#alternatively: why does my head keep telling me I am doing creativity wrong when. in fact. I find the same things GREAT when other people d

[skibasyndrome]

anyone else ever feel like a bit of a fraud for their creative creations?

[ambiguous-avery]

Chasing Shadows, Part 6

Dean Winchester x OC fem!Touched!Reader/You | WC: 7972

Summary: She’s never been afraid of the dark, not really. She’s more concerned about getting lost in it. He’s haunted by every dark deed he’s ever done. It’s constantly nipping at his heels like a hell hound. He’s her light in the dark, and she’s the one bit of darkness he’s willing to embrace.

Tags/Warnings: No use of Y/N, canon-typical violence, eventual romance,  eventual smut,  fluff and angst, POV alternating (sometimes a little all over the place), no beta we die like men

Disclaimer: The base concept of Touched comes from @aylacavebear and is used with permission. I’ve taken creative liberties with it. Maria is her character, also used with permission!

A/N: @aylacavebear, please trust my process on this! I wouldn’t do Maria wrong! Also, apologies for the delay on this! The words just were not wanting to word, and I am finding that I am hitting a weak spot in my writing skills as I try to transition into other things. So if this feels choppy and rushed, I apologize. I’m likely going to move to uploading chapters every other week. Chasing Shadows Series Masterlist

As you reached out to take your necklace in hand, you hesitated. Dean hadn’t been lying – not that you had thought he was – about your necklace glowing. There dangling in his hand, the pendant gave off a gentle radiance, its soft light barely perceptible against the backdrop of the lit room. Dean was looking at it too, but his gaze flicked back to you. You dropped your hand and instead motioned for him to take several steps back towards the opposite side of the room. He complied, and as expected, the necklace’s glow diminished in response to your proximity. 

“Tell me. When you hold it, the actual pendant part, do you feel anything?” you asked.

“What do you mean?” he replied, his brow arching in mild confusion.

“I mean… does it feel warm? Does it almost hum with energy?”

“Uh… yeah, it’s done both,” Dean admitted, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Curious.

Intrigued, you continued.

“I know it’s late, but will you let me try something real quick? I ended up here when I saw it glowing while I was in the Void. Keep an eye on it?” Slipping back into the shadows, you kept your eye on the necklace. Just like before before, the light-blue glow pulsed gently in a rhythmic fashion. You could still see the flashing lights of your keys in your own room, and you made a quick trip over to them, pausing briefly before returning to the softly pulsating light that had come to feel strangely connected to Dean. As you Stepped out from the shadows, Dean hadn’t moved from where he was standing. 

“Did you… go somewhere?” he asked slowly, his eyes flickering with apprehension.

“What makes you ask that?”

“The glow went away for a bit before it returned, and then you were here.”

“I did. Look, Dean… I’ve had this for the entire time I’ve been here, and nothing bad has happened with it. I know I don’t know a lot about the things you and Sam have seen, but this doesn’t feel dangerous. And if I can see it in the Void, that means that it can be a beacon for me.”

“Alright, I’ll trust you on this.” Dean said, extending the necklace to you. You shook your head and pushed his hand back to him.

“You should keep it,” you insisted.

“Why?”

“Because if it’s connected to me somehow, and I can see it in the Void, then it doesn’t make sense for me to keep it on me. Doesn’t help me in that case. Besides, maybe it’ll help if I’m in trouble,” you explained. Then, taking a breath, you added, “Anyway, I’ll let you go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you up so late.”

“Hey,” Dean caught your wrist as you took a step towards the door. Then, as if he thought better, he quickly released you. You stopped regardless. “You don’t have to go,” he murmured softly, his voice low and unexpectedly vulnerable. “If you don’t want,” he added hastily. “Nothing has to happen. Just…” his voice trailed off. You turned back to face Dean, the weight of his half-spoken invitation settling over you. Your ability to read between the lines may have been the cause of many a night spent overthinking Dean’s words and actions, but even though he didn’t say it out loud, you weren’t second guessing what he was trying to say right now. Between his admission of not being able to handle losing you and now his offer for you not to leave, it was safe to say that all the little signs you picked up on over the days might not have been as meaningless as you initially thought. Your eyes found his, searching for a sign, a promise. His gaze flickered with uncertainty, but somewhere deeper, you thought you might have seen a glimmer of hope that mirrored your own longing. Whoever said that eyes were a window into someone’s soul was onto something. The pull towards Dean grew stronger, and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and never leave.

"I’d love to stay," you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Like it was a fragile secret you were afraid to let him see. Dean's gaze softened, relief crossing his features before he masked it with the false bravado he wore like armor. He flashed you a grin, bright and mischievous, and god what you wouldn’t give to see that smile directed your way every single day. 

“I have something to show you,” he said suddenly, the energy in his voice shifting to something more akin to a child in a candy store. With a burst of enthusiasm, he clambered over the bed to his bedside table and pulled open the drawer. A jingling sound met your ears as Dean tugged the Impala’s keys out. You blinked a couple times as he held them up, looking like a proud cat who dragged in a kill.

“Is that-” you began, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah it is.” He interrupted, excitement in his voice as he pressed a button attached to the keys. Instantly, it lit up, casting a kaleidoscope of colors dancing across the walls. “I found it when we were on a hunt.”

Warmth and affection blossomed within you. You had a feeling that Dean’s vulnerability and openness were rare treasures in and of themselves, but this? This was more than you could’ve imagined. You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his midsection and resting your head against his chest.

“That is amazing, Dean,” you murmured, voice filled with emotion that you couldn’t put into words. “Thank you.” Dean’s arms came around you in a warm embrace, his touch both protective and tender. It felt like a silent promise, unspoken words weaving between you.

As you leaned back slightly to look up at him, Dean’s gaze met yours with an intensity that stole your breath away. In that unguarded moment, you saw something shift in Dean’s eyes, and the energy between you moved with it. While there had been no physical change, Dean suddenly filled the entire room with the physicality of his presence. 

“I…” his voice was rough and low, rumbling through you. “I’m glad you’re here,” he finally said, dipping his head and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss was a revelation, a spark of emotions that ignited within you like a wildfire. Dean’s lips were soft yet firm against yours, a gentle pressure that held so much more than just physical contact. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as every unspoken word and lingering touch finally found their voice in the meeting of your lips. You might have been a song, but Dean was a symphony. Where you were a piece of art, Dean was a masterpiece. Kissing Dean was everything you could’ve imagined and nothing like you expected all at the same time. There was a tenderness in Dean’s kiss that spoke volumes, as if he was pouring all his hopes and fears into this one simple gesture, seeking solace in the warmth of your embrace.

You could’ve lost yourself entirely in him in that single gesture. But all too soon, Dean pulled back. He reached up to press his hand to your cheek, his touch soft but still hesitant.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” he started, but you cut him off with a smile and a shake of your head.

“Don’t be,” you replied, your tone gentle and reassuring. “I’m not.” A weight seemed to lift from Dean’s shoulders at your words, and whatever concern he had left melted away from his features. There was an awkward beat between the two of you before Dean cleared his throat and stepped back, offering his hand.

“Nothing weird, I promise. Just… don’t leave tonight.” You took his hand without hesitation. He gently pulled you back towards the bed, and as you settled on it with him, it felt like coming home. Like finding a missing piece of yourself that you never knew was gone in the first place. He slid behind you, and you found yourself wrapped in his arms again. There was an inexplicable sense of peace and contentment in the simple act of being near him, of feeling his heartbeat steady against you. Everything seemed to fall into the right place. Wordlessly, he reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, enveloping the room in a cocoon of darkness. In the quiet intimacy of the night, Dean’s hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise.

Dean found himself in a strange sort of dance with you where neither of you knew the steps or what the other person was going to do. In your defense, you were doing a pretty damn good job of making it up as you went along and pretending that that’s how it was supposed to be done. He was only marginally capable of the same. After that first night you had spent in his bed, Dean was no longer content with sleeping in his room alone. He had had a taste of what could’ve been, and he was too weak to let it go. Not when it was right there, so close. So he had asked night after night. Because once he had started, he couldn’t stop. It was a silent request, a simple gesture of leaving his door cracked at night rather than closing it completely. And each night you knocked, even when he told you that you didn’t have to. It was simple and innocent, never anything more than cuddles and company. 

It felt so easy, so natural, so right. In the night with you in his arms, body slotting right beside his, everything was so clear and easy. His mind went quiet when he held you, like your presence alone could silence all the worries and fears he had. The nightmares finally let him get some rest when you were around, as though you personally kept them at bay. As though the night and shadows were your domain and you got to decide what did and didn’t make it through. And when he couldn’t sleep, he would spend the hours laying there, counting the minutes until he knew your phone alarm would go off for your morning run with Sam. Every morning, he would bite his tongue, refraining from asking for any more. And when he would wake up after you left, alone in his bed, he would stare up at the ceiling, swearing and cursing himself for it all. Because for some reason, the two of you only made sense in the night. When the world was asleep. When there was no one else to witness just how weak Dean felt. But when the sun came up, he’d push you away again, keeping you at an arm’s length away lest you get too close. He was teetering precariously close to the sort of feelings he had felt for Cassie and Lisa, and one wrong move was going to send him right over the edge. It was a dangerous game he was playing, but Dean was used to danger. 

 It was his own fault, and he knew it. 

He had fucked up. 

You showing up in his room, his space had broken down a wall he had tried so carefully to keep in place precisely for these reasons. While he might not have ever fully given up on the idea of finding someone, he never let those hopes soar too high. He had come crashing down to reality far too many times to let himself believe he could have something good like that long-term. So he convinced himself that hook-ups and flings would be enough even when he knew they never were. The last person he had let get close to him was a literal angel, and while Dean knew that there were ways to hurt an angel, there was some solace in the fact that angels were more durable than humans. It would take more than a regular ol’ knife or vamp or ghost or demon to take Cas out. 

And he supposed something similar could be said for you. 

Dean hadn’t checked in much on your research. It wasn’t so much that he wasn’t interested, but it wasn’t a great thought for him to check in on how close to leaving you might have been. He still didn’t know what your plans were after you had your answer. You hadn’t made any mention of them, and he was honestly too scared to ask. Too scared to hear the definitive answer that there was going to be a time when you would depart. He and Sam had had talks and spent several nights theorizing on possibilities, but without any solid answers, they weren’t getting anywhere.

It honestly surprised him how you seemed to roll with it all. If the roles were reversed, he probably would’ve gone mad with the back and forth. With the closeness one moment then pulling away the next. Maybe you were just really good at hiding it. Or maybe you were genuinely okay with it. Dean decided he was going to believe the latter. During the day, things felt normal, like nothing had changed. Although, Dean noticed that you spent significantly less time in the library, instead opting to spend more of your time with him. He wasn’t complaining. He would happily take any scrap of attention you wanted to give him. Grocery runs were no longer a simple escape from the bunker. They were precious moments that Dean got to spend with you in the Impala.  In the daylight. And you just fit so damn well in the passenger side of the bench. Like that’s where you belonged. When you had admitted to him that you hadn’t watched the Western he had lent you, he had practically dragged you to the Dean Cave and plopped you down in one of the recliners and spent the better portion of the day binging through several movies back to back.

But he was always careful to keep his hands to himself. He kept the lingering touches to a minimum. Didn’t dare to hug you. Didn’t let himself break that physical barrier. Not during the day time. It was a silly thing, if he were being honest with himself. If Sam knew – Dean wouldn’t be surprised if Sam already knew – he’d likely call Dean childish. 

“What difference does it make whether it’s day or night? Eight hours in bed next to someone is still eight hours whether the sun is up or not,” Sam would likely say. And Dean wouldn’t have an excuse for that. Wouldn’t have an explanation for why it felt different. Wouldn’t have to try and explain his flimsy reasoning that the cover of night somehow made it less real. As if the darkness made it a secret that only you and him shared. 

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, looking at himself in the mirror. He felt raw and exposed, like he had come undone at the seams and the thing staring back at him was some hollow facsimile of himself. Your gentle knock at his door made him jump slightly, and he glanced down at his hand on the sink that had your necklace string wrapped around it. He had missed the glow that signalled your presence. Dean quickly tossed it into his bedside table drawer before pulling open his door, reigning in all of his brooding thoughts and tucking them away until the daylight hours. He flashed you a smile, softer than his usual one. 

“You know you don’t have to knock sweetheart.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to accidentally walk in on you changing,” you reasoned, and Dean had to bite back a suggestive comment. If it were a few hours earlier, then an offhand ‘would that really be such a bad thing?’ would’ve been fine. Would’ve felt like safe territory. But now, as you made yourself comfortable on your side of his bed, it felt like it would’ve been too dangerous. Too loaded. Too close to the fire that was slowly eating away at his resolve.

He’d love to have you. And you were giving all the signs that you would feel the same. He knew he could make it good for you. He envisioned himself taking his time to memorize every contour of your body, tracing his fingers gently across your skin only to follow the same path again with his lips. He’d engrave every detail of you into his memory, pay attention to every sigh and gasp and moan until he knew what each one meant by heart. How would you taste? How would you feel wrapped arou–

He needed to stop. 

Normally, it was easy for him to separate sex and intimacy. Sex was sex, and intimacy was something... more. Something he didn’t – couldn’t – face. It was easy when he was on the road. Easy to show a gal a good time then be gone the next day. But with you, he knew it would be different. Even with his walls up, you managed to slip through the cracks effortlessly. Like a shadow. Dean knew he was walking a dangerously thin line, straddling the boundary between friendship and something more. And every day that passed only blurred it further. He felt powerless to stop it. He didn’t want to stop it, an annoying little voice in the back of his head reminded him.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind. He could think about them later, when the sun was up and exposed all of his thoughts to the harsh light of reality. Right now though, it was dark outside. And he could lie to himself and say that it made all the difference in the world. He joined you on the bed, and when he rolled onto his side, arm up in a silent invitation, you sidled up right next to him. He didn’t know how much longer he would have this, but he would be sure to cherish every moment. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his. Dean buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent as he held you tight. The rhythm of your breathing matched his own, soothing him in a way nothing else could. It was moments like these that made him forget about the looming uncertainty of your departure, the fear of getting too close and losing it all. In the safety of the night he could allow himself to indulge in the fantasy that this could last forever. That maybe, just maybe, he deserved a chance at something real and lasting.

You could find solace in the few stolen moments of intimacy that the cover of night seemed to provide. When you were in his arms, feeling the entirety of Dean enveloping you, you could almost forget about the weird limbo you found yourself in. Almost. Reality had a cruel way of seeping in, though, especially in the light of day. Your research had hit another dead end, mirroring the stagnation in your dynamic with Dean. The constant push and pull, the mixed signals, the uncertainty of where you stood with Dean. It was all quickly becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t keep tiptoeing around your feelings for him, pretending that you were fine with everything because you clearly weren’t.

“Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart?” Dean asked on a return trip from a nearby diner. You frowned at him. Of course he’d ask that when he had the safety of Sam sitting in the passenger seat. Was that on purpose? Using Sam as a sort of buffer so you didn’t pepper him with the questions you really wanted to ask? What was... this? Whatever you had with Dean. The will he, won’t he sort of thing was childish, and you were sure that the both of you should’ve grown out of that sort of stuff. But Sam was there, and you didn’t want to trap him in a more awkward situation than it likely already was. So you asked something else instead.

“You said you have a friend who’s an angel, right?” Dean looked at you in the rearview mirror, and you saw his brow crease.

“Yeah, why?” His tone was slow and cautious, as though it was a trick question of sorts. You chose to ignore it. If he could pretend nothing was wrong, then you could too.

“Can we... call them? Pray to them? I don’t know how you’d go about summoning an angel. But I think I’m done searching. I just want my answer. I’m done with the scavenger hunt.” Not a complete lie. But you couldn’t tell him that you were actually done with the back and forth. That could wait until night. You couldn’t get a read on Dean’s full expression in the rearview mirror. The most you could see was his forehead and eyes, and both were set with the same grim determination you remembered him wearing when he was masquerading as an FBI agent in your home. To your chagrin, you still had only learned to decipher a few of Dean’s expressions, and this wasn’t one of them.

“Dean’s probably the best one to call for him,” Sam said with an offhanded shrug. 

“We’ll see if he answers. He’s usually got heavenly shit going on,” the tone in Dean’s voice was unexpectedly bitter. 

You sat back against the seat, feeling the tension in the car rise with each passing mile. Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenched as if he were holding back something more he wanted to say. 

“Who knows, maybe he’s got a free spot to pencil us in,” Sam offered optimistically. You didn’t doubt that he had picked up on the weight of the unspoken words in the car, but he clearly had the wherewithal to find ways around it. You appreciated it, although it did little to ease the knot that had formed in your stomach. The Impala rumbled steadily beneath you, the engine a soothing hum that felt familiar.

“Yeah, maybe,” you muttered.

When you had imagined an angel, this wasn’t what you had pictured. The ‘angel’ title usually drew up mental images of an amorphous creature with numerous wings and eyes. Or little cherubs with wings and bows. Not a world-weary looking man in a tie and a trenchcoat. You blinked, seated in the library with Sam, Dean, and the angel named Castiel standing around you. Castiel adjusted his tie and cleared his throat, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. You shifted slightly, Castiel’s gaze feeling far heavier than it should’ve been. He took a step closer to you.

He had been waiting in the bunker when the three of you had arrived, and Sam had taken lead on explaining the situation and everything that had led up to the current time. Thankfully, he made it sound much more put together than you probably would’ve. Castiel listened intently, his expression impassive as Sam gave him the rundown.

“May I?” Castiel inquired, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room. You nodded, watching as he raised his hand toward you. As his index and middle fingers neared your forehead, a peculiar sensation swept over you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, not as a sign of alarm, but more akin to the tingling prick of static electricity. The moment his skin touched yours, a powerful jolt surged through you, zipping down your spine like a crackling bolt of lightning, compelling you to sit bolt upright in your chair. Castiel must have experienced something similar because he swiftly withdrew his hand, glancing in bewilderment between his fingers and your face.

“What was that?” Dean’s voice cut through the tension, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“I’m... not entirely sure,” Castiel replied, his words deliberate and slow, as if he were piecing together a puzzle.

“Are you two okay?” Sam asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he looked back and forth between you and Castiel.

“Yeah, I think so.” You quickly assessed yourself, running a mental check for anything amiss. It felt more like a particularly intense static shock than anything else.

“Well? What’s the verdict?” Dean asked, his gaze fixed intently on Cas.

“There’s… something inside her,” Cas replied, a hint of uncertainty lacing his voice.

“You mean, like a demon?” Dean pressed, his brow furrowing.

“No, not like a possession,” Cas clarified, struggling to find the right words. “It’s difficult to articulate, but it resembles Grace.”

“You mean like an angel’s?” Sam cut in, his curiosity piqued.

“No, it’s different,” Cas explained, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. “An angel’s Grace is pure, radiant, and unwavering. It’s a divine gift from God, a beacon of celestial light that reflects its holy origin. But whatever she possesses? It’s more akin to a swirling, dark fog, something inherently chaotic. It shrouds everything, preventing me from getting too close. Even fallen angels retain a flicker of light within them. But this presence is distinctly divine, though I can’t identify its source. It doesn’t belong to God.”

“It’s not God’s,” Sam repeated. You could see the wheels turning in his mind as he rifled through his mental catalogue of supernatural creatures. Dean leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Was that... contempt?

“So what are we dealing with here?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Castiel shook his head slowly, his expression troubled. 

“I can’t say for certain. It’s unlike anything I’ve encountered before.” An angel hadn’t even encountered someone like you before? You were beginning to feel a little less defeated about not finding anything in your book search. Sam’s gaze flickered between all of you, a sense of unease settling over the room. 

“Could it be dangerous?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel admitted. “But we should proceed with caution.”

As the weight of Castiel’s words hung heavy in the air, you couldn’t shake the feeling of something stirring within you. It was a presence you had always felt but never understood, a force that now seemed to be awakening with a newfound intensity.

“Could… could it be something that belongs to… a different god?” You asked slowly, voicing a theory you had slowly been piecing together. 

“What do you mean by ‘different god’?” Cas’s tone sounded genuinely confused, and you briefly wondered if you were about to be struck down for even suggesting the possibility of other divinity in the presence of a messenger of God.

“You know… like other pantheons? From various different mythologies? Like the Greek or Egyptian gods and goddesses.”

“I am unfamiliar with them.”

“You said something about Grace. How it’s a gift from God? Could it be something like that but from another god?” The term ‘Touched’ hovered on the tip of your tongue, but you figured it would likely be another foreign term for the angel.

Sam seemed to be following your train of thought, though.

“You might be onto something. If you have a different kind of divinity, then it would stand to reason that it would be incompatible with Cas’s.” When you and Castiel flashed Sam a confused look, he continued. “Think like two magnets, except instead of attracting each other, they repel. Because it’s the same polarity.”

“How can it be divine if it’s dark and twisted?” Dean’s harsh tone drew your attention. He was scowling, arms crossed, hip cocked, and shoulders tense. He wouldn’t meet your gaze. Why wouldn’t he look at you? Your frustration from earlier returned with a vengeance, and you’re confident that you could’ve strangled Dean without feeling guilty.

“I’m not entirely sure. But whatever it is, it gives us another avenue to explore. We’ll figure this out,” Sam said, settling a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You had the distinct feeling he could read your thoughts, and the hand on your shoulder was as much for Dean’s benefit as your own. You looked away from Dean. Leave it to an angel to pose more questions than answers.

After Castiel's visit and the revelations that followed, everything changed. Dean, who was once a familiar fixture in all his usual spots within the bunker, now seemed to vanish into thin air whenever you sought him out. His door, which you had grown accustomed to finding slightly ajar as an unspoken invitation over the past few days, now stood firmly closed, an impenetrable barrier from that night onward. Your gentle knocks echoed in the hallway without a response, even when you could hear the faint rustling of movement within his room. It was as if an invisible wall had risen between you. Your bed felt emptier, the sheets colder than you remembered. Or perhaps it was simply that you had become accustomed to the comforting heat of Dean's presence beside you, a warmth that now seemed irretrievably lost.

In an effort to escape the solitude that seemed to amplify your thoughts, you gravitated towards spending more time with Sam. Your morning runs with him stretched longer and longer, turning into extended escapes from the confines of the bunker. The rhythmic pounding of your feet against the earth and the rush of wind in your ears became a soothing balm for your troubled mind. Yet, no matter how far you ran, the inevitable return to the bunker always awaited, drawing you back into its silent, echoing corridors.

Sam, ever observant, noticed the change in you. The way your eyes would sometimes drift into the distance and the worried furrow that had taken up residence on your forehead. When he would ask, you’d shrug it off, blaming it on Castiel’s lack of a solid answer. You were sure he didn’t believe you, but he didn’t push the subject. It felt weird to talk about his brother to him. He had to deal with Dean’s antics for far longer than you. Who were you to complain about them to him? Besides, how did you tell him that Dean’s words and actions caused self doubt to take root and fester in you? 

How could it be divine if it’s dark and twisted? 

They stung more than you had expected them to. The darkness had never been a scary thing for you. It had always felt safe and comfortable, like a second home of sorts. Hell, you were capable of traversing through the shadows themselves. But maybe you were biased. A fish didn’t fear the water because that’s where it belonged. Surely a creature of the night would have no reason to fear it either. Is that what that made you? Is that what you had been reduced to? 

“Did I do something wrong, Sam?” You asked quietly, finally giving a voice to your feelings. You were sitting with him in the library, books spread all around you open to various different pages. Without time with Dean to waste the day away with, you had thrown yourself back into research, taking on Sam’s approach and opting to dig through the journals of other hunters who had passed through here. Sam looked up from the notebook he was writing in. When he didn’t respond right away, you looked at him, finding concern etched across his face. 

“Not at all,” he assured you, setting the pencil down. “Dean can be...” Sam paused, searching for the right words. “He can get defensive when he’s worried. And it isn’t about you. It’s about not knowing how to deal with the unknown when it’s so close to him. And this,” he made a vague gesture that you interpreted to reference the current situation, “is definitely unknown territory for us.”

“Does he hate me?”

He set down the pencil he was holding and stood from his seat, crossing the short distance between you two.

“I guarantee that if he hated you, you’d know.” His words were simultaneously reassuring and not. Would you know if Dean hated you? On one hand, you were sure that if he hated you, he likely would’ve just put a bullet through you. Or maybe use one of those dangerous looking blades mounted on his wall in your sleep. Surely being beheaded would be enough to supersede your healing capability. And if he hated you, then why would he ask you not to leave? Why would he say those things about not wanting to lose you? Why would he keep letting you into his room night after night? It didn’t make sense. Dean didn’t make sense. And you would likely go mad long before you understood whatever went on in his head. 

“Thanks, Sam,” you muttered, looking up at him and offering him a half smile. 

“It’ll be okay, I promise.” You could still see the worry written on his face, but he let the subject drop. You were thankful for it. “I’m gonna go find something to snack on. You want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”

You flipped through the worn pages of the journal, skimming over the words and only half paying attention. The handwriting wasn’t awful, and for once you didn’t struggle to try and make out every other word as you read. The date of the first journal entry was all the way back from March of 1964, but the pages had been protected by a worn leather cover. They were yellowed with time, and the ink had faded in some spots. As you reached an entry from August of 1965, your interest was piqued.

I met the love of my life today. Another hunter named Maria. We both ended up in the same small town hunting down a cursed artifact that seems like it might be Egyptian in origin. We agreed to work the case together. I’ve never met another hunter like her. She’s gorgeous and funny and seems to know a lot more about hunting than I do. I should see what I can learn from her.

A smile tugged at your lips, both from the words on the page but also at the idea of a sweet love story. You needed something sweet and cute at that moment. If you couldn’t have it, then at least you could live vicariously through someone else. The life of a hunter didn’t seem like one that was very conducive to finding a life partner and settling down. Before the bunker, it sounded like Sam and Dean were on the road for the entirety of their lives. The bunker was the first time they had ever settled in one place. You turned the page, skimming the entries for more talk of ‘Maria.’

Sept. 4, 1965 The case with Maria took longer than I had expected. I’m not complaining about that though. We hit several snags that hindered us, but Maria was paramount in the case. She talks to people differently, and they seem to trust her right away. Maybe they’re as enamored by her as I am. It was nice not having to strongarm my way through things for once. I asked Maria if she was looking for a hunting partner. She told me she works alone and left no room for argument in that. However, she left me a phone number in case I needed her help in the future. I think she took a part of me with her when she drove off. 

Jan 13, 1966 God must be smiling on me today. I found Maria. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t looking for her, but how could I not when I haven’t felt whole since she left? Another case, another town. Maria was already three steps ahead of me. But she remembered me. Be still my beating heart. We’re going to work this case together, and I don’t care what I have to do; I can’t let her leave again.

Jan. 15, 1966 Maria and I are officially hunting partners. I think there’s much more to her than she’s letting on, though. Everyone has their secrets. It comes with the job. But she’s more reclusive than I expected. I try not to think about it too much. She’s so much more experienced of a hunter than I am. I don’t know where she learned it all. She can’t be much older than me, but it seems like she has years and years of experience.

The following few entries were relatively uneventful. The writer documented a few cases that they and Maria worked on. You skipped forward a few pages. Each of the cases seemed to be ‘routine’ with no real mentions of other hiccups. However, it was clear that the author of the journal was head over heels for Maria. If the entry wasn’t about a case or a supernatural creature, it was about her. About her beauty or her intelligence or the way the writer’s heart would race when she smiled at them. It was bittersweet the way it made your heart ache. What you wouldn’t give for someone to write about you the way this author wrote about Maria. You stopped on a particularly curious journal entry.

Feb 11, 1967 Maria is hiding something from me. Our last hunt put us against a pack of werewolves. Two had her pinned, and I barely managed to get to her in time. I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified on a hunt than I was on that one. But one of them must have gotten her good because part of her shirt was torn to shreds. And the blood. I’m not faint of heart by any means. But I only briefly saw the wound, and I think it’s safe to say that it was a pretty lethal amount of blood loss. But she wouldn’t let me help her. We’ve stitched each other up before, so I don’t think it’s because she’s shy. She didn’t come back to the motel room tonight.

Feb 12, 1967 Maria came back some time in the early morning. I’m not sure when because I fell asleep almost immediately when I got back to the room. She had a bandage wrapped around her stomach. I think she might have stitched herself back together. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t let me help. Did I do something wrong? Is she angry at me? She won’t talk about it, and I don’t want to push. But something feels off. She’s acting like nothing happened. I’m afraid that if I dig too much, she’ll leave. I guess I’ll just go along with it for now.

Feb 14, 1967 It’s Valentine’s Day. I think I’m going to ask Maria on a date. She deserves a nice dinner and a break from hunting. The town we’re in has a nice restaurant down on the waterfront. I think I’m going to tell her how I feel. I was so afraid of losing her the other day, and I don’t know what’s around the next corner. I don’t want to lose her without her knowing. I have to tell her.

Feb 15, 1967 They’re gone. Maria’s wounds. I noticed it last night, but it didn’t hit me until I woke up next to her today. I can see where they were. But there’s no way they could heal that quickly. It’s only been four days. Is she a witch or something? Have I just been under a spell this entire time? I don’t want to believe it, but I don’t know what else it could be. Is this what it feels like to have to tear out your own heart?

Feb 16, 1967 Maria is Touched. I guess the name comes from the idea of a god touching you and granting you... something? I don’t fully understand it, and it seems like she doesn’t either. But it’s why she healed so quickly from the werewolves. She can heal from anything, it seems. I asked her if she had been cursed or blessed or anything of the sort, but she says that she’s been able to do it for as long as she can remember. She’s been looking for an answer about herself, trying to find others who are like her. I’m so thankful she’s not a witch. I don’t think I could’ve struck her down. 

You reread the last few journal entries once more, making sure that you had read properly. There was that word again. Touched. And Maria had been one. There had been others before you. There were probably others out there still. But where did that leave you? It seemed to leave you with more questions than answers. The general consensus among most hunters was that anything that wasn’t fully human needed to be put down, if your understanding of their writings was anything to go off of. So if Maria was a hunter as well, then it must’ve been a rather isolating experience – lest another hunter decide that her healing ability was a sign of something more dangerous. But that didn’t help answer any questions. As you flipped through the pages, there was no talk of anything remotely similar to your shadow walking ability. In fact, it seemed like Maria’s only ability was unnatural healing. It looked like the writer and Maria officially started a relationship shortly after Valentine’s Day. Most of the entries following it talked about their relationship or hunts they did together, but there was no other mention of other abilities manifesting with Maria. All in all, things seemed rather... ordinary. Except... You did a double take, turning the page backwards.

June 4, 1967 We found another Touched. We found a few, actually. They’re all in one town for some reason. Apparently each person is different, but they all have the same healing ability in common. There’s a guy who can breathe underwater, and a woman who can encourage plants to grow with just a word. There’s a medium in town who can supposedly tell which god granted you their blessing, and Maria is all for visiting her. I can’t blame her. We’re going to see her later on today. I can’t help but wonder why everyone is here of all places. It’s such a small place that it isn’t on any map. 

June 6, 1967 I feel like I’m dying. She’s gone. I don’t know what went wrong. I thought Maria and I were meant to be. I thought she was my person. But she told me to leave. Told me she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. Told me she had found her people. And I wasn’t one of them. I offered to stay. Told her we could settle down there together. I would give up hunting entirely for her. She wouldn’t hear it. She told me she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. That I was just a means to an end. And now she doesn't have a use for me. Leaving the small town behind was like leaving half of myself there. I love Maria. Love her enough to want her to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn’t include me. 

A piece of paper slipped from the journal, and you barely managed to catch it before it fluttered to the ground. Upon unfolding it, it appeared to be a piece of a map that had been torn from a larger parchment. There was a single spot on the map that had been circled several times, but no town name. With renewed determination, you dug around for a larger map of the States. Sure, it would be much easier to pull up a map on Sam’s laptop, but it was password protected and you weren’t close enough with him for him to have shared it with you. So you were stuck with reading a map the old fashioned way. 

You pinpointed the main highway on the piece of map you had, following it on the full map until you found a similar town name. From there, it was easy to triangulate the spot that had been circled. The town, which had been unnamed on the scrap of paper, was on the modern map and appeared to be located somewhere in Oklahoma, a little ways off from the major roads. Sam returned to find you hunched over the map, tracing the roads with your finger. He came up beside you, protein bar in hand.

“What’d you find?”

“This journal,” you fished it out from beneath the map you had haphazardly thrown over top of everything else. “The writer mentioned someone named Maria who was also Touched. It’s a term that’s been rattling around in my head for a bit, but this is the first time I’ve seen it anywhere else. Said there was a town that had others like me.”

Sam took the journal from you, reading over the page you had left open. He flipped through the pages, only looking up at you when he had seen what you were talking about.

“And that?” he asked, motioning to the map in front of you.

“There was a piece of map tucked away in there. I...”

“You think that’s the town?”

“Yeah.” You paused, eyes still locked onto the spot on the map. “I just don’t know if I can convince Dean to make the drive. I haven’t seen him since Castiel’s... visit.”

“He’ll come around. You just need to give him some time.”

You shook your head. Sam defending Dean shouldn’t have surprised you, but it didn’t get you any closer to the answers you wanted. 

“I can’t just sit here and wait until Dean decides that suddenly now’s a good time for me to get my answer. It’s been two months. I’m tired of the search, Sam. I need to follow this, and I’ll walk there if I have to.” Sam sighed, regarding you quietly as you spoke with a determined gleam in your eye. He knew that look well – it was the same one he had seen in Dean's eyes countless times before. It was the look of someone who had a mission, who wouldn't rest until they had their answers. Sam couldn't blame you for feeling that way; the unknown could be a heavy burden to bear. He held up a finger before turning and leaving the library. You wet your lips, frowning. If he was going to get Dean, then you were going to drag every answer out of him, awkward tension be damned. And Sam would have no one to blame but himself.

But he came back alone, a complex mix of emotions flickering across his face. 

“There was a time when Dean and I chased after an answer all across the states. It drove us to be reckless. To do things that, in hindsight, were insane to think we could accomplish. We were younger. More naive. But we had each other. And that made all the difference in the world. I know you need your answer. And you’re going to find it one way or another. You’re going to do this no matter what I have to say.” Sam handed you a set of keys, their metallic jingle resonating softly as they landed in your open palm.  

You stared at him, words catching in your throat. 

“Sam...”

“I would rather you do this knowing that you have us. It’s not our answer to find, but you aren’t alone. And when you’ve figured it out? Come back. To us. It might not feel like it, but you’re family. No matter what.” You threw yourself at him, hugging him because that’s all you could think to do to express the emotions welling up inside you. He hugged you back, scooping as much of you into his arms as he could and holding you tightly.

---

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Series Taglist: @wendichester @jacxx2

Dean Taglist: @globetrotter28 @bettystonewell @jollyhunter

Want to join the taglist? Ask away!

Part 5 --- Part 7

[aks3raao1]

Me, to Luja: So tell me about yourself

Luja: No

Me: ...ma'am I need to write the story—

Luja: Good luck <3

[now that I do think of it, ALTERNATIVE's main duo that's established right at the beginning is literally a chiller but edgier Katsuki and way worse sUrViVe Nagito genderbends]

~~~~~~

Luja Sen, she/her

Anyways, Luja and Romila are friends from middle school (the story starts with the beginning of their high school at AoS (Academy of the Specialised) which was essentially founded by Nyx). Luja gains her Specialisation (Ferrokinesis: The Ability to bend metal) at the age of twelve, so she has it for a lesser time period than Romila.

Luja primarily wants to become a scientist. Her family is happy with that, because it's praised and everything, especially in our society.

She has a gifted child superiority complex. Being a gifted child + Specialised means that she hardly had many friends in school. Her family had tried to get her to socialize....which didn't go down too well.

She believes that most people are annoying because they waste too much time on useless things like gossiping and what not, which she never showed much interest in and doesn't like to be dragged into those nonsense.

She is friends with Romila since they do share the same taste in stuff and were the only Specialised ones in their class. And they kinda stuck together for most of middle school and went into high school.

She has a problem when it comes to seeing Romila since she tends to see her bad parts and is like, "It's a phase" considering that it's not necessarily affecting her. Romila doesn't get too cranky with her since she fascinates her, with her passion™ for science. Also because she isn't all self sacrifice UwU.

Luja cares for her own self above others (but tends to put Romila pretty close to that hierarchy, which is why she's one of the only two Romila trusts during the Mansion of Death (the other person is Kratanos)) however she also does want to keep what friends she has and is generally caring towards them.

She has a genuine love for science and loves to discover how things work and why, and her favourite facet is Physics. She does want to invent things and honestly just make stuff easier for the Specialised who face a LOT of issues, especially when it comes to amenities since the government is an ass about accomodations and they gained the Fundamental Rights like ten years or so ago in the ALTERNATIVE timeline. And they gain an additional right ("The body won't be harmed for science") when they graduate from school, after signing a contract that they dedicate themselves to helping the government when called upon. (The whole contract is stupid and basically oppresses them more especially the punishment for not abiding by it).

With her goal of becoming a scientist, she wants to use her talents to make accomodations specifically for them so that she could have done something.

The things she fears the most is failure. Failing as in being unable to accomplish her goals. She is afraid of it because it's an unknown variable that's constantly haunted her and she's working hard for it to never reach her.

I suppose there's a way for her to confront that fear during the Mid terms at AoS where she essentially "loses" in the practicals due to her......teamwork issues.

Everyone thinks of her as stuck up and isn't interested to listen to her much and since she views the others as annoying people with annoying habits, she tends to fail to regulate them, causing Romila to win instead (yes, it's THAT unfortunate of a situation) in their match, which causes her to review a LOT of things and she tries to see what caused her to lose after having a severe breakdown.

She develops an inferiority complex in respect to Romila and then spends a long time wondering where she went wrong.

Rena (who somehow clung to her) tries to cheer her up but gets turned back halfway, but she still stays on and Luja is like, "Wtf" until she sees Romila going entirely off the deep end (she presents an interesting contrast to how Koldin sees Romila as well, she sees Romila's behavior and considers it as a justification for her own self....she uses Romila to justify herself a lot (since if you asked Romila, Luja was more or less fine according to her since she wasn't being a doormat and stood up for herself) while Koldin sees Romila as the reason he should cling onto his own stuff) and realises that she could be on the path to destruction herself and accepts Rena's help and tries to be more open to others which leads to the Mid terms parallels in the Archenemy of Society arc where she "succeeds" instead and manages to get the class together enough to escape the situation.

However it doesn't mean that her fear of failure has entirely vanished into the blue, she just reviews the ways she can fail better now and works around it to avoid it and has more confidence in her own self. But she is still scared of failing and would love to avoid that more than anything. However she's chiller after that.

Her intelligence is more or less on par with both Romila and Kratanos, making them the three main strategists in the final battle against the bigots (which is basically a rerun of the Mansion of Death situation but way way worse and fucked up and has different leads to it).

....

The thing is that, no matter what I do, she winds up feeling like one dimensional/repetitive, which is something I am trying to amend about all the characters (I mean, I had to revamp a lot of characters so it will probably take me a long long time to actually get to writing.........sigh besides she stands up like a cardboard amongst people (I mean, you have Romila and Kratanos with extremely complicated storylines and then you have her. Just there))

So the main question is how to make her more interesting as a character and on par with the rest while still keeping her character flaws and personality?

I think the easiest way to go abt this is to view her as a sassy Bakugo. They have the main points in common. They're salty, don't like to socialise, feel inferior to a certain someone while still having some semblance of confidence and a terrible fear of failure

Now as much as I hate to compare your character to another one, it makes it a lot easier to have them become - as my English teacher would say - more. So I am sorry if this comes off as offensive-

For Bakugo, he became interesting by playing a big part in the mc's main story and we do get a few scenes where his vulnerability is shown. I assume it's the same with your character but...what rlly ties the knot for me when it comes to Katsuki is the fact that his problems...are more than just an inferiority/superiority complex. His whole thing stems from background especially (*cough* abusive mom *cough*) and the fact that he's not the main character (or rather that the story isn't being told in his perspective).

These facts make us over think and want more of him. The mystery draws us in which is why I think Luja's character is so perfect for someone in the background. She doesn't like to reveal things abt herself and is pretty dismissive to most things on top of that (plainly just salty). Her character rlly draws you in and the best way to portray those kinds of characters is through another character. Ofc, you'd have to get to their POV eventually but it's important to note that most of the details should come from someone else's POV (an observer, if you will) instead of info dumping and starting straight with hers. A character that's mysterious with a very simple yet relatable story attracts a LOT more attention and interest when seen from someone else's perspective than when you kickstart it from theirs.

Ofc, if u are planning (or already have) started the story from her POV, that would be a bit problematic in terms of interest. But not a train wreck. This is where my other point comes in. The point of making a character have more than one problem

Different ppl as well as characters have a main problem but also different ones, no matter what way you look at it. It seems that even you are confused with all ur character's ins and outs (dw, we've all been there... I am still there tbh) and a solution to that is backtracking a bit and looking at their life from the very beginning in HEAVY detail (like more than u already did). Think abt what other trauma could have been caused, what doubts and fears could have slowly crept it's way to her heart and head (I am a sucker for long-lasting doubts that develop over time) and anything you can even so much as GRASP on. If you look at it and see it as a possibility, try to fit that into her character and add it subtly in different places (as subtext or a creative pattern, wordplay, doesn't rlly matter as long as it's not openly stated bc, remember, the key thing to these types of characters is mystery).

For example, a fear of failure can stem into anxiety before the character has even lost smth later in their life. They probably get rlly anxious when evaluating smth but don't show it much or at all so no one notices. This adds even MORE to the character bc you can build it up after other events. Like once they have failed, they could probably get even more anxious and then develop a bad relationship with the person who beat them (double the points if it was a friend). You could build all that up and turn it super toxic instead of jumping right to the healing. It makes it more interesting, doesn't it? Plus, reevaluating almost everything including world views after 1 loss is...kind of hard to believe even with anxiety (no offense)

Adding a lot of little problems and thinking abt how Luja's behaviour can impact other characters helps a terrible lot if ur doing most of the story from her POV. Especially since she's probably the most relatable character (from what I've heard anyway). I have a certain saying... it goes like, "It's better to have a relatable and connecting character than one with a problem that is too big for normal people to fathom."

I like characters with heart-wrenching problems that I would never be able to relate to (take maybe Shigaraki as an example ig?) But my favourite are the ones that make me feel as tho I made a real connection

Also, I would like to say...if ur looking to progress her character even further, I would debate on whether it's the complete end to the novel or if there'll be a second part. If it's a second part, keep some of Luja's issues. Make her get better but not completely "YAY, I AM DONE BEING TORMENTED". If it's the end of the novel/series/etc., make it so that she's resolved most of most of her issues. They don't have to be completely gone but they have to be a lot better compared to how they started. And how i would work that out is a mind map but knowing ur a scatterbrain...lets talk it out where everything is all over the place

Luja's main thing is to gain confidence in herself and be finally ok with losing, right? If you ask me, that's a tough one but not impossible. I think to get her from point A to point B is to put up a bunch of events like:

Get her super anxious when doing smth

Lose to *insert person*

Have a breakdown and over think on what she could have done better (on the project or whatever she lost at)

Get even more anxious and totally mess up the next thing

Lose once again (double points if it's the same person as last time)

Overthinking abt how she's not good enough

F i g h t i n g f r i e n d s c o z d r a m a

"YoU'rE nEvEr GoNnA gEt BeTtEr If YoU kEeP tHiNkInG aBoUt YoUrSeLf"

Over think abt no. 8 bc out of options and ideas and ✨a n x i e t y✨

Try listening to others more and become b e t t e r

Win smth (bc creator forbid 3 losses in a row to start depression)

Lose again (there is gonna be a bit of back and forth but is necessary for development)

"I tHoUgHt I wAs FiNaLlY dOiNg SoMeThInG rIgHt AnD nOw LoOk"

"Losing is not th3 3nd of th3 fucking world, you lunatic"

"WELL, IT IS TO ME, BITCH"

*insert psychology somehow idk*

Another loss

"I'm angry...but I'm ok"

Note that idk where bullying would come in and these are only how I would think it to go-

A character like this isn't rlly my strong suit when it comes to them resolving their problems but they are fun to write and think abt-

................................did I just give you advice on how to traumatize? I-

[takerfoxx]

So long as I'm getting caught up on all my stuff, here's the next installment of the Walpurgis Nights girls watch The Rebellion Story, this time stretching from Homura shooting herself in the head to her talk with Sayaka the vague-poster!

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

=still screaming=

G: Turn it off, TURN IT OFF!

Ok, panicking: I got it, I got it! Off!

=TV winks out=

Ch: Sweet Christ!

=long pause, and then Gretchen gets up and runs off. Homulilly quickly follows=

Ch: This was a mistake.

Op: What. The fuck?

Ca: I should have known. I should have known it would go this way.

Ch: Candy, there’s no way you could have-

Ca: No! There was! I knew how bad it could get! I knew how far we could have fallen! I shouldn’t have let you guys see any of this.

Ok: It’s not your fault.

Ca: I still should have known. I should have at least screened this!

Ch: Yeah, one of us probably should have.

=another long pause=

Ok: So, uh, are we, like, done?

=suddenly Gretchen reenters the room, followed by Homulilly. They silently return to their seats=

G: Okay. Play it.

Op: Gretch, are you sure?

G: I need to know. I need to know what happens to her. I need to know if we turn out okay. Play it.

=everyone exchanges uncomfortable glances, and then look to Homulilly, who slowly nods=

Ok: Okay, if you say so…

Op: We’d better ease it with the commentary. I mean, this isn’t something we can-

G: No! Please, no. The talking…and the jokes…well, it makes it easier.

Op: Sure.

Ch: It’ll be kind of hard to find anything funny about this.

Ca: We can try to do what we can.

=they start the movie, and silently watch as Homura falls in slow motion, blood and brains spewing out. And then…=

Op: Wait, hold up! How is she still moving?

Ca: As I said, something like that won’t kill her. You would need to destroy her soul gem.

Op: So she can straight up just blow her own head off and walk it off?

Ca: So long as the act of healing didn’t use up too much magic, yes.

H: Okay, but why? Why would I do something like that?

Ca: Let’s find out.

…

Ok: Uh…Ooooh.

H: Oh. Really?

G: What’s going on?

H: I couldn’t get rid of the ribbon on my ankle. Every time I tried to shoot it off, Mami would just grow it back. So I tried shocking her so badly that she wouldn’t think to regenerate the ribbon long enough for her to be caught in the time-stop.

Op: By shooting yourself in the head?!

H: Clearly, I have a considerable amount of emotional issues.

Ch: You know, it’s really starting to concern me how you keep referring to her as yourself just now.

H: I apologize. I will try to differentiate between my alternate selves.

Ok: Oh great, now I’ve gone cross-eyed.

…

Ch: So…this is really uncomfortable. Again.

G: Is she going to shoot Cand-I mean, Mami?

Ca: I mean, there’s clearly a moral struggle.

H: Well. At least I didn’t turn out as a complete sociopath.

Ok: This is seriously gross. Can we just skip this part?

Ca: No.

Ok: But-

Ca: No.

Ok: Okay.

…

Op: In the leg. Well, I guess that’s not as-

Ok: HOLY!

G: What’s happening? What’s going on?

Op: Sweet flames, she’s…a ribbon monster? The fuck?

=pause, and then Charlotte starts laughing hard while Candeloro just sighs=

Ok: Charlotte! Explain! Now!

Ch: She did it! She actually did it!

Ok: Did what?!

Ch: You’ll see!

H: Wow, I am…I mean, she is just all tied up now.

G: Wait, Mami’s there? But I thought…then what was…

Ca: Oh, good grief.

Ok: Wait. Wait a second, you can clone yourself?!

Ca: It’s…not so much a clone as it is a puppet.

Ok: Since when could you do that?!

Ca: Um, well, I had figured it out a short time before our, um, deaths. I was training with Kyo…with Ophelia, and we were practicing with her illusion magic. You know, the duplicates?

Op: Uh-huh.

Ca: Well, she suggested that perhaps I could do something similar with my ribbons, since I could use my ribbons to form other objects. And, well…it worked.

Op: Ooooh. Okay, that’s actually kind of awesome.

H: I was fighting a copy the whole time?! How is that fair?

Ch: You can literally freeze time!

H: Hey, wait. How do you know that she could do that, Charlotte?

Ch: How do you think?

Ca: Like we said: our therapist suggested building positive associations around my change. We had to get creative.

Op: Oh, come on, that’s not fair!

Ok: Wait, you were the one betting on her!

Op: I’m not talking about that! When I do my duplicate trick all I can do with them is give Tavi a show! It’s not like she can touch any of them!

Ok: Babe. Relax. It’s honestly fine.

Op: All I’m saying I should be able to give you a lap dance while the striptease is going on.

G: TMI! TMI!

Ch: You, uh, do know that you can give her the lap dance and let your illusions handle the striptease, right?

Op: Do you know how hard it is to handle two kinds of dancing at the same time when you’re horny?

G: Please, I am begging you to stop!

…

Ch: So…I think someone owes me and Fee-Fee some talents.

Ok: Fight’s not over yet!

Ch: It clearly is…

G: You don’t know that! Maybe Homura will drop a hand-grenade to blow the ribbons up! Or maybe Kyoko will come to save her.

Op: Look, if other-me tags in, that’s an automatic forfeit. This is supposed to be one-on-one, and that clone trick is stretching things as it is.

H: Wait, wait, shut up. Wraiths? What are wraiths?

Ok: Dunno.

Ch: Did we miss something? I get that that nightmares replaced the witches, but what are wraiths?

G: Maybe…after I erased witches, wraiths are what replaced them!

Op: We should’ve just watched the damn show first.

Ch: Do you really think it’ll make things make more sense?

Op: Probably not, but at least we’d know about half of these names!

Ch: Jesus Christ, the fuck is that?

Ok: The sky wants to eat that giant walnut, apparently.

Ch: I can see that, but what does it mean?!

G: I think that’s an eye, actually.

Ok: An eye with teeth.

Ch: None of that answers any of my questions.

Op: Nope, this would still be just as weird even if we watched the show.

…

Ch: And here comes the rescue! Via…fire extinguisher for some reason. Sorry girls, Mami takes this.

Ok: Fine, fine. Thanks a lot, Homulilly.

H: Not my fault. None of us knew about the duplicate thing. I had her beat until then.

Ok: Wait, is that a sword?

Op: Guess it ain’t me with the steel chair, then!

G: Well, of course not. It’s a sword.

Op: That’s not…never mind.

Ok: It’s me! I’m coming in to save you!

H: I’m touched. But…why?

Ok: Because I had fifty talents riding on you, and you let me down.

H: Oh, don’t start.

Op: Wait. That ain’t your voice, Tavi.

Ok: Who else has a sword?!

G: Um, who is that?

Ch: Some kind of kid. Candy, do you recognize her back from before?

Ca: No, I really don’t…

Op: Wait, BEBE?!

Ch: Excuse me?!

H: Um…this is…a turn.

Ca: Don’t look at me, I’m as bewildered as you are.

Ch: Oh, so first I’m a creepy idiot doll, and now I’m a fucking child?!

Op: What is this, some kind of alternate universe bullshit?

Ok: I mean, basically. Uh, you okay over there, Charlotte.

Ch: Nope!

Ok: Wanna take a break?

Ch: Yes!

…

=everyone returns after half-an-hour=

Ch: I think I’ve figured it out.

H: Oh?

Ch: Butterfly effect. Like, okay, in this universe, Madoka somehow erased all witches, right? I mean, made it so magical girls don’t turn into witches anymore, right? And did it all through history, right?

H: Presumably.

Ch: So that means that there has to be major repercussions! Like, like, this girl doesn’t turn into a witch fifty years ago, so she doesn’t eat some random passerby, and that rando goes and marries someone that would have married someone else in the original timeline, so they have a completely different set of kids, so the kids they would have had originally don’t get born! So somewhere down the line, things got all screwy and I ended up being born a few years later!

G: Wow, that actually makes a lot of sense.

Op: I guess we’re all super-lucky that we got born at all. And that the rest of us ended up more-or-less the same. Um, no offense.

Ch: Right. That’s all it is. Different timeline, things happened differently, and I’m a little girl in this world. That’s it.

Ok: So…are you okay with this then?

Ch: Oh, absolutely not! But I can at least deal with it now!

Op: Bet’cha anything that good ol’ Bebe here still has a major crush on Mami.

Ch: Oh, God! Don’t even go there!

Op: I’m just sayin’…

Ca: Ophelia…

Op: Stopping, stopping.

H: Shall we continue?

Ch: Yeah, I guess. I’m gonna need major therapy after all this is over, though.

G: We all will.

…

Ok: Okay, I know this is probably a bad time to point this out, but Sayaka has style!

Op: I mean, you’re not wrong. Look at you, being all effortlessly cool! Not that you aren’t already.

Ok: Nice save there.

Ch: Haha, Sayaka’s got it right! Taking on Mami was a dumb idea. Speaking of which…

Ok: Oh, come on! That clone trick was dirty and you know it!

Ch: Oh, I’m sorry. Are you upset that she so happened to have something that counters Homura’s extremely unfair timestop power?

Op: She’s got a point. A bet’s a bet.

G: All right, I guess it’s official. Mami won.

=Candeloro smirks=

H; You don’t have to be all smug about it.

Ca: True. I don’t.

…

G: Wait…

Op: So, what, Sayaka knows what’s going on?

Ok: Of course I do! I mean, I’m the brains of the bunch!

=Homulilly coughs=

Ok: I heard that.

H: I didn’t say anything.

Ch: Well, finally some exposition!

G: I do sort of wish that she’d just tell Homura what is going on without being so vague about it.

Ok: Look, I’ve been pretty much on the wayside this whole movie. Let me have my monologue.

Ch: What’s she getting at though?

H: Oh.

Ch: Huh?

H: I think…Never mind.

G: What is it?

H: I just had sort of a realization, but I’d rather not say it now.

Op: Eh?

H: Hang on. Let’s just watch a bit more.

…

Op: Jesus, Tavi! No need to show Homura up like that!

Ok: Let! Me! Have! This!

Ch: That was pretty cool, though. Shwing! Stopped her cold!

G: Wait, so one of us is the…

=voice trails off=

G: Is it me?

H: Um…

Op: Oh.

Ok: Oh.

Ch: What? Oh, okay. I get it now.

Ca: I sort of put it together too.

G: What? What are…Oh.

=everyone looks at Homulilly=

H: Well, it only makes sense. I guess.

Ch: You don’t seem all that upset about it.

H: Well, at least I get to become my best self in this movie.

G: But…how though? I thought I erased witches or whatever!

Ok: Let’s find out.

Ch: If your other self can ever get to the point.

Ok: Shhh…

…

Ca: Wait, I’m the witch? Is that what she’s implying?

Ch: Pretty sure that’s just a red herring.

Ok: You know, it’s nice that Sayaka is actually being all sympathetic toward witches. I mean, it’s kind of fucked up, isn’t it? That even the magical girls that know the score still hunt down witches instead of trying to help them.

G: I mean, it can’t really be helped, can it?

Ok: I know, I just like that I’m saying it.

G: The Law of Cycles? What’s that?

Op: Probably whatever trippy business you replaced the witch stuff with.

H: Oh, now I’m finally just saying it out loud! Madoka erased witches. Took us long enough to get to that point.

Op: Wait, sacrificed herself? Only Homura remembers her? What?

Ch: Pretty sure this was all explained in the show.

Op: Well, that’s what we get for watching this first. Should we go back and-

Everyone: No.

Op: Cool.

…

Op: Oh, freaky!

Ok: Wait, so I’m the witch now?

Ch: Could mean that in this timeline you turned into a witch before Madoka did her un-witching…thing.

Ca: That is what you looked like. Right before you became one with Charlotte, I mean.

Ch: Er…

Ok: Phrasing…

Ca: Oh, for Heaven’s sake. It is literally what happened. You turned into a witch while we were fighting Charlotte, and then the two of you fused. Then I became a witch and fused with that witch. And then Ophelia became a witch and we all fused together.

Ok: Yeah, but the way you said it…

…

H: Where’d she go?

Ok: Clumsy? You have the gall to call me clumsy? Who just saved who’s ass, just now!

H: Cut me some slack, it’s been a long evening.

Ch: Y’know you still got blood and brains all over your cheek, right?

H: I am certain that Homura does not care.

Op: I am certain that Homura is about to blow the brains out of the first punk-ass that looks at her wrong right about now.

Ok: Headshots for everybody!

H: Except Madoka.

Ok: Except Madoka. She can be the token un-brain-slushee.

G: Gee. Thanks.

Ca: I’d like to just point out that Homura came very close to turning me into a brain-slushee, but changed her mind.

Op: I doubt she’ll let you off so easy a second time.

Ch: Easy. Hey, may I remind you who won that fight?

H: You’re not going to let that go, are you?

Op: Tell yah what. Losing party treats the winners to dinner at the Tradewinds. Fair?

H: Fair.

Ch: Seriously? With the prices they have down there it’ll be cheaper just to cough up the fifty talents.

G: Yeah, but onion volcanoes!

Ch: Hard to argue with that logic.

Ok: So…on a scale of one to ten, how badly is Homura going to flip out when she realized that she’s the witch.

H: I will accept nothing less than a massacre.

Ok: Cool. Just so long as it’s not of us.

Op: I don’t know. The way this movie is going I wouldn’t be surprised if this turned into a straight-up snuff film.

[thesaunatest]

MY HUGE THEORY ON EL’S PLOTLINE IN S4

before you guys even start, YES I know that 99.9% of what I say is going to be wrong but this is literally just for fun.

its march 1986, middle of the school year and el HATES school

when we left her she was barely literate and had just started getting accostomed to speaking full sentences, NOWHERE NEAR a 9th grade level, so shes struggling in her classes to say the least

on top of that, she barely knows how to socialize with other people, so shes evidently getting picked on

with joyce and jonathan both working to keep the family afloat, will and el get left alone alot

but outside of the party, they socially have nothing in common

in fact, will is adapting to the new town a whole lot better than el. he fit right in with all the creative kids he met in class, but el didnt mesh with that crowd

anyway, our girl is sturggling

the only time she really has fun is when she visits hawkins, or when someone from the party visits them

which leads us to spring break

mike obviously comes to visit, and el doesnt want them to waste a single second so she begs mike and will to come explore the town with her

at this point joyce is already in her detective mode, hatching a rescue plan for hopper so she doesnt notice theyre gone

and jonathan is battling the heartbreak of nancy ghosting him when she was supposed to come visit

so the trio goes off on an adventure without anyone noticing.......... or so they think

because brenner is back, and he knows el is with the byers, but he cant go and snatch her because he doesnt have the resources all the way in california

in fact, he doesnt have the resources at all. his numbers experiment is seen as a catastrophic failure that lead to the deaths of hundreds of lab employees

the only way for him to redeem himself in the community, and gain his funding back is to present his peers with proof that the project can work, so he needs to get one of his numbers back

el is the only one he can track down, but he doesnt think he can do it himself. if she saw him, she could just kill him with her powers, he assumes because he doesnt know she lost them

so who does he employ to get el back to hawkins? lonnie byers

its almost too easy. it doesnt take much to bribe lonnie, and hey, its not like its his kid. so lonnie accepts the bribe, and goes all the way out to california to find el

he shows up at the byers house..... only to find it completely deserted. so he waits

and the trio finds him there after their day out (why are you here? what do you want? where are mom and jonathan?)

and lonnie, being as crafty as he is, comes up with a good excuse on the fly (hes craftier than i am because i genuinely have no idea what he would say)

anyway, he gets them in his car and on their way back to hawkins

jonathan shows up after theyve already left, and is too stoned tired to think anything of the empty house

and joyce is already halfway to russia

will knows his father. he knows that his father doesnt give a shit about him, the family, or anything about hawkins. he knows that his father wouldnt get involved in anything unless he had something to gain. so hes wraking his brain

maybe.... lonnie pulls over to take a suspicious phone call? maybe will figures out an inconsistency in his story? either way, the gang is onto lonnie and figures that they gotta get away from him and get back to joyce and jonathan

they tuck and roll out of the car. idk. all that matters is that they get out of there

as theyre rolling out of the car, el bonks her head a little and has a quick flashback to her time in the lab

since her intuition is always spot on, she takes this as a cue the breener is back and lonnie is working for him

she tells the boys it isnt safe to go back to california or hawkins, so they come up w an alternative plan, somewhere neither brenner nor lonnie would think to look for them

and while theyre on the road, they stop at a diner to eat (dont ask me where they got the money) and we get will leaving an emotional voicemail home, probably sobbing to jonathan about how much he means to will, which gives el an idea

because who has the resources to help her, as well as a desire for vengeance on brenner? kali

el uses her superb hitchiking skills to get them to chicago

maybe she just has some hints of her powers left, but it isnt too hard for el to find kali

she explains everything thats happened, and lets kali know that if she want revenge, the opportunity is hers

unfortunately, lonnie was hot on their trail, and called for reinforcements

theyre ambushed by the few employees brenner has working for him. initially, everyone is hiding, assisted by kali’s powers

but el knows they arent leaving empty handed, and would rather get taken away then have kali’s freedom taken from her

so el reveals herself, followed by mike because he wont leave her, followed by will because he wont leave mike

all three get taken away, back to hawkins lab, but now kali is even more motivated to bring down the lab once and for all

so kali and her gang get to hawkins, almost simultaniously with jonathan, who has been looking for his family in a frenzy since the morning he woke up to find eveyone gone, without even a note or a phone call, as well as argyle, who came along for the ride

the video store is being used as home base this season, so thats the first place they go, where they find steve, shortstaffed and not knowing whats going on because the whole team ditched him

they catch him up to speed on how EVERYONES GONE and steve catches them up to speed on how EVERYONE IS GETTING MURDERED

meanwhile, brenner has three predicaments

1) no matter what he does to el, what kind of torture he inflicts, she isnt using her powers because she doesnt have them. she tells him this several times. he refuses to believe it

2) lonnie byers is demanding his payment, which he didnt recieve because the deal was that he bring el to them, and he couldnt even do that

3) he has to find a way to dispose of mike and will, who he had no intention of bringing into the lab but theyre here and they know everything

and this is the moment where mike screws up by letting them know that people know theyre in the lab and people know about all the experiments and any second now, someones gonna come banging that door down to save us. nancy, jonathan, steve, robin max, lucas, dustin, kali-

and the second mike says her name he knows he screwed up

brenner decides in that moment that all he can do is round up everyone involved and get rid of them. conveniently, the string of murders occurring will serve as a good cover for what happened to them

and this is the part where joyce, murray, and hopper get back to hawkins

this is also the part where nancy and robin and the gang get back to hawkins

so nancy and robin immediately go to the video store armed with all the new information they learned from victor creel

..... and are met with jonathan, argyle, kali, and steve in pandemonium

they close the store for the day, and get ready to storm the lab

they realize that they need something from the school, so they head there to pick it up

and soon after arriving, theyre met with the all to familiar hawkins lab vans

they make a hasty escape, taking out some of the goons but they need to find a way to get the rest off their trail

they head for the woods, hoping to hide out in the cabin

meanwhile, the russia crew has taken the mostly demolished cabin as their haven to recover from whatever injuries they sustained

theyre all running through the woods, but they realize the people from the lab are closing in on them

and then nancy and jonathan pass a very familiar tree

they use whatever weapon they have on them to break through the bark, and head into the upside down

the lab people keep going into the woods, eventually finding hopper’s cabin

epic showdown between the russia crew and the lab people, joyce, murray and hopper win, they realize the lab is back, immediately head there realizing theyre gonna have to rescue someone

nancy and robin use the info they learned from victor creel to keep the gang alive in the upside down, max, argyle and eddie are freaking out because omg we’re in another dimention, we get some big reveal about the truth about the upside down and the gang makes their way out and head to the lab

and while this is all happening,we get some super emotional monologue between brenner and el (ala-the last 10 minutes of the truman show) and brenner realizes that el isnt going to be the naieve superweapn she used to be, and decides the best thing he can do with el is give her the standard punishment, time in the closet

and being in the closet triggers all sorts of flashbacks and emotions (mbb’s opportunity to show off her acting chops for an emmy)

joyce and hopper bust into the lab like they did in season 1, but this time they dont get caught

they decide to split up to cover more ground, and hopper finds el in the closet

and around the same time joyce finds mike and will and gets them out of there

here comes the REAL emotional performance

hopper sees her, we get a teary eyed “el!” “dad!”, and then hopper gets pulled away from el by lab workers

exactly the same way terry did

we’re watching this happen from el’s perspective, with a heart-wrenching “noooooooooo” from el, accompanied by cuts to every time el has had to be separated from someone she cares about (terry, the s1 ending, billy dying, her leaving kali in s2, saying goodbye to everyone on moving day, her being separated from mike and will when they got to the lab) accompanied by some terribly sad 80s song, then back to the present moment, she reaches her hand out and boom, the guards go flying. her powers are back

except she doesnt have control of them the way she did before, and now shes bringing the whole building down

her and hopper race to the the first floor, and meet joyce and the boys, they get out of the building at the very last second, and the whole thing collapses.

eventually they find the other group, the whole team is now together, they go and take down the big bad from the upside down, joyce almost KILLS lonnie

nancy and robin drop a huge bombshell that has to do with hawkins/the upside down, specifically pertaining to el, which they pieced together after talking to victor creel

we get a massive cliffhanger, season 5 starts like 10 minutes after the ending of season 4

[yamadadzawa]

Oooh thank you for taking prompts, that’s so cool of you! Can we get an Aizawa accidentally finding out his resident problem student Midoriya is an orphan and/or homeless and adopting him with Mic? All the specifics of the hows is up to your own creative liberty! Bonus if they find out about his past trauma and quirklessness but idk if that would fit given it’s a short one shot hehe

Thank you so much for this prompt!! Yours was the first I received, and I finally got some inspiration and time to write a piece. I’ll share it below, and will post a link to the fic on ao3 separately! 

---

A Fragile Promise

General Audiences | No Warnings | M/M

Aizawa Shouta & Midoriya Izuku, Yamada Hizashi & Midoriya Izuku, Aizawa Shouta/Yamada Hizashi, Yagi Toshinori & Midoriya Izuku (mentioned)

Aizawa Shouta, Yamada Hizashi, Midoriya Izuku, Yagi Toshinori (briefly)

Alternate Universe-Canon Divergence, Homeless Midoriya Izuku, Not Dead Midoriya Inko, Disappeared Midoriya Inko, Protective Midoriya Inko, Parental Aizawa Shouta, Parental Yamada Hizashi, Aizawa Shouta & Yamada Hizashi Adopt Midoriya Izuku, Dadzawa, Dadmic, Sensei | All for One is Midoriya Izuku’s Parent, Dad for One

Shouta notices the shift shortly after the students return from their internships. He doesn’t see it right away. It seems the Problem Child’s internship was good at giving him a boost in confidence—something that has suddenly dropped in the last few days. Midoriya’s usual bubbling energy is subdued. He still greets his friends each morning with a bright smile and brighter words. His performance in class hasn’t wavered, and he’s still giving hero exercises that plus ultra effort. 

But something is missing. His smiles don’t stretch quite as wide, his voice is a fraction lower, his hand is slower as he takes notes. Instructions for practical exercises are followed by silence, where once Shouta could count on the thrum of mumbling words from Midoriya. It’s like something is just wrong enough for Shouta to notice, but when he tries to pinpoint what it is, he gets turned around and lost. 

Fortunately, Shouta is a stubborn man, and he listens when his gut tells him that he shouldn’t let this go. He keeps a mental list of things that don’t make sense with his Problem Child. Day in and day out, it grows. Deeper, darker bags under his eyes. A gaze that darts around corners, lingers on his belongings, narrows when others get too close to them. A growing lag in his energy, shaky hands. Lips bitten raw, cuticles torn red. His uniform, once mostly meticulous, now consistently wrinkled, and occasionally stained. There are a few possible answers that linger in Shouta’s mind, poking and prodding at him every time he sees Midoriya. But nothing concrete. And then Yagi comes to him near the end of the day that week, and that nagging feeling that something is wrong grows. 

“I think something may be wrong with Young Midoriya,” Yagi confides in him. “But when I tried to ask, he quite cleverly avoided the question, and now I fear he’s avoiding me.” 

“You think I’ll have better luck?” Shouta raises a brow at the man. It’s no secret to anyone that Midoriya is Yagi’s favorite, and vice versa. 

“Perhaps,” Yagi nods, sounding somewhat reluctant to admit it. If the topic of their conversation wasn’t the wellbeing of one of his students, Shouta would be tempted to smirk. “His respect for you is...different. Than it is for me.” 

Shouta snorts. “His fear, you mean,” Shouta huffs, rolling his eyes when Yagi blanches and coughs quietly. “I know my reputation among the student body, Yagi.” 

“I assure you, that is not what I meant,” Yagi insists. “I only meant...well. Young Midoriya’s respect for me is closer to hero worship, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Shouta inclines his head. 

“His respect for you is for his teacher,” Yagi continues. “My hope is, that will be the difference.” 

Shouta passes a hand through his hair and considers that. “Alright, you’ve got a point,” he admits. “And I’ve noticed something has been off for about a week or so now. It started a few days after the kids got back from their internships. It could be what happened in Hosu with Stain-” Shouta scoffs when Yagi tries to hold back a shocked cough. “I’m no fool, Yagi. I can piece together what actually happened. But I don’t think that’s it. Or at least, that’s not just it.” 

“Keep me posted, please,” Yagi frowns, and Shouta will never admit out loud that he hates seeing that expression on the man’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Shouta waves a hand, dismissing himself from the conversation and tucking his face into his capture weapon as he walks away. He needs to find Midoriya. 

Of course, when he reaches the classroom, his Problem Child is nowhere to be seen. A few of the students linger around, including Iida and Uraraka, and they look as confused as him when their eyes catch on Midoriya’s empty seat. So he snuck out without them realizing it, Shouta thinks, mildly impressed. He sees no reason to stick around if Midoriya isn’t here, so he turns on his heel and walks to the teacher’s lounge. 

Hizashi is waiting for him when he gets there, sprawled across one of the couches, already changed out of his Present Mic apparel and dressed down, hair in a loose bun. “Midoriya gone already?” He asks. 

Shouta sighs and nods. “Looks like he slipped out without his friends noticing,” Shouta answers, dropping down onto the couch across from him with his head draped over the arm. “Part of me wants to make a home visit, but at the same time, that could make things worse if I’m not careful.” 

Hizashi is silent for an uncharacteristically long time, so Shouta lifts his head to look at his husband. Hizashi’s eyes are narrowed, fingertips pressed together, teeth pressed down on his bottom lip. Shouta sits up and leans forward. He knows that look. “‘Zashi? What are you thinking?” 

“Come with me,” Hizashi says, in lieu of an answer. Shouta nods, though, and does as Hizashi asks. If showing him is easier, if Hizashi can’t quite find the words, that’s fine. Shouta will trust him. 

-----

Shouta begins to piece together what Hizashi was thinking as he follows him out of the car, and into the unsuspecting building across the street. It’s packed full, which isn’t a surprise given the population of the city. Shouta isn’t as familiar with this food bank as Hizashi is, so he lets Hizashi keep the lead once they’re inside. It takes them a few passes around the space before Shouta’s eyes catch a hint of green that looks familiar. Midoriya is alone, tucked in at a table in the corner, with a tray of food. 

“You were right,” Shouta murmurs to Hizashi, nudging him and directing his attention towards their student. 

Hizashi sighs sadly. “I was hoping I wasn’t.”

Shouta hums and reaches down to squeeze Hizashi’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he walks over to Midoriya’s table. He’s careful to approach from the side, where Problem Child will be less likely to see them until they’re close. He’s impressed when those green eyes snap their way sooner than he expected, and in any other situation, that wide eyed look on his face might be funny. 

Shouta doesn’t say anything as he slides into the seat across from his student, but Hizashi does murmur a gentle “Hey there, little listener.” 

“Yamada-sensei?” Midoriya asks, curiosity overriding his panic, eyes flitting over his teacher, then to their joined hands. 

“Yeah,” Hizashi smiles. “This is my incognito look. Works surprisingly well.” 

Midoriya gives them a wobbly smile, then looks down at his food, pushing it around on his tray instead of eating. “How, um,” he stops and swallows. “How much trouble am I in?” 

“None,” Shouta says simply, as if the question doesn’t surround his heart with ice. “You haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“O-Oh,” Midoriya’s brows do something funny there, clearly not expecting that. “But, um. But I’m…” 

“You’re what?” Hizashi asks kindly, leaning forward to rest his chin on his palm, squeezing Shouta’s hand. When Midoriya doesn’t really answer, Hizashi hums. “Maybe this will be easier. Midoriya, do you have somewhere to stay?” 

Problem Child shrugs, eyes still locked on his food. Shouta sees the way his hand shakes, knuckles white as he squeezes his chopsticks. 

“Hmm,” Hizashi hums. “Maybe not the right way to ask. Midoriya, do you have a house or apartment to go home to?” 

This time, Midoriya doesn’t answer, but the color on his cheeks and the tears that adorn them are enough. 

“Oh, kid,” Hizashi voices their heartbreak, and releases Shouta’s hand to stand and slide into the seat next to Midoriya instead. His movements are carefully telegraphed, as he wraps an arm around their student and pulls him in close. 

Shouta frowns and looks around the room, trying to spot anyone who looks like Midoriya. “Kid, where’s your mom?” When he turns back around to face Midoriya and Hizashi, the kid has gone pale and rigid in Hizashi’s embrace. Shouta meets Hizashi’s eyes, a silent conversation between them, and Hizashi takes back over. 

Hizashi shifts to try and catch Midoriya’s eye, though the boy is doing a good job of avoiding that. “Midoriya, did your mother...kick you out?” 

A firm head shake, those green eyes flashing indignantly. And that’s certainly something. “Kid, why isn’t she with you?” Shouta presses. More head shaking, slower this time, eyes guarded. 

Shouta has two options here—he can continue to push, and risk the kid closing off completely, or he can let it go, and salvage what he can of this. He opts for the latter, albeit reluctantly. “Alright,” he sighs. “I won’t ask you about your mom anymore. If,” Shouta pauses, waiting for Midoriya to lift his head and meet Shouta’s eyes. “If you’ll agree to come stay with Hizashi and I. At least for now.” 

Shouta is used to his Problem Child being extremely easy to read. He doesn’t know what to do with this Midoriya, who looks back at him with a wall behind his eyes that Shouta can’t see over. The only reason Shouta knows his anxious student is still behind that wall is because Midoriya’s nervous habit of twisting and pulling at his fingers prevails. 

“You won’t be a burden,” Hizashi murmurs. “We’ve got a guest room, and plenty of food to feed three people.” 

Shouta can tell they’re close. “And cats,” he adds on, mouth twitching when Midoriya’s fingers still and some light peeks through in his eyes. “Three of them.” 

Midoriya ducks his head down, biting at his lip and pressing his hands against the table. Shouta knows they have to be patient here, and wait him out. Thankfully, it pays off. 

“Okay,” Midoriya whispers.  

-----

Midoriya is predictably skittish when they get him home. He keeps his bag hugged tight to his chest, and looks like he isn’t sure whether he’s allowed to put on the slippers Shouta nudges his way. The cats, of course, are good at breaking that tension. 

“This one,” Shouta stoops down to lift up the biggest, a deep gray Maine Coon. “Is Umbra.” 

“Just a warning,” Hizashi grins. “He doesn’t really seem to understand that he’s big and heavy. He’ll lay on your back or your chest and crush you.” Hizashi’s grin widens when he earns a small giggle from Midoriya. 

Umbra hangs limp in Shouta’s grasp, though he watches Midoriya, and is quick to thump himself against the boy’s legs after Shouta sets him down. Unsurprisingly, the smallest of the other two cats is quick to try and steal Midoriya’s attention. Midoriya gasps when he sees her, crouching down to get a closer look. 

“Ah, yeah,” Shouta says. “That’s Iris.” 

“So small,” Midoriya whispers, trailing gentle fingers over her back. 

“She’s a Singapura,” Hizashi crouches down to pet her too. “Or at least, that’s what we’ve been told. She was a stray, so we took her in. This is apparently as big as she gets.” 

Midoriya looks between Umbra and Iris, and he doesn’t even need to say anything. Shouta snorts. “Yeah, it’s sure something.” Midoriya looks past Shouta and spies the last cat, a grouchy, gangly, and orange bastard. “That’s Bean. He’s not exactly the friendliest, so it might be best if you…” Shouta trails off, staring as Bean prowls over to Midoriya, and bonks his head against the boy’s cheek. 

“Huh,” Hizashi says, grinning widely. 

“Huh,” Shouta echoes. 

Midoriya beams at Bean, and holds his hand out, letting Bean rub against his knuckles until he’s satisfied and walks away. Midoriya turns that smile towards Shouta and Hizashi, and Shouta knows they’re done for. 

-----

Having been in Midoriya’s position once, Shouta knows to camp out on the couch. He’s not at all surprised when, around three in the morning, his Problem Child creeps through the living room with his bag on his back. 

“Midoriya,” Shouta calls gently. 

Midoriya yelps and jerks back, frantic eyes searching for Shouta in the dark, guilt flooding them when they lock eyes. Shouta sighs softly and pats the couch next to him. Midoriya’s shoulders droop, and he shuffles over, dropping down onto the spot. 

“Was it something we did?” Shouta asks, being sure to keep his voice kind. 

Midoriya sniffles quietly and shakes his head. Shouta hums and leans back. He has a thought, and wonders...

“Is it...your mom?” 

There’s a sharp inhale of breath, and then no sound at all as Midoriya holds it and goes perfectly still. 

“Izuku,” Shouta murmurs. “Please.” He doesn’t say anything else, and for once, it’s a feat. He doesn’t usually have to bite his tongue to stop the flow of words from passing his lips. But right now...he needs to wait. 

Minutes pass with no sound between them except quiet breathing, and the occasional sniffle and hum from Midoriya. Until, finally, nearly ten minutes later, Shouta’s patience pays off. Midoriya pulls his bag into his lap, and unzips a compartment on the front. There’s a faint rustle, and then a hint of white in the darkness. 

“Here,” Midoriya whispers, holding out a piece of paper. 

Shouta takes it between careful fingers. He can just make out the writing from the glow of the window. 

I have to draw him away. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t look for me. I will come back. 

“Him?” Shouta barely breathes the question, unsure whether he’s scared that the boy or the paper will fall apart. 

“I don’t know,” Midoriya replies, matching his tone. “I don’t know.” 

Shouta sighs shakily, curling a hand across his mouth, fingers clenching against his jaw. 

“S-Sensei,” Midoriya whispers. “Promise me, please. Promise me you won’t look for her. She said, said not to. She’ll come back. But I, we can’t, can’t look for her.” 

Shouta closes his eyes and exhales shakily. “Alright, kid. Alright.” 

It’s the worst kind of promise Shouta can give a child—one he’ll have to break.

[kth1]

Again [MYG]

Again [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credits: @kimtaehyunq​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+ | Vampire AU ⟶ Warnings: use of vulgar language, adult content, mature themes, bloodplay, foreplay, creampie, biting, unprotected sex, yoongi is a hungry vampire, bed sex, etc ⟶ WC: 3.5k+ ⟶ Summary: History with a vampire, you think you’d be over it by now. Yoongi comes and goes as he pleases. But why does he keep coming back?  ⟶ Teaser: “He looked up at you through leering eyes, beaming deep garnet because he was so drugged on your blood. Mouth tinted red and in awe, “I told you I’d make it feel good.”” ⟶ Author’s note: Hi, hey, what’s up? It’s been awhile since I dabbled with writing but I’m glad I had creative juices flowing to help motivate me in making some BTS stuff. Many writers and editors have re-inspired me and I’m grateful to them. Also, nearing Halloween, I had to do something like write about a vampire. 😊

A shifting sound alerts you out of sleep. The room is dark, only being illuminated by random electronics throughout the area, like the blinking green light coming from the computer. A weight on your bed silently moved from the side towards the end. You heard a “pounce” sound come from the foot of the bed. In silence you listened to your cat scurry off out the room. It creaked the bedroom door as it exited the room and you listened to her pattering down the hall until the sound disappeared.

Lazily, you cracked open your eyes briefly to check the alarm clock on the stand beside the bed. Noting that it was close to 3:30 am. Inhaling in deep, you try to find composure to continue where you left off. Sleeping.

The standing fan facing your bed blew a soft breeze towards you. It was something you’re used to having, conditioned yourself. The sound of a mere fan helped you sleep at night. The soothing sound created just enough to give you low ambiance during the still nights. Complete silence had its own aura, that made you uneasy. Causing you to stay up listening to you own mind ponder useless nonsense.

You felt the temperature drop, a cooler breeze flowing through your room abruptly that wasn’t created through the single fan. Rolling over to face the wall that had your window, you noticed that it was left open allowing the cool night breeze flow in. Pushing past your navy curtains that shifted with the motion of the air. But you didn’t leave the window open?

As you leaned up in bed to head for the window a mysterious figure emerged into view, quickly making its way towards where you lie. In a blink of an eye you gasped, about to yell out when it leans down suddenly to cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhh… Don’t scream. It’s me.”

With eyes still widened from the shock, you soon relaxed. After recognizing the deep voice that split through my room, you eased back. How long has it been since you last heard this voice? With a nod, giving them the acknowledgement that you won’t shout.

The figure sat themselves down on the side of the bed, indenting their body into the mattress. Releasing their hand off your mouth slowly. It’s not the first time this happened, but it’s something you never fully got used to.

“Yoongi?” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”

His features were lit up slightly from the moonlight piercing into your room. He had a puzzled look to his face, he looked utterly confused. But his features were still stunning as ever. Effortlessly, he looks unreal, skin clear and glowing, hair styled neatly, and his attire clean cut and alternative. No doubt he was beautiful, he is a vampire after all. And most vampires are generally born with an extra little ‘spice’ to them.

But you still worried why he looked so disoriented. Something seemed to be bothering him and for him to randomly show up in the middle of the night, especially after not seeing another for a few months, you didn’t know how to take the situation that was at hand.

He sat still, looking broad and staring into the abyss, locking himself in his own world. Hesitantly, you placed yours hand over his that propped him up on the bed. His skin was cool and smooth, it felt like you just hovered your palm over a marble slab.

Yoongi’s thumb brushed over your fingers, slightly taking a grip of your hand in return. Grabbing hold of it only seconds later and bringing the back of your hand up to his mouth to place a small but sweet kiss. His touch reminded your of being touched by a snowflake that quickly melted by your own body heat. Yoongi lingered there for a few moments; you felt his cool breath exit his nose.

“I missed you, Y/n.”

You sighed. Not this again. There’s no way you could put yourself through this again. You’ve always been there for Yoongi ever since the two of you first met. Helping him in any way you could. But it’s difficult to keep up with him. He’s out of your league to put it nicely. Everything he needs is something you cannot match up to. It takes a toll on you each and every time.

You fully sat up in bed, retracting your hand slowly from his grasp. “Yoongi, we can’t do this,” you admitted. You were scared to put yourself through any more pain. Even though something in the back of your naive mind was yelling at you for saying those words out loud. Deep down you truly cared for Yoongi, truly wanted to be his and only his. But you weren’t enough.

He continued to stare off into the distance, listening carefully to your words. He looked calm though something felt off. That’s one inspiring thing you loved about Yoongi, no matter the situation he was able to give off a cool and relaxed exterior. But that also makes him scary at the same time.

“I need you.”

You blinked at his words. Did you hear him correctly? Yoongi snaked his hand back lacing it with your fingers once again, using his thumb to soothingly rub over it. “Please,” he spoke turning his head to look at me. From what you could make out it looked like he was struggling hard with his composure. His mannerisms felt off. It felt like there was something more to it than he was giving.

Leaning over with your free hand to reach for the light on the stand, Yoongi quickly snatched your wrist and held it still. “Keep it off.”

His sudden movement had you shocked, not as shocked when he broke into my room through the open window and nearly gave you a heart attack a few minutes ago, but shocked, nonetheless. Now you were beginning to feel totally concerned. He was hiding something from you! “Yoongi, what’s really going on with you?” You spoke, biting down on your lip.

Yoongi brought both of your hands to him, holding them close to his chest. He wasn’t one to really show much emotion, not because he didn’t have any, but more because it was difficult for him to express himself. You’re sure he constantly had conflicting thoughts in his mind endlessly.

“I just needed to see you again.” His voice deep, mumbled under his breath.

Yoongi kept his head down, clutching his hands to yours. Was this his way of  showing sincerity?

You leaned towards him, moving your hands up, cuffing his face. Forcing his head up you held his cold face in your warm palms. Easily you could make out more details in his features. Your thumbs brushed along his cheekbones, ones that stuck out more prominent than you remember. It’s still fairly dark around your two bodies and though it was difficult for you to see under his hooded eyes, he had deep dark bags formed. Making him look drawn out.

“Have you been feeding, Yoongi?” You spoke in a soft tone.

He attempted to turn his head away, though you held it still. Instead he averted his gaze and exhaled deeply. “I’m fine.”

“You look pale.” You addressed matter-a-factually. 

He half-heartedly chuckled, “I’m a vampire. I’m supposed to be paler than normal.”

You rolled your eyes at his bluntness. Yes, that was a given, being a vampire and all. “You know what I mean!”

Yoongi shifted himself more on the bed, kneeling towards you. Misery laced through his aura, he looked like he’s been through a tough time. Pain painted across his delicate face.

“Why aren’t you eating?” You asked, pushing his dark bangs away from his forehead with a hand.

Yoongi shook his head, in disapproval of what he’s about to say. What he’s trying to admit. “It’s not satisfying anymore... It’s not the same.”

Cocking your head to the side, like a puppy trying to understand the voice before them. “What?” Your body involuntary moved to the side, opening up space for Yoongi to lay besides you. Patting the newly opened spot, you offered him with a gentle smile. 

He obliged, kicking off his shoes without the exchange of words. Lifting the duvet up and over his thin body once he slid himself closer. Yoongi laid facing you with his precious head resting in the fluff of a pillow. Pieces of his hair flared out, his arm hung loose around your waist; giving you just enough space away but not enough to be completely out of reach.

Your body heat trapped under the covers helped add some temperature to his cooled body. You couldn’t stand the way he looked. Your heart ached seeing his pain. “Talk to me, I’m begging you.” You traced his bottom lip with your index finger, trying to get his lips to open up and move.

Yoongi’s eyes met yours, the set of deep brown orbs connecting back to your own pair. They swirled with hidden emotion. His breath hitched the moment the pad of your finger landed on his mouth. He gulped, “It doesn’t feel right, unless it’s you.”

Your heart beat raised slightly to the reaction of this news. Your mind trying to process what he’s openly saying. “Please don’t say silly things.” You retorted with a scoff.

Something was telling you not to believe him and fall for this. Your mind was only trying to protect your from being hurt once again. But your body… your body ached and longed for Yoongi’s touch. You knew you missed him too, but you were utterly afraid to admit it yourself.

“Since when have I ever lied to you, Y/n?”

You swallowed hard. He’s right. No matter the penalty he was very straight forward with everything. Never giving false hope. So why would he be doing that now? Unless…

He is telling the truth.

You laid there speechless, staring back into Yoongi’s gaze. Not having a single word, a single vowel, not a single sound release from your lips. Just your two bodies placed side by side in soundlessness.

“How long has it been?” You mustered up the courage to ask.

“Two months.”

“But- Why?”

Two months is too long. Yoongi - he was depriving himself. He was willingly starving himself. And for what? Because it’s not the same? What’s not the same? Nothing has changed. He’s vampire. Your human. It doesn’t work. The two of you clash. It’s a reoccurring cycle - it’s all the same.

His gripped tightened around your waist, latching your close into his body and deleting all empty space. Your hands found their place against his carved chest. Faces just inches away from another. He formed a soft smile while looking down to your parting lips.

“Because of you.”

In a smooth motion he leaned in, meeting his thin curved lips to your rosy ones. The sweet savory moment heated up your cheeks, blossoming a hue of red. His tongue eagerly reached forward asking for access to your mouth. It was tender, sensual, and you groaned for him to touch you again. Memories flooding back to your mind of the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that… All impressions of him.

You caved hard under his presence.

Yoongi had a hold on you, curling his free arm to lift your thigh up over him. You extended your hands up into his hair, running your digits through his neat dark beautiful locks, tousling it up during the heated exchange between us. Enough to leave you short of breath as he finally pulled away from the kiss.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. He trailed kisses from your jawline down to your neck and touching base at your collar bones. Hitting that magical sensitive location that made you go wild. A faint moan escaped pass your lips, “Yoongi…”

He fluttered many gentle icy kisses all around. Tender. Intimate. Lingering. You arched your neck enough to give him more room to continue his actions, to continue making your feel the way you were experiencing once again. He guided his hand up and down your thigh, gaining friction between your skins. You couldn’t help but ease into his delightful touches, slip under the patterns he traced with his slim fingers. Pushing your body up against him as much as you could to feel his hardening member under all the fabric.

“It’s okay, you can.” You muttered.

Yoongi continued to sway your body, completely falling under his spell one more time. He dipped his hand down, pushing under the hem of your shorts and past your pants, gliding a single finger between your slick folds. His digit taunted your clit, that little bundle of nerves controlling your every move. You were a sitting duck under Yoongi’s movements, all nerve endings screaming for him to work his tricky fingers.

“I’ll make it feel good for you.” Yoongi reassured to you.

A puff of air left your mouth; gripping down onto his shoulders. He slides down another finger, copying exactly what he did with the first. Yoongi’s touch is entirely intoxicating. Pressing against that sensitive sweet spot then plunging them deep inside your entrance in one swift motion.

With that, Yoongi licked a firm line up your neck. His trail of saliva coating your supple skin, glistening in the dim light. He curled his fingers up into your core, sliding in fast using thanks to your self-lubrication that collected down there. The tips of his fingers prodded straight into your g-spot, stimulating you even more as his teeth sank into the crook of your neck. The sensation sending shivers all over your body.

You moaned out in pleasure. A wave of sparkly adrenaline raced throughout your veins, washing over with a radiating heat. He hasn’t done it like this before. Oh please, “don’t stop!”

Yoongi sipped down the stream of fresh blood that leaked into his mouth. The impending orgasm that crept up far too fast for your liking had you fluttering your eyes shut. Instantly you body jolted to him, walls clenching hard around his slender fingers, riding out the ripples pacing within you as steadily as ever.

There was no recognition of how clothes flew off of your bodies, but they were on one second and gone the next. Bodies fumbling together, contacting the hot and cold temperatures.

Before you could even register the moment, you felt something thick and hard push pass your entrance and velvety walls, stretching you out with every inch that sank in. Your vulnerable puckered cunt receiving the full length of Yoongi’s hardened cock. 

He looked up at you through leering eyes, beaming deep garnet from the drug of your blood. Mouth tinted red and in awe, “I told you I’d make it feel good.”

Not once has he told you anything but the harsh truth. He never spoke out a lie  and you appreciated everything about that. Not once ever deceived. Mislead. Or felt like he exaggerated from facts or reality. You loved him for this, so much.

You reconnected your lips, pushing yourself pass the taste of iron that came with it. You wanted him, you craved him, you needed him again. Even if it hurt you. Just like this you’ll keep him.

Yoongi hovered over you; dick still submerged into your pussy. Tip entering and exiting you in long strides at a fast pace. Please don’t stop this. God, please don’t.

“Again.” You tossed your head to the side enjoying the pleasurable feeling.

“Okay.”

He locked his teeth back into the juncture of your neck, creating another puncture wound. But it didn’t feel like a wound to you. It felt like a love bit - a mark of his signed and packaged directly to me.

With the weight of him on top, Yoongi’s hips bucked sharp into you, jacking his cock back and forth. Skin slapping together filled the room, you held on tight with legs crossed around his tiny waist. Penetrating you perfectly into bliss.

Yoongi’s mouth moved down to my left breast, immediately contacting it with sloppy wet open-mouthed kisses. Raising a free hand to give attention to the right breast, stimulating and pinching the nipple making it harden within seconds.

“Y/n, I can’t get enough of you.” Yoongi admitted between kisses, botched of blood peppering your skin. 

Face flushed, “Again!” You whined rolling your hips up into him to match his pace.

He can’t get enough of you? You can’t get enough of him. You had wanted nothing more than to feel connected to Yoongi regardless on how different the two of you were. His fangs once again pierced your bare skin, just above the breast this time. How he’s doing this is beyond you, fucking you hard with his dick, sucking you weak. But you still felt more energy than ever.

Yoongi continued his pace, eventually fastening his thrusts and mouth messily moving across your exposed skin. Staining areas with blood as he continued to paint over my body. Unbothered by the look, it felt natural.

Your blood put Yoongi through a craze of his own that he could only experience. Your scent filling up the room for his own satisfaction. Yoongi repays you back with lustful strides of his cock, forcing himself deep against the crest of your cervix. Shifting your body up with every powerful thrust, rocking the bed beneath your molded bodies.

Inaudible voices traded to another. Grunts, moans, growls. You could feel your climax coil in your lower stomach, persisting to blow over again and wishing to wash your body with sporadic twitches and spasms.

Was it the loss of blood in your body making me lightheaded or was it from the wonderful pounding you were getting? Probably both, but you couldn’t imagine it being any other way. If this is the Yoongi you get, you’re going to keep him as long as possible.

“I can tell you’re close. You’re stiffening around me, why don’t you let it go?”

You shook your head stubbornly; refusing to confess him your thoughts. You couldn’t reveal something that would mean nothing to him in the morning. Yoongi furrowed his brows as if he knew exactly what going on in that little head of yours.

Yoongi lifted himself, bending his knees into the bed and positioned one of your legs over his shoulder - giving his cock easier access and angle into your womanhood. Lifting your bottom half up on his thighs and snapping his hips repeatedly into you at this new angle forced you to squeeze your eyes shut, rolling your head back with a gasp. Simultaneously your hands reached out for anything to hold onto, to anchor yourself down. 

He grunted at the sight of you, grinning wide with specks of blood on the corners of his mouth. You laid out in front of him at his own supervised mercy. A puppet and he- your puppeteer. This is what he couldn’t get enough of. What Yoongi missed. What he needed. This is what satisfied him. You laying beneath his control with joy plastered across your face has he’s balls deep into the warm wetness of your clenching pussy, tightening around his fully erect dick. 

But you were delaying the grand finale.

“O-oh god, Yoongi…” You shrieked as the head of his cock forced itself dead on your g-spot, numbing tingles shooting down your legs.

Yoongi wasn’t giving up. He was determined to flush you out completely and taste the rich flavor of your metallic blood. Addicted to the taste and smell of it all.

“You’re going to cum again whether you like it or not.” He hissed.

Forcing his thumb between your legs, he rubbed harsh circles on your clit. His thrusts jammed deep into you, forcing your release to hit you full force. Juices spilling around his cock, sending your body in a raging frenzy. 

He attacked his mouth to your raised thigh, burying his teeth, forming a deep gash and allowing a stream of blood run down the expanse of your leg. Yoongi lapped up the spilled liquid, at the same time using his lower back to roll his hips and chase his own sinful high. He clenched his teeth hard, bruising and mutilating the skin on your thigh once he released his full load into your cunt, earning a shriek of pain from you. Dick throbbing, your walls held onto him tightly, milking every last drop.

Yoongi tossed your legs to the side and collapsed face down into the mattress, panting heavily along with you. Your legs felt a tingly sensation all over besides the area that burned from the mouthful of flesh he dug into. His essence slowly oozing out of your cunt.

Again, your mind flooded with ‘am I good enough’. Did you satisfy Yoongi to make him stay with you or will this be a repetitive process and you will not see him again until he needed to get off? Why does your mind fill with doubt? With everything Yoongi just said, you still refused to believe it.

“Stop thinking.” Yoongi turned to face you.

“I-I can’t help it.” You choked, fresh tears collecting in your eyes.

Shifting so that his body connected to yours, Yoongi placed delicate kisses along your arm all the way up to your face. He latched his arm around your waist, rolling you to face him in return.

“I’m staying. I promise.”

The tears fell, you couldn’t control it. It’s like he read your mind, your body, and soul. Yoongi shushed you with a soft peck to your cheek, and one last one to your lips. 

Yoongi never lied to you. 

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[suchalovelydisaster]

The King- a Sanders Sides Fanfic

What was Creativity like before he was split in two parts?

Link for ao3

Words: 1898

Terrifying. Inappropriate. Unwanted. Intrusive. Disruptive. Creativity replayed these words in his mind several times over. It was not uncommon for him to be shot down every once and a while by the other sides. Most commonly, these words came from Anxiety. But now these insults grew more frequent and became more attacking in tone. Goddamn Anxiety. He might as well be called ‘paranoia’ with the way he treats Thomas.

Anxiety’s presence had become more and more prominent over the last few years. By the age of fifteen, the King believed he held more sway over Thomas than any other side. Despite Logic doing his best to overrule any negative feedback that was presented by the other side, Anxiety worked his hardest to make Thomas feel more alone than ever before. Now, the King of Creativity must do his best to work Thomas out of this grave Anxiety has dug.

As he used his skills to aid Thomas in conjuring fictional worlds, he found the other side would retreat into his room. When the King would exercise his rights to fully take over. He could send Thomas into daydream mode and allow him to be free of whatever would trouble him.

Daydream mode, however, sometimes came with side effects. Once daydream mode began to fade out, toward the ends of Thomas’s day, vivid nightmares would occur. As Anxiety was able to re-emerge into the mind palace, the visions of fairytale creatures would morph into horrific alternate versions of reality. Realities in which Thomas did things that would have dangerous consequences. Visions where Thomas hurt those he held dear and had always been kind to him. Fear and paranoia would take the wheel and lead Thomas into late-night spirals that were difficult to escape.

As the night would go on with Thomas losing precious hours of sleep daydream mode could finally fully dissipate. Leaving the King vulnerable to whatever criticism he would soon face. The sides could finally retire to their rooms after Thomas finally fell soundly asleep. But sometimes the King would overhear things said by the other sides.

“I feel terrible for the poor kid, honestly.” He heard Morality say once. “He can escape for a little while and is then thrown into a spiral of terrifying visions.”

Terrifying, The King thought. Morality thinks what I can do is terrifying. A rush of guilt came flooding over the side. His purpose was to be Thomas’s creative center. He was supposed to help Thomas, not become a hindrance to his everyday life.

He flashed back to a time when Thomas was quite young. Elementary school, you would write a story and illustrate it. Thomas was never excellent at drawing but, as The King of Creativity, he would try his hardest. The details of the story were fuzzy to him but he remembered an illustration of Thomas electrocuting one of his older brothers. The King had imagined it as a funny joke, which is what Thomas’s classmates saw it as. Unfortunately, Morality did not see it that way. The King was told that it was inappropriate and terrible to even joke about hurting a loved one.

Despite this warning, years later, Thomas would be faced with nightmares worse than what his innocent third-grade sketches could ever predict. The thoughts of performing a heinous crime that he had read about in a crime-novel or speaking about his deepest secrets to those who would use it against them. Fear of alienation would stop Thomas from speaking about what he thought about.

Soon, a day would come when Anxiety would approach Creativity after a daydream mode experience gone awry. He had said to the King, “I heard Logic use a term to describe what happens to you toward the end of your little brainstorming sessions,” He had begun. There was a harshness in his voice, he also sounded mildly taunting, like he was going to say something the King wouldn’t like. “He called them Intrusive Thoughts.”

Intrusive Thoughts. The King looked at the darkly dressed side in front of him. “What does that mean?” He had asked. He knew that, if it were important enough for Anxiety to tell him this, these words did not have pleasant meanings.

“To my knowledge, the word ‘Intrusive’ means something along the lines of disruptive or unwanted.” Anxiety replied, his voice was eerily calm.

It was disconcerting to see the side that was responsible for Thomas’s fears speaking with such a mild tone. From an outside perspective, it was obvious Anxiety was trying to get under Creativity’s skin. From the perspective of the King, it was working.

“Take that as you will, your Highness.” Anxiety shrugged and walked away from Creativity. Leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Anxiety’s words ran through the King’s mind for a long time. Even as he prepared to go to sleep, the remarks haunted him. Now, as Thomas faced another restless night, so did the King of Creativity. As time passed, the King heard the other sides express their concerns about Thomas’s wellbeing. They blamed Creativity for the ways Thomas’s mind would sway to writing something unpleasant or dark. They would tell Creativity that they needed to have positivity and happiness in order to cancel out the effects of Anxiety’s fear. And despite some very good brainstorming sessions in daydream-mode, there was also the stray few that would end in disaster.

Intrusive...disruptive...unwanted. Anxiety’s words, once again, ran through his mind. The King was now feeling shameful and guilty about how he was trying to help Thomas. This time was different from the others, however. This time, the feeling was not gone in the morning.

As the sides began their days, the King woke up still feeling guilty about the night before. He began growing afraid to engage in daydream mode for fear of the consequences. This, however, left both himself and Thomas feeling worse than usual. Soon, his only form of escapism for Thomas was gone. He began growing more distant from the other sides and was unconsciously isolating himself. His insecurities began to get the best of him. There would be times when he would duck out entirely, in order to avoid judgment.

Thomas’s imagination was stuck in a slump. Normally, he was incredibly creative and could write a story with ease. Writing was one of the ways he escaped his anxieties and the rest of his troubles. Now, he was stuck in a place where he couldn’t think of anything to write and was falling deeper into his fears and worries.

One night, the King had come out in order to alleviate Thomas’s stress, after a particularly difficult day. He had hoped that emerging in dire circumstances would lessen the chances of things going wrong toward the end of daydreaming. The King saw the look of surprise on Logic’s face as he asked to enter daydream mode. He never asked for permission, however, he had thought that asking for permission would be less disruptive.

Everything was seemingly going according to plan until daydream-mode began to fade out. Thomas’s ideas of drafting villainous characters began to shift into thoughts of himself as the villain; wreaking havoc on the relationships he had worked so hard to build up.

As Creativity saw what was happening, he panicked and retreated into his room. He abandoned daydream mode without hesitation. Leaving the other sides to deal with the aftermath of another disaster. As he disappeared into his room, the King broke down. He heard the words of the other sides running through his mind. Terrifying. Inappropriate. Unwanted. Intrusive. Disruptive. The King paced back and forth throughout his room. Thoughts were rattling inside his brain.

Am I hurting Thomas? How can I get rid of all of these horrific ideas? I can’t keep putting Thomas through all of this. What is the point of trying to help? Would it be better for everyone if I just was gone for good? His mind raced with questions and fear. How ironic, the King thought. I have now become the anxious and insecure side.

With that thought, the King collapsed to the floor. Gripping at his bedframe for stability, began to sob with his thoughts becoming even more frantic. What is wrong with me? How do I fix this? How...? Why...? What...?

Without any warning, he was enveloped in darkness.

He was alone, standing by himself, in a void. His head was ringing and he felt like the world was spinning around him.

“Get rid of the bad creativity.” He heard his own voice echoing throughout his mind. “Fix yourself.” It now echoed.

Suddenly, the King felt a sharp pain go through his entire body. Almost as if he was being ripped apart. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

He was still surrounded by darkness, thus causing the pain to be even more concerning. What is happening to me? The agony continued, as the colors of red and green flashed in his vision causing him blacked out again.

Two boys woke up on the floor of the King’s bedroom. One dressed in white with a red sash. The other dressed in black with a green sash. The looked at each other with the same fearful expression.

“Who are you?” They both asked at the same time.

“I’m Creativity.” They both responded. They both talked about the memories that they had leading up to that point. The pain and then waking up to the sight of each other. They talked about who most likely represented good creativity and who represented bad creativity. They decided that they were twins and a result of the King’s breakdown.

“Does this mean that we’re both the King?” The side in black and green asked.

“I think I’m more of a prince now,” the red and white side responded. “Since neither of us is fully the King anymore.”

“Well, if you’re a prince the I’ll be a duke!” Exclaimed the boy in green and black.

The Prince decided to call himself Roman. He decided that the Duke would be called Remus. Their names were similar to the twins Romulus and Remus, in Roman myth. Because the prince represented “good” creativity and Romulus was who Rome was named for, the prince decided that Roman was a good fit.

As time would go on, Roman would become the prized brother. He was “Good Creativity” after all. Remus became rejected, taken in by Deceit, and the other sides that were considered to be bad or harmful to Thomas. The Prince seemed to forget the trauma that caused the King’s split. The Duke, however, would harbor those memories for a long time after being shut out by the “good sides.”

Later in Thomas’s life, Anxiety would become one of the “good sides” too. The side that caused Creativity the most pain before the split. Soon, Remus would grow aggravated by the amount of attention Anxiety was getting by the good sides. As Deceit would also make more frequent appearances in Thomas’s decision making, Remus grew more fearful that he was becoming the only rejected side left.

Remus decided that sooner or later he was going to get the attention he craved. He didn’t give a damn if he was considered a “bad side,” he just wanted to be heard and have his voice be listened to. He decided to use his own daydream mode.

[murkycran]

Rainboots

Summary: "First, there was never any proof that was even me, and secondly, I have a hatchback, Virgil, obviously any hypothetical opossums in cages would be stored in the back rather than on my leather seats." 

"I was literally sitting beside you when Remus asked you to help and you said yes-" --- It's pouring when they leave the movies, Remus does his best to get them all banned from the theatre, Virgil's ride canceled on him, and only three of them are wearing rain boots.

Rating: Teen

Relationships: Gen

Characters: Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sleep | Remy Sanders

Tags: Friendship, Teenagers, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Remus' brand of humor, Anxiety, Angst, very small angst where Virgil is having negative thoughts, But Nothing Too Bad

Words: 3410

Read on AO3!

---

As the end credits rolled and the lights of the theater brightened to allow guests to leave, the sudden lack of theatrical music revealed another sound.

"Is that rain?" Virgil asked, leaning forward in his seat to look at the others.

Remus was already out of his seat and hurriedly making his way...up? the theatre steps, rather than heading for the exit. Roman didn't appear to be paying attention at all, seemingly trying to reach down the back of his shirt for something while Logan checked his phone for missed notifications. Janus gave Virgil a dry look. "No, that's not rain at all. It totally sounded like that before the movie started."

As if punctuating his words, a rumble of thunder shook the building.

Patton hopped to his feet and dug around in his drawstring bag for a bit before emerging with a collapsible, lime-green umbrella clasped in his hand. "I hope everyone came prepared! I wouldn't want the weather to dampen the mood!"

Virgil completely missed the pun, because he, in fact, did not come prepared and was already dreading getting his clothes soaked. Janus at least remarked, "I'm not sharing my umbrella."

"Nor am I," Logan agreed, standing up as he put his phone away. "I told everyone in the group text earlier today to bring adequate rain gear, so no one is going to be able to use the excuse that they 'didn't know'."

Virgil sighed as he stood with the others and they began shimmying down the aisle towards the stairs. "Yeah, well, I kinda ducked out of the group text after Remus started threatening spoilers for the movie."

Speaking of. "HEY! Hey, guys, look!"

Virgil already felt a wave of mortification sweeping over him as not only their group but everyone else still in the theatre turned towards the projection booth at the top of the stairs. Remus was using his hands to make shadow puppets of dicks in front of the light coming from the projector.

"Oh my god," Virgil choked out, suddenly wishing the ground would swallow him up. Janus and Logan both wore unimpressed looks as Patton chuckled nervously and called back up to Remus. "Hey kiddo, maybe come back down? We don't want the movie theatre employees to ban you again."

"Patton, stop acting like we know him!" Virgil hissed. "Everyone's looking at us!"

"Normally I'd relish the attention," Roman spoke up as he finally stood, still shifting his shirt and jacket in an odd fashion, "but I have to agree with the Dark Knight on this one, padre. I'd rather we all not get banned because of my brother."

"Glad to see the everlasting, unbreakable bond of blood between brothers is still as strong as ever," Janus said.

Logan pushed his glasses up on his nose, raising an eyebrow at the tamer twin. "Roman, what are you doing?"

Roman's reply was cut off as Remus made a mad, cackling dash back down the stairs through the last of the people leaving the theatre as employees appeared from behind the projection booth door.

"We should leave quickly," Logan said. He was checking his phone again. "I'm getting flash flood warnings for our area."

Virgil groaned. "As if Remy's driving wasn't bad enough."

They all shared a wince. No one carpooled with Virgil twice after riding with Remy in the driver seat.

The remaining five - since Remus was no longer in sight - began making their way down the stairs. Roman lagged behind after every few steps, still tugging at his shirt behind his back. After reaching the bottom and glancing back to see the twin still struggling on the stairs halfway up, Patton finally asked, "Do you need help, bud?"

Roman huffed frustratedly. "Remus kept putting candy down the back of my shirt during the movie. I got the Twizzlers out, but I'm pretty sure he also dropped some Reese's Pieces down my collar. I think they're stuck to my back from sitting between me and the seat cushion."

"Oh, so that's what he was doing," Janus said. "I was wondering why he was moving around so much."

"Aw, what a waste of candy," Patton pouted.

"Dude, just go in the bathroom and take your shirt off to check," Virgil said.

"Yes, please do that," Janus agreed, eyeing Roman warily all of a sudden. "If you're going to be riding in my car there will be no melted candy left behind in the seats."

Roman sighed but finally stopped pulling at his shirt and jacket to follow them the rest of the way out. As they neared the bathrooms, Logan asked, "Why didn't you just stop him from doing it?"

The twin scoffed. "Uh, have you met my brother? It's Remus, you can't tell him to do anything, and it would've been exactly what he wanted: me making a scene in a dark theater. Besides, I got some revenge by shoving SourPatch Kids down his shirt, too." The last bit was said with a bit of pride.

Janus groaned dramatically as Roman left them outside the bathrooms. "Great, two people littering candy in my car." He sighed as he made his way to the benches against the wall opposite of the bathrooms and sat down, pulling his yellow, faux snake skin-patterned backpack into his lap and opening it.

Patton took a seat beside Janus and Virgil sat on Patton's other side, slouching down with his hands shoved in his pockets. Virgil said, "I know for a fact that you helped Remus smuggle possums into the guys gym at school two months ago using your car to back up to the back entrance. Yet you're worried about a few pieces of candy?"

Janus rolled his eyes as he pulled off his left shoe. "First, there was never any proof that was even me, and secondly, I have a hatchback, Virgil, obviously any hypothetical opossums in cages would be stored in the back rather than on my leather seats."

"I was literally sitting beside you when Remus asked you to help and you said yes-" Virgil started to argue, but Patton cut him off quickly, desperate to avoid the argument that was sure to start. "Janus, you brought rainboots, too?"

The teen in question had pulled two shiny yellow rainboots out of his backpack and already had one on. "Of course I did. My regular shoes are too nice to get wet. Plus, these keep water from getting on the cuff of my pants."

Logan was looking at the garishly yellow backpack somewhat dubiously. "How did you even fit those in there? You snuck in all the drinks in that bag."

"Please, I'm a very efficient packer. Carrying five bottles of soda in just because you all are too cheap to buy from the concession here was child's play, even with my boots."

"I wore my boots, too!" Patton excitedly stuck his feet out, proudly showing off his cat-patterned rainboots. "Why didn't you wear yours in? They're so cute!"

"What if it hadn't rained?" Janus asked as he packed away the shoes he'd originally been wearing, now sporting his yellow rainboots. "I would've looked like a fool."

Logan said, "There was a ninety percent chance of rain."

"Still didn't want to risk it."

"Risk what?" Roman interrupted, finally leaving the bathroom.

Virgil stood up, looking at his phone. "Janus ruining his hypothetical reputation."

The hoodie-clad teen missed the impressive glare Janus shot his way. "Excuse you-"

"Guys, where's Remus?" Roman once again interrupted (to the relief of Patton and Logan).

"I think he's outside," Logan said, pulling out his collapsible, navy blue umbrella. "He's probably waiting on us."

He was right. Sort of. Outside the rain was pouring down hard enough that a mist was being swept under the overhang of the theatre by the wind. The parking lot was visibly flooded with only a few cars left in sight. They found Remus using a sharpie to draw on one of the encased movie posters placed outside the building. "You guys are slower than corpses. I've already drawn on Shia LaBeouf's movie poster over there and remade it into a masterpiece. Want to see?"

Everyone was thankfully saved from answering by Virgil's strangled noise of frustration. "Guys, I have a problem."

As Patton held a hand out for the sharpie (which Remus turned over with only a slight pout), he asked, "What's wrong, kiddo?"

"Remy just said he can't pick me up. He thinks the tread on his tires wouldn't stand up against this much rain and he's worried we'd hydroplane."

Well, what Remy actually said was this:

Sleepy bastard: hey V, sorry but I can't pick u up tonite. it's raining 2 hard *sad face emoji*

Virgil: seriously? how am I supposed to get home?

Sleepy bastard: gee, idk, ask ur friends? call an uber? hey, I'll even pay for it bc this is kinda my fault

Virgil: what

Sleepy bastard: I keep forgetting 2 go get new tires and I'm afraid the tread wouldn't get any good traction with it raining this bad. can you imagine getting out in this like that, with MY driving? *horrified face emoji* one of ur friends is some rich kid, right? i bet he can afford tires, probably the BEST tires *several dollar sign emojis*

Virgil: oh my god

Virgil: youre my cousin and youre literally leaving me out in the cold

Sleepy bastard: gee, babe, it's almost like that driver's test u refuse 2 take might actually be worth taking now, huh?

Sleepy bastard: ok srry that was a low blow. but rlly i think u should try 2 get a ride with ur friend. not kidding about my tires being shit. college is sucking my bank account dry and i don't want 2 add a car repair bill, or worse, a hospital bill

Virgil: ...fine

Sleepy bastard: cool cool, I'll leave the lights on for u. lmk if u decide to spend the night at a friends house instead

Virgil almost would've laughed at that if he wasn't currently wondering how he was going to get home, because spending the night at one of his friends' houses, unexpected and uninvited? Yeah, right, like he'd do that. He needed at least two days' notice in order to psych himself up into talking to anyone else's parents, let alone inviting himself to their house unexpectedly.

Thankfully, he didn't have any reservations about asking his friends for a ride. "I need a ride. Can I go with one of you guys?"

The rest of the group shared a glance. Janus spoke up. "Well, technically I was driving everyone home... Roman and Remus were dropped off and Logan rode with me here from school since we had a debate team meeting after school. Patton had a GSA club meeting after school so he rode with me, too. My car only holds five people."

Virgil felt the first stirrings of panic winding up in his chest - he's such an inconvenience, if only he could make himself take the stupid driving test without freezing up - only for the fear to die as Remus suddenly scoffed. "Of course you can fit more than five people in that fancy car of yours, Dee, you're just not trying hard enough."

"Remus, you're not riding on the roof of the car again. We saw what happened last time," Logan said in a somewhat exasperated tone.

Patton paled. "Again?"

Roman waved off the cat-loving teen, unfazed. "Trust me, you didn't miss much. They were going so fast I didn't even get a good video out of it."

Patton made a choking noise, looking increasingly more worried. "Guys-"

Remus giggled, slapping a hand down on Patton's shoulder. "Don't worry, Dad, I was so pumped full of adrenaline I didn't even feel anything when I landed."

"You're going to give him a stroke," Virgil muttered, eyeing the increasingly paler Patton warily.

"The point is..." Remus cut in, "if the back cargo space is good enough for my opossum friends, then it's good enough for me. Problem solved."

"Hypothetical opossum friends," Janus hurriedly corrected. "But sure, we can try it."

"Cool, great, quick question though-" Roman said, staring out at the flooding parking lot. "Why the hell did you park so far away?"

All eyes turned to squint out through the virtual monsoon that was coming down. At the farthest end of the darkened lot sat golden Chevy Bolt, illuminated by the weak beam of a parking lot light pole.

"So people wouldn't park near me and risk scratching my car, obviously," Janus said, completely unbothered by the fact that his car was at least a good fifty yards away. "Unlike some people, I brought an umbrella and appropriate footwear. I can just pull back around and pick you all up so you don't drip in my car."

Completely disregarding his words, Remus suddenly shouted, "First loser to the car gets shotgun!", before taking off headlong into the pouring rain. Not to be outdone by his brother, Roman cursed before running after him, yelling, "NOT FAIR!"

The remaining four watched with varying reactions of dismay, amusement, and confusion.

"...Wouldn't the loser be the last one to the car? And I thought Remus was going to ride in the back...?" Logan asked.

Janus hummed. "He is. I'm pretty sure he just wanted to get wet."

Virgil once again regretted his life choices, looking down at his worn-out converses and tattered jeans. "This is gonna suck so bad. I'm going to be soaked the second I step out there."

"I don't know," Patton said with a smile, still watching Remus and Roman chase each other in the rain. "It looks kinda fun to me."

"Oh, please," Janus started, shooting a wide-eyed look at Patton, "don't tell me you're actually thinking about-"

The glasses-wearing teen shot Janus a bright smile. "Pleeeeease?"

The blonde teen stared hard at Patton, trying to resist. After a few moments, Janus finally crumbled with a put-out sigh and roll of his mismatched eyes. "Fine, go for it. Seems like everyone is out to ruin my car's interior tonight, you might as well join in."

With a gasp of delight, Patton leaped forward and put his arms around the shorter teen, exclaiming, "Thanks, Janus!"

Looking a bit like an indignant cat that didn't want to be held, Janus awkwardly patted his back. "Sure. Whatever."

Virgil was snickering to himself at the look on Janus' face, only to be startled out of it by Patton shoving his collapsible umbrella into his hands. "Here, Virge, you can have my umbrella since I won't be using it now!"

Then the cat-loving teen was laughing as he dashed out into the rain, ignoring Logan's call of, "Be careful!"

The last three friends watched as the others gleefully ran about the parking lot. Roman reached the car before his brother, but Remus just jumped on his twins' back and held on, making Roman shriek indignantly and stagger as he tried to adjust to the new weight. Patton was finding the deepest puddles of the parking lot and jumping in each one with giant splashes, his laughter echoing across the parking lot even in the rain.

Janus sighed once again and pulled out his umbrella. "Well, I suppose it was about time I had my car detailed anyways."

As Logan opened his own navy umbrella, he said, "I suggest we walk at a slower pace than the others to the car. Not only could we slip if we ran, but running in the rain causes you to get even wetter than if you walk because more droplets are hitting you as you increase speed."

Virgil hummed, taking note for the next time he had to go between classes when it was raining and opened the bright green umbrella Patton had lent to him. It popped open to reveal two eyes and a mouth resembling a frog's face on the green fabric. Cute, he thought to himself (but didn't dare say out loud; he had an aesthetic to maintain). Mumbling, he shot a "thanksforlettingmeridewithyou" in Janus' direction.

The blonde teen's mismatched eyes lit up and he grinned. "What was that, Virgil? I don't think I heard you. Speak up a little bit."

The hoodie-clad teen huffed. "You heard me, I'm not saying it again."

"Hm, rude."

All three of them stepped out into the downpour and began making their way through the flooded areas of the parking lot. Virgil's shoes were soaked in virtually seconds, but at least his hair and eyeshadow was dry. Patton had nearly made it to the car at this point as Remus chased Roman around the vehicle, going in circles while shouting at each other.

Janus twirled the keys in his hand but made no move to unlock the doors until he was standing at the driver's side door. Patton moved to get in the door behind the driver's seat. He was soaked to the bone and grinning as Virgil came to stand next to him and shared the umbrella with him (even though it wouldn't do much good at that point). Roman, thinking Janus was about to unlock the door, stopped running to stand and wait at the passenger seat door. "HA! I call shotgun."

Stopping turned out to be a mistake. Remus, still thoroughly engrossed in the chase, tackled his brother right into the wet asphalt with a triumphant cry. Logan deftly stepped in to take Roman's former spot and it was only then that Janus unlocked the car.

Everyone sans Roman and Remus quickly piled into the luxury hatchback that no high schooler had any right to be driving. As Janus cranked up the heat to full blast, a soaking wet Roman swung open the door to the backseat and dove into the last open spot behind Logan, grumbling. "Seriously, Remus, why? You just succeeded in getting us both completely wet. This jacket is probably ruined now, thanks to you."

Remus, who was already crawling into the cargo space behind the back seats via the back hatch, blew a raspberry. "Just get it dry-cleaned, you baby. Besides, some of us like getting wet, if you know what I mean." The comment was collectively ignored.

"I can already tell there's going to be scuff marks from the pavement," Roman said as he examined the fabric. "I hope those Sour Patch Kids I put down your shirt melted to your clothes when you got us both wet."

"Oh, I already ate those."

There were more than a few disgusted faces in the car at that particular statement. Roman looked horrified. "That's so disgusting- How are we even related?"

A question everyone had heard numerous times...

"The car isn't moving till everyone is wearing their seatbelt," Janus stated, sternly eyeing the backseat passengers in the rearview mirror. He and Logan were both already buckled.

Virgil scooted over a bit for Patton, who had taken the middle seat between Virgil and Roman, to reach his buckle. "But Remus doesn't have a seatbelt."

"Remus doesn't count," Janus said.

"Yeah, emo," Remus leaned forward to poke Virgil in the neck. "God herself couldn't kill me."

Virgil gave a full-body shudder at the poke - Remus' fingers were freezing - and leaned forward to get away from the offending hand. "I swear to god, Rem, if you keep that up-"

Patton paused in trying to wipe away at the water obscuring his glasses and turned in his seat, squinting. "Now kiddos, play nice-"

Roman snorted. "I don't think my brother even knows how to 'play nice'."

Remus jabbed freezing fingers into Roman's unprotected neck in gleeful retaliation.

Tuning out the less mature back seat passengers and setting the windshield wipers at full blast, Janus shifted into drive and began to slowly pull out of the nearly empty parking lot. Logan studied him out of the corner of his eye for a few moments before saying, "I would think you'd be more upset at the amount of water we tracked into your car, Remus and Roman especially."

Janus shot Logan a mischievous grin as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "Oh, I'm sure I'll find a way to collect on this favor with each of you at a later date."

"Of course you would," Logan sighed, already dreading the implications.

The blonde teen simply snickered, finally pulling out onto the road to begin the ordeal of dropping everyone off at their respective homes.

[goldheartofsteel]

apologies to my heart - a Moceit Soulmate AU

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series)

Characters: Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman “Princey” Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus “The Duke” Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani

Relationships: Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus “The Duke” Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - College/University

Tagging:@omgsomeonesomewhereonearth || @patient–zer0 || @kawaiikat54 || @uniquedonutland || @sanderssides-angst || @wellhellothere09

CHAPTER 9:

Virgil drags Roman as far away from the living room as possible, to ensure that Patton and Janus have privacy for their conversation. However, this means he ends up with Princey in his bedroom and not under the circumstances he would have preferred. 

“Alright, Storm Cloud. What was that all about?” asks Roman, the moment Virgil releases his arm. 

Virgil huffs, not knowing how to answer but knowing that the cat’s hopefully coming out of the bag in the living room certainly helps him decide to tell the truth, more or less.

“Surely, you must have noticed the situation between Patton and Janus,” he runs a hand through his hair but not noticing the way Roman’s staring at him, “the opportunity to finally get everything out into the open presented itself, so I figured I would give them a hand to take it. They didn’t need an audience so…..”

Virgil shrugs. 

“Uh, duh. Even Logan without his glasses on would notice something going on there, especially lately. What with all the glares and stares being tossed around,” replies Roman.

He taps his chin then looks at Virgil.

“You know, there’s something else I wanna ask about,” he says.

Moving across the room, Roman stands close to Virgil, causing him to raise an eyebrow in response. 

“If you wanted to get me alone in your room, all you had to do was tell me. There’s no need for the dragging though with your grip, I didn’t know you like it rough,” flirts Roman.

Virgil’s jaw drops open as he blushes the same shade as Roman’s favorite color. 

“That’s not--I didn’t--you’re reading too much into this, Princey!”

Roman chuckles. 

“Then what’s been with all the staring? I know I look good, you can admit it.”

Biting his tongue, Virgil crosses his arms and refuses to respond as Roman’s gaze lingers on him and his blush only gets worse. 

“You’re too cute, Storm Cloud,” compliments Roman with a smile.

“Will. You. Shut. Up?”

Shaking his head, Roman continues to grin.

“Now why would I do that when I am getting such an adorable reaction from you?”

Uncrossing his arms, Virgil opens then closes his fists several times as irritation and something else flutters across his face causing Roman’s grin to widen in response. 

“Gah! You’re so frustrating! What am I going to do with you?” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something, handsome.”

Virgil throws his hands up in the air.

“Oh shut up already!”

Roman smirks at Virgil.

“Make me.”

Later on, Virgil would claim it was all the stress from Patton and Janus' situation that made it easier for Roman to get under his skin, not that anyone would believe him, that made him do what he did. 

Virgil reaches up, grabs Roman by the collar then pulls him down before proceeding to kiss him firmly on the lips. 

-----

Time has run out and Patton feels like he’s sweating up a storm. 

God, Janus will hate him for keeping this a secret all this time regardless of his feelings and behavior involving Roman. Why did he think not saying anything would be a good idea again?

“What is going on, Patton? Don’t say that there isn’t because I’ve noticed. I’ve wanted to ask you for awhile now,” comments Janus softly. 

All Patton wants to do is reach out and grab Janus so he doesn’t leave. Does he deserve that though? 

He runs a hand through his hair as he tries to avoid looking at Janus but he can’t keep his gaze away from his soulmate. 

“You want the truth, Janus? I’m scared to tell you but if you want to know then you deserve to know,” says Patton. 

Patton’s words stir worry and fear in Janus’ chest, that something or someone could hurt him or worse, make him lose Patton forever. Janus knows he wouldn’t be able to survive that.

Spotting the look on Janus’ face, Patton knows he’s going down the same path Roman did when he asked Patton what’s wrong so long ago.

“I’m not in danger or anything like that,” Patton rushes to comfort his soulmate, a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the thought of his soulmate caring about him even platonically, “you don’t need to worry, Janus.”

A weight drops from his shoulder and Janus relaxes his stance, smiling a relieved smile towards Patton. 

The concern still lingers. 

“Then what is it, Patton? You know you can tell me anything,” says Janus.

Gosh, this is so hard. 

“You’ll hate me for not telling you sooner and it will kill me when you stop wanting anything to do with me,” Patton admits, looking down at the floor.

Janus’ eyes widen and he stops breathing for a few moments.

There’s nothing in this world that would make him hate his sou-hate Patton and want nothing to do with him anymore. Besides, Virgil would absolutely kill Janus for upsetting Patton.

Patton takes a deep breath, knowing this is it and his life will change but whether it’s for the better or for the worse, he doesn’t know. 

No more running. 

No more keeping what they are a secret.

Patton looks up and meets Janus’ gaze, taking comfort in the smile he sent Patton. 

“You and I….we are soulmates and I’ve known since the twins’ party back in freshman year when we kissed because Roman dared us to,” he confesses.

Janus blinks then stares at Patton for a few moments.

“Oh thank God it wasn’t anything serious.”

Patton tilts his head to the side in confusion but before he says a word, Janus removes the glove from his right hand before showing his wrist to Patton.

There sits an outline of a light blue frog.

“OH!” responds Patton with a grin.

Then he frowns.

“So, you don’t hate me for not speaking up and saying something?” he asks.

Janus shakes his head.

“I wish one of us would have said something sooner, all that time wasted when we could have been together but I don’t hate you. I’ll never hate you because I love you, Patton,” he takes a few steps until he’s in front of Patton, “even before I knew we’re soulmates, I loved you.”

Staring up at Janus, Patton could tell he’s tearing up because Janus said everything he wanted to hear. 

Is this a dream?

In that moment, Janus remembers the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’ and since Patton isn’t being convinced by his words, he’ll have to show his soulmate how he feels about Patton being the one for him. 

Besides, he’s done fighting his desire to kiss Patton after all of this time.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Ripples

A/N: This was a request from @littlepigart . The ask they sent me got eaten.

Fandom: UTMV

Characters: Dream, Ink, XGaster

Warnings: none, ask to tag

Word count: 2,250

Summary: Of the people and things that Ink shows XGaster while encouraging the other to keep improving the story of his world, he brings the other to Dream, and the two have a brief chat. 

Tagslist:  @anxiety-is-married-to-depression @angelofthehalfmoon @trainwreck-of-skeletons @hisame-amadashi @therandomskelekey

"-and while I do know what it's like to be discouraged and to feel as if you're lost and nothing is going to go well... You see... As I've shown you, there are many worlds, many different stories that are told,  in endless variations. So, g when I bring you home, I hope that you understand that the story of your world is meant to unfold as it is - bright points and imperfections all in one." Ink finished, a warm smile appearing on his face as he gestured expansively to the doodlesphere, looking up at the Gaster he'd been speaking with.

The tall skeleton frowned a little, pushing his glasses so that they sat right on his face "I... There are indeed many worlds... Many timelines... I'm just.. It's staggering how many there truly are.."

"Yup~ And new worlds to appear at any time. Some are just sketches - concept worlds that are newly born. It's really exciting to watch the creator find more light, colors and life to fill them with. But each world has its’ own story. Isn't it amazing?" The creative guardian prompted with a grin.

"I... All of this is truly impressive. I'm just... I don't know if there really is anything I can do in my own world that can compare to any of these worlds… Perhaps I..." He sighs, shaking his head a little "I do not know if my imagination is not working well enough, or if I have simply hit a creative block of some kind." The Gaster responded, shaking his head a little, curling in on himself a bit. He doesn't want to tell the eager and cheerful young skeleton that he is still on the fence about destroying the world, and allowing the children to be free of suffering an imperfect story, in an imperfect world...

"Well, I know someone who will cheer you up from your slump!! He always makes me feel better, and I don't even have to constantly talk to him either. Come with me to the OT and I'll introduce you to him." Ink grinned, a strange grey door appearing before the two of them.

Before XGaster could ask where this door lead, Ink has already dragged him through it, and in a world that seems to be an odd mishmash of many timelines, multiple copies of different monsters and humans, Ink is shouting "Dreaaam? Oh Dreaaam, where are you?"

A bright yellow and blue sans alternate (as Ink was a sans alternate too) came running towards them "I’m right here, Ink. What's going on? I just finished talking to a couple of newcomers. They're settling in as well as can be expected... I just wish that there was more that could be done..."

Ink shrugged, gently patting Dream on one shoulder, answering with a shrug "It's up to the determined human, and in timelines that they come from..."

Dream winces a little and then looks over at XGaster, curious "Who's your friend, Ink?"

"Oh! This is XGaster, he comes from an... Interesting timeline. I've never seen an AU like his before, but he's feeling a little... Discouraged. He.. He's..."  Ink's eye lights are a very bright pink, the other yellow "He's... a creator."

Dream stills for a moment,  a soft gasp leaving him and the other bowed a little "O-Oh... It's... It's an honor to meet you, XGaster. Frisk - Core!Frisk that is - is the one who created this timeline."

"he's having a bit of a creative block and feeling a little blue, so I thought I'd bring him to you. YOu always seem to know what's the best thing to keep everyone positive." Ink hummed, his eye lights rapidly shifting shape and color as he spoke.

Dream nods, a determined expression appearing on his face, and he murmurs "I'm not quite sure what I can do to help encourage a creator... But I can do my best. Ink - the newcomers need housing, and they are running low on supplies. I don't suppose that you wouldn't mind making them living accomodations? They're that way..."

"Sure think, Dreamy. You take good care of XGaster while I'm gone, alright? I'll be back soon enough. Ciao~!" Ink answered back, rushing off in a blur of colors and movement.

Dream clears his nonexistent throat a little and asks quietly "So... So what in particular is upsetting you?"

"I just... I want to make sure that the world is perfect, you know? But... In the first iteration of our world, the humans turned on our ambassador, Frisk. because they couldn't age, and stayed an eternal child. I rewound the world back to the beginning and... In the next timeline, another war broke out, which we monsters won, but at a dear cost... SEveral more iterations, and things have gone wrong in some way... I can't... I can't seem to make the narrative of the story end purely happily, and I don't know how to make the story perfect... Ink says that no story is perfect and I... I understand that in theory... But I just... I want everyone to get their happy endings." XGaster sighed, frowning a little as he paced back and forth in front of the shorter skeleton. He was surprised at how... Calm he was feeling. Normally by this time he' either be yelling in frustration, or at the point of tears, or a combination of the two.

Dream looked at him for several seconds quietly before responding, voice gentle and comforting "it's quite noble of you to want to ensure the best ending possible for everyone... But if everyone had the same ending... Then would they really have different personalities? Because sure... You could take away every individual's personality and reformat them to obey you, and end up as nearly emotionless husks of their former selves... But then they wouldn't be able to reach their full potential, though technically they would be happy, or whatever emotion that you'd want them to... In my experience, there are good experiences and bad experiences. There must be a balance of both to live life to the fullest. The bad things help you grow... Or at least.... They should..." 

XGaster thought about what the other had to say - so suffering may be a necessary component of a life lived well? An odd thought... But the shorter skeleton seemed to be distressed by something "Are... Are you alright?"

"O... I'm fine. Everyone feels frustrated or... Or as if things aren't going well. But you've got to push through it. There are shadows, but there is also light. You've just got to open your eyes and grasp it. Even if it's a faint flicker of candlelight." Dream responded, flashing a bright smile at him. He fidgeted a little and asks shyly "Ink... Ink said that you're a creator... If it's not impertinent to ask... How?"

XGaster smiled a little, glad to show the other "I possess this." the OVERWRITE button glowed a bright purple beneath his hands "It allows me to create, destroy or change anything I want, however I want. The only limits are my imagination and the amount of magic I have at any one point in time, at least so far as I have found."

Dream nodded, the smile on his face fading a little as he stared into the distance, fidgeting with his hands as if he were thinking about something. "Ah...  What did Ink tell you about me?"

"That you were a friend of his who cheered him up when he was feeling down. I understand what he meant. I feel much better, thank you." XGaster responded, smiling warmly at the other, gently patting the other on one shoulder.

"Thank you... Uhm... Can you affect people or beings from other timelines, or just your own?" Dream asked curiously "and I asked about that as I... I'm... I'm the guardian of positivity. I try to encourage positive feelings in the beings of the multiverse..."

He seemed... Disquieted about something, and XGaster had a hunch there was a reason why he was asking about the nature of OVERWRITE. Nevertheless, he had no reason to not answer "Yes, I can - I helped to fix a broken door in an underswap, and healed an injured monster in a... I believe he called it a Swapfell? Ink was a bit annoyed at me, but the monster was grateful."

"I... Alright. Okay, you can... You can affect beings outside of your timeline. I... Forgive me if this is impertinent but... I have a favor to ask of you, but only if you promise to never tell anyone... Including Ink?" Dream murmurs, voice low and quavering. His smile had faded completely and the sans alternate looked very small and vulnerable.

"I'll try my best to do as you ask, and I'll keep it from Ink. What is it that you want?" XGaster asks curiously, having no idea what the young guardian might want to ask of him. 

"You... While you were with Ink... You may have noticed that there are a lot of AUs and Timelines that are... Not... Not very happy... There's a reason for that, and it's due to the fact that the... There is an imbalance of power between myself and the... The former guardian of negativity. I'm not asking you to try to correct that... I don't know if you *can* considering the nature of what happened. What I am asking you... He and I are bound together by the strings of fate." Dream pauses for a couple of moments.

The guardian seems to be very upset as he continues to speak, XGaster stays quiet as Dream starts talking again.

"If one of us dies, so does the other. I... I'd rather... I don't... I don't want to be bound to him so closely. He has become a cruel and vicious tyrant. Someone who... Who Ink and I fight against, and while I desperately want to believe that I can... That one day I can bright him back from the darkness and corruption he has stumbled into... He's been this dark, corrupted caricature of the... Of the person I have known since the moment we were first created. I'm... I'm asking you to sever that bond, in case... In case there is no way to cure that corruption and he... He needs to die. Because I... I need to be able to be alive to fix the damage that he has caused if... If he..." Dream is unable to continue speaking, having buried his hands in his face, shoulders shaking as he sobbed silently.

"If it turns out that he does need to be killed, as you may have no other choice? I have never heard of such a bond. I will attempt to sever it - if you do die in the process, I believe that I can ressurect you. I have brought back the dead in the past." XGaster responds, summoning OVERWRITE and using it to bring up Dream's code - rather surprised to find out that, among other things, this slight skeleton is over five hundred years old. He scrolls through the other's data until he finds the fate bond. He studies the code closely before inputting the information and binding it with magic, severing the life and death connection between the two of them - making sure that the dark, twisted creature Dream was up until now bound to, would not find out as the bond snapped. OVERWRITE fades from existence and Dream wakes.

"I... D-Did it work?" The centuries old guardian asked, anxious.

"Yes. You two are no longer fate bound... And the only way he will find out is if one of the two of us tell shim, and I certainly won't say anything about it. Stay safe, Dream. Thank you for your words of encouragement." Changing the code of the monsters and humans around him... He hadn't considered that until Dream had asked him to. It was something that was definitely worth thinking more about. 

The positive spirit tackled him and hugged him tightly, a wide, bright smile appearing on his face as Dream murmured "Thank you... Thank you so much! You... You have no idea how much of a weight has been lifted off of my shoulders."

"we all have our burdens to bear, and battles to fight. You have helped me a great deal, and I am glad to have been able to help you in kind." XGaster responded, a small smile appearing on his face. he's surprised that he can so deeply affect the nature of someone so critical to the balance of the multiverse. This power of his is something that he very much needed to put forethought into, and move with cautious careful care... Experiment bit by bit, to see just what and how much he could do, to ensure that he had his perfect story.

Ink pops up just as the two of them stop hugging, and asks "How are you feeling, XGaster?"

"Much better. I can understand why you like Dream quite a bit. He is certainly quite inspiring. I believe I am ready to go home and continue crafting the story as it should be." XGaster murmured with a warm smile, dozens of ideas from the many worlds he had visited - and from what he'd learned from Dream - floating through his mind. He'd be sure to mute the fear, hatred and distress the monsters and humans could feel. The last thing he needed was for Nightmare to find him.

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: A Vested Interest

Daltonfic Big Bang: Week 3, Day 5, Dwodd 

Ryan Cobb still didn’t know about his desk chair, so money was still up for grabs. Nice.

“Fuck off!” Derek yelled, looking across the large, white and glass hallway of the Ohio Brooks Parker Galleria Mall to the Hot Topic.

“What is it?” Bailey asked, not turning from his sink full of dishes. He was up to his elbows in coffee mugs and dessert-stained plates. “Is Sebastian coming up to ask for another job application?”

“Shut up Bailey, you know it’s only because he thinks Julian’s hot, not because he wants to work here. And no; it’s not that asshole.” Derek gestured across the hallway; Bailey couldn’t see it because he still had his back turned, uncaring. “It’s that fucking asshole and his boyfriend!”

“Who?”

“You know, the assistant manager and that hipster guy!”

“Oh Dwight?” Bailey asked. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re fucking again!”

Bailey made an amused noise. “Good for them.”

“Good for them!?” Derek exclaimed, “What the hell does that mean?”

“Well, if you could get laid at work you would.” Bailey said, hiding his laughter. “I’m glad you don’t for the record; I don’t want to clean that up, but it’s a little funny.”

“Exactly- how is it that the goth who isn’t even in charge of that place is getting laid and I’m here in a fucking Starbucks like a loser?”

While Derek was ranting, he was ignoring the girl at the register. Bailey shot her a look, commiserating before drying his hands to take her order.

“And if we’re really splitting hairs here Bailey, shouldn’t he, I don’t know? Be doing his job? Instead of letting his little hipster boyfriend fuck him in the changerooms?”

Bailey rolled his eyes, grabbing a larger sized cup for their customer and waving her panicked look aside. It was the least he could do since she was putting up with Derek’s ranting.

“Jeez, Derek if it bothers you so much, just join in our betting pool and you at least could make some money off it.” Bailey said, steaming the milk like it was just another normal day. Which, working with Derek for at long as he had, it kind of was.

“Betting pool?”

Their customer interjected, “I’m from the Barnes and Noble next door; we’ve got it going with us, Clay and the boys in the store, Bailey and y’all, and then then Chels and the Pet Co. downstairs for how long it’ll take the manager to catch them.”

“All those people know? And Ryan still hasn’t figured it out?” Derek asked, confounded.

She shrugged, “Yeah, well, Pet Co. was waiting for the two month mark to send Ryan upstairs at the right moment; but Todd and Dwight were just talking; I’m thinking Clay ran interference so the bet’s still going.”

Derek looked caught between anger and intrigue. He looked at her with a scowl before, “Put me down for fifty bucks on two weeks from now. Ryan’s not an idiot, he’ll realize.”

“Not if he spends all his time downstairs with the fish tanks.” Bailey pointed out.

“Why is he even managing a Hot Topic if he loved animals so much?”

“He’d never sell anything if he worked downstairs, that’s why.” Their customer pointed out, wandering back to the Barnes and Noble with her drink. “Good luck boys!”

Oh it’s on, Derek thought, not realizing how difficult a task it would actually be to accomplish.

---

Two months of this nonsense aside, Dwight Houston had not set out to completely disregard professionalism and decorum when he got this throwaway job at the mall. His mother raised him better than that- or so she kept saying. He was only here for the sole purpose of keeping his car and proving he was responsible- nothing more. If he had enough knowledge of alternative culture to tell people why Hot Topic was the worst place to shop, that wasn’t his problem. He was merely the solution.

When Todd Hendricks, or “Hipster Guy” as he referred to him for the first two weeks in his head, walked in, there was no master plan to get back at his manager for promoting him in this insanity. No, it was only a short conversation, based around Todd’s utter incompetence.

“If she’s a real goth, she will not want anything we sell here. This is emo shit, New Oracle in Glensdale is the real space for crystals. This is just plastic and Yellow 33!” Dwight shook the fake silver jewellery at the customer and his wide rimmed glasses, plaid shirt, and rough, red scarf. “Your sister will not like this.”

“But that’s why it’s funny. Because it’s not authentic.” The customer (who would be known as Todd) said. “She’ll hate it and it’ll be hilarious.”

“It’s offensive! You say she’s a witch, then it’s doubly offensive.” Dwight said, motioning to put the piece back up on the highest shelf with the pole hook.

“I’m her brother, she’ll know it’s a joke.” He argued. “I’m not here to rock your goth purist boat.”

“I am not a goth,” Dwight said, putting the offending piece out of reach. “I am a post-industrial punk with spiritualist leanings; its completely different.”

“Sure.” Was the response, grinning like he’d not proven anything.

Dwight groaned, “Clay, back me up here; the Vampire Diaries spinoff jewellery is not something we should be promoting to any self-respecting goth.”

His part-timer, Clay Rizzo, poked out from behind the piercing display where he totally wasn’t trying to steal new lip rings. “I don’t know Dwight; I am one of those emo pieces of shit, so maybe I’d recommend it?”

“I get no support around here!” Dwight said, stalking to the back of the store. “Impossible!”

Todd looked over to the part-timer, decked in the unofficial uniform of all black and a hundred emo-band pins. “I think I’m dropping by more often.”

Clay gave him an evil grin. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

---

From there it escalated; Todd coming in multiple times a week just to annoy Dwight. Well, that’s what Dwight assumed until Todd asked for his phone number.

“What? Why’d you want that?”

Todd looked at him like he was an idiot. “Because I’ve been flirting with you this whole time? Were you not…”

Clay, unknown to the two of them, was watching with Robin and Jake from behind the t-shirts. They were supposed to be executing the planogram; but why do that when there was drama to observe?

“I was not.” Dwight said robotically. “Uh, okay, that’s…”

“I literally looped a tie around your neck and pulled you in, and you didn’t realize I was into you?”

Clay, who remembered that exchange, had to be smothered with a Haven shirt but Jake to stop him from making noise.

“In my defence, I’m not used to people flirting with me.”

“If you’re not interested, that’s fine. I just thought-”

“I’m not not interested?” Dwight interjected before Todd turned away and walked out. “I’m just, uh, not used to … this?”

“I can work with that.”

It somehow progressed, in spite of Dwight’s inherent awkwardness. Jake, Robin, Jasper, and Clay respectively waving the pair off whenever Dwight took his lunch break now.

“They grow up so fast.” Clay said dramatically while Dwight gave him the finger. Todd just smiled at his conspirator and told them to take care of the store. Not that he worked there. He was there often enough he’d take to reminding Dwight about stock orders, schedules, and that Jake had a family dinner coming up so someone had to get it covered. The store had never run so well as it did when Todd started dating their assistant manager.

---

“Where did you guys put the Manic Panic?” Ryan Cobb, actual manager of Hot Topic, called out from the stockroom. “There should be a packing slip for a 3 pack of each colour, but all I see is overstock of those short-shorts!”

“I don’t know, ask Jake,” Dwight said, standing on a step ladder with Jasper spotting him. “He was in last night when the delivery came in.”

“I’m asking you. How can you be my assistant manager and not know where the hair dye is? We have that Chang girl coming in later and I promised her we’d have her order in!” Ryan called. “I’m going on break, that dye should be on the shelf when I get back.”

Ryan left, once again for supposedly fifteen minutes- but the entire staff knew he’d be gone for the rest of the day downstairs to play with the parakeets Pet Co. just got in.

“Oh, you’re in trouble.” Robin said, amused.

“Shut up.” Dwight muttered. “I bet Jake just put them somewhere weird. Call him and see what’s going on.”

“I’ll call him. He told me nothing came in last night though.”

“Perfect, just fucking perfect.” Dwight groaned.  

“What’s wrong?” Todd asked, coming in with a cardboard tray of drinks. “I just saw Ryan go by, if he’s actually in the store for any minute I’m scared the place will burst into flames.”

“Once in a blue moon, it happens I guess.” Dwight admitted, climbing down the ladder to receive his kiss on the cheek and the green tea Todd brought for him.

“What’s happening?” Todd asked, taking his own coffee off the tray and pushing the sugar-laden third and fourth cups to the part-timers he’d been subtly converting to his side. Jasper particularly grabbed his eagerly, gushing thank yous.

“Jake might have lost a delivery.” Dwight paused, “Or not? I don’t know about the warehouse, but they’ve been fucking up recently anyways. I swear I can’t find last night’s order but the stockroom does look like shit…”

“You have a computer? There should be a record of orders received and rejected? I know not everyone still does things hard copy.” Todd suggested.

“It’s in the manager’s office!” Robin volunteered. “Not that we’re allowed in there. It’s for Ryan and Dwight only.”

“Well, they can’t fire me so I don’t care about that rule.” Todd said, taking a sip of his coffee and beelining to the back room.

Dwight scrambled to follow him. “No! No! No customers in the back!”

“Oh come on, if Ryan’s going to get mad at you about it then I might as well try to help.” Todd said, finding the tiny room easily and placing himself in the desk chair like he owned the place. “Password’s hottopic123, very creative, not hacking proof at all.”

“It’s a formality, that’s why it’s on the post-it.” Dwight grumbled, reluctant to admit he was grateful for the help.

“Okay, well according to your emails it’s right there. They’re not sending it because of the USPS strike. I don’t know why Ryan didn’t notice that.” Todd said after a few open tabs and a control+f.

“Oh that’s why.” Dwight grumbled, pointing to the open tabs on tanks for tropical fish. “He was distracted.”

“Why is he in charge of a Hot Topic if he doesn’t want to even work here?” Todd asked, looking through the pages. “Like, if you’re desperate you could work for the raptor sanctuary; they’re hiring.”

“Wait, you know the raptor sanctuary?” Dwight asked, intrigued. “I have an owl there.”

“I’m sponsoring Rowena, the prairie-”

“Merlin.” Dwight finished. “Yeah, she’s the one who the workers are teaching how to do the flight tricks right?”

“Yeah.” Todd paused, “You’re Castiel’s sponsor? I thought that name was stupid.”

“It’s not stupid! It’s a good name!” Dwight said before realizing Todd was joking with him. “Oh, okay.”

“So, if Ryan is going to ignore the email in his inbox in favour of spending all his time at Pet Co. I propose we do something to get him back.” Todd said, spinning around in the chair and closing the door to the office. It was more like a cupboard with how much room there was.

Dwight looked at him suspiciously. “What do you mean?”

Todd locked the door, “You’ll see.”

---

Robin wasn’t sure what was happening until he went to knock on the door and heard it. Shit. Maybe Dwight was cool.

First thing he did was tell Jake over the phone, who told Jasper, who told Clay- who told literally the entire mall by the time he’d made it in for his closing shift.

“Who knew the dude had it in him.” Jake said, punching in, careful to give the office door a lot of room. “I mean, I would do that but Dwight’s always struck me as a bit of a-”

“A nerd?” Jasper supplied.

“I’m so proud of my dads.” Clay said, already on the top of a stepladder switching out t-shirts. “Like, I can’t use that office so I don’t give a shit- but it’s also hilarious. How long do you think it takes Ryan to notice?”

“First, they’re not your dads.” Jake said.

“Todd gave me a gold star for my pins last week, they’re my dads.” Clay said, half joking, but mostly trying to annoy Jake.

“Okay, fine. Secondly, Ryan isn’t going to notice shit. If he hasn’t notice you’ve been stealing lip rings to wear while at work he is not going to notice Dwight’s boyfriend fucked him in the office.”

“Or did Dwight fuck him?” Jasper asked.

“I don’t care.” Jake dismissed the comment. “Either way, it’ll be, like a year before Ryan realizes something is up.”

Clay grinned, “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

“You’re on.”

The pot, by the time Pet Co., Barnes and Noble, Starbucks, and Radio Shack got in on the action, was somewhere around $400. The only ones unaware, were the couple in question and Ryan Cobb.

---

“Shit, Clay! This isn’t what it looks like.” Dwight said hurriedly, Clay pulling open the curtain to the change rooms enough to poke his head in.

“Really? Because it looks like you’re just passionately embracing Todd.” Clay shrugged, “I could be wrong.”  

Todd would have normally made a quip back, but he was too close to reply. “Uh, not a good time.”

“Well, you’ve got almost no time at all for this quickie because Ryan is on his way back. AKA, he’s on the elevator and if you’re here balls deep-“

“I will curse you so hard-”

“You’re already hard, I get it. Put some pants on, wrap it up.” Clay said, flipping the curtain closed. At least the two of them were polite enough to not make any of the part-timers do cleaning duties on these occasions.

Either way, Clay has a vested interest in not alerting Ryan right now. The pot was up to $800 now, and he would need that for next semester’s books. College was expensive.

---

In the end, it wasn’t Ryan who caught them; it was the night security guard who got them outside in Dwight’s ridiculously out of date Chevy. With an ‘indecent exposure’ strike on his record, Ryan had to let Dwight go. The betting pool wasn’t sure if this meant the bet was on, or off.

The next week, when he found Todd wandering past the Hot Topic to the men’s bathrooms with one lanky, gothic boyfriend in tow- he shot Todd a thumbs up and informed the rest of the mall the game was still on.

Ryan Cobb still didn’t know about his desk chair, so money was still up for grabs. Nice.

[dotthings]

SPN 14.20 HOLY F*CKING I AM BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS HERE THAT WAS A GOOD. And a great set-up for S15.

*SNAPS FINGERS*

Let me try for some coherency. I scribbled watching notes.

Cas. :( Well I am not a bit surprise he’s not own with this. I don’t see how else he’s supposed to feel. Or how else Dean would feel. Or how Sam would feel. Sorry if TFW is so inexplicable to some people but they’re all making perfect sense to me. It’s sad but they make sense.

That Dean and Cas argument with Sam in the middle like :0 :| poor Sam, poor poor Sam, imagine having to watch all this intense Dean and Cas, he hates it when they bicker, and this is a real argument. 

“I know how much he meant to you. He meant a lot to me. But that isn’t Jack any more.” So there it is, the truth beneath Dean’s walls he put up. None of this is because Dean is cold or uncaring. He is, however, still very angry and still (thinks) that he has to kill Jack. The place Dean lands with Jack in this ep also doesn’t surprise me because I been knew and that makes sense too but it also makes sense that right up the line, he’d think he has to kill Jack and follow that anger. This is an extraordinary situation in fact. Even though TFW have been faced with not-versions of themselves before, they’ve never killed another family member while in that state. And I think Jack’s escalating danger levels in this ep pretty much vindicates why someone might think he has to be killed...even though Jack isn’t evil or malicious still (more on that in a moment).

“Nerds.” “Takes one to know one.”

I was just talking about this about Dean. About his facades and how he used to mock nerds and geeks--still does even now--but is actually the biggest geek and I love that Sam calls him on his nerd qualities. His nerd traits. WHAT HAVE I BEEN SAYING.

So nobody at all can lie any more and the world, as a result, starts tearing apart at the seams. Look SPN, when I said I wanted more emotional honesty...lololol that’s not what I meant. Some lies are necessary.

Oh my god it’s God. Hi, Chuck. (I was spoiled for this, it was still really fun when Chuck just popped up in the alley).

“Jack. He’s a problem.” NO REALLY I HADN’T NOTICED YOU DON’T SAY

Cas was going to see about the cage in Hell. Was he thinking he could put Jack in it?? Was that his alternative to just killing him? 

Jack visiting his grandmother and she calling Jack out on the fact that he lied to them. Oh snap, Jack. You’re sick of all the lies but you told one (for a kindness). Some lies are necessary. You lied to people too.

This episode has some realness here about what holds society together and different types of honesty. Lying is wrong...except 100% blunt honestly all the time would be a complete disaster and there are some lies we need to tell for the sake of kindness, for community, for forgiveness, or it all will fall apart. Which lies are too far and which are necessary. Can a lie hurt but also be for a kindness and be necessary? SPN has had its main characters lie for years. They lie with credit card scams so they can pay for gas and food and lodging. They lie about who they’re secretly working with behind each other’s backs. All of Team Free Will has lied to each other. Kept things from each other. It doesn’t go well for them. Yet here’s an ep showing that some types of lies are necessary as part of the fabric of society.

Dean is sooooo done with God’s bullshit I am laughing. This is also really subversive because yes we love Chuck and his guitar. Chuck singing Fare-thee-Well. Chuck as a likeable (if irresponsible deadbeat dad) figure on SPN. But how benevolent is he actually? And they don’t have time for a song right now, they just don’t.

Team Free Will are still speaking to each other after Cas stormed out. That’s a good sign!

“I built the sandbox. You play in it...but when things get really bad that’s when I step in.”

Uh...kinda. Sometimes, Chuck. Yes he’s intervened a few times. He put Sam and Dean on the airplane. He put Cas back together more than once. He stepped up when he needed do about Amara at the end of S11. So maybe a C+ on actually being there in a pinch.

“Jack is apocalyptic.” Which--self-evident right there in the ep, thanks, Chuck. Oh and can we stop pretending Jack isn’t incredibly dangerous at least? Oh he’s not just dangerous he is world-endingly dangerous. Note I rooted for Jack to be okay, and want him to be saved, but the situation is what it is right now.

It made a lot of sense to spec based on the ep title Chuck was going to show up to intervene and stop TFW from having to kill Jack, and I’m sure with a reference that blatant in that title, Dabb knew that would be the assumption. It made sense. The overturning of that is interesting here. Chuck didn’t show up and didn’t show up and when he finally does it’s to hand them the weapon to destroy Jack. Which at this point in the ep I’m still wondering--but it could be a test. Let’s see what happens.

Oh. Whoever shoots the gun, what happens to the target, happens to them. Aaaand we’re back to Dean with a self-sacrificing plan.

Damn Cas is so damn salty still about the Dean-in-the-box plan I love it. He hates that plan. Now he’s extra special plus cranky because he’s looking now at losing Jack and losing Dean simultaneously. I’ve talked a lot in my posts about Cas’s big love for both Jack and Dean. This is diabolical. Cas could lose them both with one gunshot. Of course he doesn’t want his son to die...but he doesn’t want Dean to die. Save Jack...means saving Dean too. 

I really loved this Sam and Dean scene and while Cas doesn’t get to verbalize what’s going on in his head, Sam certainly gets to vocalize what Sam’s thinking. “I’m the one who brought him back. He burned his soul off to save you and me. You want me to say I’m okay with losing you and losing him all at once. I can’t do that. I’ve already lost too much.” MIC DROP SAM WINCHESTER.

“I don’t feel anything.” There’s the crux of the Jack Problem. He intellectually understands what’s “good” and what’s “bad” but he doesn’t, in his own words, feel it. He’s the most powerful being on the planet and he’s completely hollow inside, lacking true empathy, lacking instincts, strong attachments, an innate sense of right and wrong. That’s...really terrifying. It’s really not at all hateful to Jack to comprehend how scary that combination is. “I want to love you back, it’s just I can’t.” 

This is. Damn. We saw AU Cas in ep 300, what happens when Cas never learned to access his emotions. As an angel, our Cas was taught that emotions were bad, they were a weakness. He was taught not to heed them. To control them. To never be led by his heart or his feelings. But instead of heeding that, Cas led with his whole heart, he often drowned in his own emotions, overwhelmed by them. He has intense attachments and pain and loneliness and fear and even moments of peace and joy. He feels it all. He’s the most feeling angel to ever feel, and how painfully on point is it that his son is now...emotionless.

“You’re my favorite show.” Wow it got super meta in here, Chuck.

“Why does it always have to be on us,” wonders the tormented characters. “Because you’re my guys!” gushes the enthusiastic Winchester fan, God.

I feel so called out right now. I do. While I am certainly in the camp that feels that too much torture porn angst without hope is a weaker story, like many fans, there is a certain catharsis and satisfaction in watching our favorite characters suffer and triumph and keep on going and not let the suffering defeat them.

In this ep Dabb is taking that idea and expanding it out to a walking talking metaphor, embodied in Chuck, who turns out to be a toxic wielder of suffering for his own amusement. Tying to Jack’s lack of emotions, Chuck seems okay with others suffering. It’s not that he lacks feelings, because he gets something from watching these “characters” suffer, but he’s lacking in empathy because he doesn’t seem to care that they’re suffering and in the world of SPN these are not characters, these are real people he’s jerking around making them dance to his angst-buttons for his own enjoyment.

Cas still is clinging on to hope that Jack can be fixed and my heart hurts for him. At this point, I’m still hoping Jack can be...but it’s not looking good.

Jack kneeling in front of Dean to be killed. Because while he’s dangerous, no he’s not evil or malicious. “I understand. You were right all along. I am a monster.” This is just...really sad. I’m sad.

Oh, SPN, you tried so hard, but I never thought Dean would be able to pull that trigger. Also the tragedy of Dean--he didn’t hesitate because Dean had a sudden revelation he wants to live so he’s not going to seppuku the problem after all. No, it’s because he just couldn’t do it to Jack in the end, to his son, who had earned his love and his trust after a rough start. Dean understands that this Jack isn’t the Jack he recently knew and Dean also understands how far gone Jack is and how dangerous. Yet he still can’t do it. This makes perfect sense to me. I could also see how he might have pulled that trigger (and that would have been horrible and it would have hurt Dean so much...and I don’t just mean because of the magic ricochet of that gun...it would be too much. And...it looks like this ep agrees with me on a textual and meta-textual level. Uh-huh.)

"This isn’t how this story is supposed to end.” Chuck, our author, isn’t enjoying the fact that his characters are doing things he didn’t plan on and didn’t intend (which happens during the creative process).

“Pull the trigger and I’ll bring her back,” Chuck offers. “No.” says Dean. “My mom is my hero and I will miss her every day of my life but she wouldn’t want this.”

And then Sam goes OFF. “over and over and over again...losing people we love.”

“This isn’t just a story. This is our lives.”

I am LOVING THIS. I actually clapped my hands with meta-ish glee. 

THE CHARACTERS ARE REBELLING AGAINST SPN’S OWN RELIANCE ON MISERY PORN AND I AM LIVING.

This is so self-critical. On a story/character level, this is amazing for Sam and Dean, who are defying fate, refusing yet again to be jerked around by a cosmic puppetmaster. Sam goes as far as defying the idea that they don’t deserve to be happy. Not in so many words. But he is flipping off the concept that all they are good for is suffering AND I AM SO PROUD and I think Dean gets it too but oh my poor Dean was just willing to commit seppuku and while Dean is rejecting being puppetted around, not for anyone, not even to save Mary, I don’t know if he’s at the place where he sees it how Sam does--that screw you, I don’t deserve to suffer like this open defiance. 

So Sam shoots God. lololol for a hot second there I thought Sam was going to kill God and welp that would have been a plot twist but no, just a flesh wound so Sam is wounded too.

Chuck’s not thrilled his favorite human pets aren’t playing along for his amusement.

“Story’s over. Welcome to the end.”

LIGHTS OUT.

Well. God was the big bad all along. GOD WAS THE BIGGEST BAD OF SPN ALL ALONG.

I was hoping Jack wouldn’t have to die. At least none of his dads had to kill him and the set-up with Jack landing in The Empty seems like he’s not gone forever. WHAT DID BILLIE MEAN “WE HAVE TO TALK.” About what. What is going on.

WHAT IS HAPPENING

IS THAT LA LLARONA

THAT’S BLOODY FREAKIN’ MARY

HOLY CRAP THE SOULS OF THEIR EARLIEST CASES ARE RISING FROM HELL

ALL THE SOULS ARE RISING FROM HELL

WE ALL SPECCED HEAVEN WOULD BREAK AND THE SOULS IN HEAVEN WOULD GET LOSE AND INSTEAD IT WAS ALL THE SOULS FROM HELL THIS IS AWESOME

SAM AND DEAN AND CAS!! TEAM FREE WILL ARE BACK TO BACK TOGETHER IN THE DARKNESS SURROUNDED BY ZOMBIES I WISHED FOR A MOMENT LIKE THIS FOR YEARS. TEAM FREE F*CKING WILL. ALSO A FINALE THAT HAD ALL THREE OF THEM UNITED. THANK DABB.

[dragonsaphirareads]

I Am Creativity (Chapter 2/5)

Crossposted on AO3 under the same name! A/N - This fic includes my theory/hc for what the orange side will be (Passion/Obsession). I don’t elaborate too much on him, but just to clarify, that’s who he is. 

The spectators watched as a bell rang and the timer started counting down. The twins sprinted to their respective towers, creating things out of thin air as they went. As they would expect, Roman’s army consisted of knights dressed in shining white armor and various mythical creatures. They couldn’t see Remus’s side as clearly, but what they could see was eldritch abominations with too many eyes and too many limbs.

Patton had curled his knees up to his chest, covering his eyes and peeking through his fingers to block out Remus’s creations, which made him sick to his stomach. Virgil and Logan were both leaning forward, fixated on the viewing screens for very different reasons.

“This is bad, this is bad, this is bad, this is bad…” Virgil kept repeating, breaths coming quicker. Logan leaned over and put his hand over Virgil’s, tapping out a 4-7-8 rhythm to try and keep him calm.

“He will be fine, Virgil. He’s Creativity, he’s stronger than any of us are here. This is his domain – I’m confident he will be victorious.” His voice was calm, but Virgil knew his heart was racing just as fast as his own.

“Don’t lie to me. You didn’t live with Remus, Logan, he’s… demented. Just look at what he’s coming up with!”

“And Roman is doing the same. They both operate on the same rules, Virgil, and one of those is that the Imagination is just that – imaginative. It’s not real.”

A wet roar echoed across the field, as well as a high-pitched laugh from Remus’s side of the field. Three minutes had already passed.

“Oh god oh god oh god!” Virgil felt his heart jump into his throat and he quickly covered his ears and closed his eyes, blocking out all images and trying to keep his own imagination under control. He needed to calm down – Thomas would have a panic attack at this rate, and considering his host wasn’t actually doing anything to deserve it, he really didn’t want it to come to that.

He felt arms around his shoulders and a chin resting on his head. When he opened his eyes, Virgil saw light blue and looked up to see Patton standing behind his chair, hugging him from behind. He was smiling, but his eyes were watering and lip quivering.

“It’s ok, Virgil. Roman’s so strong, he’ll win this without even a scratch!” Patton’s voice cracked at the end, and he swallowed and pushed his smile wider.

“Patton…”

“So don’t worry, ok? Remember, he’s just as powerful as we think he is – if we believe in him, then he can win!”

Virgil looked back at the field. Five minutes left, and there were now dozens of different creations on both sides. He changed a look at the viewing screen and saw Roman inside his tower, fortifying the doors with metal bars and hulking, armored guards. He was concentrating, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, but what really confused Virgil was that Roman seemed to be… smiling?

“He looks like he’s having fun.” Logan remarked calmly. “Perhaps we should just sit back and enjoy the fruits of Roman’s hard work.”

Patton sighed, nodding. “You’re… probably right.”

Virgil’s hand shot out and grabbed Patton’s before he could return to his own chair. “Um… stay?” The anxious side tapped on the chair and it shifted into a large, plush bean bag more than big enough for two. Patton smiled and plopped down beside Virgil, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“We can cheer him on together.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“And you didn’t know this before?”

Deceit sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I thought there was still a little common sense left in that twisted head of his. I was clearly wrong.”

Obsession tilted his head, glancing over at the field and surveying the multitudes of disgusting creatures that were standing on Remus’s side, growling and slobbering everywhere. “And we both know how well you take to being wrong.”

Deceit glared at him out of the corner of his eye. “And you do?”

“I don’t sulk in my room for days when I don’t get my way.”

“No, you just throw yourself into the next show and fill your brain with garbage.”

Obsession just laughed, stretching his arms high into the air and laying back on the blanket, blades of grass tickling his arms through the thin material. “Just ‘cause you don’t see the genius in what I do doesn’t change the fact that Thomas loves it when I do my job. Unlike someone else I know.” He closed his eyes against the bright sun, soaking in the warmth that never made its way into their corner of the mind. Deceit growled and said things Obsession was sure were very pleasant words for him under his breath.

“Besides, who said you were wrong?”

“What? Have you been paying attention?”

“Have you? Deceit, as much as you love to think you’re the only one who can plot and plan… you’re not.”

Deceit stared at his fellow dark side, unconvinced. “When has Remus thought about or planned anything? He does whatever he wants, when he wants.”

Obsession sighed, rolling his eyes. He propped himself up on one elbow and stared at Deceit. “What would you call this, then?” The orange clad side waved towards the field, where they could see Remus ducking behind various barricades and creating new monsters.

“What’s your point?” Deceit narrowed his eyes. Obsession shrugged.

“Just that, maybe you shouldn’t underestimate him so much. Don’t forget, I’ve known him a lot longer than you have, and I knew him as a kid. Let me tell you… he’s a lot smarter than you seem to think he is.”

“If you’re so smart, why don’t you tell me what he’s really planning, then?” Deceit asked sarcastically. “Since you can clearly read his mind and all that. What’s the point of fighting a battle you know you can’t win?”

Obsession yawned, glancing at the clock. Thirty seconds to go. From what he understood, as soon as the timer hit zero, it would be an all-out battle royale. They couldn’t create anything past the time, relying only on their current creations. On Remus’s side was a huge, fleshy dragon with eyes all over his body, two heads and two sets of wings curled up on the top of his tower, puffing out black smoke from its nostrils. The rest of his army seemed to follow a similar theme; nothing that Obsession could see had the correct number of limbs.

Roman, on the other hand, had gone with a strength in numbers strategy. There were hundreds of white knights covering every inch of his side. The side himself was standing on the roof of his tower, head tilted up to watch the timer count down to zero.

“Maybe… winning for Roman, and winning for Remus, means two different things.”

Before Deceit could ask what he meant by that, a sharp bell rang out over the field, and the real fight began.

~~~

Looking over the battlefield as the fight began, Roman felt confident. Sure, the monsters his brother had come up with were disgusting, and the dragon on his tower was terrifying, but he outnumbered his brother’s army 5 to 1. They were smaller, yes, but that meant they were faster and quieter. Not to mention they could hide.

His hand hovered over his own sword hilt, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice. He had guards stationed around the tower and within the stairs themselves, but he couldn’t trust that to protect him.

There was an ear-splitting screech from above him and he drew his sword just as a multi-headed falcon dived at him, effectively cutting itself in two as it attacked. It fell to the ground with a plop, and exploded into black dust.

Like he was saying, he had to be on guard. He glanced at the screen he’d conjured to monitor his own troops. Most were engaged with monsters triple their size, and there was white dust covering the grass. He pursed his lips as one of the creatures, something that resembled an armadillo if an armadillo had metal plating and was the size of a small house, grabbed one of his knights and threw it in its mouth, chopping down like it was a savory snack.

He hoped his friends would be able to handle watching this. Logan would probably find it fascinating, but all of this would be distressing for Patton and Virgil. He only hoped they knew that this was completely fake – if the dust their creations exploded into when they died didn’t make that clear. It was no different than a movie. The only person on his team who could feel any pain or get hurt was himself.

Maybe that was what they were worried about.

Roman tensed as he heard a ferocious roar split the air and saw the two headed dragon lift off from Remus’s tower. The beat of its wings flattened the grass underneath the tower, and as it took off the left head unhinged its jaw and sprayed a battalion of his knights with a thick, inky black substance.

“Ugh, leave it to him…” Roman muttered, gagging. Then the right head opened its maw and fire came spilling out. The black liquid covering his knights caught, and within moments they were nothing but dust, mixed with the oil-like substance to create a nasty gray goop.

Roman sucked in a breath through his teeth, and then saw the dragon turn its body towards his tower. “Nope, nope, nope!” He chanted, sprinting to the edge of the tower. Going down the stairs was too slow and too dangerous. Thankfully, the prince knew to always have an alternate escape route.

The creative side ran to a parapet where there were thick lengths of vine tied to the stone, dangling all the way to the ground. He grabbed the gloves he’d conjured for this very situation and slipped them on, then swung his leg over the edge and gripped the vine tightly. The dragon flew overhead and nearly blew him away with the strength of its wings, but he held fast. It made another pass as he was sliding down, and more oil spilled out of the left head’s mouth. It splattered all over him and steamed on his skin.

Worst of all, the oil got onto the vine and underneath his gloves. He started sliding faster, his grip faltering, and as the dragon got ready to torch him, he lost it altogether.

Roman landed hard on his back, and his lungs seized at the impact. The prince forced himself to his feet, gasping for air as the oil on the tower was lit up and he was forced to run to avoid the same fate.

He clutched his side as he ran. He didn’t think he’d broken a rib, but he certainly would have a nasty bruise. One of many to come, he’d wager. Roman ran to the side of the tower where he’d created a small oasis to house one of his secret weapons.

~~~

Remus had a wide, manic smile on his face. God, he hasn’t had this much fun in forever! He watched the flames consume Roman’s tower, and sent his dragon after him. He couldn’t see which direction his brother had run off in, but that didn’t matter too much to a fire breathing dragon. He’d burn the whole area down if he needed to – he would just return it to normal after the fight.

Then he caught something on the wind. A sound floating in the air - a song. He could barely hear it, but Remus noticed that his dragon was shaking its heads in confusion, trying to get away from whatever it was hearing. He tried to call it back, but his control had lapsed and it wouldn’t listen to him. The creature raged, spewing oil and fire into the sky before crashing against the force field surrounding their arena and exploding into dust.

Silence fell over the field, and the twins realized that this round was over, with both left standing. They reconvened in the center after they cleared their areas of all leftover debris.

Remus crossed his arms and looked Roman over smugly. “You’ve lost your touch. You didn’t even manage a single hit on me!”

Roman huffed, keeping a hand on his hip to try and subtly keep pressure on his side without letting his brother know he was hurt. “Neither did you. Are you even trying? That was such a boring round, I nearly fell asleep!”

“Oh, alright, then let’s make things quick! Ten minutes, and this time it won’t be a warmup!” Remus cheered, pointing at the clock above them and resetting the time, which immediately started counting down. Roman squawked in protest but Remus just laughed and ran off, leaving the prince standing there with his side aching and the clock ticking down.

“What are you doing, Princey? Move!!” He heard Virgil’s voice scold him in his head, and that jolted him enough to head back to his own tower, newly reformed, and come up with another plan of attack.

~~~

“He looks tired...” Patton said quietly, watching through the screen as Roman went about preparing for the second round. “He’s holding his side... do you think he’s hurt?”

“He did fall a distance when escaping from the tower, it’s possible he’s injured one or more of his ribs.”

The moral side let out a strangled cry, cupping his hands over his mouth to try and keep it in. Virgil stared at the back of Logan’s head with wide eyes. “Logan, do you even care?!”

“Of course I do. But Roman did very well in that last round. He ended it with a tie, and now he surely has a better idea of Remus’s strategies. Now he’s able to incorporate that knowledge into this next round.”

“That’s all good in theory, but look at him! He doesn’t exactly look like he’s up for another fall from the tower!” Virgil pointed at the screen, where Roman was leaning up against a tree, eyes closed and chest heaving.

“Creating takes energy. But the same goes for his opponent. I’m sure Remus is just as tired as Roman is.”

“Yeah but, Logan, he might hurt himself if he’s too tired. Can’t we just... stop this?”

“I doubt either of them would allow that at this point. We simply need to... ride it out, so to speak. And provide him support from here.”

Patton whined, shifting to bury his face against Virgil’s neck. Virgil patted his shoulder awkwardly, watching in silence as Roman ducked in and out of view on the screen. Instead of a relatively open field like he’d made before, now he was growing a thick forest with a canopy so thick it cast dark shadows across the creative side’s face.

“What is he doing? Remus literally made a fire-breathing dragon last time, that forest is just going to burn!” Virgil said, crossing his arms. As he said it, Roman stumbled and fell, to loud gasps. There wasn’t sound from their viewing screens, but as the creative side stood back up they could hear him shouting and cursing in his Disney way as water dripped down his face and his clothes were soaking wet.

“I believe he’s already thought of that, Virgil.”

Despite himself, the anxious side couldn’t help but snicker.

“Idiot.”

~~~

Remus shifted his weight back and forth, tapping the handle of his morningstar impatiently. The time was nearly out, but he hadn’t seen his brother emerge from the dense forest he’d created.

He cocked his head and the corners of his mouth twitched into a devious grin. So, he wanted to play hide and seek? That was fine with him – he’d just have to smoke him out.

The timer hit zero and the signal blared. Remus raised an arm and shouted, sending his misshapen, vaguely humanoid army running forward. He heard cries of shock and disgust from the sidelines and smirked – they just didn’t appreciate the human body in its most natural form!

Remus put his fingers to his mouth and let out a shrill whistle, and after a moment the buzz of huge insect wings echoed from behind him. Without even looking, he hopped onto the giant dragonfly and lifted into the air, leading the charge towards the forest.

An unstable laugh ripped its way from his chest and Remus relished this feeling, of the adrenaline rushing through his veins and the wind tearing his hair every which way. He pointed down at the center of the forest and his mount rained fire onto the lush greenery below. The trees caught instantly, and Remus laughed as they turned from green to pure black, fading into dust and ash in their air. His brother was down there somewhere, and he would find him, and finally…

There was an explosion, and Remus nearly lost his balance as a geyser erupted right next to him, showering him with freezing water. His dragonfly mount dodged to the side, its wings damp and heavy. He looked down at the forest to see his glorious fire had all but disappeared, drenched by the multiple streams of water that had exploded into the air.

Remus sneered. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. He shook his head and let water droplets fly before commanding the dragonfly to hover over the forest, jumping into a tree and climbing down to the forest floor.

It was quiet. The duke took a few steps forward, trying to see around the thick tree trunks. He snickered quietly to himself. That would be a good one for Thomas later.

His boots squished into a puddle of something and Remus lifted his boot to examine it. There was a watery black liquid seeping into his shoe, and the dark side realized that it was the dust of his creations that had mixed with the water from the geyser.

He looked around again. What had happened? He’d made his own army fireproof, so they couldn’t have burned from him, and there was nothing around here that explained what could have destroyed them.

The duke set his jaw. Well then, maybe his brother was capable of playing a little dirty. He grabbed his morningstar and rested it over his shoulder, following the faint buzz of insect wings to find his way out, using his weapon to whack any tree branches or loose brush out of his path.

Instead, Remus found his way into a clearing of trees, with a fake mesh of leaves cast over the top to disguise it from above. The trees surrounding the area were twisted together, branches forming a protective barrier to keep people out. But then, it also meant that it could keep people in.

“Oh Roman!~ I know you’re here! You’re just too predictable!” Remus called out, swinging his morningstar back and forth. “Come on, let’s just get this over with, you’re clearly not fit to be Thomas’s Creativity if you’re hiding from little old me!”

There was a laugh from across the clearing, and Remus saw a poorly defined shadow sitting in one of the trees. “I thought you were a little smarter than to just walk into something like this! I mean, come on Rem, this is obviously a trap!”

Remus heard a strange creaking from behind him and a tree branch suddenly snaked its way around his waist and lifted him off the ground. His morningstar clattered to the ground and he cursed wildly, flailing his legs to no avail. Of course, moving trees! That must have been what the whole forest was made of!

The prince hopped down from the tree and strutted over, hands on his hips and a triumphant smirk on his face. “I can’t believe that worked as well as it did. Seriously? I pulled this same trick when we were kids!”

Remus winced in pain, though he tried to hide it with a wide toothed smile. “Who says this isn’t exactly what I wanted to happen?”

Roman rolled his eyes and drew his sword, ready to end this fight.

Remus winced again, gritting his teeth. He kicked his feet forward and caught Roman’s shoulder, shoving him back. The momentum loosened the branch’s hold on his waist and he dropped out of its grip.

The dark side grinned, rolling and grabbing the handle of his morningstar. Roman stumbled, head snapping up just as Remus swung upwards, upper cutting his chin with the heavy weapon. Warmth blossomed in his mouth as he bit down hard on his cheek and blood poured onto his tongue.

Roman fell onto his back, head spinning. He blinked stars out of his vision and was met with a maniacal smile aimed down at him. Remus raised his morningstar above his head, and Roman willed his leaden limbs to move. He couldn’t let this happen – He was Prince Roman, he could not be defeated like this!

The prince twisted his entire body, using the momentum to throw his arm up and swipe at Remus with his sword. His grip was terrible, but it would do. Remus jumped back and dropped his weapon behind him, but he wasn’t fast enough as the blade’s edge ripped through him.

Literally, through him. Roman, expecting resistance and finding none, was carried by his momentum and rolled onto his stomach. He pushed himself to his knees and spat red into the grass, staring wide-eyed at his brother. “You just… I hit you! That’s not fair!”

“No you didn’t!” Remus laughed, dancing away and laughing. Roman stood slowly, unsteady on his feet and using his sword to stabilize himself.

“Yes, I did. How did you do that? My sword went straight through you!”

Remus shrugged, retrieving his morningstar. “You didn’t hit me, Roman, what can I say?” He smirked, slinging it over his shoulders.

The prince shook his head, prodding at his sore chin and checking for blood. “You can say that you cheated!”

“I didn’t cheat, there’s nothing in the rules about dodging an attack!”

“That wasn’t dodging, you went full on ghost mode! I didn’t even know we could do that!”

“You can’t…” Remus said under his breath. Then he huffed and rolled his eyes. “Fiiiine, if you really think I cheated, we’ll call this one a draw. And you know what? I’ll even let you take a break, you look like you’re ready to crawl into a hole and die.”

Roman growled, straightening his back despite his body’s protest. “Oh yeah? What’s the matter, scared that I’ll beat you like this?”

Remus just laughed and turned on his heel, waving an arm over the forest around him and making it disappear into dust that glittered in the wind. “Third times a charm, Roman, but who’s charm will it be?”

The prince watched his brother dissipate his creations, feeling weight lift from his body as the strain of keeping it up lightened. He sighed in relief, turning to go back to his friends and sit for a moment.

“Roman!” Worried voices called as he approached the pavilion, and he subtly tried to spit another mouthful of blood into the grass before he got too close. Patton ran up to him, checking over his face and wiping away the blood dripping down his chin with the edge of his cardigan sleeve.

“Pat, your sweater-“

“That’s not important! Roman, don’t ever do that again! I nearly passed out!” Patton scolded, though its impact was lessened slightly by the crack in his voice and tears in his eyes.

“Is your chest alright? I saw you holding it earlier.” Logan asked, stepping forward and pulling Patton away from his fussing calmly. Roman gently prodded the sore spot and nodded, wincing.

“Just a bruise, I don’t think anything’s broken.” Not that he would tell them if it was. He had to finish this, but if Patton knew he’d gotten hurt that bad, he’d drag Roman to his room and make him stay there for a week. Logan nodded, not fully convinced.

“And your head?” Virgil interjected. “I saw you spit blood, Princey, you’re not ok!”

“Yes, I am! That hit just made me bite my cheek and it bled a little, ok?” Roman opened his mouth to show them that the bleeding had already stopped. “I’m fine. I just need to sit for a minute and then I’m gonna kick his butt into next week!”

The other three shared a look.

“Roman, you... don’t have to do this alone.”

“I know I’m not as good with the Imagination as you are, but if I could just do something to help!” Patton pleaded. Roman shook his head, then groaned at the action.

“No... No, I can’t risk you guys getting hurt. Besides, this is between us. This is what everything’s been leading to, all these years. It’s the only fitting end for the two of us. Ever since we were kids...”

He trailed off. Patton bit his lip, glancing at Logan who sighed quietly. Virgil looked between the two of them, confused.

“This is my fight. I appreciate you guys wanting to help me, I do, but... this isn’t something you can really help with. We need to settle our differences, and this... is really the only way we know how.”

“Violence should not be the answer!”

“There is no other answer with Remus. What I need right now is to come up with a plan. A strategy. Logan?”

The logical side adjusted his glasses, taking in how battered and exhausted Roman looked. He was struggling to even stand - Logan doubted he was up for creating much more.

“Leave it to me.”

~~~

“You hesitated.”

Remus tilted his head at Obsession, who was staring at him evenly. “Whatever do you mean?”

“When you were standing over Roman. You could have finished it right there. But you didn’t.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Deceit nodded, eyes narrowed as he tried to search Remus’s face for answers he was not going to give.

The dark side of creativity threw his head back and laughed. “I think you need your eyes checked, Obsession.”

The orange clad side adjusted his glasses. “I may be blind, but I’m not stupid. I know you, Remus, and I know what you’re capable of. You’re going easy on him.”

Remus just rolled his eyes and looked over at Deceit with an amused smile. “Can you believe him? Have I ever gone easy on anyone?”

Deceit smiled. “I’ve never seen it before. Tell me, do you have a plan for this round? You know, it’s cruel to keep dragging it out like this.”

Remus pursed his lips and shrugged. “I’ll just do whatever I feel like!”

“Nothing new then. Come on now, Obsession and I are getting incredibly bored over here, can’t you do something interesting?” Deceit leaned forward, chin in his hand. Remus tapped his morningstar against his hand, thinking, but as the other dark sides watched, the handle missed his hand and swung down to the ground. Remus stumbled, planting it on the ground to regain his balance and leaning against it.

No, Deceit realized. He didn’t miss catching it. It had gone straight through his hand. And now, Remus’s face seemed to be glowing. It took a moment to realize that it wasn’t his complexion, but rather the sun shining down and somehow through him.

“Well, I should get back to it. This will be the last round, so you two just sit tight, alright? This’ll be quick.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, Remus?” Obsession asked quietly. The dark side chuckled, turning away from them.

“You couldn’t have asked that a bit sooner? It’s a little too late to back out now. I’m out of time, we’re finishing this now!” The creative side turned and shouted to his brother in the pavilion, pointing back at the field with vigor. There was a call back, and Roman started back towards the field.

Deceit watched him walk away, morningstar swinging at Remus’s hip, and sighed. “Looks like you were right.”

Obsession stifled a snicker. “I think I just heard your ego shatter, Dee.” He then grew somber, watching Remus walk away. “That was it, wasn’t it?”

The lying side nodded, picking at the edge of his gloves. “We’re not going to see him after this.”

He hummed in agreement, pushing up his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. The side glanced at Deceit. “You gonna miss him?”

Deceit smiled. “Absolutely not.”

“Hmph. Liar.”

~~~

The twins agreed on fifteen minutes to prepare, and the onlookers noticed a distinct difference between their strategies. As soon as the timer started Roman had darted onto his own side and into his tower, hiding what he was creating from his brother.

Meanwhile, Remus was leisurely wandering around his side, absently growing a wall or creating a gruesome creature every so often. He carried an air of indifference, a change from his eagerness from before. He stood tall, but the dark sides sitting on the sidelines knew, perhaps instinctively, that something was off.

The former dark side sitting with Logan and Patton noticed it too. While his friends’ eyes were glued to the screen, watching Roman put his plan into action, Virgil kept his eyes locked on Deceit and Obsession.

He couldn’t tell exactly from where he was sitting, but the look on Deceit’s face almost looked… disappointed? Upset, even? It had to be an act, Virgil had never known the lying side to show his emotions clearly. Has Remus said something during the little break?

Deceit’s head turned towards the pavilion, and Virgil’s head snapped back to the screen, heart racing. Did he know he was being watched? No, it must have just been a coincidence.

Still though, he didn’t look back over after that. Just in case.

“Is he gonna make it?” Patton’s voice brought Virgil back to the present, and he glanced up at the screen.

“It’s going to be close... as long as he followed the structure I set, he should be fine. He should have created his most important pieces first. The rest is additional support.” Logan tapped his chin, eyes locked on the screen.

“Thirty seconds left...”

Roman looked up from his work and clapped his hands, smiling.

“He’s done!” Patton cheered, leaping from his seat and throwing his hands in the air. Virgil saw a small smile grow on Logan’s face.

“He’s still got to actually do the fight, you know, he’s not done yet.” Virgil added.

“Everything will be alright, Virgil.” Logan reassured before the bell rang out over the field, and they all leaned into the screen. This was it.

~~~

Roman’s chest was heaving. Even though he hadn’t created nearly as much as he had the past two rounds, his entire body was screaming at him to stop, to let it go and rest. He leaned heavily against the parapet, commanding his knights to march forward onto Remus’s side.

His brother’s side of the field was suspiciously barren; even with Roman’s lack of energy, he’d managed to create dozens more than his brother. Yet, the dark creative side wasn’t showing any signs of exhaustion or pain that Roman was feeling. He wasn’t even barricading himself in his tower!

Instead, he wandered around his side of the field casually, his morningstar stuck through his belt. Roman kept a careful eye on him as he sent his knights forward, taking out the few monsters blocking the way.

The dark side didn’t seem worried, and as Roman’s front lines advanced, he realized why.

An ear-splitting explosion rocked the Imagination, and both Roman and the spectators alike slapped their hands to their ears. The only one unbothered was Remus, who merely started laughing as he saw Roman’s first line of troops reduced to white dust.

The prince’s eyes widened. Shit, he had explosives planted? No wonder he didn’t have monsters above ground - the real danger was below!

His knuckles went white from gripping the stone of the tower. Logan had taken a lot of things into account but landmines hadn’t been one!

Roman closed his eyes, willing his army forward. He refused to split them into smaller groups, even though it would mean he would lose less to an explosion. As long as he could just get one group through, that would be enough.

Another explosion shook the field, and Roman winced at the puff of white smoke that rose into the air. Two down. It was fine, he mumbled to himself. His secret weapon was still in play.

A grotesque creature that looked to be part snake, part tentacled monster slithered up behind Remus. The dark side glanced back at it for a moment curiously. Roman’s heart was racing. Just a little more...

Remus turned away as another, smaller explosion shook the ground. As his eyes turned towards the horizon, the monster shifted into one of Roman’s white knights holding a morningstar high above its head.

Even if the dark sides had wanted to warn him, there wasn’t a moment to cry out before the knight swung, clocking Remus on the side of his head. The dark side’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed onto the ground, unmoving. A bell rang out after a few moments.

It was over. Roman had won.

The wall around the field dissipated, and the rest of the twins’ creations crumbled to dust, leaving Remus curled up on the ground and Roman bent over, breathing hard but still standing.

The light sides ran over to him, with Patton tacking Roman in a hug and lifting him off the ground. Roman groaned, his ribs screaming in agony.

“P-Pat! Easy! Chest!”

Patton gasped and let him down, hands moving to grip his arms carefully. “Sorry, kiddo! I’m just so proud of you!”

That nearly made Roman burst into tears right then and there, and he ducked his head to hide his face. “Thanks, padre. I... I’m... I did it.”

“Yeah, you did. Don’t do it again.” Virgil warned, hands in his pockets. Roman just laughed, slinging an arm around Virgil’s shoulders and bringing the anxious side into a one-armed hug.

“Aw, you can say you were worried about me, storm cloud!”

“Of course I was...” Virgil mumbled into his chest, returning the hug quickly before stepping back. Logan put his hand on Roman’s shoulder, a rare smile on his face.

“Well done, Roman.”

The creative side blushed - it was high praise from Logan. “Thanks, teach.”

“So, does this mean you’re Thomas’s only Creativity now?” Patton glanced over to the other side of the field, where Remus was lying. His voice was quiet. “What... what will happen to him?”

Logan pursed his lips. “It will not be good for Thomas to only have ‘good’ imagination,” he put air quotes around the word good. “It will be up to Roman to take over Remus’s responsibilities as well as his own.”

“But... Roman’s Thomas’s good creativity! How is he supposed to do that?!”

The logical side huffed. “Patton, I’ve said this before, but things are not that simple. Life is not black and white and although it might be a difficult task for Roman at the beginning, it will be dangerous for Thomas if he doesn’t!”

“Logan, Roman’s not going to be able to do that!” Virgil piped up.

Roman tuned his friends out, eyes darting between the dark sides still sitting on their blanket, and his brother lying on the ground. Somehow, it didn’t surprise him that Deceit and Obsession hadn’t moved from their spot, and seemed to not even be bothered that Remus was still unconscious on the ground.

Roman huffed, and held his head high as he walked over to his brother, who was staring up at the sky with a glassy expression. Roman leaned down and offered him a hand.

“Come on, get up.”

The dark side blinked. “What?”

Roman rolled his eyes, reaching down and grabbing his brothers hands, trying to pull him to his feet. “Would you rather lay there and get your outfit dirty? I’m trying to be nice.”

Remus allowed himself to be pulled into a sitting position, but refused to go any further. “Why?”

The light side huffed, hands on his hips. “Because that’s what a prince does, got it? It was a close game and I wanted to thank you. It was... fun.”

Remus blinked. “You... thought it was... fun?”

“Well, not all of it, but... well, it’s like you said. Old times, right?” Roman scratches the back of his neck, looking away as Remus got onto his feet unsteadily. “You fought well.”

The dark side stared at him, chest heaving. “I...”

Roman grinned, meeting Remus’s incredulous stare. “I can’t believe this, you’re actually speechless. You haven’t stopped talking since you showed up.”

“Roman...”

He opened his mouth to respond, but Remus suddenly threw his arms tightly around Roman’s shoulders, and the prince tensed.

“What are you doing? I swear to everything if you stab me in the back I will...”

A faint laugh echoed in Roman’s ear, and Remus tightened his hug. “Not this time.”

After a moment, Roman relaxed and gingerly returned it. After several more tense moments, another whisper, this time so faint Roman barely caught what was said.

“Take care of Thomas.”

It took a moment for the words to register in his mind, but as soon as they were uttered, Remus’s steadfast grip disappeared completely and Roman’s arms closed in on himself, going straight through the side he’d just embraced.

“Remus, what—!”

The dark side smirked, stepping back despite Roman’s desperate attempts to grab him again. “It’s time. Have fun being Creativity.”

Then, as if he were simply one of Roman’s own creations, he disintegrated into shimmering white dust, carried away from Roman’s frozen form on a gentle breeze.

“R-Remus? Hey, this isn’t funny! Get back here! You can’t just... that can’t be... that’s it? All that and you just leave?! Remus, show yourself!”

Roman shouted into empty air, grasping at the dust that floated lazily around him, desperately hoping that his brother would reform if he could just gather it all.

His eyes and chest burned. For years he’d been dreaming of this moment, when he would finally vanquish the evil within Thomas and bring peace. But this felt nothing like those daydreams, where he touted his victory and swore that the other dark sides would be next. He didn’t feel happy or excited by this.

He felt devastated. His breath started coming faster until he was hyperventilating. Roman’s legs were jelly and he collapsed into a heap on the plush grass.

Remus was gone.

Half of Thomas’s Creativity was gone.

His brother was gone.

As soon as that thought hit him, he found he couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, and he sobbed freely, crying and pleading for the world to please just bring his annoying, crude, selfish brother back.

~~~

Patton and Logan sprinted to Roman’s side as soon as he collapsed, Patton offering a shoulder to cry on for the distraught prince. Virgil, on the other hand, had a bone to pick.

The anxious side stalked over to the tattered picnic blanket where Deceit and Obsession were chatting amongst themselves, as if they were out and about on a stroll rather than being moments after their supposed comrade and friend was turned to dust. Virgil stopped in front of Deceit, glaring down at him with hate in his eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?!”

Deceit glanced up casually, pursing his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I knew you were a cold hearted bastard but even you have to feel something about all this! You just lost Remus! He’s gone! Why are you just sitting here!?”

“Crying and screaming about it isn’t going to bring him back.” Deceit answered.

“Besides, Remus knew what he was getting into when he challenged Roman. If anything, he got what he deserved.” Obsession added, pushing his glasses up. Virgil’s chest was about to explode from rage.

“Got what he deserved!? God damn it Obsession, I knew he was a cruel asshole but I thought you were capable of some goddamn empathy!”

Obsession shrugged. “He got what he wanted. I don’t see why I should feel sorry for him.”

“Oh, I believe he got even more than what he wanted, if you want my honest opinion.” Deceit was smirking now, hand over his heart. Virgil took a step back, suddenly on guard.

“What do you mean?”

Obsession gestured behind Virgil. “See for yourself.”

Virgil was loath to turn his back on these two very large threats, but when he heard a scream not of anguish but of pure agony, he whipped around and his blood ran cold.

Roman was curled in on himself, hands over his ears, mouth open in a scream that he couldn’t force out. Patton tried to touch him but Roman jerked away as if burned by the touch. Virgil couldn’t move, until Deceit hissed from behind him.

“You were just calling us cruel for standing by while our friend died, but look at you. Frozen like a deer in headlights while poor Roman is in absolute agony. That’s not a very friendlike thing to do, Virgil.”

Virgil swallowed nasty words that he wanted to hurl at both of them and took off in a sprint, ignoring the laughter behind him.

“Roman!!” The anxious side screamed as he ran, forcing himself to go faster. When he reached the prince, his hands flew to his mouth in shock.

On the creative side’s pure white back, there was a stain of oily black over his heart. And before Virgil’s very eyes it began to spread out, edges blurring as it consumed the creative side entirely.

Roman seized, sucking in a breath before his eyes rolled back into his skull and he crumpled into a heap in Patton’s arms, the pain becoming too much.

“Roman!!!”

[pinstrpe-blog]

    doctor who sentence starters     tenth doctor, part ii.

you poor child.

correctamundo.

blame your boyfriend, he's the one that put us on this.

i wish i'd had school dinners like this.

don't tell me i don't fit in.

i'm so going to kill you.

three months ago, massive UFO activity.

there's definitely something going on.

do you think i'd just invent an emergency?

doesn't that strike you as odd?

well, no harm in a little investigation while i'm here.

it's weird seeing school at night. it just feels wrong.

when i was a kid, i used to think all the teachers slept in school.

i hate it when you say 'team'.

infiltration and investigation? i'm an expert at this.

i thought you'd died.

i waited for you, you didn't come back, and i thought you must've died.

i lived. everyone else died.

and you decided to scream?

does anyone notice anything strange about this?

i don't mean to be rude or anything, but who exactly are you?

the missus and the ex... welcome to every man's worst nightmare.

what's the nasty lady done to you?

you see what's impressive is that it's been nearly an hour since we met her and i still haven't said i told you so. though i have prepared a little 'i was right' dance that i can show you later.

did i do something wrong? because you never came back for me, you just dumped me.

you didn't need me. you were getting on with your life.

you took me to the furthest reaches of the galaxy. you showed me supernovas, intergalactic battles... and you just dropped me back on earth. how could anything compare to that?

think how bad things could possibly be and add another suitcase full of bad.

you wither and you die. imagine watching that happen to someone who you love.

you can spend the rest of your life with me. but i can't spend the rest of mine with you.

this plan of yours... what is it?

your people were peaceful to the point of indolence. you seem to be something new.

would you declare war on us?

i used to have so much mercy. you get one warning.

we're not even enemies.

the next time we meet, you will join me.

i don't feel threatened by you, if that's what you mean.

with you, did he do that thing where he'd explain something at like 90mph and you'd go 'what?' and he'd look at you like you just dribbled down your shirt?

today, we shall become gods.

they've taken all the children!

crack that equation and you've got control over the building blocks of the universe.

with the paradigm solved, reality becomes clay in our hands. we can shape the universe and improve it.

call me old-fashioned, i like things the way they are.

you act like such a radical and yet all you want to do is preserve the old order.

think of the changes that could be made if the power was used for good...

become a god, at my side.

how lonely you must be.

i could save everyone. i could stop the war.

pain and loss, they define us as much as happiness or love.

whether it's a world, or a relationship, everything has its time and everything ends.

we're about to head off, but... you could come with us.

i can't do this anymore. besides, i've got a much bigger adventure ahead.

some things are worth getting your heart broken for.

we are under attack.

there are creatures - i don't even think they're human.

he has watched over me my whole life and he will not desert me tonight.

the clock on the mantel is broken!

brilliant! i got a spaceship on my first go!

anyone on board?

nothing here. well. nothing dangerous. well. not that dangerous.

you know what? i'll just have a quick scan... in case there's anything dangerous.

dear me, had some cowboys in here.

there's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe!

well... we're in deep space, so they didn't just nip out for a quick fag.

now there's something you don't see in your average spaceship.

what are you doing in my fireplace?

didn't want to just say 'magic door'.

you're scared of a broken clock?

if you were a thing that ticked and you were hiding in someone's bedroom, first thing you'd do is break the clock.

stay on the bed. right in the middle - don't put your hands or feet over the edge.

what could there be in a little girl's mind worth blowing a hole in the universe?

you are incomplete.

everyone has nightmares.

even monsters from under the bed have nightmares.

i mean this from the heart... it would be a crime, it would be an act of vandalism, to disassemble you... but that won't stop me!

you do not appear to have aged a single day.

oh, you never want to listen to reason.

every time! it's rule one! don't wander off!

is this like... normal for you? is this an average day?

it's a different planet.

it's switching back on. then it kills everyone in the room.

get out of here this instant!

you're not keeping the horse!

i need to find out what they're looking for.

you've never been alone in your life.

lonely then and lonelier now. how can you bear it?

they're going to chop us up!

trust me, you wouldn't want to mess with our designated driver.

among other things, i think i just invented the banana daiquiri a couple centuries early.

always take a banana to a party. bananas are good.

you are the best! you know why? 'cause you're so thick! you're mr thick! thick thickety thickface from thicktown, thickania, and so's your dad!

right, you, that's enough lying about!

in five years, these creatures will return. what can be done?

you won't be able to stop them, but you might be able to delay them a bit.

he'll be there when you need him. that's the way it's got to be.

those creatures are messing with history. none of this was ever supposed to happen to you.

one may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.

your words are nothing. you are nothing.

i have made a decision, and my decision is 'no'.

i have seen your world and i have no desire to set foot there again.

you think i fear you, but i do not fear you, even now.

you are merely the nightmare of my childhood - the monster from under my bed.

if my nightmare can return to plague me, then rest assured, so will yours!

talk about seven years' bad luck, try three thousand.

it's over. accept that.

what's in a name? names are just titles. titles don't tell you anything.

i have often wished to see those stars a little closer. just as you have, i think.

in saving me, you trapped yourself. did you know that would happen?

still want to see those stars?

pack a bag!

go to the window. pick a star. any star.

always 5 and a half hours.

reason tells me that you and i are unlikely to meet again, but i think i shall not listen to reason.

godspeed, my lonely angel.

do you know me?

technically, this is a new form of life, and that contravenes the bio-convention.

how will you do that from beyond the grave?

kill him.

one minute, she's standing there, and the next minute, roar!

brace yourself! we're gonna crash!

we fell out of the vortex, through the void, into nothingness.

we're in some sort of no-place. the silent realm. the lost dimension.

this is not your world.

it's like an alternative to our world, where everything's the same, but a little bit different.

don't look at it. don't even think about it. this is not your world.

if you ever trusted me, then listen to me now.

trust me on this.

oh, i can trust you alright! trust you to cock it up!

um, i don't suppose you'll be joining us tonight for the party?

events are moving faster than i anticipated.

a parallel world is like a gingerbread house! all those temptations!

there's nothing out there to tempt me?

the brain is what makes us human, and my mind is more creative than ever!

we're not meant to be here.

it draws its power out of the universe, but it's the wrong universe - it's like diesel in a petrol engine.

but i've seen it in comics - people go hopping from one alternative world to another.

all those people, disappearing off the streets - it's been going on for months. it's them!

so that gives us 24 hours on a parallel world.

stay where you are, both of you!

you don't know anything about me, do you?

there's no choice, is there? you can only chase after one of us, and it's never gonna be me, is it?

you don't think he's insane?

we just take him for granted.

you lot, you're obsessed. you'll do anything for the latest upgrade!

different world, remember?

i keep hearing all these stories, people disappearing off the street!

there's nothing official, but there's all these rumours and whispers...

i thought they'd gone and disappeared you!

guess i'm just kind of useless.

you know what you need? a nice sit down and a cup of tea.

for you, i've got all the time in the world.

you don't contact your family, 'cause it puts them in danger!

you're london's most wanted.

the most precious thing on this earth is the human brain and yet we allow it to die.

my government does not give you permission, and i think no government ever will.

i am governed by greater laws: the right of a man to survive.

if you want to know what's going on... work in kitchens.

no work, no politics, just a few good mates and plenty of black market whiskey.

you can't stay, even if there was some way of telling them.

you're talking to london's most wanted.

why am i telling you all this?

i can manage a nice glass of champagne, or a nice cup of tea.

who the hell do you think you are?

i suppose a remark about crashing the party would be appropriate at this point.

put the guns down, bullets won't stop them.

[millennial94meets-world]

A GENERATION: QUARANTINED.

Is it coming to you live if I’m just chilling in my apartment and taking my time blogging about the new way of life many generations are having to endure without a FaceTime selfie update? Maybe not. Who cares. 

You do. That’s why you’re reading this. Because for many of you, this is day 9 or 15 of quarantine depending on where you are in the country, and you are SO bored that you ended up in a rabbit hole that led you here. Welcome. I could use some more followers just like you could use something to do for the next ten minutes. 

For many millennials and introverts alike, nothing has changed. Nada. We are doing the same things we have been doing: avoiding human contact, jumping into rabbit holes out of boredom on social media platforms, eating take out from DoorDash, and binge watching our faves on popular platforms. So to the rest of the world...we send the warmest welcome. 

The difference? Now we are being asked to do it. 

It’s easier to stay home when you WANT to hide, but it’s a little different for some of us to stay home when you’re TOLD to hide, hence why many people are taking those cheap flights to anywhere without caution, putting bar nights on their social media stories without a care to rebel, and trying not to hit their heads against walls as they are stuck indoors with family they would otherwise optionally see occasionally. Praying for you. 

Anyways. While everyone is stuck indoors and sharing their hourly updates of how nothing has changed, or how they are continuing to innovate their new, and hopefully temporary, “norms”, I thought I could also share a few tips on how to stay positive (oh God, no, not for COVID-19), be productive working at home, still be productive if you are temporarily/indefinitely laid off, or have trouble getting through that to-do list you have been making for 5 years (don’t be ashamed, we all have one). 

Tip #1: Stay Positive. 

I know, I know. That looks more like: StAy pOsITivE, but hear me out. Wake up every morning and set one positive intention; whether it’s limiting your social media scrolling, getting a nice long yoga practice in, getting through a few chapters of a good book, turning the garage into a real gym (no, that treadmill being weighted down by your air-drying laundry does NOT count, Becky), getting a good handle on your [new] online classes, or checking up on your grandparents because #quarantinecheck . Keeping a good positive mental attitude is good for the longevity of this quarantine. This isn’t going to last forever, and it helps to make sure that even if the Corona virus doesn’t infect your immune system, that you don’t let it infect your mental health. It’s also going to help you achieve the rest of this list. 

Tip #2: Productively Working From Home.

Say good-bye to cubicles and awkward coffee breaks in the break room with that guy from IT that has a crush on you that you hardly know, and say hello to a much more hostile work environment depending on the adult and child population in your home. You’re about to find out just how much pressure you can take with that deadline. Breathe. I am not an expert on kids because I don’t have any, so I won’t pretend to be. If you’re looking on advice on how to wrangle those little devils, you’re in the wrong place, sis. For everyone else, get up like you would every morning, eh, maybe like an hour more of sleeping in, but get up, get dressed and put some concealer on or whatever. Make some coffee and find the dog/cat/rabbit/hamster leash you threw in the back of the coat closet because you and Fluffy are going for a productive brainstorming walk. Yep. You’re taking the dog, or the cat, or the rabbit, or the hamster (or whatever poor fluffy adorable creature that you never take for some productive exercise) to work from now until this sh*t is over. Make it a 10-15 minute walk (depending the type of pet) and set some productive work intentions. Make a list on your phone. When you come back, set up a creative desk area if you don’t already have one. I use one end of my dining room table by folding one of my favorite patterned scarves in half and laying down as a foundation for mental separation where the cats are NOT allowed to lay. Place some candles from your room or living room on your desk for some “office ambiance”, put up a standing picture frame if you like, notepad and pens, and maybe some cute paper weights? Whatever floats your boat. Start by checking your emails or whatever you would normally do to start the workday at the office, and just keep the ball rolling from there. Set a lunch break, and stay out of the kitchen until then (unless you, like, actually need to get a snack)! We all know what too many snacks lead to....(I’m not saying don’t eat what you want, by all means necessary, snack your PANTS OFF, but save them for after work because we are trying to get sh*t done, okay?)....anyways. If you start feeling overwhelmed by your to-do list, take a break and call your Nana or your mom or dad and chat to check in for like 15 minutes. Talk about your day with them, then get back to it. It helps to get some social interaction, especially because you would be getting that at work with your co-workers. Make sure that you set a solid time to end your “workday” and try to stick to it! You got this!

Tip #3:  Being Productive “Working From Home”.

This one is for everyone who has been told that their places of employment have been shutdown temporarily or indefinitely by the government or city officials due to risk of exposure. Set an alarm for the morning for like 9 am or 10:30 am, and get drink some water (we know you had more than a glass of wine last night, and quite frankly...same). Make some coffee or tea to-go, and strap the pup/kitty/bunny up for a walk! We are all going to get some Vitamin D and fresh air ladies and gents. While on your walk, set some daily intentions to do some school work, start a blog (hehe..), take care of any adult-responsibilities that you have been putting off because you just haven’t had time during the week to do it (your banks are still doing drive-thru extended services, so no excuses), make a chore list, make a plan of invading your local grocery store [during business hours] in hopes of finding [not hoarding] lost treasures like toilet paper, conference calling your project buddies from class so you can knock out that B+ even in quarantine because we all know the policy in the syllabus doesn’t even protect you from a worldwide quarantine, or you can take the time you need to take care of your unemployment status! You can still do so many things under these trying times. Start something new for your self or cross off some serious adulting moves. Take this time to meditate,  learn about the “joy” of meal-prepping (don’t do this one, it’s miserable), finish that weird painting you started with the girls during a poorly timed wine and paint night at your place (remember? There were snacks and more bottles than canvases and you guys got too drunk and a few brush strokes in you stopped and started to Instagram-stalk your exes and their current girlfriends?? Yeah. You remember), YouTube some yoga routines to start flowing for some MUCH needed positive stress-relief, clean the hell out of your kitchen AND closet (you know you need to donate the sh*t you don’t wear anymore. It’s just taking up space, Jen), or start doing some morning or evening runs with your dog. Take this quarantining time to start new and positive habits that you have been thinking about picking up lately but have been too busy to do so. YOU HAVE PLENTY OF TIME NOW. 

Here’s mine, I started a self-care regiment of taking super reds and greens when I get up in morning and go to bed at night, and I started getting up earlier to take my dog out to play fetch while I drink my morning coffee (I don’t run for sh*t, f**k that). Start with something small like I did. If I can do it, you can do it. 

Tip #4: Do Your “To-Dos”.

Seriously. Find that list. Make that list. Slap it on the dining room table and give it a good talking-to. Tell it about how you’re not taking anymore of its bullsh*t, and this ends this week. PROJECT YOUR FEELINGS. Then get to it. Maybe drink some coffee first? Idk. Whatever gets you going. Keep in mind a few things though:

1. It’s okay if you only do one thing today because you can take the rest of the week or the rest of the quarantine to finish it. Nobody is judging you, but you, sis (A good life mantra).

2. You are the boss of the list, not the other way around. Take charge, sis. 

3. You don’t even have to go in order from top to bottom. Maybe start with the easiest and most convenient things to do at home, and then work your way out. Or alternate between easy and more challenging if you want to make it more fun. The point is: go at your own pace, this isn’t a race. You know what they say about things that rhyme *insert enthusiastic smile and eyebrow raise here*.  

4. Do not, and I cannot stress this enough, do NOT judge yourself for how long any item has been on the list. What matters is today, and your motivation to take on these tasks. So pop some headphones in, and go get em’ tiger. 

Remember, 2020 is NOT cancelled. It’s just postponed for some self-healing. I hope this helps, and that everyone who reads it can find something that they will take away and put into motion in the weeks to come. Speaking of weeks to come, I am now out of wine, so I have to add a trip to the store to my to-do list lol.

 Happy Quarantining guys!!