

“Thank you.” He tucked back the hair that kept escaping in the wind, finger softly caressing her face. “Don’t worry, it may not seem like it, but I am the former; I'm a survivor.” 

Na bi nodded, not wanting to push him any further today of all days, choosing to slip her arm around his waist, burying her face in his neck. Changkyun wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her close as she felt his breath soft against her forehead. As the sun rose higher in the sky and the waves crept closer, Na bi who was always hyper aware of what she felt, didn’t realize one thing. 

Her heart, which always used to race in her chest in his presence was now beating steadily......like it had finally, finally found peace. 

Next chapter

[novankenn]

A Side kept hidden... (7)

( Table of Contents )

Cloaked in a ball-cap, a large hoodie, sunglasses, and a pair of carpenter style jeans, Pyrrha rode the bullhead back to Beacon. Hidden behind her glasses she eyes wandered. Male, female, slim, built, chubby... it didn't matter to her. All she saw was delicious subjects to unleash her urges upon.

Her hidden emerald eyes spied Russel Thrush, a member of team CRDL. She had to resist the growing need with in her, as she visualized the ministrations she could visit upon his slim form. Her mind trying to work out how quickly she could break him, and how delicious it would be to cast him aside once he was completely destroyed.

"It's only fitting." Pyrrha whispered to herself, "For all the misery you've heaped upon my Jaune."

The bullhead docked at Beacon shortly after those thoughts and Pyrrha pushed those thoughts and so many others into the shadows of her mind. It was time for her public mask. Without any effort she became that version of Pyrrha. With who she really was suppressed she made her way towards JNPR's dorm... for a well deserved rest.

/==/

On the return trip Jaune's mind was working overtime. He had two invitations to other Fight Nights, and he was slightly concerned. His opponent in his last match was not highly skilled. They had talent, that was without question... but they lacked the indicators of a life of training.

"That was a testing match." Jaune muttered to himself. "They wanted to test me, make sure I'm not a waste of time..."

Taking a detour from his route towards his team dorm, Jaune entered the locker area, and stuffed his pack into his locker, before grabbing a change of clothes he had stashed here. With questions and concerns still rolling about his mind, her set about to have a nice hot shower to easy not only his muscles, but also his mind.

/==/

Pyrrha was a little disappointed that Jaune wasn't in the dorm when she returned. That disappointment grew slightly into annoyance when Ren and Nora admitted they didn't know where Jaune had gone, and hinted that it might have been Vale.

Pyrrha's true persona threated to emerge, but she kept it restrained, though she did allow the images of Ren and Nora bound and enjoying her ministrations to filter to the front of her mind. She fought hard to keep the twisted smile in check as she pictured Ren restrained and locked in place as a seat, from which Pyrrha could torture Nora's sizable bust to her hearts content.

"They would bounce, jiggle and sway so deliciously." Pyrrha whispered to herself.

Jaune arrived back to the room about an hour later. He gave all his teammates his trademark goofy smile before dumping his soiled clothes in his hamper and moved to his bed.

"Jaune?' Pyrrha spoke up, her voice soft, and with a strong hint of affection.

"Yes?"

"What have you been up to today?"

"Nothing much, just out in Vale enjoying the day." Jaune replied as he got comfortable on his bed and pulled out his scroll.

"Should we go up and train tonight?"

"Can I get a rain check?"

"Is something wrong?" Pyrrha asked concern tinting her tone. Ren and Nora had gone off to the cafeteria for supper, so Pyrrha didn't feel the need to keep her voice from echoing her feelings.

"No, just a little tired from my day out." Jaune replied shooting Pyrrha another one of his smiled, causing her heart to flutter. "I mean if you really think we should I could probably scrounge up the energy to do it..."

"No that's okay. You get some rest." Pyrrha smiled back. She used a true smile, and not the fake plastic one she reserved for everyone else. "I'm a little tired to from my day out, so it's for the best."

"You were out in Vale?"

"Yes... I had some... meetings to attend to."

"You gotta slow down Pyr." Jaune commented, real concern in his voice. "Don't push yourself so hard."

"I'm going to be stepping back for awhile, so don't worry Jaune." Pyrrha responded. Jaune nodded and smiled again, before settling in on his bed and playing with his scroll. Pyrrha watched him for a few moments before deciding herself to have an early night.

[saradrewitt]

SARAH JACKALOPE I DESPERATELY NEED YOUR HELP WITH LEARNING HOW TO DRAW A TERZO EMERITUS PLEASE GET BACK TO ME

Hi! I’m so sorry this took a bit to answer!

FULL DISCLOSURE I am literally the worst person to ask because the way I do it always changes but I appreciate your trust in my inconstancy! I also have a hard time drawing him or the other papas for that matter without a reference. I can try to help the best way I can. here we go, I really hope this helps!

So the number don represent the order but just what I'll explain. First always consider the shape of the face I know this is just the sketch but we always start somewhere. 

(1) Take a look at the basic jaw structure my style always make it longer than it should be but in this case I'm taking in the fact that while I made this tutorial I was looking at a photo reference. (2) Then the ears. (3) The basic middle line mark. (4) Two lines are of course for the eyes and you must realize that our eye level matches the tip of the ears show in the picture for remember that. (5) What I personally do when I draw noses it just help with a realistic measurement of the brows and the nose size. if we’re looking at this through a stylized realism way, remember that the distance between the eyes is matched by the size of the nose. this is not the case for some people but look at refs of people’s noses and see that the size of the eyes is the same size of the nose.(6) The first initial circle is the base, but remember that that won’t be the size of a head. so expand it a little bit so there is extra room to get that hairline and detail when we get to that part (I ended up not paying attention and ngl Terzo ended up with a big ass head but shhhhh I warned you)....

I went ahead and did some detail work but this is what we’ll be seeing when I draw them. from pictures you can see the age lines and it’s really just a matter if you want the detail or not, done people can do that with little detail and make it look good but my style is in constant crises all the time so this is how I do it. you can also why I have the base sketch on top of my “lineart”.

So Terzo’s hair specifically is weird in my opinion. I normally have a part I go off from when I draw hair but his just has to be weird. Either way, when I draw his I go down from the middle and just make it both have that volume and fluff he normally has. (Agin in the end result I polished it up so his part is that square like formation seen in pictures).

Okay now the fun part, the papal makeup! The deep pink lines are the base sketch I usually draw up so when I color and shade it can be adjusted if needed. It also helps me know that proportions are somewhat realistic but with a small hint of my style as well. Idk I'm still in a style crisis as we speak and it’s gotten a lot worse since I've joined this fandom. 

When I think everything looks good I work with the black and color it. I normally like using our black when I work with lineart to give it that ink look. I called this blunt lineart (and shading cuz like I said my style is very inconsistent). Now if you’re working digitally I do this type of coloring on a layer on top of this sketch so when I low the opacity I can see if my placement is correct (again just of needed). if I think I got most of it correct that’s where I go I with my next step. 

Wow, it’s looking like Terzo now, look at our sweet boy with the rbf, Blessimo!

So in these next few steps I just add the white and added purple wrinkle likes that were cover by the blunt lineart. You can make those line grey or white depending on your style but I like adding his colors when I draw him digitally so that’s an option. Once I have everything done I just against as needed then move on.  

Lastly I finish up the lineart, work on some shadow work and add color, for sketched I don’t really do that but in this case I placed a color pallet I usually work with (it’s still gonna be inconsistent as I go) but this is usually what I do when I draw him. honestly to god my methods and process changes but I at least hope this was a helpful guide.

[fakestype]

Godfather is Seiya Hidaka tinfoil hat theory

Every I know is sleeping or working so I need to be unhinged I'm so sorry those are copy pasting from discord and my crazy antics about Gatekeeper and my tinfoil hat theories.

There's this thing with Priest and Gatekeeper that the two of them are both extremes of Godfather who was the middleground and was their God

And both see this part in one another and have a hard time dealing with that.

For Priest, he sees Gatekeeper as the part of Godfather he saw as a God who was so powerful and could do anything, have an impeccable routine while I picture Priest, described as very emotional, as basically a Mayoi amped to the 1000 as in like. Self hatred and hiding in one's shadows. Never being himself. He can't see himself as useful in anything but imitating someone else's excellence without ever reaching it. Gatekeeper is excellence in what he does and he sees this, but without the warmth and passion.

Gatekeeper sees Priest and sees the abhorrent part of Godfather, the disease he sees in everyone, without the backbone to make anything of it. He says it that it is like kind of pitifully common to him.

However, Gatekeeper is not in tune with emotions and how he feels about them when faced with people, there's something about Priest's passion that perhaps touch him but he cannot look up to it because it does not fit his excellence requirement.

They both see their God in each others without Him being there, and there is only grief.

Gatekeeper has grieved from what I see, while Priest has not, he can't, he's inconsolable.

We may not know a lot about Priest but pull out the legendary chart again

So there's Priest who's an orphan and is like I cannot do anything but mimick greatness I cannot be in the light and be the God and is just super emotional altogether

but then when God dies he literally takes place of said God

Then there's the God, the Ultimate Prodigy Super Idol

But then I'm like… man like some things just make me AAAAAA like there's something about Godfather looking at foster kids and being "Yes good" or himself just crafting his own biological kids to basically be like foster kids

Having no parents at all and be neglected in every direction Subaru is def a parallel to Apostle I can't just. Some places I feel like I'm lacking a thread I need to read more Enstars istg.

Because the entire Eichi Godfather Subaru Apostle parallel is to me like the light baby version of the crunchier dark af other parallel I'm trying to make

Because you got this thing with Negi/Hitsugi being rejected by Priest, their biological father, and then Gatekeeper helping them out and they are grateful to him. Like why would. Gatekeeper do that. WHy would he bring Negi back.

Is it just emotional. Is it for something else.

Is Negi going to be the next Apostle Priest want to bring back "trying to fulfill Godfather’s goal and to bring “Apostle” back into the light, without being fully aware that he is actually destroying it instead"

I am thinking before sending messages but I can also put in my thought like I have missing pieces that keep being shown as the story goes and I'm like AAAAAAAAAAAAAA because we do not know Godfather's last wish, not really like he wants a super idol that will transcend everything and I think it's kind of a torture porn situation where you ascend beyond humanity by being the embodiment of the art without any human quality which is like holy fuck ok which is to me why SS and just everything tries to break the people who tries to be idols or are idols to bring them to that potential and I can hahaha see why Gatekeeper a sadist who was probably a serial killer I believe before he was found by Godfather or some shit like that he's Patrick Bateman let's be honest Went

Maybe he did. Maybe he's just really sadist and not serial killer actually but like. HOnestly given Enstars. I'm here for the serial killer backstory before being an assassin. It'd be sooooo fucking extra of Enstars. because Gatekeeper was first and foremost like Nagisa said he was utterly terrifying, he was the limbs of Godfather and as I quote Nagisa he was here to destroy every obstacle in the shadow and Godfather is here like he sacrificed idols for to elevate the ones he loved most. And Nagisa goes on how brutal it was. Atop of everyone's reaction to Gatekeeper especially Hiiro. Ok 100% Gatekeeper killed again and again and again for Godfather. Now did he do it before. I feel like Godfather wouldn't hire him if he did not do it before. Like see him, saw it was only murder in this man's eyes, and be like "You're hired." He's too unhinged to not pick an actual serial killer. Like if you keep a rando sadist chances are he will leave evidence when killing for you you don't want that. So back at the chart I see parallels upon parallels of Godfather, Priest and Apostle and I'm like where are the Gatekeeper I blinked and I go "… is it Ibara?" Because we got what I feel is like Godfather era: the R-rated story The Godfather aftermath era whatever the fuck happened with his children: the PG-16 story Reimei era: the PG-13 story Yumenosaki: the PG story

And there's always a God figure someone who worships and want that for themselves while just not being able to achieve it, someone cold and calculated to elevate it, and that impostor syndrome and doppleganger idk what to call it twin ass stuff Which is kinda crazy because you can see the influence of Godfather in the current units we have, like what was nurtured through the generations came out as parallel units to it Eden: from Godfather's child to attempt at "grooming" one kid to be that human-less idol… but because it is Eden, Adam (Nagisa and Ibara who had the qualities to be inhuman) failed because of Eve (Hiyori and Jun who just were good friends) Ryuseitai: That hero syndrome of saving the world of idols 2wink: That fuckin impostor weird ass shit of I'm me I'm you who are we we're suicidal UNDEAD: the legacy that never dies fine: it's the cryptid ass beings holding the paradise in the search of their god (the super idol they want) Trickstar: Honestly so far I just think Trickstar is like, the innocence of it all, because the basis of that idolation is a search for innocence, and Trickstar is it, Trickstar winning in ! is how a jaded system found back its innocence and joy of life MaM: it's Madara going "what the fuck is going on AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" I'm thinking way too hard about this. I feel like if I do that for every other unit remaining it will be a flimsier parallel but I do think it's there

basically where are the Gatekeepers between R-rated and PG what the fuck are they doing I feel like a plotwist one day will be that Madara's parents are somewhere in that chart they're mentioned too often and fucked up as hell I'm going insane but I love that asshole

There's also the like… is Madara the parallel? Is the only other guy who wants to be the bloodied limbs of someone else but also who is it… Leo? Like because Leo is a genius who's about to "not be human" because he's a genius so it's always those figures who are prodigies who are elevated during the search of the real celestial god or am I going too far with that

Then there's like Double Face… which I think Godfather def wanted to do with… somebody… I kinda wanna say Apostle, but idk if Madara made Double Face in the way he knew Godfather wanted it to be. Because idk if Godfather would do illegal shit with Akehoshi who died not wanting to compromise his morals.

And then we talk about the illegitimate and adoption line but NEVER THE OFFICIAL ONE LIKE WHERE IS IT THERE'S TOJO AND THE NKANAME AND HIMERU BUT LIKE… DETAILS????

if anything we know more about the Tojo mothers the dad is a total mystery, did the dad have siblings who was his mom

also conspiracy theory Godfather felt betrayed Akehoshi got a family and a wife, which pushed him away from being a brilliant inhuman idol and more of a human so he orchestrated his death, hoped he'd take his help while in custody to be indebted to him and have him under his control because he loved him so much but he did not take it and died and thus Godfather is unconsolable because he killed the one he loved.

ngl if they say that Godfather#2 is Seiya i'm gonna die (taking that out of my ass but funny thought)

Seiya being so close to Ibara and seeing Ibara as the future of the generation when he's. You know. Evil mastermind. Tales of Antique mentioning their interests align. Seiya being WEIRD AF WITH SUBARU. Akehoshi and Seiya's past. Tales of Antiques AGAIN mentioning how Akehoshi's death deeply affected it so he took an "Idol Robot" persona to protect himself WHICH FITS THE WAY HIMERU DOES KANAME NOW THAT I READ OBBLIGATO WHICH WOULD FIT ABOUT THE REAL SEIYA DYING AND PRIEST TAKING HIS PLACE ALSO THIS DESIGN FOR A FACE IS JUST EVIL IT'S SHARP ALL OVER.I KNOW DESIGN

IT'S VOICED BY MOTHERFUCKING SHINICHIRO MIKI AND THERE'S BASICALLY NOTHING DONE WITH THAT LEVEL OF TALENT AND SEIYA UNLIKE ANY OTHER RELATIVE OF THE CHARACTERS HAS A PORTRAIT, A VOICE, HE HAS A PRESENCE WHEN HE BASICALLY DOES NOTHING BUT SAY "HEY GUYS IM HOKUTO'S DAD" WHY WOULD HE HAVE ALL THIS OF THIS QUALITY WITH NOTHING DONE WITH YET―THATS BECAUSE HE'S GODFATHER GDI.

"Do your best to follow in my footsteps and become model prisoners of idol jail ♪"

I'm going insane. Maths (homework) turned me insane.

forgot to add Hokuto not seeing Seiya during his childhood the neglect is here it fits Seiya being a Super Idol. Now "why does no one identify Seiya as Godfather then uh genius" WELL WHY DOESN'T ANYONE KNOW ABOUT THE YUMENOSAKI WAR UH HIDE THE EVIDENCE ITS THAT EASY. Me: I won't invest so much into Enstars lore and theory I'll just chill with my bois I need to tellmyself it is impossible

This started out with me looking up initially for parallels Apostle - Godfather and I was like who's Godfather for Subaru… sure Eichi is at the helm of the system but he does NOT see Subaru like THAT (it's Wataru for him) then I was like … Hokuto? and I was like Hokuto Subaru is PG version… wait

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

Chapter 8: Medcentre

A/N: Still contributing to Tech Tuesday with my meagre offerings 🥹

Warnings: Bit of a Hunter centric chapter but Tech still features heavily. Mentions of panic, stress, Tech is right there with his voice and comfort. Description of injuries and medical talk, mild assault (Stitch is grabbed). Small time jump. (I was going through a Hunter stage when I wrote this and it shows. I’m sorry 🫠)

Word Count: 5.5k+

3 months later.

“I may recharge for the night.”

“Yeah sure,” you told Beetoo. “I can clean up here.” As you gathered things to put in the sterilisation chamber you heard the door open and close. “Come tomorrow, I have no more appointments.”

“And here I thought we didn’t need them.” You whirled round to see Hunter slumped in the doorway, a hand spread on his side under his chest-plate. Long strands of dark auburn hair drifted across his face, covering the expression that spread over his features, he was in a great deal of pain and it showed.

“Hunter!” You helped him to the bed. “What am I dealing with?” Your hand hovered, ready to act.

“I don’t think it’s penetrative,” he grunted. “Possible fractured rib.” You noticed when he breathed in his entire body stuttered, like he couldn’t fill his lungs properly.

You released the gription so the armour loosened; gently putting the chest-plate on the floor, eyes exploring the broad plain of his chest. The padding was still intact and that was a good sign. You released his spaulders and removed the vambraces, followed by his gloves.

“I’m going to remove your padding now.” Gently you tugged the material away, helping him slip out of it to reveal his tanned, toned, tattooed skin. The tattoo on his face extended down his chest but it did nothing to hinder the bruise that blackened his side.

Grabbing your handheld scanner you pressed the sensor onto his skin, “Breathe,” you ordered. He sucked in a breath through his nose, face pulling as he tried not to make a noise. You watched his breathing pattern on the screen and looked for any anomalies. “I don’t see pneumothorax…lay back.” He complied, settling back on the bed so you could feel his stomach. Your fingers glided over his skin, looking for anything that wasn’t rock hard muscle. You found a soft area and he bit back a yell, his entire body reacting to the pain. “No hemothorax either, I do need to get a look inside.” You moved away to start the tomography machine, pressing the necessary programmes you needed on the screen.

You helped him take the rest of his armour off, removing his boots and greaves, placing them carefully to one side. Soon he was stripped to the waist, only his tan coloured trousers remained. He moved slowly; not the sure footed Hunter you were used to.

He hesitated, eyeing the machine like it was going to bite him. “It’s just to take a picture so I can see where the fracture is and if you have any bleeding.” Approaching him cautiously you could see distrust in the downturn of his mouth. “You’re not leaving here without this scan, Hunter.” He nodded, still holding his side as though it was making him feel better.

“I just, lay down?”

“Yes, but first…” you reached up to slip his bandana off releasing the messy top of his hair. He really had the best hair of the whole Batch.

He took the material from your grip, tossing it in the pile with his armour. “Now you’re ready.” He moved away, easing himself onto the bed with a held back grunt when the pain got almost too much. It lit up around him, the soft blue glow casting shadows across his face as he tried to get comfortable. You started it, listening to the whirring that seemed to clear your mind better than meditation.

Quickly the picture was put up before you and it was worse than Hunter was letting on. “Now I know why you didn’t want a picture,” you told him. “I see two non-displaced rib fractures in ribs eight and nine. Also, your temperature is currently sitting at 38°C which means you are now under observation.”

“No I can’t… we have…”

“And they’re going to have to do it without you,” you spoke over him, crossing your arms in a very Hunter-like stance.

“Can’t you just give me something for the pain?” Hunter asked hopefully.

“You walk out this door and go hanging off cliffs or rolling around the floor in shoot ��em ups, those ribs are going to dislodge and then you won’t be breathing, let alone anything else.”

“Stitch…” he made that face, the one where he was going to ask you to do something you shouldn’t with those big brown eyes…

“No!” You held up a hand and turned away from him. “I am doing my job, what I am paid for, something you encouraged me to do!” Angrily you gathered up the droid's utensils and shoved them in the sterilisation chamber.

“How long am I out of commission?” Hunter grumbled the words, his posture slumped on the end of the tomography machine.

“You are banned, banned from any heavy lifting or strenuous activity for at least three weeks. You need to sleep upright for 5 days or until you feel able to lay down comfortably. If you cough hold a pillow against your chest.” While you were talking your hands were busy making a shot of painkillers to give him, loading the vial into the injector and coming to a stop at his side. Placing a hand on his bare shoulder you leaned in to find the perfect spot on his neck to administer the dose. The injector hissed but he didn’t even wince, just kept his rich, caf coloured eyes trained on your concentrating face.

“You said I’m under observation?” He was so close, you could feel the heat radiating off his skin and you made yourself back away.

“Yes. Your temperature is higher than it should be so you need to spend one night here.” He looked away, clearly mulling over the information you’d given him.

“I need to contact Echo,” said as he stood up. Nodding you bent down and picked up his comlink.

“I’ll find you some clothes.” The supply cupboard was nice and cool, the glow panels blinking to life when you walked in. You had so much in here, you really should do an inventory soon.

When you returned Hunter was waiting patiently for the fresh clothes, a grey hoodie and some loose fitting trousers. Wordlessly he took them and you left him to change, moving his armour into the small private room you had for patients staying the night. You put in an extra pillow in case he needed it in the night, smoothing out the covers and stepping back to make sure everything was perfect.

His hand caught you, stopping you from bumping into him and you jolted like he’d burnt you, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“N-no it’s ok,” hating the way your voice wavered because of the unexpected contact. “If you need anything just press this, I don’t sleep much so chances are you’ll catch me awake.” He was looking at you with such a soft expression it made your whole throat dry up and you had to cough to continue talking. “If your pain worsens or you start feeling unwell, struggling to breathe…well the sensors will alert me anyway. Goodnight,” you breathed, skirting round him when he stepped back to allow you to pass. You weren’t finished in the medbay but you had to distance yourself. Knowing that any of the Batch were hurt sent you in a spiral so you did the only thing that would calm you down.

“Havoc-2, do you read me?”

“I read you, Havoc Medic.” There…that’s what you wanted to hear.

“Are you sure this is a secure channel?” You turned the com over in your hands, still marvelling at Tech’s technical genius. He had given you these coms a couple of months ago but you’d only used them once or twice. You had held them much more than that, frightened to push the button and find him out of range or just…busy. But even holding them helped you in a way, knowing that Tech gave you this was enough sometimes.

“I programmed these coms myself, someone would have to be cleverer than me to hack them. No one alive like that exists.” Even over the com you could hear the touch of steadfast pride in Tech’s voice at his own abilities.

“I’m sure a droid could eventually crack them open,” you responded slyly.

“A droid is not a sentient and therefore, not classed as alive.” There was a pause where he waited for you to respond but you had no idea what to say. “Are we going to hold a conversation or was there a specific reason you contacted me?”

“I…I was just wondering how the big ships in the war worked?” You could just imagine the disappointed grimace on his face at your vague description, the adjustment of his goggles as he prepared to launch himself into this stream of information retelling.

“I am going to need you to be more specific, to which ships are you referring? Republic or Separatist? All ships are large to someone, are you asking about ships that house over seven thousand crew or ones that only need 200 hundred but can carry 100,000 tonnes…”

“Tech. Pick a favourite.” You rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, laying the com on the pillow beside you and resting your hand behind your head.

“Ah. If you had just asked that in the first place,” there was a slight scuffle and you were sure you heard the buzz of his tools as he spoke. “What systems were you interested in?”

“The engines, tell me about the engines.”

“Very well. My particular favourite is the Venator class star destroyer. Primarily used as flag ships for the Jedi Generals during the Clones Wars era. These ships had 4 primary drive engines…” closing your eyes you breathed in deeply, letting it out in a controlled way as Tech emptied his mind of every scrap of information about these ships you really had no interest in. You weren’t even sure how long he talked at you, not even bothered if you were still listening, he was just happy someone had asked for information he could give. It wasn’t until you realised he’d stopped and your heart picked up at the idea you could have fallen asleep and it might offend him.

“Havoc-2?” You whispered.

“I had assumed you’d fallen asleep.”

“Sorry.”

“Do not be, it is late and your appointments are rather full for the next few weeks.”

“Tech, did you download my appointments?”

“Well I…” he cleared his throat and again you imagined the quick goggle adjustment probably a finger to the middle of them this time. “Yes. That is how Hunter knew you were done for the day.”

“How long did he wait until he came to see me?”

“He did not seem that injured, so he decided to complete the mission before seeking your assistance.”

“Tech.”

“He waited approximately 15 standard hours and 48 standard minutes. I understand now that might not have been the best course of action.” Pinching the bridge of your nose you wondered why the Galaxy had thrown you in the path of these reckless maniacs.

“I should get some sleep. Thank you Tech.”

“I should hope, next time we meet, you can tell me the fuel consumption rate of a Venator at full light speed.”

“Maybe I will,” you teased.

“Goodnight, Havoc Medic.”

“Night Havoc-2. Medic out.”

You woke the next morning, groggy and heavy lidded. Another night of restless sleep haunted by deep voices with no name and painful reminders. You changed, moving to the kitchen and making two cups of caf. You could never eat in the morning, whether it was a habit because you were used to rations or it was just who you were as a person—you couldn’t tell anymore.

You knocked on Hunter’s door but got no response so you left the cup on the floor to the side and went to set up for the day. Beetoo woke up, her receptors blinking like a tired human and you appreciated that touch from Tech.

“Good morning Stitch,” he said in her melodic voice. “Another full day ahead.”

“So it would seem,” you replied as you emptied the sterilising chamber.

“We have a guest,” the droid stated. “And yet there is nothing on my records.” That you didn’t appreciate, she really sounded like Tech sometimes.

“He came in late. I’ll do it today.” Which reminded you, he needed some meds. “Make me a dose of this please?” You showed the droid the meds you gave Hunter last night and she instantly went to work.

“How long is his observation?” The headpiece swivelled around to look at you, the arms still flawlessly doing their job.

“Just for 24 standard hours, as long as his temperature comes down.” You took the injector off her but this time you didn’t knock. The door slid open and you expected to see him sitting up or waking up with the noise. Hunter didn’t move, staying slumped in his semi upright position.

“Blast it!” The sensors hadn’t been switched on because you were too distracted last night and now his condition had deteriorated. “Beetoo! Bring me the kit!” Your instincts kicked in, checking his pulse, watching his breaths, listening for any wheezing and noticing the fine sheen of sweat that covered his marked face. “Hunter. Hunter, can you hear me?” He groaned softly, his brow wrinkling at your loud, firm voice. The torch flickered over his eyes and you saw a good reaction from both, next you pressed the scanner to his chest, watching the lines on the screen as it registered his breathing and heart rate.

He showed no obvious signs of distress aside from the elevated temperature and a racing heart so you went ahead and gave him the shot, smoothing down his damp hair as you did.

“Should we move him to the bays?” The droid asked but you shook your head.

“We are full today, leave him here and we’ll keep checking on him. Set a timer for the next lot of meds he needs.” The door com sounded and you groaned, your day was going to be a whirlwind.

Beetoo and you checked in on Hunter often. His temperature dipped and he stopped sweating but he didn’t wake up fully, only managing to open his eyes for some water before passing out again. If he didn’t improve you were going to have to scan him again.

Beetoo was clearing up after the busy day while you dealt with the last patient. A Rodian, bright green skin and brilliant starry eyes. He had a nasty slice in his forearm but refused to tell you how he’d acquired such a laceration. Still, you took the time to numb him and sew it up, some of your best work. Bacta was great in emergencies and it prevented infection but it didn’t stop the scarring from such a deep wound. Nothing but perfect stitches could minimise that risk.

“Keep the bandage on for a week, you’ll need to come back to have it redressed and if you feel unwell or the pain doesn’t subside you’ll need to return.” You grabbed the datapad that Tech had modified for your use in the medcentre and held it out. “If you could just enter your chaincode, payment will be taken automatically.” You had rules, if Cid sent someone to you they made it known and you used a modified code for their payment, otherwise everyone else had to input their own code in. You weren’t a charity, you needed to survive.

“No.” Instantly you were on the defensive, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

“I just need your code…”

“I said, no.” Before you could react the Rodian jumped you. His hand clamped over your mouth to stop you screaming and to your horror, you froze. Eyes rolling, mind shattering at the sensation of confinement, the squeezing of his arms, the ragged breath, it brought forward all your demons.

Your heart throbbed in fear, your legs sagging refusing to hold your weight so he hauled you upright; dragging you towards the door. Small whimpers passed involuntarily through your lips, tears wetting your face but still the Rodian kept his tight grip on you.

“Going somewhere?” A deep voice penetrated the hazy fog you’d fallen into and it kicked you to react. If the Rodian got hold of Hunter he could seriously hurt him. You brought a heel down on his foot, an elbow jab to the solar plexus had him loosening his grip and you managed to free yourself gasping wildly for air. Thankfully your patient took one look at Hunter glaring at him from the doorway and fled outside.

You used the wall as support, trying to calm yourself and concentrate on Hunter who had gone to check everything was clear. When he came back his attention was on you.

“Stitch? Are you still with me?” Tentatively he reached for your shoulders, putting his concerned face right in your unfocused eye line.

“Y-yes! Y-you shouldn’t b-be out of bed y-yet.” Get a grip, Needles. Closing your eyes and swallowing down the excess fear only to move it from your throat to your insides.

“I felt something was wrong.” Hunter and his senses. Of course he did. Your hand was shaking badly when you reached for his neck and tried to take his pulse. Most people would have frowned, told you not to do that, ushered you somewhere else and made you sit down, but not Hunter. He gazed at you with those beautiful eyes, letting you feel the beat of his body through his skin, watching your lips mouth silently as you counted.

It calmed you, centred your mind and gave control of your body back. With a quiet exhale you rested your hand on Hunter’s shoulder, feeling the softness of his hair brushing over your fingers.

“Thank you,” the words were barely a whisper but he gave you a small smile, just in the corner of his mouth. He turned back towards the door, hauling you roughly behind him as it opened to reveal the rest of the Batch.

“Hunter! Oh…” Omega drew up quickly, bringing Tech, Echo and Wrecker to a halt. Hunter dropped his defensive stance straight away and moved aside.

“Is everything all right?” Tech shoved his goggles up his nose a little harder than necessary as he peered at you both.

“What’s happened?” Echo demanded with a frown.

“It’s fine,” Hunter held his hands out to try and calm the squad before they ran off to find whoever had upset you. “It’s been dealt with.”

“You’ve been crying,” Omega innocently pointed out, her look of concern almost a mirror of Hunter’s.

“I’m fine. Just someone refused to pay…” you told them, wiping at your eyes.

“Are you hurt?” Tech stepped forward and you gave him a shaky smile, appreciating the softened tone when he spoke to you.

“Who was it?” Wrecker snarled from the doorway. “Want us to find ‘em?”

“I really don’t think they will be back.” Turning your attention back to Hunter you saw him favouring his side. “Sit down at least, medics orders.” You went to help him but Echo was already there, taking Hunter’s weight on one side and leading him back to the bays. Omega followed, her deep hazel brown eyes watching her brother closely.

“Did you want me to pinpoint who had registered to the medcentre and trace them that way?” Tech was already tapping on his datapad, probably hunting down whoever it was.

“No, Tech. I can lose the payment for this one.”

“Logically, you can’t afford to lose any payments, not only does it support you, it repays Cid and the small amount of our debt you so selflessly offered to cover.”

“Tech,” Echo scowled slightly and tried to convey a silent message, which was not received.

“I was just stating the truth,” Tech replied.

“Not the best time,” Echo started, pushing you to step between them.

“He’s right though,” you started, holding out a hand to placate Echo before turning to Tech. “Maybe it’s something I can think about tomorrow, hmm?”

“Yes, I suppose that is acceptable,” Tech conceded with a quick nudge of his goggles. Hunter chose that moment to moan, his effort to hide it was caught by you and it hit you that he hadn’t been given his last dose.

“As lovely as it is for you all to visit, Hunter is still under observation and I need to give him some meds.” You winced as Wrecker clapped Hunter on the shoulder, making him gasp in shock from the pain.

“Oops. Did I break more ribs?”

“No. Not quite, Wrecker,” Hunter curled a hand around his side, leaning heavily on his wrist that was perched on his knee.

“See you soon Hunter,” Omega sadly waved as she followed Echo to the door. Wrecker went next and then Tech almost reluctantly followed.

“I need to find my droid,” you huffed. “Go back to bed, Hunter .”

“Yes ma’am!” He called after you.

Beetoo was standing in front of the sterilisation chamber, all her tools were inside but her photoreceptors were off. Tutting softly you wheeled her over to the charging port and pushed her in until it clicked. You were going to have to ask Tech to run a diagnostic, but it explained why she didn’t come to your aid.

You filled the vial and took it straight to the private room, leaning over your patient and giving him the shot in the neck like always. “You’ve definitely improved. I would like to see another scan before you go, just to be sure.”

“I can do that.” He watched you walk to the door where you made sure the sensors were on this time. “Are you sure you’re ok?” For a second you considered spilling everything, how the Rodian had made you feel, how it just brought back all your deepest and darkest—instead you plastered on that well versed smile.

“Yes I’m sure. I’m going to lock up, get some rest,” you ordered with a finger to emphasise your point.

Reaching the front door had your mind reeling. Part of you wondered what the Rodian was going to do with you and part of you really didn’t want to dwell. With shaking hands you locked the door and retreated with hurried footsteps back to your room. Walking backwards you climbed onto your bed, eyes fixed on the closed door as your heart quickened. No no no! Not now! Gathering your legs, you began to rock, squeezing your eyes shut but that just made your feelings worse.

The tightening started in your chest, restricting your breathing enough to make you drag a gasping breath in. Your com sounded and you nearly leapt off the bed in shock. It took a few attempts to grab it but finally you did and answered the call.

“Havoc medic, do you read me?” Tech. Tech went back to the ship and called you as soon as he got there. “I repeat, do you read me?” There was an edge of urgency to his tone and your face scrunched up as you tried not to cry.

“Tech…” the waver in your voice couldn’t be disguised.

“You sound distressed. Do I need to come back? Is Hunter ok?”

“Hunter—Hunter is fine.” You sniffed and rubbed the back of your hand over your cheek.

“But you are not.” It wasn’t a question and he couldn’t see you, but still you nodded dumbly at his words. “What can I do?”

“Just keep talking,” you whispered.

“That I can do. Any particular topic or would you like a briefing of todays events?”

“Today, what happened would be good.”

“Very well. It started in Cid’s parlour of course, she told us she needed something picking up…” closing your eyes you let out a shaky breath. His voice was calming, his descriptions so detailed it allowed you to zone out and detach, to tell your demons to go away and that they wouldn’t get the better of you.

You muffled the sobbing, hoping Tech didn’t notice, if he did he chose to ignore it; continuing on to tell you about the Mantell Mix incident. Eventually you laughed, a hiccuped giggle and he did pause at the sound. Laying down and wrapping yourself in a blanket you stared at the com, wishing you were brave enough to ask him to come back.

“And that is why Cid has a rather sizeable bill for Mantell Mix.”

“Can’t deprive Wrecker and Omega of that,” you said quietly, wiping at your face as you did and sniffing slightly.

“Well, she could. But I don’t think even Cid would want to face those consequences.” There was a silence, but you were used to them with Tech, sometimes he just needed to have a think before saying anything else.

“Thanks for this, Tech. I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”

“I felt compelled to make sure you were all right. I deduced you might not be. Turns out, I was correct.”

“I am better now, talking to you.”

“I had hoped it would be sufficient.” There was another pause where you realised you didn’t want to cut the call off just yet. “Was it sufficient?”

“Yes, Tech. It helped more than you know.”

“Good. It is late, you need some rest.” The panic threatened to claw its way free but you managed to keep it at bay.

“Yes, Goodnight Havoc-2.”

“Goodnight Havoc Medic.” The light died before your eyes and you reached for it, curling your fingers round the small device and feeling the edges biting into your skin. It was the closest you could get to Tech right now and you didn’t want to let it go.

The fire was so hot, it seared at your skin when you threw up your hands to try and protect your eyes. Part of the ceiling came loose, dropping to the floor and adding to the burning pile that used to be the Academy library. The wet cloth you’d tied around your face was barely working anymore, the smoke was curling and burning as it entered your lungs making you cough.

You knew there was a door nearby but you were disoriented, trying not to fall into the pit of blind panic as you felt your way along. Your eyes were closing against the thick smoke, your lungs bunching in your chest with every breath and you knew you had to get out.

You didn’t see the arms as they stretched through the haze but you did feel them. Scales that pinched your skin, their sharp edges cutting in to the softness of your lips. Long black claws dug into you, drawing blood and making it ooze slowly from the wounds. You tried to fight but they overpowered you, dragging you deeper into the smog filled place only to burst out of a door and fresh air cascaded over you.

The Trandoshan threw you to the ground where you sputtered and heaved air into your suffering body, lungs squeezing and vibrating as they struggled to cope. The grass was cool on your skin and you fingers curled in the stalks, crushing them in relief that you weren’t in the building anymore.

A flat reptilian foot kicked you over, disturbing your brief moment of sanctuary and drawing you back to your predicament. There was a group of them, long serrated teeth and glowing green and yellow eyes that stared hungrily at you.

“Thisssss her?” You recoiled from them, your eyes fixating on their long tongues as they licked their teeth.

“Yessss.”

“We got what we came for. Move out.” Their pleased guttural cries rang out into the darkness, a hand grabbed your throat and hauled you upright. On instinct you spat in his face, awarding yourself a slap across the face that split your lip and rattled your brain. “Ssssseems she needsssss some manners.” When you regained your vision all you could see was the Academy burning down. The only place you had belonged and stayed in for more than a few rotations. Bodies littered the ground, just humps in the dark but you knew what they were.

You screamed, you couldn’t help it. Sounding like a wounded animal as your brain began to shut down. You tried to stop seeing but it was too much, too overwhelming. You cried until your throat gave up, your tears stopped flowing and you barely had the energy to lift you head.

The Trandoshans let you have your melt down, sniggering and pointing as they dragged you along the ground. Your eyes began to close, the fire touching the stars was the last thing you saw.

Screaming…you could hear screaming. Desperately you tried to get your body to wake up, to move but it felt like you were covered in a sheet of thick durasteel. The noise grew louder, such a noise of pure anguish, you wanted to help them.

“Stitch!!” Was that…? Hunter? “Stitch! Wake up!” Your eyes snapped open and you launched up from the bed covers straight into Hunter’s solid body. He grunted and grit his teeth when you collided with him, your breath ragged as you realised you’d been the one screaming.

You sobbed into his shoulder, your entire body shaking and he gently encircled you with his arms. “You’re safe,” he murmured over and over again, stroking your hair as he soothed you. Quickly you managed to bring yourself back from the brink, refusing to fall into the yawning chasm in your soul.

“You can let go.” Immediately he released you, sliding down the bed so he wasn’t touching you but he wasn’t leaving you either. Your lips quivered, struggling not to draw back with the anguish that stalked you all day, everyday.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, choosing to stare at your hands as they shook in your lap. Get a grip, Needles. Ironic—that Cid’s voice was the one you used to shock yourself back to being…normal.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter murmured. “I couldn’t leave you.”

“No, I imagine I was pretty loud.”

“That’s not…”

“I know,” you reassured him. “I was trying to make a funny.” Glancing up you gave him a trembling smile and he gently shrugged one in return. “How are you feeling?” You forced yourself off the bed, grateful you had fallen asleep in your clothes last night.

“No temperature and the pain is, less.” Cocking an eyebrow you looked back at him.

“Are you just saying that so you can go back to the squad?” He didn’t give you an answer, twisting his mouth and looking to the side as he avoided your accusing glare. “It’s fine. I just need the scan and then you can go, someone should come and get you though. Tech or Echo, hell, even Omega so I can pass your meds on to a sensible person.” Hunter stood up, his presence large behind you but it wasn’t scary. Usually you hated people approaching you from behind but somewhere inside, you knew this man would never lay an unwanted hand on you.

“I’ll contact Echo.” You nodded, hearing him leave your room and only then did your shoulders slump. Face scrunching up as you fought a fresh wave of tears, pushing them away and breathing through the urge until it subsided. You needed to put the mask back on.

“The scans look good, you can go back but,” you locked eyes with Echo who visibly swallowed at the change in your tone. “If I find he’s been lifting things or being a hero, you will all face my medic wrath.” Lifting up a black box you handed it to Echo. “This holds his meds, the vials are all measured out exactly, he needs one in the morning and one in the evening. I will be checking.”

“Tech has already rigged up a reminder system in the ship,” Echo hastily told you. “Don’t worry, Hunter will be on light duties for the foreseeable.”

“I need you back here in a couple of weeks for another scan,” your voice softened as you addressed Hunter.

“Yes ma’am.” You noticed the amusement in his hazel rich eyes, the slight smile and it almost made him look younger in that moment, as though someone finally caring about him had shed years from the lines on his face.

“Go on, get out of here.” You turned your back on them letting Echo help Hunter into his gear.

“She sounds more like Cid everyday,” you heard Echo grumble and smirked to yourself.

Already the bays were full of people, most of them minor ailments that Beetoo could deal with while you updated your notes. You stripped Hunter’s bed, taking peace in doing it yourself rather than waiting for the droid. The rest of the day passed in a blur until, finally you flopped onto your bed and thankfully fell into a dreamless sleep.

[kanraandchrome]

Opinion on the LIs of MCL New Gen

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT RED SHADOW LEGEND. Anyways, here are my two cents about the characters, their designs and hopes I have for their routes.

Devon

I really love his eyes full of wonders, since you have to be extrovert and always searching for new ideas when you work in event management (how to market it, how to please both the clients and the people you're going to source the project to, finding catchy sentences or downright awful puns) but I love his hands even more, the way the interior is lighter, his long fingers, it reminds me of Mahershala Ali's hands and I hope he was one of the models to create the character. His hair are also a nice touch, especially the colors blending ! Seeing him in bright colors is refreshing, he seems fun and full of peps ! Sure black clothes give a more classy vibe, but we're managing events not burials. And do you even know how bright are the colors of some African clothes (search for dashikis, they are amazing and bright and joyful and...) ? I'm overall really happy to see a black man not bald nor fully dressed in black because god forbid they wear colors.

I'm hoping for a route like Rayan's, with a bit of conflict because dating your boss can lead to a lot of inequalities and risks for the low-rank involved, but I'm pretty sure we won't get a lot of dramas this season (apart coming from players who are so chronically online they can't not play a game that will make them miserable but that's another issue). I think he might have an ex ? Or past relationships that failed because his balance between work and personal life is bad ? Maybe Candy and her freshness/ability to surprise him and take him out to touch grass will be the balance he needs ? Honestly I'm hoping for praises from him, awful puns, dad jokes and a lot of complicity.

Roy

Oh, is he gonna be the Castiel of the game, but more chill ? People seem to love him a lot already and I can't fault them, he's handsome, looks nice and has tattoos (you can see it on his right shoulder, the black strip). His long hair looks very nice to braid, and I can just picture him as the outdoor guy, the one who always want to see the places the events are gonna take place since he's probably very good with spatial thinking !

He looks a bit "bland" at first sight, but I'm sure he'll show another side, probably more caring once he notices MC is not here to only get in his pants. He looks like he'd listen to any rant without taking side and just feed you until the anger dies down. Himbo maybe ? We'll see ! But he looks like the most gentlemanly of them all and I'm sure he'll be the one to ask Candy out first, probably after a date to the beach or so. Dake style but less flirty ? he's my least liked LI so I have a hard time thinking about possibilities about him.

Amanda

Oooooh she looks like a Targaryan !! Joke aside, she looks preppy enough and is probably the most down to earth of them all (and not just because she's a Taurus). I'm thinking that maybe, she'll get Yeleen's kind of personality ? The fair but harsh one ? She'll get the job done for sure, and the color palette is really soft and fashionable. Having a plus size LI is already a remarkable step forward, but making her so pretty AND dateable ? Now that's improvement.

And I can already picture people saying "they'll ruin the wlw romance like they did with Priya" but Jesus Christ and all his Apostles combined, didn't you notice Chino wasn't the one managing it ? That all the mistakes you blame on her are actually Uncoven's creators' mistakes ? That they sabotaged everything (MCL, Elda S2) just because they were so woke and so enlightened ?? Now that they're out of it, I'm pretty sure we'll finally have nice things, and without misandry nor biphobia. I'm hoping an enemies or rivals to lovers with her, just like I hoped one with Yeleen uwu.

Thomas

I WAS RIGHT ABOUT HIM FROM THE START. Ok time to be serious, his design is really nice, the high cheekbones, the milky white skin, he lost his freckles but gained piercing eyes looking directly in your soul and his curls look so nice to ruffle. He has the most guarded pose out of the four and is skinny, which gives us two "no six pack abs" characters (thank Gods beemoov). I don't know if he still plays the guitar, but that could be one of his special interests along a lot of things we need to discover about him.

My guess is that, as we saw him being precocious, he's neuroD and will be the harshest without meaning harm. You ask him something and he answers the raw truth, which could give a very good dynamic depending on the Candy's personality, which could also give us an interesting dynamic when dating or falling in love ? Like not touching but hesitantly grabbing her sleeve between two fingers, or gifts, or stuttering, or all of the above. I just hope he's aloof enough for Candy to have to "run after him" (no harassment involved) just to show him she cares about him, and so he could open up at his own rhythm. A soft slowburn or an abrupt hook up ? I don't know, I hope he surprises me a lot !

[spinoskingdom875]

Sonic: Keep 'em closed, Amy. Amy giggles. Amy: Sonic, whatever do you want to show me? Sonic: You'll see. No peaking, be right back! He speeds off, then returns to Amy. Knuckles and Tails walks up with a big dish. Cream rides on Trikey, as she and Cheese quietly place gift boxes. Cream hops off of Trikey. Sonic grabs a rose, then turns to Amy. Sonic: Okay, open 'em up! Amy uncovers her eyes, and looks right in front of her. Everyone: SURPRISE! Amy was really surprise. Right in front of her, was a 3 tier birthday cake, with a mini figurine of herself. She then looks around her, seeing decorations around the room, and presents surrounding. Her eyes were wide opened. Amy: Oh my. I-I-don't know what to say… This is beautiful.

Cream: Do you like what we did? Amy: I love it! These are wonderful decorations, and the presents, so lovely. But the cake… It looks magnificent! Cream: Thank my mama for her hard work. Amy: I will. It sure looks good. Trikey: It does, I can't wait to eat it… After the birthday girl gets the first slice. Amy smiles. Amy: Thank you, sweetie! Knuckles: Tails and I had to bring it in. Tails: I'm not gonna lie, it was heavy, but at least we were able to bring it in with no problems. Oh, and we hope you enjoy your gifts when you open them. Tears drip from Amy's eyes. Amy: Thank you so much. This is such a wonderful surprise. Sonic: You deserve it, Amy. You've been a great friend to everyone, and a great ally over the years helping us stop Eggman, or any new foes. Tails: Yeah, like returning birdie to his siblings. Knuckles: Helping Shadow realize his true purpose. Cream: And taking Mr. Big and I to find Chocola Chao. Knuckles: You also see the good in some evil, like that robot on the Egg Carrier. You're a great friend to everyone, no matter what. Amy smiled tearfully. Amy: Thank you, everyone. They all hugged as Sonic watches.

Sonic: Well, I'm glad you love the surprise. Although, I have one more thing to give you. He pulls out the rose. Sonic: For you, my sweet rose. Amy blushes, then hugs Sonic tightly. Amy: Oh, thank you, my darling Sonic! This is the best birthday I've ever had in my life! Sonic nearly fell backwards, but Amy held onto him. Sonic: Whoa, easy, Amy! I nearly fell over for a minute there. She continues to hug the blue hedgehog, he smiles while trying to keep his balance. Knuckles laugh. Knuckles: Heh-heh. Young love, huh? Tails: Yep. Cream: Aw, isn't this cute? Trikey: It sure is, it's really romantic! I think they're perfect for each other. Cream: They have been for years. They both giggled, while Amy continues to hug Sonic.

This is the first of 3 renders celebrating 30 years of Amy, Metal Sonic, and Sonic CD. Two more will be uploaded later today. But here's to 30 years of Amy Rose!

NOTE: Don't re-upload my Pictures anywhere without my permission, please. Thank you.

[crazydoodlez]

Please rant about it I am very interested!!!

Alright. Here we go. Buckle your seat belts, this'll be long.

Alright, first, let's start with my oc. His name is Caesar Rombolt. He would have had a normal, uneventful future.

...If Eyes didn't show him all his possible futures.

One of those possible futures was him ruling over the town as it burned down to ash, as he sat on a throne. To Caesar? Paradise. To others? Apocalypse.

So Caesar starts a cult to achieve this future. In most other timelines, he has Parker as a right hand man (@mentallyunstableartist came up with Parker), but the defining thing for this timeline is that Parker isn't here.

So what does Caesar get instead of Parker?

Jewelry to control Eyes of the Universe.

How he comes across this jewelry I'm still figuring out- I'm also debating if it should be a ring or an earring.

With this control, he gains the ability to brainwash cult members. He does so to Bob, increasing his cannibalistic tendencies and making him easier to control.

Enter Jack and John. These two finally get the chance to investigate the house. And what do they do?

Jack trips and falls into the hole in the floor, getting a glimpse of the Eyes in the Stars in the space beneath.

John catches him last minute, hauling him back up, but not before getting his own look.

The two are bombarded with strange flickers in their eyes- images they can't really make out. They feel lightheaded, even a bit dizzy.

And they both have an increasing urge to look again.

The two are able to make it out of the mansion without looking again, but for awhile their dreams and thoughts are plagued with the bright blue cyan light.

This, Friends fellows and countrymen, is our first major Timeline split.

Either John and Jack are able to resist the urges to go back to the mansion, resist the urges to look at the stars again, putting an early stop to the Takeover Caesar has planned...

...Or John gives into the visions, and gets brainwashed by Caesar.

For the next couple of weeks John struggles. He has instructions to convince Jack to go back to the mansion- which will be hard, since both of them agreed not to. Here comes our next huge split.

John either resists the brainwashing last minute, leading to a multitude of other timelines...

...Or John tricks Jack into getting brainwashed too.

You know that one scene from Incredibles 2? Where Elastagirl has those goggles on and is brainwashed or whatever, and Mr.Incredible comes to save her but she tricks him, kisses him, and then slaps the goggles on him?

:)

Picture if you would Jack bursting into the mansion, gun drawn. John flinches, turning around. His eyes are blue.

Jack demands what John is here for. We both promised not to return! Why are you here?

John doesn't give a straight answer, only mentioning something about "The Future." Throughout their convo, Jack continues getting closer, lowering his gun.

And then he's finally close enough to see John's eyes. He panics. "John, we need to leave-" He says.

John cuts him off with a kiss.

Surprised, caught off guard, Jack leans into the kiss.

Caesar grins from the shadows. he snaps his fingers. The mansion rumbles.

John pulls away. Jack blinks at him, confused. "...John? Why'd you...?"

Behind them looms Eyes, casting his Cyan light all over the mansion.

John forces Jack's head up to look at Eyes, turning away. Jack's eyes go wide as he realizes what's happening...

...and soon his eyes turn cyan too.

Even though John tricked Jack, the love behind the kiss was real. Caesar just happened to take advantage of that.

But little did Caesar and John know, that in some timelines Jack had let Patty know what he was doing ahead of time, and set up a signal system- If he pressed a button, that meant that the worst case scenario just played out. With Jack's last bit of free thought, he pressed that button.

The timeline splinters off a bit from there. In timelines with the warning system, Patty can stop the cult herself, rush to save John n Jack and get brainwashed herself, or just fuckin kill caesar. In other timelines, Eyes is able to gain just enough control over his actions to give Jack visions of happy futures, futures where he and John grow old together. futures where they win against Caesar. This gives Jack the arsenal he needs to resist the brainwashing and take the cult down from the inside.

In timelines where John resists the brainwashing last moment, Caesar comes out and stabs John. The timeline splinters off again here.

Caesar can finish off john and then brainwash Jack, leading to an inevitable takeover.

Jack can shoot Caesar in retailiation. This wounds Caesar, but won't kill him if he has the amulet on. This will delay the takeover

After Jack has shot Caesar, John can shoot Caesar's amulet with his dying breath. This stops the takeover and kills Caesar, though this leads to some Depressed Jack timelines.

In good ending timelines (aka no immediate takeover), there's a possibility John is just put into a coma instead of dying, and a possibility of amnesia from those timelines

So... Yeah! That's the Stars timeline! (Once again not to be confused with the Starry Eyes comic...) THis was actually inspired by a rp in the SM RP game on roblox! It was pretty fun!

Let me know if you have any more questions about the timeline! ^^

[batstorm93672]

Let It Be Over Already

Word of warning other than just tagging it.

This story contains heavy amount of depression, ptsd, panic attack and attempting suicide is explicitly stated. If this triggers you, then I beg that you do not read it for your mental wellbeing is worth more than a story.

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It's been months since anyone has seen Damian Wayne. No one knows where he has gone, the last person he visited was Dick and Kory. Titus was left with the two adults as well. Titus had been less excited about things without Damian.

Alfred's death took a hard toll on Damian's life. He often did disappear from his siblings for awhile, but never this long and without Titus as well...

~

Siblings Group Chat

Dick: Has anyone received any news on Damian or Robin sightings?

Jason: No. I haven't heard or seen a thing on him

Stephanie: Where could he have gone?

Tim: It's like he disappeared

Barbara: I've been trying to trace his phone, nothing

Dick: What worries me is that he also didn't take Titus... then that night he was with me when I found him in the guest room. He tore it up, pillows were literally ripped apart and everything was a mess. Then I found these drawings

[Three pictures of Alfred sitting on a chair tied up as Robin, Bane or merely a shadow is behind him. Alfred's neck is snapped and he's clearly dead]

Cassandra: :(

Tim: Holy shit

Stephanie: I feel like I might be sick

Dick: He was sobbing horribly... then he spoke of how he just wants to give up at times. His mental health is dropping and the fact that he's missing is worse

~

Jason clicked off his phone, walking down the streets of Gotham, the sun was still shining down. "...where are you kid?"

By the time night rolled around, Jason made it to his apartment and took off his hoodie. The window... was slightly ajar. He locked it last he left, maybe he left it open a bit? Or... a hopeful twinge of a possibility that the one person who would enter through there and probably insult him for how easy it was to unlock it.

"Damian? Are you here?"

It was silent.

Jason sighed and lied on his bed "No... no you aren't"

.

"No..!"

He had struggled in vain, crying as his grandfather's neck snapped. Failing to save him. Failing to be good enough.

Failing to save a man he loved with all his heart.

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Damian leaped up from the small makeshift bed. Looking around for his Great Dane to help, only to be met with the darkness. That's right... he left Titus with Richard and Kory. He can't let his canine see what he's done to himself, what he's been having weighed on his mind. Sometimes he really does want it to be over. Knowing that he can't do it anymore... it hurts so bad, but he can't really bring himself to have this dealt with. A coward. He wouldn't even be here, had he just stay put and not endanger Pennyworth then everything would be okay! Then he would be back and everything would be perfect! But it's not... and it won't be for a long time.

Damian got up off the floor this safehouse was completely abandoned. He had to make due with old blankets. Damian grabbed his uniform and put it on...

Robin swung until he overlooked the city, the sky was dark. Landing at the very top to see it all, it could end here and it would be okay... he'd go back to Hell, but he deserves it doesn't he. To go back to where he belongs, back where his sins torment every waking moment he lingers.

The very top of the building, falling would be a horrible plummet down to meet the ground. It doesn't seem so bad... does it?

Why is his heart racing like this?

Why is he scared?

Why can't he move forward?

Pennyworth is gone.

There's nothing else here, no one else.

Just go!

Go!

GO!

JUST GO AND GET IT OVER WITH IT WILL ALL BE OVER IF YOU DO IT! THE PAIN! THE SUFFERING WILL END!

IT WILL END!

FINALLY IT WILL BE OVER!

LET IT BE OVER!

END THIS!

HE'S GONE AND IT'S YOUR FAULT!

YOU FAILURE!

GO!

DO WHAT MUST BE DONE!

"NO!"

Robin moved away from the edge, panicking as he covered his mouth. "No no no no no I'm scared I can't do it! I can't! Why am I so scared..? What is wrong with me?!" Robin's hands shook as he grabbed his phone. Clicking onto a contact he could barely see through his tears. Putting it up to his ear when he heard ringing.

"Holy shit, Damian is that you!? Where have you been, we've been looking all over for you!"

"A-a-a-- a-akhi... akhi... I can't do it, I'm scared..!"

"Damian, slow down. Tell me where you are"

"G-Grand... Grand Avenue Station at the top..."

"Hang tight. Do you want me to st--"

Robin hung up, it was already bad that he called. Now he had to be rescued like a child in distress, he can't do this.

"Stop it stop it stop it, let it end already. Let me go! Let it be over already! Please let it be over! I-I can't do this... I don't want to be alone, but I don't want to be with anyone either. I want it to be over, let it be over for once"

"Damian"

Robin looked up, Red Hood stood above him only his mask was on and he was sweating. "Damian! Hey, hey, hey. It's me, it's okay. What happened, you can tell me" "I-I want it to be over... but I don't want to die, I just want it to be done for once" "What do you mean? What did you try to do?"

"I wanted to go... I wanted to go I thought it would be over if I just go. I tried, but I'm a coward I can't even take my life. I can't do it. It's my fault, I want the suffering to end I'm scared. I'm so scared"

Red Hood looked absolutely destroyed, he didn't say a word and honestly he couldn't bring himself to speak. Damian's mental state was dropping, but to think so quickly he would turn to... to... fuck.

Red Hood hugged him tight, Robin sobbed making no attempt to move or hug Hood back.

"I'm scared, I want it to be over! Please let it be over... let it be over already. Let this not be real I can't do this without him. I miss my grandfather, I miss Alfred. I want to die, I want to die already. Don't bring me back from the dead, don't let me stay dead. Don't stay, don't go" Robin was rambling random things, most of his words contradicted the other.

"Ssshhhhh easy now. I'm here. I'm here for you. Let's go"

~

Jason: I found him

Dick: Where?

Tim: Is he okay?

Jason: Shit this is gonna be hard to say and even worse to hear

Stephanie: Just say it

Cassandra: ?

Duke: Is he at least safe?

Jason: He tried to kill himself. He called me saying that he can't do it and that he's scared. Then I found him on Grand Avenue Station

Barbara: Oh my god

Duke: Did you stop him?

Jason: Yeah, he seemed to be in shock and stopped himself

Tim: Where are you?

Jason: Home, I brought him with me, he's sleeping rn

Cassandra: Dick?

Duke: Hey man you okay? You haven't texted

Jason: Dick he's okay now, I got him

Stephanie: We can go visit him

Barbara: Dick please say something?

~

Dick was wheezing with every breath, he dropped his phone and couldn't keep himself from trembling.

Damian almost...

Oh God!

Why?!

Why didn't I stop him from leaving?!

Should I have forced him to stay with us?

Why didn't I see this before?

"Dick, you must remain calm. Tell me what is happening my love"

"K-Kory?"

"Yes. It's me"

"Damian, he tried to kill himself. Jason found him"

"Okay, okay. Look at me, focus on what you just said after. Jason found Damian, Damian is okay, Damian is safe. Can you repeat those three things?"

"Jason found Damian, Damian is okay, Damian is safe"

"Yes, say it as many times as you must"

"Jason found Damian, Damian is okay, Damian is safe. Jason found Damian, Damian is okay, Damian is safe. Jason found Damian, Damian is okay, Damian is safe"

Dick's breathing lessened in volume, he closed his eyes then opened them to look at Kory. "Yeah... I get it, thank you Kor. I just started to drive myself crazy there, thinking on what I could've done better to protect him. But it's not just me. Damian has more than one person by his side"

"Exactly, so let's go to sleep. Tomorrow you can go see him and bring Titus along"

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It was silent when Damian woke up, he could feel where the tears once were. He had messed up.

Did he mess up by calling Jason? Or did he mess up by not doing what he told himself to do? Damian doesn't know which part he messed up.

Regardless, Damian looked around, Jason was still sleeping by him. Damian hated himself, Jason wouldn't be taking care of him had he just fell off. No one would be worried if he just did that.

Coward, can't even do a single thing.

You've taken many lives, what's stopping you from taking your own?

Damian held himself, it just felt so awful, everything was a mess and it was his fault. Everytime Damian closes his eyes he can see how the thunder and lighting cast shadows over the people. The person who took his life always changed while the one person in that chair took his last breath and stayed the same. Same story. Same ending.

The snap of a neck.

The screaming and crying.

Then the Butler with his head limp to the side.

It all ended and began the same way.

He had snapped his neck. Bane had snapped his neck. The darkness had snapped his neck. Regardless of who was behind it, it's the result of who fell at the hands that hurts Damian the most.

"Hey, it's okay. It's akhi, I'm here for you"

When did Damian start crying again? When did Jason wake up to see this mess? More importantly, how long has Jason been hugging Damian?

"It won't end... i-it won't stop... make it stop. The nightmares, the thunder, the lightning, the bones, the screams. Make it stop... please make it stop I can't handle it"

"I know, I know. It hurts I know it does, but it will pass. You can't let it consume you"

"Why did you answer? If I hadn't been so cowardly then I could've done it and let you been in peace. Why didn't you hang up? Why did you let me talk?"

"Cause I care too much habibi, I couldn't let you go. I love you"

"...don't leave me"

"I won't"

"Don't go... don't leave me alone again"

"I won't let you be alone"

"Stay... please stay longer"

"Heh well this is my house, jokes aside, I'm staying Dami"

Then a knock brought the two back from their hug. Jason stood up while smiling at Damian "I'm not leaving, I promise. I'm just going to answer the door" "Tt. I know that" Even though he says that, a huge part of him was glad to hear that Jason wasn't going to leave.

Jason opened the door after looking through the peephole.

Damian was knocked to the floor and was slobbery.

"Titus?" The Dane barked and his tail wagged "I'm so sorry Titus, I love you so much I'm sorry I left you! I was scared. Please forgive me!" Titus sat down as Damian hugged his pet. Inhaling the warmth and smell of Titus's fur.

Damian smiled a bit as he moved Titus away, seeing who brought him... Dick was standing at the doorway, he looked at a loss. Damian's smile fell and he looked guilty.

"Richard... I'm... I didn't-"

Dick tackled Damian in a hug and Dick's sobs came out like exhales of relief and laughter. Damian somehow had a river of tears hiding even after losing so many tears before.

"I-- I'm sorry Richard, I'm so sorry I left. I'm sorry I tried to- I don't know what happened to me! Nothing felt good anymore, I'm a mess. I couldn't handle it, I'm sorry"

"Damian! I was so worried! I-I was so scared!"

"You... you aren't mad?"

"No, why would I be mad? I'm overjoyed to see you here and I love you so much I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, I noticed the changes but didn't do a thing"

"Don't blame yourself... you tried to get me to stay. I'm the one who left"

"I'm so glad to see you"

"Me too"