#and I don’t want her to go snooping and somehow find this account | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

aquarium ii | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader; ex-jungkook x reader

summary: Life after Jeon Jungkook was grey. You had to find your own color, grow your own rainbow. But what would surprise you the most is the appearance of white cosmos, seven of them clutched tightly in Kim Taehyung’s hand.

warnings: reader discretion is advised: a (half-hearted) suicide attempt; mentions of cheating in previous relationship; language; heavy angst; fluffiest fluff; non-idol!AU; kind garden-loving landlord!Taehyung x reader; ft. sadboi!Jungkook

–

part i

now playing – without me by halsey ft. JUICE WRLD

tell me, how's it feel sittin' up there? feelin’ so high, but too far away to hold me

You couldn’t remember that night very well, because you didn’t come up.

The worst part about being cheated on was not the actual cheating. It was the moment where you thought you had done something wrong, like somehow it was your fault it happened, like if you hadn’t done this or that, maybe things would have been different. Maybe if you hadn’t chosen that night to snoop into Jeon Jungkook’s phone, he would have had second thoughts, deleted it all, and loved you again. Maybe if you were a little kinder, a little more attentive, he wouldn’t have fallen out of love with you. Maybe... Maybe.

Maybe.

You knew that was just your brain trying to rationalize his irrationality. You had done wrong by invading his privacy by acting on sheer gut feeling. And you had run away, without confronting it, without giving him a chance, because you knew, you knew that if you gave him a chance, you would believe all his words, get dragged back into his sea, back into those dangerous waters.

All these thoughts coursed through you as the water closed in.

The milky bathwater was slowly replacing your depleting air, leaking into your lungs and you didn’t fight it, turning the darkness of the underside of your eyelids into light, because deep down you still loved him, no matter how stupid or foolish it was. Your heart still clung to his soft, I’m sorry, and you didn’t want to hear it anymore.

You didn’t want to know what loving Jeon Jungkook was like anymore. It was too painful.

you know i'm the one who put you up there name in the sky, does it ever get lonely?

You gave everything so he could be what he wanted to be, not knowing that you were the one slowly being eroded. No one could tell you. You were the one who had to find the signs. You were the one who found yourself trapped in glass walls, stuck in an aquarium, surrounded on all sides by Jeon Jungkook as he made a mockery of your feelings.

You screamed into the water and no one heard you.

The next memory you had was hazy, barely there.

You felt a tightness in your chest, harsh, solid pressure. A frustrated, agonized voice above you, desperately calling your name in deep baritone, desperately asking you to come back, praying in every language he knew for you to come back, come back, please, please, please.

“Please…”

In the whiteness, you wandered. Were you meant to be here? It was a loose fog. You looked around, seeing traces of memory like torn book pages, slipping through the haze. You reached out to touch them and they disappeared, only mirages.

And then you fell, dragged into dark blue, torn, battered, lungs burning as you struggled to stay afloat, coughing hard, your muscles screaming with asphyxiation, sudden oxygen flooding your brain. You whipped your head to the side, hacking up water, spilling it all over the green tiles of the bathroom floor, head pounding. Thoughts swimming, barely computing the shouting above you.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” one voice growled above your jerking body, so venomous that it made your blood run cold. “You absolute disaster of a man, thinking for one fucking second she would even consider taking you back. Look at her! She’d rather drown herself in my damn bathtub than hold a conversation with you!”

“What the fuck do you know?” The familiar voice, the voice that haunted you in your nightmares, the voice that fed you sweet poison. “She would do anything for me! She worships the fucking ground I walk on!”

You curled up into a ball, head pounding by the sudden explosion of light and sound. There was a towel over you, covering your wet naked body, and yet you shivered. You barely registered Kim Taehyung snarling, rising to his feet.

“You narcissistic bastard,” Taehyung spat out. “Get the fuck out of my house. Get the fuck out and don’t ever come near her again or I’ll break your fucking neck.”

“You can’t do anything to me. You’re a nobody,” Jeon Jungkook taunted. “Unlike you, I actually have money to sue you for assault.”

Apparently, Taehyung did not give a single shit, because he immediately roared and launched himself past you, the brown ball slamming into the black wall. You blinked, trying to register what was happening, but it was too much for you and your brain that was slowly trying to restore function due to lack of oxygen. They tumbled down the stairs and you laid your head against the floor, hearing the grunts and shouting, wondering why Taehyung had come back.

Wondering how he knew.

You closed your eyes.

In your dreams, you saw the soft sunlight glowing against Taehyung’s tan skin as he reached down to retrieve a dark green cucumber to show you. It was a bit wonky and hadn’t grown quite right, but you watched Taehyung tap it and smile to himself.

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like on the outside,” he said cheerfully. “I know it will still taste delicious because I gave it love.”

You tried to go back to work, but it was awful.

You loved your work. Perhaps it was boring to others, accounting all day, but it was mundane and peaceful, always knowing what you had to do. You never had to question the numbers. The numbers were what they were and that was that.

But now when you stared out into the grey urban jungle, it pained you.

What once was your safe haven turned into your cage, chaining you to clock in, clock out. You would go home to a motel nearby, crying into unfamiliar, starched sheets, pitying housekeepers preparing your meals, asking you what was wrong and you couldn’t tell them.

Because you didn’t know.

i'm sad inside, but i know it's for the best, right? you had to realize where you drew the line

You didn’t check his social media. You didn’t check his Twitch, his Instagram, his Twitter. You got a new phone, only giving your new number to your work and your parents. With a start, you realized you hadn’t contacted your old high school friends in years. You had lost them all, committing social suicide for Jeon Jungkook. In fact, you had no social media presence, so there was no need to download those apps.

There was nothing on your old phone that you wanted. It sat in the storage unit, forgotten. You didn’t want to turn on your old phone to see the photos, the lock screen of his arms around you, smile on his face from two years ago.

A smile you didn’t even know was real or fake.

i still hate it when you’re not there

You tried to tell yourself you were fine, because moping over Jeon Jungkook was stupid. But you had invested so much. You had given him everything. It was hard to regrow. You were stuffed in this tiny motel room, staring out to the hazy, polluted city, yellow sunlight fighting to be seen.

You sat by the window, clutching your pink flats, remembering Taehyung’s last words to you before you left.

“I looked up the brand and bought you some new ones,” he had said sheepishly. “I felt bad that they got so ruined, all because I asked you to help me with the garden.” He gave you that big, boxy smile. “Just think of them as a parting gift for being such a great tenant.”

You inhaled a deep breath, placing the pale pink flats next to the exact same style but grass-stained, greyed-out, worn ones. You stared at them both.

And made a choice.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

You lifted your head. The scent of flowers, so familiar and comforting, wafted around you, a reassuring embrace. You were wearing a long-sleeved white dress, a brown ribbon around the collar. The pink flats, the ones the owner of the deep baritone voice had gifted you.

That was nearly six months ago now. You had since thrown away the other ones.

Kim Taehyung walked up to you. He was wearing brown overalls and a cream shirt, elbows smeared with dirt. His skin had lightened due to the passing winter, but it was spring now. The flower shop was very busy, but there were other employees, and Taehyung was fixated on you.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Taehyung said quietly, his brown eyes shimmering. “I would have come here a lot more often if I knew.”

You bit you lip and bowed your head politely, smiling at him. Taehyung coughed and rubbed the back of his head, messing up his dark brown hair. It was longer and curlier now, desperately needing a trim.

“I… I came to get carnations. The shop I normally go to ran out.”

You nodded, leading him wordlessly to the red and pink carnations. There was still a good number left, but you had to pick through carefully to find the most beautiful ones for him. He watched you work, chewing on his lip. You held up the large bouquet to him.

“What do you think?” you asked softly.

He smiled at you. “Perfect.” He didn’t ask the price. “Could you make two corsages out of a few of them?”

“Of course. Right this way.”

You brought him to one of the counters, selecting a few blooms to make the corsages. You showed him the available ribbons and he picked a thin, sheer white one. He watched you work, quickly, but delicately, careful not to bruise the petals.

“You became an expert about flowers,” he remarked. “I’m still struggling.”

You smiled. “I’m still learning. It’s very different from what I used to do.” You twisted the ribbon into a perfect bow, using floral wire to secure it.

“You don’t talk to him anymore, do you?”

You shook your head. “Haven’t seen him since that day you threw him down your stairs.”

Taehyung laughed a little too loud, making the patrons stare at him. He coughed nervously, cramming the crumpled brown hat under his arm onto his head. You placed your hand over your lips, trying to hide your chuckle. Your fingertips smelled like phloem sap from the cut stems, sweet and grassy.

Taehyung gazed at you, surrounded by flowers, carnations laid out on the counter.

“Will you… let me take a picture of you?”

You blinked at him, lips parting.

Taehyung reached into his pocket, pulling out an old 35mm film camera. He looked sheepish as he held it up, hesitating.

“Sorry, I just… you look so beautiful, and I don’t want to forget that.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I know it’s a weird habit. But I like to take pictures and I never took one of you.” He looked deep into your eyes.

“I really regret not taking a picture of you.”

Your fingers were still over your mouth. You nodded.

Taehyung held the camera up and snapped a photo.

“He waits for you to get off work every day. It’s been a week now.”

The manager was teasing you, nudging your arm as you tugged on your long camel coat. You smiled at her, an old woman with knowing eyes that had seen and enjoyed a lot of life. Taehyung waved across the street as you made eye contact with him.

“There aren’t men like him anymore, you know,” she said gently. “These kinds of things happened in my generation, but now young people send pictures of flowers instead of the real thing.”

When you thanked the manager and walked out to Taehyung, he held out a small bundle of tiny flowers to you. White cosmos. You stopped, surprised. Breathless as you looked up at him. He was illuminated by a streetlight and the dying sun, the golden hour matching his golden skin. Holding out the white cosmos, shivering in the spring breeze.

“They’re not that pretty,” he said guiltily, stepping up to you. “I’ve been trying to grow flowers for months now and these are the only ones that survived, ahahaha…”

He scratched his head, brushing his hair back.

“I always hoped that if I saw you again, I could show you that I was able to finally grow flowers.” Taehyung laughed, shrugging apologetically. “This is all I got.”

You reached out and took the small bundle from him. They were a bit curled and slightly wilted from being carried around but you smiled at them.

“No one has ever grown flowers for me,” you said quietly.

The tiny yellow centers of each flower were surrounded by white. You counted seven. Taehyung had given you seven flowers. Seven flowers he grew on his own, because he wanted to show you. You placed your fingers on your mouth, the scent of the floral shop returning to you with the action. Your chest felt tight and full, a feeling unlike any other.

“I wanted to grow at least eight,” Taehyung lamented. “Because that would be luckier, but…”

You shook your head quickly, looking up at him. Him and his beautiful brown eyes, a small patch of dirt underneath his cheek. He probably didn’t even know it was there.

“No.”

You removed your hand from your lips and smiled at him.

“Seven is perfect.”

You threw your hands around him and hugged him tightly.

When Jeon Jungkook saw you again, everything was different.

He was distracting himself from school. University was much harder than he thought, especially since he didn’t attend right after high school to pursue his streaming career.

For a long time, he had someone to take care of him, first his mom and then you. Someone to do everything so he could recklessly chase his dreams. But things were different now. He had to suddenly become an adult. It wasn’t because of you. You hadn’t told anyone what happened.

But everyone knew.

One girl had let it slip, and then another and another, and then screenshots were plastered everywhere, all over the internet for anyone to see, not knowing the context, tossing judgements left and right. His parents found out and then his friends, everyone disappointed in him, not surprised that you vanished without a trace. He had to vanish too, every sponsor cutting ties with him immediately, not asking if it was true or not. It was bad for business to be associated with something like that.

Jungkook really regretted it now, but there was nothing he could do to take it back.

That’s why he was sitting in this tiny, one room apartment, using what was leftover from his streaming money to get a degree, saving every penny to his education. At least he hadn’t been so reckless to overspend. You hadn’t let him, always reminding him to save for his future, using your own income to pay for the necessities.

Even now, you were helping him.

Every once in a while, Jungkook would type variations of your old Instagram username into the search bar, wondering if you had ever set it up again. He had asked you to delete it, since you had been getting constant DMs from guys asking you out, sending you unsolicited dick pics. You had agreed, even through you could have fought him or simply privated it.

You had deleted it, Jungkook knew now, because he asked you and you loved him.

It hurt to know that you loved him so dearly and he was too busy feeding his own ego to see it.

When Jungkook saw you again, you were surrounded by flowers.

Your profile picture was a close up shot of your beautiful face, golden sun against your skin, a white cosmos tucked behind your ear. He knew it was you. He could tell by the shape of your lips, the contours of your eyes, even through your eyes were closed. Wearing a white dress, the ruffles fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook was breathless, seeing you again. He scrolled through your pictures. They were mostly of flowers, with captions of how to grow them. Were you a florist now? Some of them were of you in different dresses, surrounded by blue sky and green summer. The smile on your face was so dazzling that he wondered who gave you that smile.

His heart wrenched uncomfortably in his chest.

Or maybe it wasn’t a someone.

There was a time when that smile was his. There was a time when he could make you smile like that, your lips saying his name breathlessly – “Jungkook, Jungkook, look at this!” – showing him something silly or giving him his favorite banana milk with special edition packaging, saying how cute it was, just like him.

He blinked and a droplet fell onto his phone.

Right on your smiling face, hand holding a large straw hat, your pink dress fluttering in the wind.

Jungkook wiped it away, swiping at his tears with the sleeve of his black sweatshirt, wondering why had he taken that smile for granted, why he had drifted away from the safe coast, why he had thought, even for a second, that the days and nights you spent cleaning after him meant that you were keeping yourself busy and away from him, not seeing it for what it was, not seeing that it was your love for him and his own sloppiness that left him here now, staring at your summer as his summer was torn from him by textbooks and lectures.

He shuddered, still looking at the pictures, not wanting to miss a moment, even if they weren’t his moments anymore.

One of your pictures was a bundle of seven white cosmos, a little wilted and sad-looking.

Jungkook read the caption.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t think you’re beautiful. Because there is someone out there who thinks you are. They use every resource they know to give you love, even if it’s clumsy at first. Even if you don’t think you need it or want it.

The tears were really coming now, streaming down his cheeks as Jungkook asked himself why, why did he give this up?

They celebrate you and your love instead of simply tolerating it.

You sat on the edge of the cliff, legs dangling over the side.

Your pink flats were right beside you, and your arms were resting on the wooden fence. The ocean breeze was strong here, salty and cold. But you didn’t feel the cold, because Kim Taehyung had wrapped a thick wool blanket around you two. It was already night, but by the seaside it was still chilly, even in the summer, due to the sea breeze.

He peeled the foil back on a roasted sweet yam, taking off some of the skin so you could bite into it. You tried to take it from him but he shook his head, frowning at you. You laughed and took a bite, scalding your mouth from how hot it was. But it still tasted good.

“I asked my parents if I could have it.”

You looked up at him, trying to blow the steaming air from your mouth in attempt to cool off.

“The cottage?”

Taehyung nodded, taking a bite and wincing. “You’ll never guess what they said.”

You smiled. “What did they say?”

He scowled. “Then pay rent!” He waved a hand to the seaside house behind you two. “They own it! Why do I have to pay rent? I’m their son!”

You giggled, hiding your mouth behind you hand. Taehyung angrily bit into the sweet yam again and choked, forgetting how hot it was. Your giggles turned into full-blown laughter, falling back onto the grass, wool softening your fall. Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you, shaking the yam furiously. The white moonlight glinted off the silver foil. He puffed his cheeks and sighed as your laughter faded out.

You looked up at the stars, realizing how clear the sky was here.

It was nothing like the city.

Even in darkness, the white stars shone against the black, bright and clear. You wouldn’t have seen them if you weren’t here, on your back and looking up at them.

“Anyway, they only said it was a hundred won, so I guess that’s fine,” Taehyung grumbled. “Really made me worried there for a second, sheesh.”

You turned your head to look up at him. “You going to live here?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“No, you are.”

You blinked, taken aback. He rewrapped the yam, determining it was too hot to eat right now. He gazed down at you, smiling a little.

“It’s better than that one room you have in that house. Safer too.”

You chewed on your lip. “But I can’t pay the amount I paid when I rented it…”

Taehyung poked you with the yam. “Weren’t you listening? The rent is a hundred won. No, two hundred for you, since I have to make some profit.”

He laid down next to you, eye to eye now, smile getting bigger.

“Although I hear there’s this annoying gardener that comes around every day caring for the plants.”

You were smiling now too, drawn by his cheeky, boxy grin.

“Really? I think he’s pretty cute. I think that’s how he gets away with it.”

His brown eyes locked with yours.

“Will you let me care for you too?”

The sound of the sea, crashing into the rockface, constructing a new memory for you.

“I know you’ll be much harder than a plant,” Taehyung murmured quietly. “Sorry, that’s a dumb thing to say, I meant–”

You pressed your lips against his, cold air chilling your cheeks, warmth spreading throughout your soul.

When you pulled away, breathless, Taehyung was staring at you, eyes wide. Those three words came to you, words that you thought you were never going to say again, words you had for someone else, but you knew this was the right one, the perfect flower.

The one who struggled to grow seven flowers.

White cosmos.

Just for you.

“I love you, Kim Taehyung.”

The next summer.

Seven flowers. White cosmos, bright, glowing, perfectly shaped. Surrounding your left hand. The ring finger held a princess-cut diamond surrounded by six tiny small ones like petals.

The caption.

He grew them perfectly this time.

Jeon Jungkook sighed heavily, placing his phone back in his pocket. The noise around him was loud, clattering and chattering, now a familiar atmosphere. The black bucket hat was low over his eyes, shrouding them. He pulled his face mask higher, hiding his features, not wanting to be recognized. Internet shame was enough; he didn’t need public shame as well. He already had to switch universities because of it.

Jungkook placed his hand back onto the subway rail, shouldering his backpack, staring out the train window at the black tunnel.

masterpost

#taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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wordsintimeandspace · 4 years ago

Text

All That Haunts Us (1/14)

Jon and Tim have seen their fair share of strange things while working in Research at the Magnus Institute. They still didn’t quite expect to rescue Martin, who has been missing for a year, from a supernatural encounter during one of their investigations. Together, the three of them hunt for answers and try to find a way forward, but they all have things that haunt them.

Meanwhile, Elias sees the perfect opportunity to set his devious plan into motion...

Jon/Martin/Tim, rated T, ~2500 words for this chapter. Read on AO3!

Tim plumps down onto the corner of Jon’s desk without much warning. After months of being friends with Tim Jon supposes he should be used to it by now, but he still startles a little, eyes shooting up from the book he’s been engrossed in for who knows how long. Tim sits there with his arms crossed over his chest, smiling down at him like he’s exactly where he belongs.

“Can I help you?” Jon finally asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I hope so,” Tim says lightly. “But first, I brought lunch.”

He sets a sandwich down in front of Jon. Jon blinks in surprise, and only now notices the rumbling of his stomach and the empty desks around him as everyone else in his shared office has gone out for lunch. “Oh. Sorry, we had planned to meet up, hadn’t we?”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind eating here.” Tim takes a bite of his own sandwich, as if to demonstrate. Jon wrinkles his nose as he continues talking, mouth half full. “Reading anything interesting?”

For a second Jon hesitates - out of all the people in the Research Department, Tim might be the only one to agree with him that ‘The Architecture of Cathedrals in the 15th Century’ is actually interesting. But based on the look in his eyes, Jon suspects he has something more pressing to talk about. “Nothing too important,” he finally says, carefully prying the wrapper away from his food. “What did you need help with?”

“I’ve been working on a case.”

Jon looks up from his sandwich - spicy chicken and cucumber, just what he prefers - and frowns. “The one with the cat, right?”

Tim heaves a melodramatic sigh. “Yes, the one with the lady who claims her cat got eaten by, let me quote, ‘a six foot tall monster with too many legs and teeth’. As if that’s the only logical explanation for an outdoor cat to go missing in London. Never mind, oh, I don’t know, cars and foxes and all that.”

Even as he tries to suppress it, Jon can’t quite help the grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “You sound like you had a bit of a week.”

“Oh, you have no idea. I called every vet and the animal shelter if they’ve seen any unusual injuries. And then I’ve knocked on every door in the area that has a cat flap and asked them if their cat has gone missing in the last year, and I scoured every possible missing pet portal on the entire internet.”

“... and? Did you find anything?” Jon asks when Tim doesn’t continue.

Tim throws his hands up, exasperated. “Of course I found something. Do you have any idea how many cats go missing every year in a city like this, entirely due to natural causes?”

Jon nods. “Okay, I get your point. This still doesn’t answer the question of what you need help with though.”

“Look, I just thought... if there is a monster like that - and I’m not saying there is - it’s big enough to harm more than cats, right? So I looked for missing dogs as well. And then, while I was on a roll and because I was terribly bored, I looked for missing persons.”

At that, Jon raises an eyebrow. He knows Tim is an excellent researcher, thorough in everything he does, but that seems to go even beyond his usual rigour. “You can’t possibly tell me you found an account of a person being eaten by a monster like that. Surely we would have heard of it by now.”

“No, ‘course not.” Tim rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his sandwich before he continues. “This has nothing to do with that. But what I did find was a missing person’s report from about a year ago, and several accounts from the last few months that the building where he used to live is haunted.”

Jon stills, looking at Tim with a frown. “That rather sounds like someone is making a crude joke.”

“At first I thought so too,” Tim says. “But the reports on the hauntings didn’t mention that a person went missing there. And the guy’s address isn’t even public. They couldn’t have known. I had Sasha dig that up for me, along with other details on the case. You know Sasha, right?”

Jon nods - he doesn’t think he’s ever talked to her, but even he can’t escape the Institute gossip when someone transfers from Artifact Storage to another department. And he’s seen her around Research by now, in the last few weeks. “I- yes. But… what kind of ‘haunting’ are we talking about here?”

Tim shrugs. “There seems to be a bunch of evidence. Recordings of hushed voices and weird noises, something like rustling? Blurry figures in the shadows. Cold spots.”

“I’m not sure I would count that as evidence.”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Don’t be such a sceptic.”

Jon frowns. “It is our job to be sceptical.”

“Yeah, sure, but you have to admit it’s a weird coincidence, right? That this building where one person disappeared is supposedly haunted since then?”

Jon bites his lip. He trusts Tim’s instincts. And he can’t deny that there’s something off about this whole thing, even if he can’t put his finger on it. It happens sometimes, that a case just feels… wrong, he supposes. That it comes with a prickle of unease and a shiver down his spine, in a way that is too familiar to ignore. He wonders if Tim feels it as well, or if he just - for some unfathomable reason - wants to get out of interviewing even more cat owners.

“What do you want to do about this, then?” he finally asks, and Tim’s face immediately brightens.

“I want to go view the flat. There’s a rent advertisement online. Perfect opportunity for a bit of snooping.”

“Okay. And you need me for… what, exactly?”

At this Tim smiles - a bit mischievous, which is his usual expression, but also a bit bashful, which is a rare sight for someone as self-assured as Tim. Jon can’t help but feel a bit nervous about that, and reaches for his long cold mug of tea.

“I need you to pose as my boyfriend,” Tim says calmly, and Jon promptly chokes as he takes a sip.

“What?” he finally manages to get out as soon as he can breathe again. His cheeks are burning, but Tim just gives him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the back.

“You heard me. Come on, help me out there buddy.”

“But… why?”

Tim lets out a long sigh. “Look, I first tried to be honest, but when I called the landlord and mentioned the Magnus Institute he swore at me and hung up. The rent advertisement is just the backup plan. I need you to be with me and take over the speaking to make sure he doesn’t recognize me.”

For a moment, Jon can only stare at him. “I still don’t understand why I’d have to be your boyfriend. Can’t I be your flatmate?”

“It’s a one bedroom apartment. He’s not going to believe we’re flatmates.”

“What about Sasha? Can’t you ask her?” Jon asks, a bit helplessly.

Tim gives him a long look. “Jon, I’m trying very hard not to be offended that you really don’t want to fake date me, but you’re not making it easy.”

“I- I’m not-” Jon splutters before heaving a sigh. “I- fine. Fine. I’ll do it.”

Tim cheers, even as Jon glowers at him. “Oh, this is fantastic,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “I’ve always wanted to do something like this. Can I call you a pet name?”

Heat rises in Jon’s cheeks. He tries his best to glare even as his stomach swoops at the idea, for reasons he resolutely does not want to examine. “Absolutely not.”

“Hold your hand?”

“No.”

Tim lets out a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re no fun.”

“This is supposed to be work, not fun.”

“I can multitask and do both at once, Jon.”

Suppressing a groan, Jon rolls his eyes at him, and decides to just move on. “When do you want to do this?”

“Okay, so, I need you to call to set up an appointment. We can-”

Abruptly, Tim stops. He goes still, the excited grin slipping off his lips. He’s not looking at Jon anymore, his eyes instead fixed on something behind him.

Jon whirls around in his chair, and startles when his gaze falls on Elias Bouchard, head of the Magnus Institute, standing in the doorway to his office. As usual, he is wearing an impeccable grey suit and a smile that never quite matches the piercing look in his eyes. Somehow, there’s always something unnerving about him, although Jon can’t put his finger on it.

“Um. Hello, Mr. Bouchard,” he starts slowly.

Elias’ smile widens just a little bit. “Jonathan. I’ve told you before, call me Elias,” he says smoothly. “And Timothy. Just the man I wanted to speak to.”

Tim winces and sits up a little straighter. “Of course. What can I help you with?”

Elias fixes Tim with a long stare that makes Jon squirm in his seat. “I had a rather unpleasant call with one Mr. Abbott earlier,” Elias finally says, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “He complained that someone from the Magnus Institute asked to see one of his rental properties to investigate a case.”

“I’m just doing some regular follow-up, Sir,” Tim says, a bit defensively. Jon finally looks away from Elias towards Tim, and watches the crease between his brows deepen as Elias continues.

“Of course. I’m sure you were perfectly polite, Timothy. Mr. Abbott, however, was quite clear that he believes an investigation like this will hurt his carefully crafted image. And I just couldn’t help but wonder why you were contacting him when you were supposed to work on the… what was it, the case of Mrs. Mitchell, I believe? Regarding the disappearance of her cat?”

“Err. Yes, I-”

“Are the cases connected?” Elias asks, a sudden sharpness in his voice that makes Jon flinch. Tim’s mouth twists, as if he’s trying hard to suppress a grimace.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Tim says hesitantly. “I just thought-”

“In that case, I would advise you to focus on the work you were assigned, Mr. Stoker.” The tone in Elias’ voice makes it very clear that he won’t accept any objections. Nevertheless, the smile on his lips doesn’t falter. “We wouldn’t want to get any more complaints, would we?”

“I-” Tim stops himself, letting out a sigh. “Of course, Sir.”

“Since it seems you might have gotten bored with the Mitchell case, I’m sure you have already conducted all necessary research and can deliver the report to my desk by this evening. Or am I mistaken?”

Tim’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t protest. “Sure,” he grumbles.

“Excellent,” Elias says, the sudden sharpness in his voice gone as quickly as it came. He gives them both a short nod. “Have a good day, gentlemen.”

With that, Elias turns on his heels and walks away. He’s out of sight as soon as he turns a corner down the corridor, but still, Jon can’t help but stare after him. Beside him, Tim lets out a pitiful groan.

“This evening?” Tim buries his face in his hands. “I had until next week to do the report. I haven’t even started it.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says with a wince. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nah. Don’t think so. But thank you.” Tim looks up with a small smile and stands, wrapping up the remains of his sandwich. “I’ll best get back to work if I want to have this done by five.”

Jon lets out a small hum, but he’s still distracted by what just happened. Again, he stares down the corridor, as if Elias might reappear any second. He can’t shake the feeling of his eyes on him.

“Are you alright?” Tim asks. Jon startles a little and looks back at him. Tim is watching him with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Yes,” Jon says hesitantly, chewing on his bottom lip. “It’s just… that was strange, wasn’t it?”

Tim shrugs. “Yeah. But everything about Bouchard is strange.”

“I suppose. But this was...” Jon hesitates. This was more than strange, he wants to say. This feels like Elias doesn’t want us to investigate whatever is going on in that haunted flat. But that’s a silly thought, isn’t it? Jon shakes his head. “Nevermind. Good luck with the report.”

Tim gives him a pained smile. “Thanks,” he says miserably, and finally shuffles back towards his office.

That afternoon, as much as Jon tries to go back to his book, he can’t quite stop thinking. He can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong, in a way that makes him jittery and anxious and makes it impossible to focus on the words in front of him. He stays late to make up for it, and when he finally calls it a day, the other researchers that share his office have already left. Jon puts on his coat and grabs his bag, and goes to check on Tim.

The door to Tim’s office is still open, although all the desks are currently unoccupied. Tim’s desk is a bit of a mess, filled with piled up papers and books and too many empty cups of tea. With their earlier conversation about the case still on the forefront of his mind, Jon gives in to the temptation to step closer and skim through the texts scattered on the desk.

It doesn’t take long until his gaze falls onto what looks like the copy of a police report. Carefully, he pulls the paper out from underneath a book. It’s undoubtedly the missing person’s report Tim has mentioned. The address fits to the area of the case he was working on. Jon starts reading, and immediately stills.

It hits him suddenly that Tim had never mentioned the name of the missing person. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that there are actual people behind the cases they’re researching. But there’s the name, right next to a photograph.

In the photo, Martin Blackwood is looking directly at the camera, a small smile on his lips. Jon takes a moment to take him in - the pudgy cheeks covered in freckles, the sad eyes, the light brown hair falling in soft curls around his face. An actual person, with a life and friends and family who must wonder what has happened to him after he disappeared a year ago. Who maybe still have hope that one day, he will come back.

So far, Jon was only a little irritated that Elias intervened in their investigation. Now, he’s suddenly furious.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Jon pulls out his phone and takes a photograph of the report. He places it back on Tim’s desk and leaves.

As he walks to the tube station, he pulls up the address on his phone. He takes the train that goes in the opposite direction of where he lives, changes trains twice, and finally, half an hour later, steps out into the chill September air. By now, it’s already getting dark. Jon pulls up the collar of his coat to protect himself against the cold, and begins to walk towards the haunted flat where Martin Blackwood disappeared.

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fic #jonmartim #jontim #my fic #my fic: all that haunts us #it's heeere #my very first tma multichapter #and actually my longest ever fic #that I actually edit and upload #I have an entire rough draft done so I think regular updates will be fine?

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joheunsaram · 4 years ago

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To Make A Power Couple - 5.5 (knj)

Chapter 5.5: “No. We had our first makeup.”

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon and Y/N talk about their relationship.

word count- 2.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers, angst (😱)

warnings- none! just extreme fluff

a.n- This didn’t fit well in the next chapter but I wanted to end the angst in the last chapter on a better note. Let me know what you think.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

Namjoon awoke earlier than the sun the next day, his head heavy and his eyes sore, evidence of last night’s vulnerability etched into his features. Unlike most times you weren’t tangled up in his arms, instead he saw you on the other side of the bed, curled up in a fetal position, one hand between your knees while the other rested under your cheek, making your mouth pout. He frowned at how your eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in your sleep, making you look distressed.

Sighing, he rose up, walking to the other side of the bed to his luggage and digging around for painkillers for his headache. Before he walked to the fridge to grab water, he pulled the comforter higher over you, lightly caressing your cheek, his eyes trailing the necklace around your neck, the pendant resting on the sheets next to your hand.

He sat on the couch, pulling your laptop on the coffee table towards him and turning it on to be greeted by the proposal you were supposed to be working on yesterday. The document seemed to be littered with little comments, and he felt anger flare within his chest as he read them. He knew he was snooping, and he should just minimize the window and go on Netflix as he was initially planning, but he couldn’t help it.

Y/N, are you an idiot?! This is not possible! That is not how this company works

Please fix this. We know you are better than this rubbish.

Let’s discuss this when you get back from showing off in Detroit… this is nonsense.

The comments were too casual and berating to be from your staff and he could only assume they were from your board members. You never talked much about your relationship with the board other than the occasional complaint about wanting to buy them out to have full control, but Namjoon never expected this amount of disrespect from them. As he looked at your sleeping form across the room, he felt a bubble of guilt rise within him. Now that the haze of jealousy and self-hate he was in last night had disappeared, he couldn’t help but realize how mean he had been in his comments to you. If you were dealing with all of this from your board, you didn’t need to be dealing with it from him too. He wondered why you never shared this with him, as he rubbed his face and leaned his head back over the couch. He had seen you become frighteningly more stressed and tired over the last month but he always stopped himself from asking questions, thinking he was projecting his own troubles on to you. In hindsight, he should have known better. Over the past month, Harry had texted him twice to ask if you were doing alright, and even at drinks on Friday, Siwon had pulled him aside to remind him to make sure you relax this weekend. He should’ve known better.

He felt a pang in his heart as he thought about your relationship. It had started with a promise of honesty, of never hiding yourselves from each other, but somehow the distance and the stress had made you both recede into yourselves. Unlike Namjoon, you were the kind of person who never seemed to wear her emotions on her sleeve, and he wondered if you felt similarly to how he had been feeling these past months with your work too. Were you also caging yourself in, afraid to share your stress with him?

“Joonie…?” You groggily traced your hand on his side of the bed to find it cold and suddenly last night came back to you and you feared for the worst. You had thought you had resolved your fight. Sure you hadn’t talked about it fully yet but feeling the emptiness made your heart stop. Was he gone? Shooting up, all traces of sleep were gone as you searched the room for him, eyes still puffy from sleep calling his name again, louder this time.

“What’s wrong? I’m right here, babe.” He walked over and you relaxed watching him climb into bed, his back against the headboard as he kissed your forehead, while you moved to sit cross legged between his long legs in front of him.

“Sorry.” He felt you shake slightly as he smoothed your hair to comfort you. You looked up at him, your palm coming to rest against his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Thank you for last night.” He gazed at you, hoping to convey his true gratitude, his hand wrapping arounds yours in your lap. People had always left him alone when he was in that headspace, and he was amazed that you had not only confronted him but managed to pull him out of it. “I’m sorry you had to see me that way.”

“Don’t apologize.” You looked at him sternly before a blush crept on your cheeks and you averted your gaze to your joined hands. Now that he was in a better place, you felt your guilt from last night coming back. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I made it hard for you to believe that I love you.”

“It’s not that… I think I just had a fucked up idea of how girlfriends show love.” He smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I just got insecure about you not being jealous or territorial… I don’t know. It’s pretty dumb” He chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh… I was jealous.” You looked at him with wide eyes as he looked at you with shock. He was sure you were trying to placate him but he wanted to hear your reasoning. “I… I rationalize my feelings. I don’t go off the first thing, you know?” You shrugged sheepishly as you continued. “I feel a thing and then I go ‘hmm wrong reaction, let’s fix that’ so yeah of course I was jealous, are you kidding me? But then I thought it wasn’t an adult response to feel like that so I pretended till I was okay with it.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh at that. He spent two days feeling like he was defected for being jealous of random men, even Yoongi. Of course you had more restraint over your emotions than him. He was in awe of you and he felt like a complete idiot. He leaned forward to pull you closer, arms around your waist to pull him to his chest and kissed you once, before you pushed him off.

“Hey! Stop laughing at me! I’m being vulnerable here!” You pouted, moving your arms around his neck. You knew he wasn’t laughing at you and you were glad he took your confession so well. To be completely honest, you had always felt your trait of rationalizing your feelings was your worst - it created a rift between you and other people who often deemed you as cold and heartless. It pained you that this same trait had made Namjoon so insecure.

Namjoon to his credit, stopped laughing immediately, instead looking at you with a fond smile. “I’m sorry baby. I’m laughing at myself - at how much of an idiot I am.” He once again kissed you, his lips moulding to yours, moving languidly. “I can’t believe that was my barometer for your love. Shit, I’m a fucking idiot.” He giggled, his lips a few centimeters away from yours.

“You’re not an idiot, Joonie.” You frowned a little, cupping his face as you looked into his deep brown eyes. He poked lightly at the corner of your mouth, hoping to remove the frown, looking at you seriously before speaking.

“I hope you know, you don’t have to filter yourself for me, Y/N. You can tell me if you feel jealous or stressed or sad or angry or whatever. I won’t ever judge you.” You felt lighter hearing his words, even though you knew that by now your feelings filter was pretty much an automatic response, it felt nice to hear that you didn’t need to be as careful around him.

Seeing your smile, Namjoon kissed you again, moving your backwards till you laid down under him. His kisses were relaxed, slow, as if he had all the time in the world, and it made your heart blossom. However, you knew that you still needed to talk about his feelings from last night. It wasn’t like you to let things stew, and so before things could get more heated you suggested going to the roof to watch the sunrise. Namjoon finally agreed after a few more lingering kisses, both of you changing into your hoodies and sweats before walking up to the rooftop.

You both laughed when you reached the top of the stairs at the obscenely large no entry sign that was much more evident now that you weren’t in a wild haze of emotions. Choosing to pointedly ignore it once again, you open the door to walk to the edge of the railing. It seemed that the rain last night had cleared the air, the cool morning breeze feeling fresher as you looked over downtown Detroit, the first rays of sunlight breaking over the shiny skyscrapers.

After a few minutes of enjoying the view, you turned to your boyfriend, intertwining your fingers. He had a small smile on his face as he looked over the city, his other hand under his chin, elbow resting on the railing. The first few rays of sunlight reflected off his face, making him look almost ethereal. “Joon, can I ask you something?” Still looking at the view, he hummed in approval. “Why didn’t you tell me you collapsed last week?”

“Probably the same reason you didn’t tell me how hard your board was hounding you for this proposal.” He looked at you pointedly, squeezing your hand, as you let out a sigh.

The cat was out of the bag for the both of you. It felt odd to talk about your stresses after so long, and therein lies the problem. The two of you started this long distance with promises of keeping each other updated but started rethinking that as soon as the stress piled on. Neither of you wanted to burden each other with your stress, but the more you both talked about it you realized the two of you had just been disrespecting each other, assuming the other couldn’t handle your reality and taking away their autonomy to make that decision. You both talked in hushed whispers as if discussing a shameful secret. Well, you guess it was pretty shameful the way you had been hiding in the bathroom at work to avoid talking to people, or that your one glass of whiskey after work had turned to four.

Namjoon assured you he wanted to share your burden and he wanted to share his with you too. He told you about his own shame - of trolling the internet for self-esteem destroying messages - chuckling at your proclamation that you would report every single message till they didn’t exist. It felt nice to finally tell someone, tell you, about his tortuous midnight habit. He also shared his stress about interviews, the anxiety that comes with having to translate for everyone and making sure he does the good job at representing not only his band but his country internationally.

“Okay this cannot happen again. We can’t fuck our communication up this bad every time we do long distance!” you exclaimed after almost two hours of you catching each other up on your less than ideal month. Namjoon was now sitting on the floor, back against the railing as you sat between his legs, your back on his chest and his chin resting on your shoulder. You squeezed his hand in yours. “We need to strategize how to be better!” You turned sideways as Namjoon burst out laughing.

“Damn you really are a CEO. You want to strategize our relationship?” Namjoon had calmed down enough to look at you incredulously.

“Joonie! I’m just trying to make sure we don’t fight again. I didn’t like it.” Namjoon sees your face fall at that as you look to the ground, a little sigh escaping, before he lifts your chin to look at you. You looked at him sadly. “We really had our first fight, huh?”

“No. We had our first makeup” He looks at you with conviction, eye contact not wavering in the least before he kisses you softly on the lips, watching a small smile evaporating your frown. “Okay let’s do it. What’s your strategy, boss?”

And so the two of you came up with three rules to foolproof the rest of your long distance. One, you switched your calls from goodnight to good morning calls, when both of you had enough mental semblance to stitch a proper sentence together (and so you could scold each other if you ended up pulling unnecessary all-nighters). Two, you would never assume the other person was not mentally ready to hear about your stress but would instead ask if they were okay with listening to you. You were to never assume you were a burden on the other person, because you both wanted to support each other. And lastly, your safewords were no longer for the bedroom, instead you both decided to use the colour system on your fights or heavier conversations, giving each other the opportunity to call yellow or red on a topic you weren’t ready to discuss. You didn’t know if this strategy was the best, but you would never know unless you tried it out.

With the sun getting higher and your stomachs growling for sustenance you decided to stand up, looking at the view one last time before venturing downstairs. The city was alive, cars moving around, people rushing to their Sunday plans. It was beautiful. You leaned back, closing your eyes as you took in the sun. “Ah! Healing rooftops!”

“You know, I don’t get the ‘healing power of rooftops’ thing you have.” Namjoon looked at your blissed out face as he put his arm around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at the view, thinking of last night. “All I see are empty offices. Doesn’t it feel lonely?”

“Nah, Joonie. You’re looking at it wrong. For every empty office that means that that person is home safe with their loved ones. Isn’t that the opposite of lonely?” He was taken aback by your positive spin on the situation. He smiled at you warmly as his arms tightened around you. He loved that even though you always said you were cold and people called you Ice Queen, all he ever saw was a soft-hearted optimist. He kissed your cheek as you giggled.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you too, Joonie.”

————

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#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #rm x reader #rm fluff #namjoon smut #rm smut #rm angst #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #btsnoonanet #purplearmynet #ficswithluv #namjoon series #namjoon fanfic #bts idol au

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sugamontana93 · 4 years ago

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Tony Montana (18+) BTS FF Chapter 1

You can also find this story on wattpad @SugaMontana93

https://www.wattpad.com/user/SugaMontana93

"Highly Elusive and Dangerous Chinese Mafia Boss, Yong Go Sil, was found murdered four days ago in ShangHai. It is rumored that he had ties to Seoul via family, but nothing has been confirmed. He has been wanted by the Chinese Government, along with South Korean and American agencies due to the wreckless drug sales, senseless acts of violence and murders spanning from continent to continent over the last twenty years. Police believe that another crime family, also known as Blood Kings, were responsible for the mafia leaders' demise. If you have any tips leading to The Yong Mafia and The Notorious South Korean mafia 'The Blood Kings', please call our hotline at XXX-XXX-XXXX. This is Park Reina with Seoul Now News."

Yoongi smirked as he turned off the news and settled down on the leather couch in Hybe's conference room. The other members smirked at each other before their manager, Bang Si-Hyuk, entered with a stern face. Their manager, no matter how wholesome and sweet he was in the public, knew exactly who and what BTS were behind the scenes. He was the one who passed it on to them. Yoongi's knowledge of Daegu sealed their fate the day they signed the contract with Big Hit. At the beginning, not a single one of the seven knew what was happening until Bang approached them with more opportunities that life as simple idols wouldn't be able to give them. Namjoon may be the leader of BTS, but it was Yoongi that dealt with the rest.

"I see you went through with it," Bang said as he sat down at the head of the table. "Mind telling me how you managed to find him in such a short amount of time?"

"I did it," Taehyung smirked as he looked at his manager. "Yoongi gave myself and my soldiers access to some of the things you left behind. The asshole was slick, I give you that. If it wasn't for Jungkook's keen eye, I would have never gotten Hyunsoo to tail him for as long as I had. Seokjin-Hyung pulled the trigger himself."

"And you managed to go to China to do that," Bang lifted his brow. "I don't see how that's possible."

"We didn't go to China. He was here. In Seoul," Seokjin added. "We don't know why he was here, but he knew he had been made. It was actually quite easy to get rid of him."

"How'd you get his body to Shanghai?"

"Jungkook's soldiers. Most of them are based in China to keep an eye out for other mafia that may come as a threat to us."

"For him to not fight is strange to me," Bang murmured. "Yoongi, are you going to look into this?"

"Already on it, sir," The mafia leader smiled back. "I should have some results by the end of the week."

"Even though I'm not the boss anymore, please keep me informed. I want to keep the authorities away as much as I can."

"Of course, sir."

"Now," Bang said while clapping his hands, "let's move on to more calm matters. Yoongi, your stylist Jaenie has put in her notice to leave the company. She and her husband have just found out that they're expecting twins and she'll need to be on bed rest due to her pre-existing health conditions."

"Aw, babies," Jungkook cooed, making the others laugh. "Good for her. I heard her telling Yoongi-hyung that they were trying."

"I'm happy for her," Yoongi grinned. The stereotype that surrounded Mafia leaders wasn't how Yoongi was. How you saw him on stage and on candid footage, that was him. Truly him. He wasn't mean or heartless to people that worked with him, his elders, his family or anything of the sort. The only time people knew how dark he was, was when the mafia side kicked in. He had his own persona. He was the infamous 'Tony Montana of South Korea' afterall. He only made people fear him when they needed it. That's why no one was brave enough to cross The Blood Kings.

"Which brings us to our next point," Bang said while pulling out a file. "Your replacement stylist will be starting tomorrow."

"But I thought Jaenie Noona would be here for two more weeks?"

"I told her to take these extra two weeks early. I'm paying her quadruple her usual salary and a hefty bonus to help with any things she needs for the babies. I also started them a trust fund because Jaenie has been one hell of a good employee."

"She dealt with Yoongi's hormonal early teenage years. You should have just given her the presidential medal of honor," Seokjin snickered. Yoongi shot him a go to hell look and then sighed.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he chuckled. "So, who is she?"

Bang opened the file and pulled out her resume.

Name: Grei Romano

Age: 29

Birthdate: January 1st, 1992

Born: Sicily, Italy

Parent's: Luca and Soleil Romano

Graduated Seoul School of Arts 2010, Licensed Cosmetologist and Esthetician 2011, Bachelor's Degree in Communications 2015.

IQ: 148

Current Residence: Seoul, South Korea

Languages: English, Cantonese, Italian, Korean, Japanese, Spanish and French.

Marital Status: Single

Children: 0

Bank: Seoul National Bank

Bank Account Balance: 1,425,504.00₩

"Damn. Are we hiring a stylist or recruiting someone into the mafia," Namjoon whistled as he looked down at all of the information. "She's smart."

"And broke," Taehyung said while crossing his arms. "She has two licenses and a huge degree. Why so little money?"

"She lives in Hannam, so it's all got to be going to normal bills. Relax, Taehyung. I checked her out and did a thorough background check. You know how I am about hiring people that know who you are as BTS." Bang pulled out her photograph and slid it across the table. "This is who will be coming tomorrow. I've given strict instructions to the staff if anyone else comes and does not match this picture, we'll be calling the police. I can't have you all exposed to crazy fans coming in here again or have anyone snooping in BK business."

Yoongi stared at her photograph and his mouth watered. She was exquisite, breathtaking. Nothing could come close to describing how beautiful she was. Her eyes were what drawed him in. They were beautiful...but somehow familiar.

"Hyung, pick your jaw up." Jimin bursted out laughing and snatched the picture from Yoongi's clutches. "She's hot."

"Coming from you, I know not to worry about you getting yourself in trouble with her," Bang said as he looked over his glasses. "Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi possibly. But not you."

"How do you know I won't try anything with her, Bang-ssi?"

Si-hyuk crossed his arms and lifted his brow. "I've known you for eleven years, Jimin. I also know that you and Hoseok are dating." Jimin and Hoseok are still in their chairs and look at the other members with wide eyes. "I also know that Namjoon and Jin and Taehyung and Jungkook are dating. You boys trying to hide everything from me has been a sight. Now stop pretending." Bang motioned from them to speak while six of the members looked like their manager had just shot their dog. "Look, I don't care what you all do. Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook, I know you're gay. I'm your second father. I know these things. Just like I know that Hoseok is bisexual, Jin and Namjoon have never thought about dating the same sex until they met each other and Yoongi's pansexual. You all know this about each other. I'm sure you've all had your private talks. It's my job to know these things, boys. I don't care. You're all happy right?"

They all nodded in response.

"Great."

Yoongi's phone began to ring, jerking everyone out of the awkward atmosphere. "Fuck," Yoongi growled as he answered his phone. "What is it, Han?" Yoongi's hand gripped the table as Han related valuable information to him. His knuckles were white, face as cold as stone as he listened to Han break down everything that has happened over the last hour. He slammed his phone down and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. When they opened, Yoongi was gone.

The Mafia Boss was standing still as stone in his place, eyeing the members and his manager as he tried to steady his breathing.

"What is it, son," Bang said while standing up.

Yoongi chuckled and adjusted the rings on his finger.

"Seems like Yong Go Sil has someone taking over his mafia."

"Who?" The rest all stood waiting for further instruction.

"His daughter."

#bts #btsau #minyoongi #junghoseok #parkjimin #kimtaehyung #jeonjungkook #btssmut #btsmafia #taekook #jihope #namjin #btsfanfic #agustd

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noodlesfluff · 5 years ago

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The Fire Nations Assassin - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.1)

SUMMARY: y/n has been raised as an assassin and has the opportunity to gain her freedom. What could go wrong? Well… turns out the person she was assigned to kill wasn’t the actual threat.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: death. Kinda gory not really but like 1 descriptive sentence about death I think? Swearing. Maybe a bit angsty? Not really. Abusive family relationship. Grammar, spelling and punctuation.

A/N: Hiya friends this is my first atla fic! Hope you like it :)) There will most likely be more parts to this idk lolol. Also! Second day in a row posting wow! We love procrastinating uni work. NEW EDIT: hi everyone! future chapters for this series WILL BE POSTED ON @noodlesfluffy !!!! This account will NOT be used for this series’ future chapters :)

also! italics = flashback

part 2

20 minutes until midday.

This is it. You completed your final mission and you would be free at last. Finally. Zemin, your wonderful guardian and boss said that the prize for today's target would give you enough gold pieces that you can finally go home. Well, you didn’t have a home. Not anymore, but anywhere away from the Fire Nation? You will gladly take it with open arms. Honestly at first you were surprised, freedom at the age of 13 seems way to easy. You didn’t know a life other than constantly fighting for the gold pieces that would pay off your debt with Zemin for raising you…but all the other assassins in the nation are still paying off their debts with their trainers. Then again, you’re the most feared assassin in the Fire Nation, and highly sought after. Even if you haven’t been on the scene for as long the others, nor do they realise you’re literally a 13-year-old girl.

You suppose that made it easier when you entered the palace in your finest robes claiming you’re the niece of the Fire Lords general. Little did the guards know, you were about to kill said uncle.

You hit another dead end.

“Fuck.” Why are there so many corridors? You know you can’t leave the way you came in, it’s too suspicious. The guards would know something is wrong. Why would you leave the palace before you got a chance to see the general, your “uncle”, before he wins his Agni Kai?

You’ve never had to enter the palace before today, nor did you ever have to really go near it. Zemin had given you a vague location of the exits, yet somehow failed to mention how stupidly big the palace was. That asshole. Normally the ones who are commissioning you to kill come from within the palace. You never know who they are, but what you do know is that you kill those who come too close to replacing them from their oh so treasured positions next to the Fire Lord. Nobel scum. Ironically, the ones you do kill are no better than them, hiding in the taverns in the middle of the night cheating on their wives. So why the hell did you have to visit the palace now.

10 minutes until midday.

This by far had to be the worst mission you have ever gone on. Turning yet another corner you try to navigate an exit leading to somewhere, anywhere out of this damned palace and as far away from the body. You knew this would’ve been a lot easier if you were given at least a day to snoop the exits but you only feel your fire rage inside you thinking about the argument you had with Zemin last night.

“What do you mean the target is in the palace?!”

Zemin being the kind and loving guardian he is, didn’t even bother to face you. “Look y/n. You have one shot to kill the general tomorrow. No later. If you miss your chance, you’re just going to have to keep doing the regular jobs. Just be grateful you have this opportunity. They specifically wanted you to do it anyway. You’re the cleanest in the game. You’re also the only one who manages to get away every time without using your bending. If I’m honest, that’s just a compliment to me.”

Scoffing you move towards him. “This is suicide! You can’t expect me to enter that palace and kill the general! I’ll get caught without time to prepare, I don’t even know what the inside of the palace is like!!”

He finally looks you in the eye, unphased. “It doesn’t matter what you want or what you know y/n. If you fail this mission, you might as well die with your freedom. There is an Agni Kai tomorrow at the palace, and it seems that whoever commissioned you to kill the general, hopes you can act as a safeguard for whoever is on the other side.”

Your heart skips a beat. “An Agni Kai?! You can’t possibly think I can get away with this! Everyone in the nation knows how binding they are. Even if I do manage to kill the general, they’ll hunt me down! I won’t make it out alive!”

Fire rages behind Zemin’s eyes, “You will make it. I have trained you for the past seven years of your life! You are the only one capable of completing this mission and you should know this! Trainers all around the nation have countless students who have died on missions you can complete in an hour. Do you know why?! Because they spread their knowledge too wide and too thin. If there is one thing my brother and I have in common its that who you pass your knowledge down to must be worthy. You are worthy Y/N. Now, sit. Lets eat, and I will give you the briefing for tomorrow. If there is one thing you must remember, it’s that you must kill the general and get out by midday, or else whoever is on the other side of that Agni Kai will most likely die. You are their only hope. I wasn’t told who it was but they must be inexperienced or stupid.”

As you stare at the painting of the general on the dining room table you know one thing is certain. They are inexperienced and stupid, especially since I’m about to die for this person.

2 minutes until midday.

In a rushed panic you follow a random group of people walking into a public area. Maybe you can blend in the crowd and find an exit before they notice that one of the participants for the Agni Kai is lying on the floor of his office with a nice and wide slit to his throat.

You almost freeze as you walk through the threshold after the group before you. Remembering the area on the awful map Zemin showed you of the palace last night, you knew this is where the Agni Kai was being held. You wanted to puke. It was almost as if the spirits were laughing at you, payback for all the lives you’ve taken. Feeling too exposed, you stand as far to the side as possible, your eyes instinctively scanning the area for any threats, weapons, and most importantly, a fucking exit.

1 minute until midday.

There it is! On the other side of the room you see an exit. This is it. You did it. Making your way as quickly around the duelling area, you almost want to bring a smile to your face. Reaching it in literal record timing, just as you’re about to walk out the door, you notice the crowd goes quiet. That doesn’t seem right. Taking one last glance behind you, you see a Fire Nation flag fall onto the duelling ground.

Midday.

“No….” you think to yourself, “that can’t be!”

You killed the general. You knew you had, you stared at the painting long enough to know you killed the right one. You never make mistakes. Ever. So why was the Agni Kai still happening? As if the spirits wanted to laugh at you in the face, you saw the Fire Lord enter from the other side of the platform. Confused you glance to who he was going to face. Why would you be sent to kill someone who was going to face the Fire Lord? Surely, he could defend himself? Holding back a gasp, it all clicks in your head. You weren’t protecting the Fire Lord from the general, you were protecting a boy about your age on the other side of the platform.

Yet this still doesn’t make sense. Why would the Fire Lord give a boy, who a guard could easily take, the time of day?

To top it all off, the boy seems just a shocked as you. “Please father, I only had the Fire Nations interests at heart. I’m sorry I spoke out of turn!”

Unaffected by his son’s words, the Fire Lord continues to move towards him. “You will fight for your honour.”

As you watch the Fire Nation Prince kneel before his father on the floor, the thought of leaving completely escapes your mind. You knew this was beyond wrong. Even after killing so many, you knew that no innocent child should have to fight for their honour. Especially since you already knew how trivial something like honour was considering how fast you lost yours in order to survive. He shouldn’t have to lose his. Not like this.

“I meant no disrespect. I am your loyal son.”

He continues to walk towards his son. “Rise and fight Prince Zuko!”

The fire inside you rises, almost like it wants to burst out of the traditional top knot on your head. This shouldn’t be happening, you had killed the general to apparently protect the prince, and titles be damned, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk out of that stupid door.

As Zuko places his arms in front of him on the floor, you knew he had no chance. “I won’t fight you!”

Slowly, and almost subconsciously you walk towards the platform as Zemin’s words ring in the back of your mind “…kill the general and get out by midday, or else whoever is on the other side of that Agni Kai will most likely die.”

You almost wanted to let out a painful laugh because it seems you killed the general for no reason at this point.

“You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher!” Zuko’s tear sicken face looked up to his father as if it’s his one last attempt, begging for mercy. You know it’s not enough.

“You are their only hope”

With your heart in your throat, almost feeling your body shake with fear, determination, and adrenaline all rolled into one, you leap onto the platform in front of the Prince’s body as the Fire Lord strikes. Feeling the unbearable heat of his fire on the left side of your body from your neck all the way down to your hip, you let out a scream. Soon enough, you hear Zuko’s join yours.

You want to collapse and cry all at the same time. Partially because of the pain, and partially because Zuko’s scream is the only indicator that you’re failing because he’s getting burnt too. Your mind spins as you feel yourself losing all sense of reality. Wishing the spirits would help you save a person’s life rather than taking one.

After what feels like a lifetime, it stops. Your body shaking as if its still on fire, you fall to your knees feeling paralysed. Your ears are ringing, yet you still hear a soft voice from behind you. “W-who are you?”

You sigh in relief. He’s going to be okay. Yet the moment of relief is gone as soon as it came. The Fire Lord’s voice suddenly controls the room once again. “Someone take away the traitor who dares interfere with the Agni Kai!”

Well fuck.

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chanyeolyh · 5 years ago

Text

aight i’m gonna have to request that none of you look really hard at this account because it is -75% finished and it’s ugly and that’s just not my aesthetic, i swear. i’m stella and i am always late for everything and if you cannot accept that as who i am then... honestly i understand i'm tired of my shit, too. i'm bring this charismatic asshole, chanyeol, to everyone. he's difficult and it's okay if you want to fight him, i understand. message me or like this if you want to plot and i'll come knocking at your inbox door!

* — ⌜ kang1, yoon jeonghan ⌟ ↝ has anyone else seen the kang heir walking around the hill lately ? their name is CHANYEOL and they are the kang’s oldest child. they’re twenty-four and currently a graduate student and paralegal, making their parents proud, i would hope. i heard they can be very playful but lately they’ve been quite manipulative. don’t tell anyone, but someone told me he’s just like his mother. i wonder if that’s true ?

trigger warning: mention of death

∽ to be quite honest chanyeol is the time to taunt you while your parents aren’t looking and get you in trouble while smirking and sticking his tongue out behind your parents back. he’s that bad kid that parents love and compare their children to. doesn’t really really have a reason for being two-faced. blame it on his mother, after all he learnt from the most two-faced person of all. ∽ grew up with a great father (who was kinda absent in his life??? usually busy??? but chanyeol loved his dad and understood) and a not so great mother who crushed him under her expectations. kinda feel like he had it worse growing up, because at first he was the shining star and then after his younger sibling was born, he was deemed a disappointment and the other sibling was promoted for shining star. chanyeol understands. he was better and naturally talented. chanyeol was the type who had to work hard to be acknowledged. thought he’d love no longer being under his mother’s thumb, but turns out he’s a normal kid and still craved his momma’s love and attention. ∽ surprisingly, and probably to his mother’s disappointment, he’s never hated or envied any of his siblings??? even if he was no longer the favorite and his mother had pretty much written him off as “no longer the best”, he freakin’ loves his little buddies and honestly views them as the best things that happened to him??? give him big brother of the year award, will 100% kill for his siblings. ∽ do not get him wrong, he knows just how twisted he can be and is… he hates being compared to his mother, but he’s more like her than he’d ever care to admit, and he blamed her for trying to mold him into a mini her. literally was told that no one in the world mattered except himself, and people were obstacles he had to climb over and use. ∽ does his best to make sure his siblings do not end up like himself or his mother because his own dynamic is toxic and bad and being a manipulative son of a bitch is the last thing he’d want them to be. a little hypocritical because he will adamantly insist they not do something and then turn around and do it himself, but he’s already tainted so he doesn’t see it as a big deal. ∽ siblings can do no wrong in his eyes??? don’t talk bad about him or he’ll make your life hell. king of spreading rumors, but usually has a good reason as to why he’s spreading them… for furthering his own goals or revenge. yep. good fantastic reasons. ∽ the death of his father kinda made him worse??? his father was always telling him not to do this, to consider other people, etc. but he doesn’t have that influence any more and his mom??? she plays so dirty??? silently at war with her, but damn do they look like a perfect mother - son out in the public eye. his mother was probably indifferent toward him at first, however since he’s been snooping around she’s also trying to bring him down. unfortunately for her, he’s a better snake than she is. ∽ the local polite thinks he’s a bad son, however, because he straight up accused her of doing something fishy but all they saw was a heartbroken woman sobbing loudly about losing her husband. they were old and quick to jump to a damsel’s defense, so the case is closed but he’ll pry it back open with his teeth if that’s what it takes. ∽ was going to pursue a career in music (in fact graduate with a degree in music), however now he’s interested in law. doesn’t plan to be a prosecutor, however being a paralegal has its perks and he’s learnt a lot. working to become a private investigator because as long as he doesn’t get caught, he can be as dirty as he wants. ∽ has his own place, but depending on where his siblings are located (if they also live alone/with him/with their mother), he often stays at the family home to be closer to his siblings. might be a dad bit paranoid something might happen to them. but behind closed doors, his mother has begun to threaten him and the easiest way to attack would be his beloved siblings. doesn’t have a fear that their lives are in danger, but wouldn’t put it past her to try and turn them against him??? ∽ actually really likes investigating things and the prosecutor he’s a paralegal for really let’s him be hands on so he’s learnt what he can’t do, what he can do and what he can’t do but can so long as he doesn’t get caught. ∽ honestly, chanyeol is a snarky and sarcastic guy, but it’s not hard for him to make friends either??? somehow charming and affable, but it’s really hard to know whether or not to take him seriously??? also have to be mad careful what you say around him, he's very interested in drama and he will spread things around if it benefits him or he simply does not like you. :) ∽ naturally flirtatious but 95% of the time he’s just trying to have fun and doesn’t really mean anything. noncommittal af. has had maybe one or two serious relationships and in those he either broke someone’s heart or someone broke his. and yet his bedroom is a revolving door so. honestly hooks up with people as a stress reliever but at least he’s up front about it, if you catch feelings it’s not on him; he’s surprisingly against leading someone he’s sleeping with on. unfortunately, he is not against leading someone he's not sleeping with on. ∽ surprisingly playful??? likes laughing at others??? really likes riling others up, if you give him a good reaction you’re just gonna be a target for him. usually not malicious, it’s just entertaining for him. ∽ veryveryvery private. he’ll ask a hundred questions about your personal life, but his lips are sealed in regards his. cryptic af and also very flippant??? his mind can change on a dime??? ∽ confrontational??? kinda??? but more as a source of entertainment… he’s got issues. ∽ very fake. very much a chameleon in that he changes colors to fit any situation. a pathological liar, kinda??? lies a lot. ∽ kinda just a bad guy. but it’s because he has hard time opening up to others and being vulnerable??? his mom really messed him up so he’s a less put together version of her. less lethal as well, as in he’s actually capable of loving and caring about others.

give me enemies. people who can't stand him and people he can't stand. did he start a rumor about your muse? can't stand his fake persona? someone who got in trouble as a kid or teenager? couldn't stand your parents constantly compared you to saint chanyeol? maybe he's jealous of your muse for some reason? called him out on his mommy issues and struck a nerve so now he's trying to get back at you?

give me an ex best friend who everyone was like, "if you see one, the other isn't too far behind" and then one year they were at each others throats??? why??? what happened??? no one knows, but everyone knows it had to be big.

there's a rumor going around that you're dating. ironic because the two don't even get along??? but he loves getting under your skin so he's feeding the flames and subtly suggesting that the rumor isn't baseless.

need a convincing fake boyfriend??? chanyeol volunteers for tribute, but you owe him one. :)

a best friend or two??? "chanyeol your a son of a bitch, but that's okay", you can see past the grime and know he has a heart of... well, not gold, but it's shiny! that bestie who goes out and gets drunk with him and listens to him wax poetic about his piano. probably one of few who know he actually really did love the piano.

someone who thinks he's crazy for quietly investigating his own mother??? probably doesn't have all the details on his family life, and because you're taking such a "noble" approach he can't stand you.

general friends??? ride or dies??? partner's in crime??? friends only when drunk, anything but when sober??? soft friends he must protect??? a squad of manipulative assholes???

he doesn't do relationships and that's probably because you broke his heart. :(

absolutely no one is surprised he broke your heart, everyone told you he was bad news but you didn't listen. what happened??? do feelings linger??? or just bitterness??? does he feel bad or not???

friends with benefits. no strings attached so it's all cool. or maybe you're getting attached??? or, what the hell, he's getting attached???

you two fist fought once. and you'll do it again.

someone who wants to help him with his investigation??? honestly, he might show it, but it'd mean so much to him.

aspiring pianist or just a curious hobbyist who is bugging him to help them learn how to play??? for some reason, he just can't say no.

someone very unlikely that he has a crush on??? no one would guess he'd ever fall for this person and even he's super confused???

people with cute, innocent crushes on him. he'll either think it's really cute or he's about to tease the hell out of you if he finds out.

an ex, but it's complicated??? they keep coming back to each other and then swear it won't happen again.

a childhood friend who misses the sweet boy he used to be??? chan's very uncomfortable around them because they remind him of a better version of himself and he doesn't think he can ever go back to that.

need a rumor spread about someone??? go to chan. i will literally have him spread it in threads.

rivals!!! for any reason.

a good influence that is soft and nice to him and brings out his sincere smiles!!!

you dislike one of his siblings and he's just Not about that??? or maybe he likes you but you hate his sibling(s) so he's conflicted??? to be friends or not to be???

idk really anything

i'll make a sexy list of sexily written plots when i get this mess of a blog under control

i'll also do a stats and bio pages

forgive me i am slow and lazy

#yhintro #ooc tag tba #this is ??? but it's something and that's all that matters

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ohemgeeitscoley · 5 years ago

Text

Rey doesn't think when she calls Ben to go into her emails to send off her draft email with her final to her professor.

It isn't until she's off the phone that she remembers all the other draft emails are to him and vary from confessing her love to him and describing in detail what exactly she wants to do to his body.

No, Rey didn't think this through at all.

These letters to you (1/1)

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Rey/Ben Solo (Reylo)

Note: This came from this prompt from the ReylosPrompt Twitter account.

Curious Cat Prompt: "Ben finds a draft on Rey’s email addressed to him confessing her love and lust for him."

@andyouweremine and @storiesofimagination are some of the best betas a girl could ever ask for. They make sure that my tenses stay correct and reassure me the entire time that I’m writing. They are the best cheerleaders and I wouldn’t know what to do without them. <3

Read below or on AO3.

Please pick up. Please pick up. If there is any sort of fairness in the galaxy, please pick up your fucking phone--

"Hello?" Ben's voice is low, deeper than usual. It's his mostly asleep voice. Rey hates that she has thought enough about the variances of Ben's voice to know the different tones almost as much as she hates the fact that a sleepy Ben Solo is almost always her favorite version of Ben.

Ben had been one of the first people Rey had met when she transferred in as a sophomore. He had been in his first year at the law school. They both fought for the right to study under a specific tree toward the edge of the campus. It was quiet, far enough away from the hot spots to really attract much attention or noise. The leaves were big and provided plenty of shade from the sun. The ground was soft and mostly free of any large rocks or bouts of even landscaping.

It was Rey's favorite spot.

They fought over the tree for two months, both of them refusing to leave and each attempting to annoy the other into giving the spot up. It didn't take long for them to realize that when they were just sitting under the tree, quietly, together studying, it wasn't so bad.

It was actually nice, not being alone.

Rey moved into Ben's apartment the following fall and they'd been best friends ever since.

Rey's fairly certain she's been in love with him for roughly the same amount of time.

Not that she has the time to be getting lost down that particular rabbit hole.

"Thank God, you answered," Rey responds, twisting the cord of the phone around one of her fingers. Everything about the diner she works at is a little bit kitschy and old, but having to make a call on a phone actually attached to a wall with cords is a whole different experience. "I'm so sorry I woke you up. I know you were up late studying."

"Rey?" Ben asks while yawning. Rey can hear him shuffle around in his bed. "It's not even 6 AM, is everything okay?"

"You answered," Rey smiles, hoping Ben knows that she is practically beaming at him through the phone. "Everything is going to be fine. My final paper is due at 6. On the dot. I was too nervous to send it last night when I finished it. I was going to send it in this morning, after I had a chance to at least look over it for grammar and spelling, but I'm me and I--"

"Slept through your first four alarms and barely made it out the door for work?" Ben interrupts.

"Yes." Rey sighs, rolling her eyes. "Anyways. You know I can't use my cell at work, I'm probably going to get shit for this call, and you're the only number I have memorized. So I really, really need you to get on my computer, go to my email and send in my paper. I have a draft saved and everything. All you have to do is get in my drafts folder and hit send."

"Sure," Ben agrees. "Password for your laptop?"

"Capital d-y-at sign-d-hashtag-number 3-exclamation point."

"I'm on it." Rey can hear Ben's door open, the same squeak sounding over the phone that she complains about every night when he's anxious from studying and walks back and forth from his room to the kitchen every twenty minutes. "Consider it done."

"You're the best roommate, slash friend, slash just all around hero of my life," Rey blushes, stopping just short of adding 'probably the love of my life' at the end of her sentence. Thinking about her feelings for Ben is definitely a rabbit hole she is better off to avoid. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"It's the least I can do if I'm really the only phone number you have memorized."

"It's 2020, Ben," Rey teases. "The fact that I have your number memorized is really impressive."

"Why mine?"

Rey can hear water running in the background, a cabinet opening and a drawer shutting. Rey hates that she can clearly see Ben in their kitchen, making coffee, probably with a slightly grumpy look on his face because Rey knows that she put the grinder and the filters back in the wrong spot. She hates it the same way she hates knowing that Ben won't say anything about the misplaced items to her, and that if she were home he would make her cup of coffee first.

The way Ben always takes care of her first drives Rey crazy most days.

"I figure the only time I'm ever going to need to call someone without having access to my phone would be in a real emergency. And you're the person I would want to call." Rey bites her lip, shaking her head as if she could shake away how vulnerable she sounds to her own ears. "Or, if I've been arrested. And if that's the case, you're the only lawyer I know."

Ben snorts. "I have to actually finish next semester and pass the bar to be a real lawyer."

"You're going to pass," Rey gently reminds him. It's the same conversation they've been having since the beginning of the year. "And then you're going to kick legal ass all over New York."

Ben's laugh is warm. "You should go back to work, don't worry about your paper. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't. Text me what you want for dinner. I'll pick it up on my way home from my last final."

Rey hangs the phone back up on the wall and walks back out into the diner. She smiles, grabbing a rag to wipe down the front counter. Her nerves finally calm knowing that Ben wouldn't let her down and she no longer had to worry about failing one of her last classes.

Ben would just go into her draft emails and send the email on to her professor.

Into her draft emails.

Her draft emails.

Fuck.

***

Ben is not surprised when he opens Rey's email and sees that she has 37 draft emails. It's honestly exactly what he expects.

He blows across the top of his mug, watching as the steam from the cup scatters. The coffee's still too hot to drink, but it's 5:57 in the morning and Ben's only had 2 hours of sleep.

If he survives law school and passes the bar, Ben is going to need a three week long nap.

Taking a drink from the mug, Ben grimaces as the too hot liquid burns his tongue and throat, and yet at the same time warms his soul. Ben opens the draft emails, seeing the one at the top to Rey's professor. It's easy enough to look at, make sure that there's an attachment attached and that Rey's message isn't full of 2 AM Rey snark.

It's sent by 5:59.

Ben's glad that he woke up to his phone going off and that he answered. Usually, answering unknown numbers isn't something Ben does, but he's always a little more cautious when Rey is gone and it's a local number. Just in case.

Answering a spam call and wasting 5 seconds but knowing Rey is fine is worth it.

Everything about the call fell into the 'reasons to tell Rey about his feelings' column in the pro/con list he kept in his mind. Rey had his number memorized in case of emergencies.

Somehow Rey Johnson had decided that he was worthy and could be trusted to be someone she could rely on.

And for Rey, with all of the abandonment issues Ben knows about, to trust him to be there for her… it means more than Ben can say.

Falling completely in love with his best friend was not on his list of things to complete before finishing law school.

Though he thinks it might be the most worthwhile thing he's done in the three years. If he wasn't absolutely terrified of Rey not feeling the same way and ruining their friendship, Ben knows that loving her, being loved by her… that would be the honor of a lifetime.

Tilting his head back, Ben reaches for his mug and takes another drink. These are the kinds of thoughts that Ben knows he cannot dwell on so early and on such little sleep. He's going to fuck up one day and send her a text message confessing that he does actually reorganize their kitchen cabinets sometimes just because he thinks that the way she scrunches her nose when she's confused and angry is the cutest thing in the world.

Maybe he'll just text her that he loves her and not in a friend way. But in a ‘very real, very romantic, wants to take her on dates, and make her toes curl in pleasure’ kind of way.

Which is why Ben needs to go back to bed and try to sleep before studying again. His last final is tomorrow and if he isn't smart enough to list ten reasons why texting Rey about how pretty he thinks her freckles are in the sunlight, well, he has no idea how he's going to pass his trademarks and false advertising final.

Ben is just starting to close the laptop when he sees his email on one of the draft emails. He knows that he shouldn't snoop in Rey's draft emails, but it's addressed to him and it's probably just a dumb meme that she forgot to hit send on.

Because Rey sends Ben a lot of dumb memes. It's one of the things he loves about her.

Ben pushes the screen up and is stunned to find that there are a bunch of emails to him.

Before he can think his way out of doing it, Ben opens the first email.

Dear Ben:

I came home early from work and you were shirtless and exercising in the living room

First: rude.

Second: I've decided it's unfair for you to ever wear shirts and you should be shirtless all the time

Third: actually, no one else needs to know about this gross injustice and you should only not wear shirts around me

Fourth: have you always been so... big?

Fifth: I need to go to bed and think more about this.

Yours,

Rey

Ben takes a deep breath. That was not a dumb meme.

That was the furthest thing from a dumb meme.

Ben slowly releases his breath, closing out of the draft email. He should stop. He knows he should shut down Rey’s computer and that he absolutely should not open another draft email to him.

But he needs to know what else they say. For the first time in three years, there's a spark of hope inside Ben that maybe Rey feels something for him. So he looks down the list of drafts and opens one from 6 months ago on his birthday.

Ben,

It's your birthday. I know you aren't comfortable with attention being solely focused on you, but I'm so glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight.

You deserve it. You're always so hard on yourself. I wish you could see you the way I see you. How kind and caring and thoughtful you can be. It never fails to amaze me, just how wonderful you really are.

You looked gorgeous. I had to stop myself from telling you just what seeing you in that suit did to me. I almost told you how badly I want you.

I drank too much. I hate that you thought you had to leave the club to make sure that I made it back home okay, but I also… God Ben, you are always taking care of me.

No one else has done that for me.

You got me in bed, made sure I could change out of my outfit (which did you like my outfit? I thought you looked like you appreciated it when I walked out of my room, but you didn't say anything. I mean of course you didn't say anything. But I hope you did. I wore it for you.) you even brought water and aspirin for me to take tomorrow morning when I wake up.

You kissed my forehead when you tucked me in.

I just want to kiss you.

Well, I want to do more than just kiss you. But kissing seems like a good place to start.

Which is how I ended up here. Reading all of these unsent emails to you. I almost hit send on the first one I wrote. My feelings for you haven't changed.

But I'm so so scared.

I am terrified Ben.

I can't lose you. You've become the one constant in my life and I don't know what I would do without you in it.

What if you don't feel the same way? What if I ruin everything?

I should go to bed. I just wish that I were in your arms instead of alone.

I'm so tired of being alone.

Anyways.

Happy birthday, Ben.

Yours,

Rey

Ben reads the email four times before it really clicks in his brain that Rey likes him. Rey has apparently liked him for at least six months, but maybe even longer since she referred to sending her first draft email and that her feelings hadn't changed.

Her feelings. For him.

His birthday had been the best birthday he could remember. Rey had planned the entire event. She had been so excited to celebrate him that it was hard not to embrace it.

Ben's birthdays usually consisted of a phone call from his parents, maybe lunch or dinner if they were in the same city, and a few text messages from others.

Rey woke him up with pancakes and waffles, because no one should have to choose between the two best breakfast foods on their birthday, and a detailed itinerary of all her ideas for the rest of the day.

She spent the entire day with him doing whatever he wanted to do. Watching his favorite movies, ordering lunch from his favorite restaurant, confirming with everyone the dinner plans and post-dinner drink plans she had made.

Ben had almost told Rey about his feelings for her that night. After reading her email, he wishes that he had.

How much time had they missed out on being together because they were both scared?

Ben shakes his head, he still isn't sure that this all is real. Maybe Rey hadn't really called and he is still asleep. Maybe this is all a dream.

He downs the last of the coffee in his mug, running a finger across the chip on the side.

Rey had tried throwing the mug out after she moved in, saying something about how they could just use his mugs. Ben had ignored her, placing the pastel colored mugs, chips and all, next to his glossy black ones in the cabinet. He told her the blue one was his favorite and it wasn't going anywhere.

The smile she had given him lit up the entire room.

He sets the mug back down on the table, scrolling down until he finds the first draft to him. I almost hit send on the first one I wrote. The email is dated the day before she moved in.

He opens it.

Ben,

I will probably never send this email, but I also don't know that I won't. I know that I want to send it. I want to be brave and to know the truth.

The thought of doing it is just scary though.

You know that you're my best friend right? It's hard for me to imagine a world without you in it, which for me is a lot. You haven't even been in my life for a year and you've already managed to make it so that I don't know what I'll do when you decide to leave.

That's what people do, Ben, they leave me.

It's just a fact in my life and knowing that, honestly, has kept me safe. I keep people at a distance, which wasn't hard growing up because I just bounced around from foster home to foster home and school to school. But now I'm here and I'm not going anywhere new anytime soon.

And then there's you.

For some reason, I believe you're not going anywhere either.

Which is scarier to me. I've never had anyone stay before. I don't know what to do with that.

A part of me needs to believe that you're going to leave. So when you do eventually move on and leave me behind it'll at least be something I knew was going to eventually happen.

Anyways. I've gotten really sidetracked here.

I've been going to therapy. Which you already know, since you're the one who kept telling me that it was something I should look into. Thanks for that by the way. You were right.

She suggested that I write letters to the people who have left or hurt me. Not to send, but to just, get my thoughts and feelings out of my head.

It helped.

Which is why I'm writing this email to you, even though I'll never be brave enough to send it. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about you, Ben. I need them out of my head.

I love you.

I am in love with you.

Not in a platonic way. In a very romantic way.

Almost everything you do drives me crazy and makes my heart warm and my face glow.

I want to kiss you and hold your hand. I want to find out if my head will fit in the crook of your neck when you hold me the way I think that it will. I want to commit the taste of your skin to my memory. I want to know the marks on your body better than I know my own. I want to know what you look like when you lose control and give into pleasure.

It's really apparent, I think, the way I feel about you.

Only you don't seem to notice. And I need to admit to myself that it's because you don't think of me that way.

Which is fine. I get it.

You're you… and I'm just, well, I'm just me.

But I'm moving in tomorrow and I just needed to get these thoughts out. Otherwise I'm a little worried I might just blurt it out when you help me wash the dishes or eat dinner with me. Which I'm sure sounds a little strange, but after a lifetime without these moments…

I imagine living with you is only going to make me fall more in love with you.

Maybe I'll just have to write you more.

Yours,

Rey

Ben doesn't bother to count how many times he rereads the email. He just keeps going back to the top as soon as he reads her name and starts again. He doesn't stop until he is sure he could repeat every word without looking at the screen.

And then he continues to read the email again, just to make sure.

Rey loves him.

Even with the words clearly on the screen for Ben to see, it's hard for him to believe. He's been in love with Rey since before she moved in. The idea that Rey has felt the same way the entire time doesn't make sense.

Ben is objectively smart. He isn't even shy about his intelligence. In fact any given classmate of his would likely describe him as an insufferable know it all. Rey loving him without Ben catching on for over two years is inconceivable. He would have noticed. He would have seen the signs. Certainly he would--

He reads the email again. And again. And again.

Every time he tries to find a way to read anything into it beyond 'Rey has admitted in three different emails, to various degrees, that she is physically attracted to you and that she is in love with you' he rereads the emails.

He doesn't read any more beyond the three. There are plenty of drafts to him that are unread, but he grasps the threads between them to form the overall picture without needing to read the individual emails.

He feels guilty if he thinks for too long about reading the ones he did. He has information now that he didn't have before. He reasons that it is information that he should have though. Because now that he knows and he thinks to any given memory of Rey, with just a tiny bit of certainty that Rey loves him…

Well it's the easiest thing in the world to see.

When he really thinks about it, Rey doesn't hide the way she loves him, she shines with it. He can see it in the way she smiles at him when he pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and tucks it around her during a movie. Her face soft and warm as she instinctively burrows into the heat.

He can see it in the way she keeps finding reasons to touch his arm when they are walking. Her hand guiding his elbow when she's giving directions. A finger tapping on his wrist when she wants him to follow her gaze. Her arm interlocked with his when she's had just a little too much to drink to still be steady in her heels.

It's certainly the way she trusts that he won't let her fall.

Ben closes the laptop, stretching as he stands. He places the empty coffee mug in the sink, rinsing out the small drops of coffee lingering in the bottom of the glass. The time on the stove clock mocks him.

7:34.

Rey isn't going to be home for hours. She'll go straight from the diner to her final. And he doesn't want to worry her by texting her. Especially when he knows she won't have a lot of time, if any, to text him back.

He isn't even sure what he would say to her.

He could study. He should study. He tries to study, but it's pointless. He can't really focus when at least half of his brain is still focused on Rey's emails.

Ben waits. Impatiently watching the clock and attempting to will time to pass faster. He reads his note cards in between planning the possible ways his conversation with Rey may go when she finally, finally gets home.

It's a long day.

***

Rey glances down at her phone for approximately the millionth time on her walk from the diner to campus. She's almost run into ten different people while walking because she's too focused on her phone and not where she is going.

There are no messages from Ben. No missed calls either.

Maybe Ben didn't see the emails. There's no way Ben would see the draft emails to him and not read them. And if he read them he absolutely would have texted her about them by now.

Right? Right.

Unless he thought that letting her down over a text message or a phone call is too impersonal. Maybe he is just waiting for her to get home to break her heart.

She should have just turned in the paper late. So what if she failed and had to retake the class over the summer and figure out a way to pay for it out of pocket? At least she would still have her best friend.

A drop of water hits Rey's face, Rey looks up from her phone and glares at the darkened sky. She doesn't remember rain being mentioned in the weather forecast, but that hardly matters as it starts raining harder.

Rey checks one more time for any messages before sliding her phone into her bag and running the rest of the way to class. She makes it inside of the building just before a large round of thunder and the rain starts to pour.

She sits at her desk, waiting for the rest of her classmates to show up. She pulls out her phone, debating if she should send Ben a message.

Hey! By now you probably read the emails. This is really embarrassing and obviously I should have deleted them instead of saving them. I'm an idiot. Please let me know when you need me to move out by. Sorry for making this so awkward.

You find two years worth of love letters and you have NOTHING to say to me??????

I assume that if you felt anything similar toward me you would have said something by now. Can we just pretend that you never saw them? I don't want this to change everything.

The professor walks in, handing off the test packets to another student to begin passing around.

There's not enough time for Rey to address any of this with Ben in a message. But she can't stomach the idea of not hearing from him at all before going home.

Rey: Hey! Getting ready to start my final, you never said what you want me to grab for dinner on my way home?

***

Rey hands in her test to her professor with a tight smile and a small wave. She's pretty sure she passed, which at this point, is all she can hope for.

She spent half of the time thinking of different scenarios that could be a possibility when she went back to the apartment. Anything near passing would be fine.

She walks out of the classroom and pulls out her phone. She has two messages from Ben.

Ben: Actually, I was thinking I would make dinner. Something to celebrate your last final.

Ben: Maybe something to distract me from studying.

Rey sighs as she walks toward the exit of the building. Maybe Ben didn't read the draft emails after all. Even if he didn't have feelings for her, surely they'd be enough to at least distract him.

Rey had poured her heart out in some of those emails. She knows there are at least a few where she went on and on about what she thought about Ben's body and the way his hair looked with him growing it out. A few where she made it clear about her thoughts about how kissable his lips looked, how she wondered what his fingers would feel like tracing her curves.

Even if he didn't have feelings for her, certainly he would be distracted by some of those emails.

Maybe she won't go home. Maybe she can avoid Ben long enough that she won't have to find out if he read the emails or not. She won't have to find out if she's ruined one of the best things in her life.

The sun is bright when Rey steps outside. The sidewalks are a darker grey, small puddles pooled around the cracks and uneven slabs.

Rey zips her jacket up, shivering slightly as the wind picks up speed.

She spends most of the walk home trying to fight against her disappointment at the thought that Ben hadn't gone through the emails to him. She had spent so much of her energy imagining Ben breaking it to her that he didn't feel the same way, but a part of her had been hoping that maybe, maybe he felt the same.

The idea that Ben just didn't read the emails was worse.

Maybe Rey should just tell him. Get her feelings out in the open and see what comes from it. There was a chance, a small chance, but still a chance that he felt the same way. Or that he could be open to the idea.

Rey: Sounds good! Need me to stop for anything? Dessert? Wine? Hard alcohol to help with the studying?

Ben doesn't respond until she's almost home.

Ben: No. The only thing missing is you.

***

Ben fidgets with the pen in his hand, twirling it in between his fingers. The pasta is done, the french bread is in the oven.

The only thing that is missing is Rey.

He glances down at his phone to check and see if Rey had responded, but there's no notification. She should be home soon and Ben still doesn't know what he's going to do when he sees her.

He knows what he wants to do. He doesn't want to waste anymore time. He wants to tell her that she's beautiful, because she is, even if she'll fight it because she always complains about how gross she feels after a shift at the diner when she has to head straight to class. She’s always beautiful though, and now he just wants to tell her that. He wants to be able to tell her that when she wakes up in the morning and she’s scrunching her face up against the harshness of the sun sneaking in, or when she is passionate about something and it lights up her entire face.

He wants to tell her that he loves her. That he has been in love with her the entire time too. He’s just not sure how.

It doesn't seem like enough to just say that he loves her. She wrote him fucking love letters. And even though Ben only read three, he knows that there are more and that they are just as lovely and somehow all about her feelings for him. She deserves more than just him saying that he feels the same way.

She deserves to know about the day he realized he was in love with her. She deserves to know about the way the slope of her neck into her shoulder drives him crazy. She deserves to know that he pretends to fall asleep during their movie nights because then she'll fall asleep and curl herself around him on the couch.

The oven beeps and Ben stands from the table, he closes his book, grabbing his note cards and pens and highlighters. He dumps the items into his bedroom, before walking back into the kitchen to pull the french bread out from the oven.

Ben's sliding the bread onto a cutting board, knife in his hand, when the door opens and Rey walks in.

Ben struggles to remember how to breathe as he stares at her. She looks beautiful. But she's nervous, her fingers are playing with the sleeve of her jacket, pulling and twisting at the loose fabric. She shuts the door, taking a step into the kitchen.

She's staring at Ben and he can see it now. She loves him and he can see it. How had he never noticed it before?

Maybe he really was an idiot.

He had spent all day fighting his own nerves, trying to come up with the perfect plan on how to tell Rey that he never thought about what she must have spent the entire day doing.

Obviously, she knew that she sent him into her draft emails and that there was a chance that he would see the emails.

Did she know that he read them? Is that why she is looking at him with wide eyes, her mouth slightly open, as if she is almost about to say something, but she doesn't.

Of course she's worried that he doesn't feel the same way. Why else would she keep writing him draft emails while not saying anything or giving him any real signs about her feelings?

He sets the knife down next to the bread and takes a step toward her.

"Dinner smells good," she says, a little breathless.

Ben doesn't say anything in response, he just takes another step, closing the distance between him. Rey glances up at him, her body tense as she takes a small step back.

Ben reaches out for her, his hand settling against her lower back, gently urging her to come closer to him.

"Ben," she breathes, stepping forward, her hand hovering over his bicep for a second before she commits and rests her hand against the sleeve of his shirt.

"It was the first night you stayed over," Ben says, brushing a stray piece of Rey's hair behind her ear. "It was… two, maybe three months before you moved in. You came over to study. We had dinner first and then you demanded that we watch a movie before we started studying. Something about how our brains needed a break and we'd be better off waiting for a few hours to get started on our all nighter."

Ben smiles, mostly for himself, remembering how cute she had been arguing with him.

"We didn't study," Ben continues, running a finger down her cheek. "You fell asleep twenty minutes into the movie. You looked so peaceful and beautiful and I just… all I could think was about how all I wanted in life was to share it with you. Because I was in love with you."

Rey's expression is soft and a little bewildered as he continues. She turns her head slightly, her lips quickly pressing against his thumb.

"I've been in love with you this entire time. I'm sorry I was too scared to tell you. I was nervous… I am nervous that I'm going to ruin this. I love you and I know, Rey, I know that nothing is ever going to change that. I'm going to love you forever. I can feel it in my bones. Be with me? I know it's scary--"

Rey pulls at Ben's shirt until he bends down and she cuts off his sentence by kissing him. Ben sighs against her lips, his eyes closing as he places her free hand on her hips. She deepens the kiss, her tongue running across his, her fingers burying themselves in his hair.

The way Rey feels pressed against him, the pressure of her mouth on his, it's better than he could have imagined.

It's over too soon, Rey breaks the kiss, a large smile spreading across her face. Ben's grin is just as large and toothy. He stares at her for a second, trying to memorize the way she looks in that moment to his brain. Then he pulls her into his chest and kisses her hair.

"I love you too," Rey says after a moment. "And I agree that it is scary. But I want to be with you. It's worth it."

***

Ben's kisses are something Rey could get addicted to. He kisses with his whole body, the way he angles in his legs to brush against hers, the pressure of his thumb pressing into her hip, his fingernails lightly scratching down her spine. And his lips.

God his lips.

She had been right about his lips. They were absolutely made for kissing.

He left kisses all over her face, her cheek, her jaw, just above her eyebrow. Rey tugged at the bottom of his shirt with one hand, the other quickly moving to run along the exposed skin of his stomach.

He is so warm and solid underneath her hand.

Ben pulls away just long enough to pull his shirt off. Rey spends a few seconds taking in the sight of him shirtless, his eyes darker than she has ever seen them as he watches her watch him.

"You're so gorgeous," she says because she can. Then she moves to pull her own shirt off.

The black bra, which was mostly see through mesh, that she had picked out that morning appears to have been a good choice, judging by the way Ben swallows at the sight, his eyes slowly moving down her body.

He places one hand over her right breast, gently squeezing before taking her nipple and rolling it in between his fingers.

Rey moans, pushing herself forward into his hand, desperate for more friction. he repeats the actions on her left breast and Rey can't control the needy sounds falling from her lips.

Ben pulls away then, dropping his hands to her waist as he takes a step back to put distance between them.

Rey whines, instinctively following after him.

"The food is going to be cold if we don't stop," he explains, nodding at the pasta that's on the counter.

Rey shakes her head, lifting up on her toes to kiss him again.

"Ben," she says, her fingers digging into his shoulder as she tries to find her balance. "I don't give a fuck about the food."

***

Ben groans at Rey's words, helpless to pull away when she's saying things like that and smiling against his lips.

He kisses her, while moving them until her back is pressed against the wall. His fingers making quick work of the button on her jeans.

This is going too fast. He knows that he should stop, that they should eat and he should ask her to go on an actual date, or to be his girlfriend, or fuck, his wife, whatever she wants.

But he can't stop kissing her. And judging by the way she's trying to undo his belt, she doesn't want to stop either. It's hard to argue against the side of his brain begging him to give into the pleasure and to take her into his room when she's pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to run her fingers down his cock.

"Rey, look at me," he begs, his hand grips the corner of the wall as he fails to stop his hips from pushing forward. The way Rey's hands feel wrapped around him, moving at a slow and steady pace as she raises her eyes to his face. Her hand picks up speed, and her eyes slightly narrow in concentration, like she's trying to decipher every twitch of his face so she can make him do it again is too much.

"Yeah, Ben?" Rey says as an answer, her eyes not leaving his. She looks like the picture of innocence as she holds his gaze, her eyes full of love, her cheeks slightly pink, and her lips turned up in a smile.

It's difficult to believe that she can keep that expression on her face while giving him the best hand job of his life.

"We should, uh, we should talk," he manages to get out, his grip on the wall tightening. "About all of this and what it means. I don't want… we don't have to rush into anything. We have time."

Rey's hand stops moving and if Ben was capable of holding on to more than a few of his brain cells he would have been embarrassed at the way he kept moving his hips long after she stopped.

She holds his chin in her other hand, tilting his head down so she can look directly into his eyes before she leans up. The kiss is chaste and short, it leaves Ben wanting more.

"I don't want to talk," she says, moving her hand down his length again. "I don't want to wait either Ben," he shudders at the combination of her words and the way she twists her hand around the head of his penis. "I just want you."

***

Ben doesn't say anything, he tilts his head and looks at Rey like he's trying to decide what he did to deserve her and what he wants to do next. He's all action once he's made up his mind.

He places his hand on top of Rey's, and Rey pumps him faster, feeling emboldened by the feel of Ben's hands on hers. He moves her hand away off of him, pinning it above her head and against the wall.

"Ben," Rey sighs, half heartedly fighting against his hold, "I wasn't done--"

Rey stops talking while she watches Ben push down his pants to the floor. He picks her up and Rey wraps her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist.

Heat pools in her stomach when he starts to walk them towards his room. His mouth is on her again. Ben's room is only about 30 steps away from the kitchen, but it seems to take forever before Ben finally makes it to his door.

Ben holds her against the door, carefully shifting her in his arms so that he can move one hand from her to open the door. Rey uses that as an opportunity to suck at the skin just below his jaw. The arm wrapped around her tightens and Rey can hear Ben's sharp intake of breath once she's moved her lips away.

So she does it again to the skin below his ear, just to see if she gets the same reaction from him.

Ben carefully sets her down on his bed. He settles his knees on either side of her and bends down to kiss her. His mouth is hot and desperate against hers as he unclasps her bra. Rey leans back on the bed and helps him slide the straps down her arms.

Rey lifts her hips up so Ben can remove her underwear and jeans. She runs her fingers along the edge of his hip bone.

"You're beautiful," Ben says, his voice lower than Rey has heard it before. He drags his thumb along the curve of her breast and across her nipple. "You're so beautiful Rey--" his fingers trail down along her waist and stomach until he barely grazes her clit with the pad of his finger.

But it's enough to send small tendrils of pleasure throughout her body. He moves lower, running a finger through the wetness at her opening. She nods at the questioning look he gives her.

He pushes a finger inside of her, curling it up as he sets a slow, leisurely pace with his movements. Rey moans, trying to urge him on to go faster.

"Ben, please," Rey begs, though she isn't quite sure what she's asking him to do. "I need more."

Ben drops to his knees, hooking Rey's legs over his shoulder. He adds another finger, picking up speed while he places wet kisses on her thighs and hip bone. His nose brushes against her clit when he moves his head to pay attention to the other side of her body.

Rey whines, lifting her hips to try to find something to give her friction where she needs it most. Ben grins into her thigh.

"You're a tease," Rey huffs. "An absolute damn tease and I need--"

"I know what you need," Ben whispers, his breath hot on her center and then he finally, finally lowers his mouth to her clit.

Rey's brain ceases to function when he sucks and pleasure washes over her body. She lifts her hips up and she's only slightly annoyed when Ben's hand pushes her back down to the bed.

Ben works her up easily. He isn't shy about trying different things, and the way he manages to work his tongue with his fingers and his mouth is magic.

Rey threads her fingers in his hair, she tugs on the strands as he brings her closer and closer to the edge.

"Ben," Rey whimpers, her back arching. She's fairly confident the grip she has on his hair is actually painful, but she can't bring herself to let go and Ben doesn't seem to mind. At least, it isn't stopping him from devouring her.

She doesn't want to come yet. She wants to stay in this moment forever. She needs it to last longer so she can commit the way her nerves are buzzing with pleasure and her heart is swelling with love and comfort to her memory.

Ben sucks harder. The hand on her stomach moves up and he is pinching her nipple and she comes.

He works her through her orgasm. His mouth and tongue slowing their movements against her clit until she swats at his head.

"Too sensitive," she mutters, her eyes still closed. He laughs against her skin, resting his chin just above her pubic bone.

Rey leans up, pressing her elbows into the mattress. "Hi," she says, grinning down at him.

"Hi." Ben sounds a little breathless, but he matches her smile and presses a kiss against her skin.

His hair is a mess and Rey's stomach swoops with the knowledge that she did that. She's the reason this gorgeous man was out of breath and his usually perfectly tousled hair was all out of place.

He moves up her body, running his tongue along her exposed skin until his head is hovering just over her own.

"I love you," he says. And if it were possible Rey knows that he would be able to see her heart beat out of her chest.

His face is so open and honest it surprises Rey. Because she knows that he said he loved her earlier, but there's still a part of her that isn't sure that he can mean it.

But then he looks at her with such adoration in his eyes and she's not sure how she could doubt him.

"I love you too," she says, beaming up at him as he closes the distance between them.

She can taste herself on his lips, but she isn't complaining as he opens his mouth to deepen the kiss.

"Condom?" she asks, breaking the kiss before placing smaller kisses along his jaw.

He nods, moving off of her and moving to the other edge of the bed. He opens the top drawer of his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Rey just watches as he tears open the wrapper, pinches the tip of the condom and rolls it down his length.

"Come here," he says and Rey rolls over and makes her way to Ben. She settles herself over him, resting her hands on his shoulders and sinks down on him.

Ben let's her set the pace, but he meets her thrust for thrust and it makes Rey clench against him. He feels so good inside of her, and then he uses his hands, dragging them down on her spine, across her chest, down her stomach until he reaches her clit and he presses down and Rey starts to see stars. Her movements above him stutter and she knows she isn't going to last long if he keeps that up.

"That's it," he says, "Are you going to come for me?" He puts more pressure on his finger, drawing small circles on her clit.

Rey sighs his name, squeezing her nails into his shoulder. He's taken over, controlling the speed of her thrusts as she just let's him, too lost in the pleasure pulsing through her veins.

"Ben," she groans when his mouth wraps around her nipple, his teeth sharp against her skin.

She comes when he bites down, her vision blurring. He keeps fucking into her chasing his own orgasm.

He comes silently, his breath hot on her neck. Rey catches her breath, enjoying the way Ben can't keep his hands still. He runs his hands over her collarbone, a finger trailing across her jawline, another down her spine.

She rolls off of him once she feels like she can take a full breath without immediately trying to suck in another. He moves around, removing the condom and tossing it into a trash can near his bed.

Rey is glad to discover that her head does fit into the crook of his neck just like she imagined. She tastes the salt on his skin when she leaves an opened mouth kiss to his shoulder. She wraps her arm around his chest and curls herself around him.

"So, you read the emails then?" Rey asks with a small laugh.

Ben kisses her head. "I read three of them, yeah."

"Just three?"

Ben sighs, his fingers continuing to run across her body as if he can't get enough of her skin. "I felt bad. Reading through emails you didn't send me, it felt like I was invading your privacy."

"I'm glad you did," Rey admits, pulling him closer to her. "Otherwise we might not be here."

Ben hums, his chest vibrating underneath her hand. "You have a point."

"Which ones did you read?"

"Um," Ben hesitates. Rey can feel his heartbeat pick up pace. "A recent one about me working out? And then the one on my birthday and the first one."

"Those were good ones," Rey laughs. "You could have read the other ones."

"You could send them to me." Ben drags his fingers through her hair. "I don't want you to hide from me anymore."

"Maybe I will," Rey teases. "Now that I know you might feel the same way about me."

"I do feel the same way," Ben amends her words. "I'm crazy about you. I've been crazy about you."

"But will you be tomorrow?" Rey asks, hating how needy her voice sounds to her own ears. "And the next day?"

"Always," Ben answers. There's no hesitancy to his answer.

"Always is a long time," Reys says, kissing his neck. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I never do," Ben promises. "I'm always going to love you."

"Me too," Rey says, her voice heavy with sleep. "I'm always going to love you."

"Maybe tomorrow we can read the rest of them together?" Ben asks.

"Yeah," Rey smiles. "We can do that."

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo fic #reylo au #my fic

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tysonrunningfox · 5 years ago

Text

Two Night Stand AU: Part 7

Ao3

Hiccup (3:52am): Astrid please, I can explain. Better than I did. I’m sorry.

Hiccup (3:52am): Astrid

Hiccup (3:53am): I keep saying your name, I don’t

Hiccup (3:53am): It’s my favorite name

Hiccup (3:53am): I know my name I just a bodily function but I love how you told me that and also none of this matters because I

Hiccup (3:54am): Please, if you get these, please give me your number. Please.

Hiccup (3:54am): I’m not begging. Not in the manipulative way. Or any way.

Hiccup (3:56am): Except I actually am begging.

Hiccup (3:56am): In the pathetic way.

Hiccup (3:58am): I thought about running after you. I didn’t because well, I was naked, or not, that’s not, I

Hiccup (3:59am): Please, just say anything. Please. I need to talk to you. I

Hiccup (4:02am): I’ve been saying ‘I’ a lot, that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about what this means to you and I’m guessing it couldn’t be worse. This couldn’t have gone worse. I was everything you feared and more. Or less. I don’t

Hiccup (4:03am): I don’t want your comfort, not that you’d give it, I’m saying I’m the worst. I’m saying I’m awful and I’m sorry and this is so bad and it looks even worse than it is and I’d like to talk about exactly how bad it looks with you. Only you.

Hiccup (4:04am): Please, just message me back or give me your number or your address, I won’t stalk you, I’ll just send you a long-winded letter in cursive on cardstock.

Hiccup (4:05am): I’ll buy cardstock, I can’t write cursive though

This is pointless. And stupid. And the only thing Hiccup cares about even as he gets the notification that Heather’s plane has landed. She’ll be home soon. Fine. It’s fine.

He should make the bed. He should shower. He should do anything but obsessively message the perfect girl who isn’t responding.

Astrid.

Astrid who feels like home. Astrid who’s gone. Astrid. Astrid.

He keeps saying her name like it has a hidden definition. Like it’s a code that can unlock some way out of the mess he’s placed himself in.

It can’t, because there isn’t.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Because he made a mess. Not just a mess. A mud pit, in which he voluntarily brought dirt into his life, and then mixed it with water, and then invited someone who lacked the qualifications to turn mud into structure into his life, and somehow, instead of being a disaster, it just lit everything on fire.

The mud pit is a clay-pit. The moving sculpture of his life fired into place the second that he realized Astrid for what she truly was. Is.

It has to be possible.

Or, you know, there’s just no reason to any of this.

But the thing is that after pulling the short stick enough times, it ceases to be random chance and starts to feel like reserved karma. And Hiccup would like to cash in.

And yes, he understands that the idea of karma is not a genie in a bottle, it is not a magic wand, it cannot magically bring Astrid into his life, not that he’d want it to because—well, she’d hate it—but he thinks there should be some sort of cosmic station where one could exchange the sum of their theoretical suffering for what they want.

Like he lost a leg, that’s…big ass misery, ok? That was a gigantic ‘fuck you’ from the universe. He endured it with a mostly strong chin and stubborn sense of humor, but right now, he is willing to drop it forever just for a specific configuration of ten digits.

That’s a pretty good deal, right universe? Deal or No Deal?

Spin The Wheel of Fortune, Universe.

Do You Want to Be a Millionaire, Universe?

The Price is Right, as in this is the best he has to offer, so Universe, maybe make your move.

“Honey, I’m home!” Heather calls from the living room as she disarms the security alarm.

Check. The universe says, sliding the queen of the castle into view.

“In the bedroom,” he says back, staring down at Heather’s note, wondering how leading with it would go. Not well, not that there’s any way any of this will go well.

It’ll be faster maybe, if he leads with the Dear John letter he knew about for weeks that led him to make a ‘fuck you’ account on a dating website and God, he is so stupid.

“What the fuck is this?” Heather dives right into it, standing in the doorway with a folded piece of paper in her hand.

“Oh, sorry, I was supposed to be vacuuming with my pearls on,” he says flatly, “I forgot we were going to roleplay Leave it to Beaver, which takes on a very different meaning when you add the sexual element—”

“Hiccup,” Heather sighs his name like it’s an impossible to squelch bodily function, and he can’t keep Astrid off his mind for even a second, can he? “The note, by the front door, what is it?”

“I’ve…” He swallows hard, wiping his hand on his boxers before picking up his only shred of pitiable evidence, “I have the note right here.”

“Trade me,” she raises a non-plussed eyebrow, but her hand shakes as he puts her own letter into it and takes the scrap of paper from her.

Thanks for last night. I had fun. Great apartment!

xx Astrid

It’s smeared, written in makeup, casual in a way that Astrid isn’t. In a way he thought he was before he met her. His mouth goes dry and he tries to hide it, looking up at Heather and waiting for her to react to her own note.

She stares at it for a second before frowning and folding a new crease in it. When she holds it up at him like the last card in her Uno hand, it hits him for the first and final time that he really was batting out of his league with her. Not because she’s too good for him, even though his decision process over the last week or so corroborates that, but because she’s wrong for him at some fundamental level that he never believed in.

He knows he’s playing fast and loose with the concept of karma, but for the first time, fate makes some kind of sense.

“When did you find this?” She looks ashamed under her hard edges, the ones that don’t blunt and crumble even when they’re alone. The ones he used to think were strong when maybe they’re actually cruel, but he’s not dumb enough to blame her for making him that way.

Maybe they bring it out in each other. Brought.

“When did you write it?”

“Does that matter?” She laughs and Hiccup shrugs, willing himself honest even though it’s hard.

“Probably not.”

“Because of Alison, or whoever wrote the slutty little note you left me to find?”

‘Yes’ is the honest answer, but not the right one.

“Because you’re right. It’s not working.” He sighs, “it hasn’t been for a while, we’ve been…growing apart—”

“You haven’t been growing at all,” she retorts, “and your snarky, cryptic thing isn’t as charming as it used to be when I’m around it all the time—”

“That’s fair,” he taps his temple, “I live here, it’s not great.”

“You waited until I was out of town and cheated on me instead of just telling me directly that you’d found my note.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “and you didn’t give me the note, I think it’s fair to say that communication has been breaking down for a while. And communication is the cornerstone of any relationship, so suffice to say when that breaks down, the relationship goes with it.”

She shakes her head at him, slowly, a little shocked. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually surprised her, the last time she authentically laughed at his antics instead of spurring him on with a half-interested glint in her eyes. She doesn’t quip back though. That hasn’t happened in a very long time.

“What happened to you?” She asks after a too long minute and he shrugs.

“I…realized it was time to be honest. To stop doing this just because we feel like we’re supposed to, because we’ve put so much time into it.” He feels it now, everything that drew him to her in the first place. All the hours and days and weeks they spent together, making friction like it was a resource. “The fact is, I don’t think we’re right for each other. I think we’re just…or at least I was scared that there’d never be anything better.”

“So, you’re breaking up with me because you’re infused with optimism that we’re both going to find something better.” She shakes her head, looking lighter and bored and not hurt enough for what he did. “You really believe that?”

“Not believing it wasn’t working.”

“You’re an idiot,” she points at Astrid’s note, which might as well be his prized possession now, because he’s going to have to move and it’ll fit in his wallet.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, I’m furious with you but…I get it. I wrote the note, I wish you hadn’t found it while snooping, I should have just given it to you. I would have if I thought you were capable of being this mature about this—”

“No, not about—we’re broken up, I think we both understand it, but umm…did you ever fake it?” What starts as half a joke ends in some bitter, curious, cringing place that he never wants to visit again, but given that this is probably his last chance to get the facts, he goes for it. “When we were together?”

He makes a hand gesture that he wishes he hadn’t. Heather shakes her head and he thinks she’s feeling the bad fit too. He thinks, because he’s realizing that he never learned how to read her face, not really. And not because she didn’t let him, and not because he didn’t try, but it’s a language with a different taproot, something he could struggle with for years and never be fluent.

“A year together. A fucking year and—all this,” she gestures at the apartment that he didn’t even really like, but agreed to because going with the flow was the way to make their bickering day touring apartments end, “gone, and you want to know if I faked it?”

“You shouldn’t do that,” he lectures, internally cringing but feeling lighter. Vindicated, maybe. Fully through the veil of embarrassment and into someplace free. “It’s no good for you, it didn’t help me.”

“Right, you do so well with criticism.”

“Maybe I do,” he shrugs, “I think we both know there are a lot of things we never learned about each other.”

“You’re an asshole.”

And that makes him think of Astrid, and how he’s never felt closer to anyone, and how he wants this to be over with and then, how Dagur is probably going to beat him up. He probably should get in touch with his long lost cousin, that’s probably his only chance against Dagur’s impending wrath.

“I can move out.”

“Ok.” She stands up and looks at him with dwindling recognition, the polaroid of the present crystallizing in her memory and affirming him eternally as ‘that dickhead’. It’s…it sucks. He sucks. “Let me know when you’re out, I’ll go stay with Dagur.”

“Shouldn’t take that long,” he regrets how mean it sounds until it seems like she doesn’t care, cut off from him in a way that isn’t new. He should have noticed. They should have talked. They didn’t, he was an asshole, and now the idea of Astrid is a North star brighter than the blizzard and definitely brighter than the vengeance his ego would like to imagine in Heather’s expression.

Except it’s not there. And he has no ego, not right now, not when he’s so eager to exit this conversation and this chapter in his life.

She is too. She wrote the note.

He should have just told her he found it.

He’s so glad he didn’t, and he’ll hate himself for it later, when the leak in his heart is patched.

“Alright.” She stands up and he half thinks she’s going to shake his hand, but she doesn’t, “well, bye, Hiccup.”

Her voice might catch. His throat might hurt.

As soon as she leaves, he opens the dating site again and tries to message Astrid.

Hiccup (5:10am): I broke up with her

CustomerHelpBot (5:10am): The account you are attempting to contact has been inactivated

Hiccup (5:11am): good job changing your name, very convincing

CustomerHelpBot (5:11am): The account you are attempting to contact has been inactivated, for further information, please contact customer service at 303-555-7893

Hiccup (5:11am): that’s a really weird way to give me your number.

CustomerHelpBot (5:11am): The account you are attempting to contact has been inactivated, for further information, please contact customer service at 303-555-7893

Hiccup (5:12am): I’ll call the number

He gives the supposed threat a minute to sink in before doing just that, and the robotic voice that picks up honestly shocks him.

“You have reached the customer service hotline for America’s Favorite Dating Site, what can I do to help you?”

It’s not Astrid.

Not remotely.

For one, the voice is entirely humorless, entirely dead. Bored in a way she’s not capable of, he’s seen it as she prowled around this apartment he hates, looking for something to do. Also, it’s a guy.

“Hi, I—Hi, you’re not—I’m actually looking to get in touch with someone I met on your site—”

“What is your name, sir?”

“Hiccup Haddock, my username is—”

“PrincessOutpost?”

“Thanks for not making me say it out loud.” He was drunk when he thought of that. He was drunk when he made this stupid plan. He was sober when Astrid showed up, eyes bright and shoulders strong, breathing hard as she introduced herself and shook his hand.

So awkward. So pretty.

And no, that first time wasn’t great. It was…necessary, like spring cleaning, but after they talked…after they got to know each other…

“I’m afraid we can’t give information about any of our cancelled accounts to anyone but the police.”

“She cancelled?”

“The last profile that you interacted with is inactive, as of even earlier this morning.”

“That—come on, man, it—”

“I’m sure it was magical, but we are legally obligated not to give our customers information out.”

“I really just need a phone number or an address or…or a last name.”

“I get that sometimes you don’t get a chance to talk much—”

“Rude,” Hiccup snaps.

“But we are legally obligated to not give customers’ information to anyone but the police.”

“The police?” He pauses, picking Astrid’s eyeliner note up off of the bed and staring at it, resisting the stupid, fond, useless urge to swipe his thumb across her name.

“Yes, they’re men in blue who enforce the laws.”

“So, if I know she’d broken the law, you’re saying I could get that personal information.”

“Sir, our service doesn’t exist to help stalkers—”

“What about people who break and enter?”

#two night stand au #hiccstrid au #modern au #httyd fic #one more chapter methinks #i fought off melatonin to finish this because it kept haunting me

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homespork-review · 5 years ago

Text

Homespork Act 4, Part 2: Flight of the Paradox Groans

BRIGHT: Remember Spades Slick being bizarrely aware he was in a comic, back in the Intermission? Buckle up, things are about to get even more fourth-wall-breaking. Appropriately, this starts by the comic focusing on an actual fourth wall, which activates to show...Andrew Hussie.

Hussie’s MS Paint avatar notices the audience watching him, laments that his side of the wall doesn’t have an off switch, and then recaps the first year of Homestuck.

Now, in all fairness: The recap is thorough, full of links, and explains things fairly well. It’s quite long, but given how much territory it has to cover I’m not sure it could be any shorter. So it does its job well, and it’s a boon if you’re getting lost with the plot.

As for the author insertion...on this occasion I don’t mind it. It comes across as tongue-in-cheek, but framed more as the author talking to the reader than as the author inserting himself into the narrative. It’s definitely very Homestuck.

Anyway, AH gets back to work, and after a couple of false starts we return to John!

John is still flying around with his jet pack. GC trolls him to offer him a world map of LOWAS and tell him she feels awful about killing him, although in literally the next line she tells him that technically he never even died so she doesn’t understand why he’s so upset. John understandably finds this disturbing. They have a brief nonsensical discussion about Jesus/Jegus, and then John agrees to go take a look at what’s on the other side of his Second Gate. Yes, on the advice of someone whose previous advice got him killed.

CHEL: Almost a shame we didn’t set up a Too Dumb To Live count, but then to be fair that was a separate timeline and he’s probably not thinking of it as something that “really” happened. This is supported by his later dialogue.

FAILURE ARTIST: The word Jegus is really popular in the Homestuck fandom, used far more often than it is in the canon. Gets quite annoying, in my opinion. Actually, a rather Jesus-like figure does appear, but he’s not called “Jegus”.

CHEL: Yeah, I think only Terezi, John, and Dave ever use the term, but it somehow became latched onto as an actual term used by trolls in general, even though in canon it isn’t.

BRIGHT: Fortunately, this time GC appears to be playing nice. John flies though the Second Gate and emerges...into LOLAR?

FAILURE ARTIST: Hussie does an amusing trick where he has what looks like a loading screen for a flash but it’s actually a still image eternally at 2%.

BRIGHT: Yes, it’s LOLAR. John promptly crashes into Rose’s house, smashing through a wall and into her bedroom, where Rose is still snoozing in her knitting pile. Apart from briefly being stuck upside down, he does not appear injured by this collision.

Rose has somehow slept through the commotion. John decides to let her rest and borrows her computer to talk to Dave.

The first one he talks to is actually Davesprite, who points out how moronic John was to listen to GC again. No arguments here! Then he explains how the Gate system works: Odd-numbered Gates, above players’ houses, lead to somewhere on their planets. Even-numbered Gates lead to other players’ planets, exiting over their houses. Normally they aren’t meant to go through even-numbered Gates until the houses are built up, so they don’t fall to their deaths, but fortunately John has a jetpack workaround. So far Davesprite is living up to his promise of being straightforward.

John realises he’s talking to Future Dave, and asks “do you think i could talk to the real dave for a second?”

...ouch, John.

Davesprite goes off on a tear, ranting that he is a real Dave — arguably the realest Dave, since he’s been running around LOHAC for months trying to get enough information to save everyone. John apologises sincerely.

CHEL: This won’t be the last we hear of this theme, though.

EB: i think i pissed off your future self. TG: what did you do EB: i said he wasn't the real dave. TG: ahahahahaha EB: i think i might have really hurt his feelings though! TG: pff TG: dont worry about it EB: why not? TG: cause i wouldnt give a shit TG: and hes me

BRIGHT: Not a hundred percent sure I believe Dave, there.

CHEL: Dave uses John to snoop around Rose’s room and get the captcha code for her journals. Classy, Dave. Not a SLAMMER point, however, as this does come back to bite him very soon.

Rose’s dreamself has awoken on Derse, the purple planet, and flies across to the opposite tower. Dave’s dreamself appears to be awake, sitting upright in his computer chair; the room is entirely an unsettling bloody red colour apart from the SBaHJ cartoons on the walls, and… oh shit, there’s Lil Cal again, now in a long purple nightdress and hopping around the room on his own. If Rose was having nightmares because of dreamself issues, I can only imagine how Dave’s nightmares must look. Rose throws a ball of yarn at Dave’s dreamself, alerting him, and causing the awake Dave to pass out.

Back in Rose’s room, it seems that Charles Barkley quote was not misattributed:

FAILURE ARTIST: Another SBaHJ reference in the book quote. Is that where Dave got it?

Still, I don’t recall this book ever coming up again. Just another item that seems like a Chekhov's Gun but isn’t.

CHEL: John feels guilty about opening his birthday gift from Rose, but reasons that it’s technically now his anyway, so he does, finding another bunny, this one black and filthy-looking except for the pristine knitted purple patches repairing it, though its shape is eerily familiar.

The gift in this box is a resurrection. I used your present to thread life anew into a tattered heirloom. As long as I can remember, its black, greasy appendages have been tethered limply to its ratty, porous carriage. Too delicate to wash, too dear to discard. I used to love this rabbit. Now he's yours. I trust you'll find this to be adequately sentimental. Happy birthday.

Oh my gosh, awwwwww. Even if you don’t ship them romantically how can you not love their interactions? Definitely one of the comic’s strong points. Also I need to go hug my childhood teddy bear.

John puts the bunny back in the box again and the box in his sylladex, freeing Casey the salamander while he’s at it. And let’s just take a minute to feel utter horror because dead John still had Casey in his sylladex, so the best option is that she died too, and the worst is that we have an And I Must Scream situation on for a baby salamander. Gah.

FAILURE ARTIST: Thanks, I’d never thought of that and I never want to again.

You aren't actually sure if she is a girl though. You don't even know if salamanders can be girls. Aren't they hermaphrodites or something?

CHEL: No, for the record. Though some frogs can switch from one to the other.

FAILURE ARTIST: Casey is very popular as a name for an OC child of John (often having Rose as the mother).

CHEL: John answers Rose’s Pesterchum, upon which GA is half-heartedly sending antagonistic messages. John answers on Rose’s account, saying that Rose is asleep, which GA takes for Human Sarcasm, prompting John to pretend to be Rose.

GA: I Should Figure Out How The Viewport Feature Of This Application Works GA: So I Can See What Such A Primitive Creature Looks Like TT: haha, well i know what you guys look like. TT: you look kind of like... TT: howie mandel from little monsters.

Wait, how does he know? Am I forgetting a point at which he saw them?

BRIGHT: I always assumed that he was just goofing around and his guess happened to land in the right ballpark, but thinking about it, I’m not sure the kids ever express surprise at the trolls’ appearance.

CHEL: John, pretending to be Rose, talks about how awesome John is.

GA: He Is Either The Leader Of Your Party Or You Hold Whatever The Human Equivalent Of Mating Fondness For Him Is

CHEL: Both. Both is good!

FAILURE ARTIST: Knowing what we do of troll culture later this is an odd statement. Heck, it’s just an odd statement. Maybe this is why people think trolls don’t do friendship.

CHEL: John apparently confuses GA by saying it’s because Rose is thoughtful and John appreciates his gift, and suggests GA talk to John.

TT: why don't you pick the time that will make the most complicated mess out of everything imaginable?

GA sounds very annoyed, and leaves, intending to have the conversation with John that she had previously. We see her, GC, and the horns of AT and an unknown troll in the grey room, now revealed to be a computer laboratory. For some reason she chats via Pesterchum with another troll instead of just walking over to talk to them. This new troll is twinArmageddons, an appropriate name for the circumstances, who type2 iin yellow text liike thii2; he is, as it turns out, the hacker guy GC mentioned earlier. TA is busy setting up the network and seems irritable in general, and is not willing to help GA work her viewport.

TA: iif ii 2ee one more 2narl of wiire2. TA: kiind of juttiing out and beiing tangled or whatever. TA: ii am goiing two perform 2ome 2ort of athletiic fuckiing 2omer2ault off the deep end and get a call from the pre2iident or 2ome 2hiit.

Nice callback, but trolls, as we’ll later find out, don’t have presidents.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 14

GA wonders why TA doesn’t want to talk to her, and TA complains that he knew in advance the trolls were doomed and no one believed him. He refuses to troll the humans himself but is setting up the system so the others can in order to get them to leave him alone. GA asks again for help, to no avail.

TA: iif you cant fiigure 2hiit out by fuckiing around you dont belong near computer2. TA: kiind of liike wiith regii2tered 2ex offender2 and 2chool2. TA: iif you move two a new town you have two go up two your neiighbor2 door and warn them about how 2tupiid you are. TA: and giive them a chance two hiide all theiir iinnocent technology. TA: and vandaliize your hou2e.

Ooh, a threefer plus one! Tacky simile for the Problematykks. As for WSP, we’ll later find out that 1) trolls kill all their criminals, 2) trolls don’t give a shit about the welfare of their children, and 3) trolls don’t appear to actually go to school. These two counts are neck and neck in the lead now!

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 17 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 17

BRIGHT: As with much of Homestuck, the trolls give the impression of being made up as Hussie went along. That’s not entirely a bad thing -- it certainly makes the comic pretty unique -- but it does lead to some out-of-place slip-ups.

Anyway, GA chucks her F1 key at TA’s head and then starts poking him. We also see CG in the lab.

FAILURE ARTIST: I think I recall GA/TA were a popular ship before we learned more about GA. It does seem like they have a Rose & Dave dynamic going on.

BRIGHT: Back on Derse, Rose and Dave have a dance party to Dave’s music while accompanied by some crows and Lil Cal, who keeps teleporting around the room. Rose eventually gets tired of Cal’s shenanigans and hurls him out of the window, to the relief of many.

FAILURE ARTIST: The flash originally included music by Bill Bolin. In fact, it was his unfinished music being included here that caused all the drama in the first place.

BRIGHT: Time for some random interludes! First up is Maplehoof the pony, who is following Rose’s mother through a large cave which, judging by the grist lying around, recently contained very dangerous monsters.

FAILURE ARTIST: Apparently pets can collect grist for their masters...and know what grist is despite being a normal(?) animal.

BRIGHT: First Mom, and then Maplehoof, stand on a transportaliser platform and disappear. Second is Dad, who has just acquired a replacement shoe and hat (which showed up in the walkaround game, way back at the beginning of the Act), when he encounters a familiar-looking stranger with a Colonel Sassacre book, who leads him to another transportalizer platform. Both of these interludes do become relevant later, but at the time they seem a tad unnecessary.

Meanwhile, John uses Rose’s alchemiter and a code Davesprite gave him mid-rant to produce a truly epic hammer called FEAR NO ANVIL. It’s far too big for John to wield, but fortunately he can use the scaling upgrade on the alchemiter to reduce it to a more useable size. ...wait. When did Rose’s alchemiter get a scaling upgrade? Dave and Jade added a lot of modifications to his, but Rose’s should be the original edition. Sigh.

EB: so what is this? EB: the thing the code made... TG: really powerful hammer EB: how do you know? EB: i thought you couldn't use hammers. TG: i cant TG: better be though TG: got it from hephaestus EB: who's that? TG: really tough to kill dude EB: you killed him for it? TG: nope EB: how'd you get it then? TG: shenanigans EB: ok.

...and we’re back to sprite evasiveness. Davesprite is being less than forthcoming here, although it’s less obvious than with Nannasprite because it superficially imitates John and Dave’s bantering.

CHEL: Now, this would be a good way of keeping us interested if we were eventually going to see how he did it, and also they have a time limit, so not going off into a long anecdote would be understandable. However, we’ll see how his evasiveness level proceeds in the future.

BRIGHT: Dream Rose and Dave see John using Rose’s alchemiter on Dream Dave’s computer. Rose wakes up.

FAILURE ARTIST: It is interesting how early Homestuck avoided having characters have face-to-face conversations. Would have been unique if it kept up throughout the entire comic.

BRIGHT: Back in the meteor, GA hassles TA into opening the viewport on her computer. This turns out to be as simple as clicking on the point in Rose’s timeline that she wants to see. No wonder TA was frustrated!

Of course, by this point, the only one left in the room is Rose, now awake, and the young salamander. Rose hurries to catch up with John, but he blasts off to explore before she can reach him, taking her mutated kitten with him.

CHEL: John renames Vodka Mutini to Dr Meowgon Spengler, and Rose renames Casey to Viceroy Bubbles von Salamancer. Interesting link to the themes of identities which are starting to crop up, though it’s not really a direct analogue. The animals are the same animals with different names; the alternate timeline characters have the same names and superficially the same identities, but are they really the same people after their new experiences?

BRIGHT: Back on Derse, Lil Cal inexplicably lands on a stray rocket board, catching the attention of AR.

You're not sure which laws are being broken, but it is probably a lot.

AR follows Cal to yet another transportaliser, and they both dematerialise.

We jump back to John, who spies a boat on one of the islands dotting LOLAR and lands to investigate. He follows hoofprints in the sand into a subterranean hallway filled with monsters. Fortunately his new hammer has time powers, which stun the monsters long enough for John to kill them. Further on, he finds the transportaliser Mom used. John, naturally, stands on it, and is transported to a meteor in the Veil.

Actually, it’s not just a meteor; it’s one of the laboratories where the Skaian troops are produced. John, along with the cat and Maplehoof, finds a bunch of chess guys being grown in glass jars on a giant podium. Most of them are the standard carapaces we’re familiar with, but there are also a few larger pieces, apparently based on knights and rooks. He also finds a JUNIOR ECTOBIOLOGIST’S LAB SUIT, and another of those strange house-shaped sets of monitors.

On Prospit, PM is preparing to board a shuttle to Skaia when a COURTYARD DROLL sneaks up behind her. Unaccountably, she fails to notice him, despite the fact that he’s wearing a hat larger than he is. CD successfully pickpockets the White Queen’s ring, and PM departs for Skaia, none the wiser.

CD radios the DRACONIAN DIGNITARY to report mission success, and is told that he doesn’t need to keep wearing his ridiculous outfit, per orders from Jack Noir, who is now going by the SOVEREIGN SLAYER. CD says he’d rather keep wearing the outfit. Apart from the sword-through-the-chest part, it is a very nice outfit, so I’m with CD on this one.

Catastrophe is averted by Jade delivering a flying kick to CD’s head and following up with a very efficient smackdown. Her robot body replicates this back on Earth, beating the stuffing out of her mummified grandfather. Jade retrieves the ring, and puts it on her fingers to remind herself to give it back to PM later. Unfortunately, this doesn’t cause Jade to sprout wings and tentacles. Seems the rings don’t work on humans like that.

Meanwhile, in a Timeless Expanse, a WARWEARY VILLEIN is getting tired of the battle between Derse and Prospit. The next animation is called “WV?: Rise Up” and it’s one of my favorites! When I first read Homestuck I had to watch it a few times before I understood what was going on, but it is a very neat video.

Watch on YouTube

The Battlefield has been prototyped three times, and is now spherical. The forces of Derse and Prospit meet. The usual carapaces with swords are backed up by larger pieces -- some of them very strange -- and by battleships clashing in the sky. In the chaos, WV, who is farming peacefully on Skaia, has his home and farm burned down. He raises a flag and addresses the troops of both armies. Elsewhere, Jack Noir appears, flying over the Battlefield in search of the Black King.

WV rallies the armies and tells them that their real enemies are the monarchs, who are responsible for the war. Encouraged, the Dersite and Prospitan troops band together and march on the Black King.

Meanwhile, PM has reached the White King and discovers that she no longer has the White Queen’s ring. The White King listens to her and hands over his scepter, which seems to represent Skaia and serves a similar function to the Queens’ rings. Behind a nearby hill, the Hegemonic Brute radios somebody to report the transfer.

As WV and the united armies reach the Black King, Jack arrives and slices the Black King’s scepter in half, nullifying its powers and turning the Black King back into a normal carapace. PM is attacked by HB, who knocks the White King’s scepter out of her hand; it falls down a waterfall. Jack Noir beheads the Black King and turns to WV, and the animation ends.

...okay, much as I love it, I have to admit there’s a glaring question here: Namely, the kids started playing the Game less than a day ago and Dave’s kernelsprite has been prototyped for a few hours max. The second prototyping made the Battlefield more complex and the third took it into its current form. That’s a very short time to instigate a cross-faction revolution, organise the troops, and march on a monarch. For that matter, how long has WV been a farmer? The inhabitants of Derse and Prospit have obviously been doing their thing all the kids’ lives, but the Battlefield was supposedly a static, rudimentary space until John entered the Medium, so what gives?

Then again, the timeline in the Medium is supposed to be distinct from the timeline on Earth, so maybe that explains it?

CHEL: An interesting point is also raised by WV’s revolution. Namely, Derse is presented as a kingdom of darkness and evil by the game, while Prospit is presented as good. However, while PM is good, WV and AR are demonstrably not bad people either. In this animation, we see carapaces of both sides apparently don’t want to be involved in the war and are willing to rise up against the Black King. The rank-and-file carapaces on both sides, it seems, are decent people who are just following orders. (Not to mention very cute.) Jack Noir and his gang are nasty pieces of work, except CD who’s also just kind of going along with it, but there’s nothing saying white carapaces couldn’t also be… And is that a Problematykks point, presenting the black-coloured people as bad and the white-coloured ones as good? I know they’re chess pieces, but still.

This raises the question, however, what’s Derse’s motive? Are its rulers and archagents simply destroying for the evulz? I wonder. I also wonder how much Skaia itself is involved in this and how aware it is. Skaia is called the crucible of creation, and it’s responsible for the creation of the carapaces too. References are made to it “seeing” and “knowing”; it’s quite possibly sentient, though maybe not sapient. On top of that, SBurb is specifically a game, and a game needs an objective, and an adventure-type game needs enemies. Derse, it seems likely, was created and presented the way it is in order to give the players something to battle against even if its people don’t want to be their enemies. No wonder WV’s pissed!

BRIGHT: Yup. Hmm, thinking about it...the imps and other enemies we saw attacking John’s house early on were obviously Dersite, but the ones we’ve seen in Rose’s seem to be Prospitian, if anything? The colour scheme looks that way, at least. But Nanna said earlier that Derse was the enemy, nothing about Prospit.

Perhaps it has something to do with Rose being a Derse dreamer, while John is a Prospit dreamer? But in that case I’d have expected it to come up in the text. Instead it just goes unremarked.

Rose goes on a massive alchemising spree and ends up creating the Thorns of Oglogoth, a pair of wands.

The needles seem to shiver with the dark desires of THE DEEP ONE. Any sane adventurer would cast these instruments of the occult into the FURTHEST RING and forget they ever existed.

Instead of throwing the wands away, Rose takes on the enemies camping all over her house, with style.

Meanwhile, Dave goes on another, less visibly productive alchemising spree.

GET ON WITH IT!: 18

FAILURE ARTIST: The SBaHJifier could be considered productive in that it provides foreshadowing cartoons. Wish Dave’s Brain in a Jar came up again.

BRIGHT: Once he’s done creating smuppet variations to disturb the monsters encroaching on his house, he sits down to take a look at those two journals he copied from Rose earlier. One of them is called ‘MEOW’, and is literally just those same four letters, repeated over and over in different orders. The second is ‘Complacency of the Learned’.

There is no way to adequately recap the beauty of ‘Complacency of the Learned’, so we’re just going to show the whole thing:

Frigglish bothered his beard, as if unkinking a hitch in a long silk windsock. A more pedestrian audience would parse the exhibit as nervous compulsion. Behavior to petition contempt among the reasonable. He was however not surrounded by the reasonable, but the wise, a distinction in men that would forever be the difference in history's garland of treasured follies. As a matter of fact, his cadre of fellow wizards were all putting similar moves on their beards as well. The practice would evince thoughtfulness - sagacity, even - if they didn't do it all the time. Standing in line at the bank. Shooing squirrels from bird feeders. Few occasions were safe. Zazzerpan inspected the clue. A single piece of evidence cradled in his coriaceous old man palms. It was a human bone, not striking in the tale it told alone so much as that told by the thousands like it festooning the marshy soil of the mass grave. The grisly expanse bore the texture of a decadent dessert, like one of Smarny's formidable custard trifles wobbled out on wheels for the holidays, to the dismay of a small nation. "You're certain of this?" asked Frigglish. Despite what he was doing with his beard, he was, in fact, immersed in meaningful contemplation. "I am afraid I am becoming more so with each terrible tick groused by that gaudy timepiece slung around your neck." In case it wasn't clear, Frigglish wore a clock Zazzerpan didn't care for. It was magic. "The massacre of Syrs Gnelph was not as written." "What has you convinced it was the hand of our disciples in this blackness?" Executus chimed in. "I believe... I..." a fat face stammered, eyes darting with the guilt of a thief in the throes of an unraveling alibi. "I can summon a... more pressing line of inquiry..." No, Smarny. Nobody was in the mood for a sticky bundt loaf just now. Zazzerpan's ears fell insubstantial to any line of inquiry, pastry-oriented or otherwise. His abstruse contour carved a pondering shape in the fog carpeting centuries-dead. His eleven contemporaries too embraced the muted consternation of their great Predicant Scholar. Few wizards kept sharper adumbratives or read them with such lucidity. When Zazzerpan treated men with silence it was seldom unrepaid by the wise and reasonable alike. It was harrowing to entertain. Zazzerpan the Learned's storied Complacency of Wizards was marked for grander descendence. Disciples hand-picked, vetted by Ockite the Bonafide and tested by Gastrell the Munificent. The twelve sweetest, most studious children a pair of elderly eyes could give their sparkle. Not the ragged guttersnipe so oft-harvested by the common Obscenity, those vituperative little beggars with hearts to corrupt as dropped bananas brown. That these chosen youngsters would turn was not merely unthinkable, but something of a roundhouse to the temporal bones of the Upper Indifference's high chamber of Softskulled Prophets. His wisdom-savaged brow pruned further with recount of his many lessons to wouldbe successors. Lessons to advance humanity's elucidation and prosperity, an outcome this bleak trail now painfully obviated. There were few puzzles The Learned could not suspend and dissect in the recondite manifold beneath his extremely expensive pointy hat. Daring to pitch his cherished pupils in with the foul melange of history's rogues, the heretofore abstract scourge that built up civilizations with ungodly magic and tore them down with joyful malice, would prove an intellectual trespass to make his calcium-deficient bones quake. And more daring yet was the only question that now mattered. Could a bunch of bearded, scraggly old men in preposterous outfits hunt them down? He didn't have an answer. Only a simple observation so blunt and uncharacteristically jejune for the lauded sage it was breathtaking in its selfevidency. "We're going to need more wands." (Wow. Think of something better.)

Wow.

Dave is understandably intimidated by this, and decides to stop reading for now. He puts his copy of the SBURB Beta in the notebook to act as a bookmark, and leaves both books in his room for later.

Then he checks in on Rose, who is burning her version of the MEOW book.

CHEL: Dave inquires about the wizard story.

TG: i thought you hated wizards TG: whats the deal with that TT: I like wizards. TT: What I don't like is my mother's obsession with feigning interest in them to antagonize me. TG: oh man thats so messed up TG: that you think that TG: she probably digs wizards for real just like you and youre blowing shit out of proportion like pretty much always

Once again, we see exactly how fucked-up Rose’s relationship with her mother is. Mom Lalonde has somehow managed to raise a child in such a way that Rose interprets everything her mother does as an attempt to mock and provoke her.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 16

TIER: The Lalondes are pretty damn dysfunctional as a family unit, and considering the zany nature of early Homestuck and its world's weird logic that is saying something indeed.

CHEL: As for the MEOW book, it turns out the gods from the Furthest Ring informed Rose while she was sleeping that the book’s contents are highly dangerous and must be destroyed. Said gods dwell in the sky above Derse; Dave’s never heard or seen them, but Rose points out his dreamself is always wearing shades, listening to music, and distracted by Cal.

TT: You're the prince of the moon. TG: ........ TT: I'm sure they've been meaning to seek a royal audience. TG: ..........................

Davesprite chats to Rose next. She protests at being spied on by two people, but Davesprite asks her why she burned the codebook. She didn’t need to in the future, but according to her future memories of the gods absorbed from her future dreamself, Davesprite appeared to make it relevant by traveling to the past. A sinister and familiar face watches through Dave’s window, soon proving to be the Draconian Dignitary, while Dave and Davesprite awkwardly spout elaborate mixed metaphors about how safe they are, until Dave, embarrassed, says "so i guess ill go back down and burn that book".

As any savvy reader could guess, he’s too late. The prompt suggests that he should go back in time to stop the books from being stolen, but, well...

It looks like you already tried that. GORE GALORE: 10

Dave looks completely undisturbed, but whether he is undisturbed is a different matter. He flings the corpse out the window into the lava, claiming it would freak Jade out.

John, in the lab, presses a button, causing the first monitor to depict his town, shortly before his birth. There is a Betty Crocker factory and a shopping mall, neither of which are in the town now. Zooming in locks a target over Nanna Egbert, who is taking a stroll with Dad. A meteor looms; this looks like it’s going to go very badly, considering the target lock, but it hits the factory instead. When John presses the glowing blue button, a PARADOX GHOST IMPRINT of Nanna is created; refer back to Rose’s experimentation in the lab and the green slime blobs. This time, the slime is sucked into a tube.

The next monitor does something similar with Grandpa Harley on his ship, and the next the same with Bro Strider, who stands over a meteor crater on an unseasonably warm day; something of an understatement, as the sky is the same lurid red and the sun the same glowing spiral that they were during the Strider bros’ battle even though it’s December. Bro is, regardless, prepared for the occasion with a small pair of outrageously awesome shades. What he needs these for will soon be revealed.

The fourth monitor goes back to John’s home town, a gigantic crater where the factory once was. In the shopping mall, Dad Egbert stands outside a joke shop, while Nanna apparently remains inside, busying herself with a tall bookshelf, a ladder, and a rather hefty unabridged joke book.

Mom Lalonde, clutching the infant Rose and wearing a rather snazzy long Jaspersprite-pink scarf, has come to town to study the meteor impact at the request of Grandpa Harley while he explores elsewhere. Unfortunately, now is the time a meteor chooses to strike Nanna’s location, destroying the shop.

An old mother lost today, but a new son gained.

Wait for it.

Mom Lalonde flees, dropping her scarf, which Dad Egbert picks up and slightly creepily sniffs. The monitor continues tracking her, and John captures her paradox imprint too, starting the machines whirring away...

Four babies abruptly appear on the pad, already diapered and bespectacled and old enough to sit up unaided. Convenient, no?

When the kitten jumps on a green button, the slime is blended in pairs; Nanna’s and Grandpa’s, and Mom’s and Bro’s. More blinking lights ensue, and another four extremely familiar-looking babies appear.

BRIGHT: I will say this: These kids are adorable.

While babies clamber over him, John vaults up his echeladder to the rank of Ectobiolobabysitter, acquiring one million Boondollars in the process. This automatically converts itself to a Boonbuck, the weight of which smashes his Porkhollow.

Finding out just what is going on here will have to wait, as the comic takes a brief detour to a battleship navigating the Medium nearby. There’s someone very familiar at the wheel…

An old man has much to do before he returns to Earth, dies, gets stuffed by his adopted-yet-biological daughter-slash-grand-daughter, and stuck in front of a fireplace.

Also aboard the ship are Dad Egbert and Mom Lalonde. Dad returns Mom’s scarf, and the two of them hold hands as Grandpa Harley pilots the ship towards Skaia.

We return to the lab, where John has his hands full with the babies. One of them has managed to break one of the paradox slime jars from earlier, but appears uninjured. Also, CG’s trolling him again.

CHEL: CG makes mention of the ULTIMATE RIDDLE, but John is confused because CG hasn’t told him about that yet. He uses an ableist description in explaining.

CG: SEE I KIND OF PAINTED MYSELF INTO A CORNER. CG: I STARTED TROLLING YOU AT THE END, JUST BEFORE THE RIFT. CG: AND THEN JUMPED BACK A LITTLE. CG: AND NOW I GUESS I'VE BECOME RAILROADED INTO WORKING BACKWARDS HERE. CG: UNLESS I WANT TO DO THE SORT OF DUMB SCHIZOPHRENIC HOPPING AROUND LIKE THE OTHERS. CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 18

… why wouldn’t you just hop right back to the start and work in a linear fashion from there?

TIER: Because CG excels at making things complicated for himself and is fundamentally rather stubborn and set in his ways/actions. Like he's made his bed, he's gonna lie in it.

CHEL: Anyway, CG banters with John for a bit, and then informs him that he (John) has arrived in the Veil and created infant versions of the players and their guardians.

EB: so they are like cloned copies of us? CG: NO. CG: THEY ARE LITERALLY YOU AND YOUR GUARDIANS. CG: PARADOX CLONES.

A paradox clone, we are informed, is A CORRECTLY CLONED DUPLICATE THAT WILL INEVITABLY GO BACK IN TIME AND BECOME THE ORIGINAL TARGET THAT WAS CLONED. The game worlds contain many clues hinting at the ultimate destiny of the players to create their own selves through the game, and the only way things could possibly go involved the players creating themselves, or else the game session would never happen.

CG: WHICH IS ESPECIALLY PATHETIC SINCE PARADOX SPACE APPARENTLY WENT TO ALL THIS TROUBLE TO MAKE YOU JUST TO HAVE YOU FAIL AND DIE. CG: REALLY THERE'S NOTHING MORE TRAGIC THAN THESE NULL SESSIONS FULL OF KIDS ENTERING THE GAME AND FULFILLING SOME COSMIC DESTINY SHIT JUST TO GET WIPED OUT AND LEAVE BEHIND AN EMPTY POINTLESS INCIPISPHERE FOR ALL ETERNITY.

Tragic and completely unnecessary, when there are millions of perfectly good humans already in existence who could just as easily create winning game sessions without this aspect of it. Here we see another aspect of Homestuck which hasn’t come up quite so clearly before; an extremely weird take on determinism. I’m not sure if this is meant as a parody of Chosen One plotlines or if Hussie just thought it sounded cool, but it’s uncomfortable. As it turns out, only clones created by SBurb have a hope in hell of winning the game, and even they fail most of the time. Regular people who enter the game to save themselves from the destruction of the planet will fail and die there, which honestly is not really selling this game as a good thing, since it’s what causes the destruction of the planet in the first place. I’ve had actual, legitimate, honest-to-God nightmares about this aspect of SBurb, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

FAILURE ARTIST: I think many fans wish to play SBurb. There’s lots of fan sessions and fake GameFAQs and custom Lands. Yet in reality SBurb is not a fun time. This is cosmic horror. I think Hussie is sometimes playing it for horror and sometimes he ignores the implications.

Then again, some people want to live on the troll planet, which is straight-up dystopia.

CHEL: Again, it isn’t really clear what he’s going for. Is it supposed to be terrifying or did he just think it would be clever? Does even Hussie know what he was going for? While it’s not exactly a joke, I think it’s worth another point here:

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 17

It might be a joke. As I said, I could see it as a parody of or playing with the Chosen One narrative. In this case, literally only the chosen ones have any hope, for reasons that are not down to any merit of their own. But if it is, there isn’t really much made of it.

Of course, the reasons people want to live on the troll planet are reasonable when taken alone, but a) contradicted every alternate scene and b) not a fair trade for everything else that’s going on there. But we’ll get to that when we actually see it. And I admit, SBurb powers would be fun, but not worth the loss of my entire species.

TIER: To me at least it's fun in the same way wondering how I'd fare as a wizard during Harry Potter's years at Hogwarts, or a ninja in Naruto is. Fundamentally you'd rather want to never encounter this sorta stuff even if you get some swanky I guess powers, but the mental exercise of it is quite honestly, really fun. The game has quite a lot of interesting things to poke around with, from lands to quests to what your co-players are up to. And I'm def guilty of playing trollsona games, because the world presented is just really fascinating in its gruesome glory.

Never want to have to actually go through it, Lord knows I'd be dead within the first ten minutes if I'm super lucky, but stories about it are pretty neat.

CHEL: That’s true, but the paradox clones thing seems almost to be taunting us for having that mentality. We can pretend we’d be the super-smart strong competent ones who make it, but in this universe if we demonstrably have parents we’re doomed to die for nothing and there’s nothing we can do about it.

BRIGHT: Another fun thing about this is that it fundamentally isolates the players from the rest of humanity. If you think about it, unless they have children with a non-player, they are completely unrelated to anyone else on Earth.

CHEL: And they can’t have kids with a non-player unless something thoroughly horrible happened, because as is stated later SBurb specifically takes its players away and destroys their planet around the point of their puberty.

BRIGHT: Although I think John is actually related to Dad — as far as we’re told, Dad is in fact Nanna’s biological son, which makes him genetically John’s half-brother.

They also miss out on (going by how active the babies are) the first couple of years of life. Those two years are crucial in terms of brain development. SBURB probably controls for that, but it wouldn’t be surprising if there were negative consequences.

Oh, and if you’re a player, your existence means your civilisation is doomed. Lovely!

CHEL: And do the players ever feel any guilt or conflict over this? Do they hell. It doesn’t even occur to them, and I’m pretty sure it didn’t occur to Hussie either.

TIER: Welcome to the hell game that is SBURB; it's fundamentally pretty fucked up! It runs on a hellish scale of "things have already been predetermined" and I am Big Fear™.

CHEL: That’ll come up later, too, but there it’s obviously intentional nightmare fuel, and not at all a bad use of time travel as a story device.

CG, meanwhile, explains that he was the one to create his session’s players. With twelve of them it was a bit more complicated, but troll lineages are complicated anyway, and we’ll find out how later.

The babies are still getting all over the lab. Note that they're repeatedly referred to as "little pink monkeys". Then again, calling a non-white child a monkey really wouldn't be good.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 18

John’s infant self has latched onto the Sassacre book, while his infant Nanna is sitting in Dad Egbert’s old hat. Baby Bro is napping in the lap of Lil Cal; that baby’s braver than I am, I can tell you that. Baby Dave is sitting on Maplehoof, and baby Grandpa has found a pair of pistols. John does not take them away from him, or even seem to notice he has them.

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 7

BRIGHT: Earlier baby Bro broke one of the paradox slime cylinders and was sitting in it. John is pretty astoundingly bad at keeping babies away from obvious hazards.

TIER: That or the equipment is probably not sturdy enough to make it past an inspection into faulty management.

CHEL: But then he’s distracted by CG trolling him again, at least this time moving forward in time from the last conversation.

CG, like GA, apparently fails to grasp sarcasm...

EB: we had this great dare going. EB: to see who could be the least helpful and informative. EB: and you totally lost, dude! EB: you were hella helpful. CG: I WAS OBVIOUSLY JUST SPITING YOUR STUPID POINTLESS HUMAN DARE. [...] CG: ANYWAY, HOW COULD WE HAVE MADE A DARE IF I'M MOVING BACKWARDS ON YOUR TIMELINE.

… which is weird because moments later he uses it himself.

EB: do you even have elves? CG: YES, LET'S COMPARE WHICH FANTASY CREATURES THAT DON'T EXIST WE BOTH DO OR DON'T NOT HAVE. CG: WHAT A GREAT FUCKING IDEA, JOHN!

Hussie seems to waver back and forth a lot on whether trolls get sarcasm or not, in general. Since he’s contradicting himself with troll worldbuilding, that’s a point.

WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 19

Banter aside, he informs John that the babies are sent to Earth via meteors during the Reckoning.

BRIGHT: How do they survive the impact? Some of those meteor strikes destroy buildings. Those are some ridiculously resilient kids.

CHEL: Cut to AR, who is still having fun on the rocketboard, until he runs into a frog temple atop a meteor. This is apparently horrifying and illegal by his standards.

You are going to throw whoever is responsible into the slammer. You always call jail the slammer when you are extra angry at crimes.

Inside, he finds an empty time capsule, like Jade’s, some complicated machinery, and a monitor screen showing a greyscale house with a very familiar bespectacled female infant and dirty old hat in it. The year depicted, says the monitor, is 1910. Enter none other than Colonel Sassacre himself.

Eight days prior, the orphan girl was taken in by an aristocratic southern colonel and legendary humorist. He recovered the young lady from a crater where a bakery once stood, operated by the man's wife, a notable baked goods baroness.

An explosion outside leads them both to a crater, where once stood the doghouse of the colonel’s pet, Halley, but before the Colonel can investigate further he’s shot through the heart.

This is exactly why babies should not be allowed to dual-wield flintlock pistols.

BRIGHT: I remain baffled as to how Baby Grandpa can even lift those things, let alone pull the triggers.

CHEL: Baby Grandpa crawls from the crater, and Halley the dog turns out to be alive.

The young boy has difficulty pronouncing the name though. Sounds more like "Harley" when he says it.

How does he know it? The colonel died before he even noticed the baby was there. Is baby Nanna speaking well enough to tell him yet? I guess he could be told later, as Sassacre wasn’t in fact their only sapient guardian...

Thirteen years later, the boy develops a taste for adventure. He and his guardian bid farewell. His sister is sad. She will be left all alone with the wicked pastry baroness. She can handle it, he tells her. He believes in her.

It isn’t clear why she didn’t go with him, or leave under her own power. They don’t seem to be imprisoned, as the panel depicts them outside on grass with no restraints or guards over them, so it’s not a matter of only one of them being able to get out. That’s a point for Nanna not trying and a point for Grandpa not bringing her:

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 9

That dog is also remarkably lively, considering it, unlike Bec, is an entirely normal dog, it was an adult thirteen years previously, and it’s somehow supporting the weight of an entire teenager on its back (again, please don’t try this at home, you can break the dog’s spine that way).

FAILURE ARTIST: As we’ve said, Colonel Sassacre is a thinly-veiled Mark Twain expy. The real Mark Twain died in 1910 at the same time Halley’s Comet was in the sky. It’s a cute historical gag having him be literally killed by a comet but it does muck up the timeline. Nanna must have been a senior citizen when Dad was born. Perhaps he’s adopted?

CHEL: The other option is that Dad is a senior citizen now, but surely John would have wondered why his dad is so ridiculously old. I think it’s just that thing in mainstream comics and cartoons where adults are split into Old and Not Old, and the parents are normal ages for parents but the grandparents would have to be in their hundreds going by the gags. See how Scrooge McDuck in the DuckTales reboot is over a hundred and forty years old yet his sister’s son is still a youngish adult.

AR notes that the appearifier is centred over Halley the dog, but hears someone coming. It proves to be the Draconian Dignitary. AR hides and watches, noting that DD is carrying Rose’s notebooks and Dave’s beta envelopes. DD keeps the MEOW book, but throws away the other items. Complacency of the Learned lands on the floor, and the envelopes land in the time capsule, which sets to bloom in four hundred and thirteen million years.

Meanwhile, John talks to CG while infant Mom Lalonde pets the mutant kitten. John asks if there’s any way to delay the Reckoning, but nope; CG warns him that the smallest meteors will start going in only a few minutes.

EB: ok, well you keep saying how doomed we are and how all this bad stuff happens sooner, but you never say why! EB: what happens in our game that's different from yours that makes things go so badly? CG: JACK NOIR.

The Jack Noir from the trolls’ game session allied with them and helped them dethrone and exile the Black Queen, while the one from the humans’ session, as you may recall, killed the Black Monarchs and gained their powers, and is currently rampaging through the Incipisphere. John asks if it’s the same Jack Noir, but CG explains.

CG: SO LET'S SAY YOU PLAY YOUR BANDICOOT AND I PLAY MY BANDICOOT. CG: THEY ARE ESSENTIALLY THE SAME BANDICOOT, SAME APPEARANCE AND DESIGN AND BEHAVIORS. CG: BUT THEY ARE STILL COMPLETELY SEPARATE BANDICOOTS ON SEPARATE SCREENS. CG: SO WE BOTH HAVE OUR OWN ASS BANDICOOTS TO OURSELVES, THE SAME BUT DIFFERENT. CG: OUR JACKS ARE THE SAME BUT DIFFERENT TOO. CG: SAME GUY, DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES AND OUTCOMES. CG: OUR JACK TRUMPED THE QUEEN, BUT GOT NO FURTHER. CG: YOUR JACK GOT THE BEST OF BOTH OF THEM, AND IS NOW SOMETHING HIGHER THAN A QUEEN OR A KING… EB: like an ace? CG: SURE OK.

The trolls don’t know what went so differently to cause the two Jacks to behave so differently, but CG doesn’t think it matters by now. John interrupts him, deciding to do yet another Con Air ending re-enactment.

Watch on YouTube

Recap: montage of Con Air posters and images to the tune of “How Do I Live Without You”. John hands the thoroughly disgusting Con Air bunny to the protesting baby Rose, while CG watches huffily on his monitor. Jade demands a toy too, so John hands her the bunny he received from Rose in an excessively dramatic fashion. CG frustratedly hits himself in the head. In scribbly crayon-like drawings, Casey the salamander performs a drum solo with glowing blue mushrooms for drums and the Con Air plane crashes. More Con Air imagery, John embraces baby Jade and the baby Lalondes while sobbing; GC points and laughs at him over CG’s shoulder and they have a slapfight. John imagines himself in Nic Cage’s iconic wifebeater and mullet and performs an air guitar solo.

TIER: Lemme tell ya, as someone who's only experience with this darn movie is whatever pops up courtesy of John this sequence is just a trip and a half. Possibly a higher number.

CHEL: Cut to end-of-act curtains; they open on the next page, declaring a PSYCHE; there are more pages to go.

Cut to Dave’s hands, covered in the dead Dave’s blood. I… guess he’s supposed to be staring at them in shock? It’s impossible to tell through his shades. For all I know he could be worried about the cleanup. GC trolls him and they banter creepily, with her demanding to know what his blood smells like and him taunting her about her blindness.

TG: just him and me TG: havin a see party TG: like a couple of eagle eyed bros peepin shit up into the wee hours GC: D4V3 GC: C4N 1 COM3 TO YOUR S33 P4RTY? TG: i guess but youll have to be careful not to stumble around bumping into all the gorgeous masterpieces hanging around everywhere TG: god so beautiful to look at with my perfect eyesight GC: C4N 1 L1CK TH3 P41NT1NGS? TG: yeah thats fine

Neither of them seems to take it particularly hard. If there was narrative around the dialogue, I think we’d get a better grasp of how Dave feels. Lacking much body language or punctuation, tone is a bit tricky to get.

FAILURE ARTIST: There’s a character later who gets a lot of grief for insulting her blindness but reading what John, Dave, and CG say I don’t know how that character could be worse.

CHEL: AT, meanwhile, is trolling Jade, rather politely. He even takes time to ask if she’s having a good nap. She’s worried about John’s dreamself not waking, and AT scrolls into his view of the future timeline, but can’t find John awake, nor see into his dreams. Jade, however, will wake up soon, and she thanks him for this report. Unfortunately, when Jade wakes up she will be in danger, and AT can’t see any further. He tells her CG wants to talk to her about her exploding robot. He can’t see whether it exploded or not because there are a lot of explosions, but asking future Jade shows it did, and that she declared CG to be a pretty nice guy, which surprises AT since he doesn’t think CG is particularly nice. Jade says she thinks AT is nice too, and asks why he’s the only one who talks to her while she’s asleep.

AT: bECAUSE YOU HAVE A ROBOT, tO LET YOU SAY THINGS THAT HAPPEN, oN PROSPIT, AT: aND i'M CURIOUS, AT: bECAUSE THE ONLY TIME i EVER HAD FUN PLAYING THIS GAME WAS WHEN i WAS ASLEEP, AT: bUT NOW ALL OUR DREAM SELVES ARE DEAD, AT: }:'(

AT happily remembers his own time on Prospit, and we cut back to Rose, being trolled by GA despite the fact that Rose is obviously in the middle of an epic magic battle. The conversation is understandably chilly, and GA still hasn’t figured out that “Dumb Rose” as opposed to “Smart Rose” was John rather than a bizarre roleplaying scenario.

GC continues trolling Dave. He asks her how she operates a computer without sight.

GC: 1M SORRY D4V3 TH4T YOU W1LL N3V3R 3XP3R13NC3 TH3 S3NSORY BOUQU3T TH4T 1 3NJOY 3V3RY D4Y GC: TH4T 1 3NSCONC3 MYS3LF 1N L1K3 4 W4RM 4ND COMFY B4THROB3 M4D3 OF FL4VOR 4ND M3LODY TG: oh ok TG: so the dumbest and most far fetched explanation imaginable ok got it

Yes, pretty much. This brings me to a Problematykks point; GC is supposed to be blind, but it really doesn’t seem to affect her in any way at all. Its workaround is ridiculously convenient and effective, and while I’m not blind myself, I know many people with physical disabilities hate it when fiction does this. I know I would be pissed off if a piece of fiction showed an easy and convenient way to not have autism anymore. (Horrible, horrible memories of someone back in the days of Livejournal’s Fanficrants of a fic in which autism was somehow cured by having a foursome. I don’t remember how that was supposed to work.) “She’s a space alien” only goes so far in explaining it. Why even bother making her blind if it’s not going to affect her in any way?

CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 19

FAILURE ARTIST: She’s the least blind blind person in media. Characters like Daredevil from Marvel Comics and Toph from Avatar the Last Airbender have a Disability Superpower but at the end of the day they still can’t do things like read printed text. GC has no disadvantages.

BRIGHT: She can apparently smell and taste photons.

Which raises the question why none of the other trolls ever show a heightened sense of smell or taste. If GC can learn to interpret smells as colours, her sense of smell must have been that strong all along, and there’s no indication in the text that she’s biologically more sensitive than her companions. Trolls must be better at following a trail than bloodhounds.

CHEL: Synaesthesia which makes one strongly associate colours with smells is a thing, and synaesthesia is generally the word the fandom uses to explain Terezi’s ability, but you still have to actually see the colours for that to work. If she was only mostly blind and was picking up blurry colour patches, I could buy it (and that is how the fandom tends to do it with human AUs), but not if she’s supposed to be completely blind, and she still wouldn’t be able to read text that way.

BRIGHT: Time for another animation, and for a hop back into the recent past.

Watch on YouTube

As the meteor locked onto Dave’s house approaches, Dave climbs up the tower to retrieve his cruxite egg from the nest his sprite made. Unfortunately the sprite attacks him, knocking him and the egg off the tower. Bro Strider appears on top of the approaching meteor and slices it in half with his katana; the two halves are diverted by the blow and strike different areas of the city. Dave’s fall is broken by a rocket board, which is presumably how Bro got up to the meteor in the first place. (How did he manage to aim it to intercept Dave’s fall? Wouldn’t it take longer to get from the meteor to Dave than it takes for Dave to fall from the top of the tower to the roof of the building? We shall never know.) The egg hatches, and Dave is transported into the Medium. There’s no sign of what happens to Bro.

CHEL: Yet more cartoon physics around the Strider bros.

BRIGHT: I don’t know if we mentioned this earlier, but although Dave and Bro live in an apartment block that presumably housed multiple people, only Dave’s apartment gets transported into the Medium. Everyone else in the complex is left to die on Earth. SBURB is sociopathic.

Elsewhere in the Medium, back in the present, Grandpa’s ship is approaching Skaia, with Mom Lalonde and Dad Egbert on board.

Down on Skaia, Jack Noir draws his sword and slaughters the army WV raised to march on the Black King. WV cowers, but Jack leaves him alive. He then uses the Black Queen’s ring to send some sort of giant red tentacle attack through Skaia, slaughtering Dersite and Prospitian forces indiscriminately.

CHEL: Are they tentacles? I always thought of them as some sort of lightning lasers.

BRIGHT: That makes a lot more sense!

In the ectobiology lab, as the clock ticks down to the Reckoning, the babies are teleported to asteroids around the lab. There must be an air supply in this asteroid belt — characters are consistently shown as being able to survive outside.

CHEL: Maybe it’s just the players’ natural badassery. Batman Can Breathe In Space.

BRIGHT: On Skaia, CD makes his way through Jack’s slaughter fest, which has now ravaged a sizeable chunk of planet, and hands him the White King’s sceptre. Jack raises the sceptre and initiates the Reckoning. The meteorites start to vanish into Skaia’s defence portals. In the frog temple, DD somehow combines the MEOW genetic code with a paradox clone of Halley, creating Jade’s guardian Bec. Bec’s creation damages the laboratory equipment in the temple.

Cut to Jade, who is snoozing peacefully while her dream self explores Prospit. She looks up at Skaia, to see Jack’s shadow passing in front of it. Jack launches his tentacle attack on Prospit, slaughtering the inhabitants, then severs the chain attaching Prospit’s moon to the planet. The moon begins falling towards Skaia.

Jack then flies to LOHAC, where he encounters Bro Strider on one of the turntable mesas. Unexpectedly, Bro is able to give Jack an even fight. After a few exchanges, he drives his katana into the mesa; some sort of golden light emanates from the crack, and Bro absconds.

Wait, how did Bro get onto LOHAC? How did he survive the meteor impacts?

TIER: The ol' "rule of cool". As long as something is sufficiently "absolutely kickass!!" the rules of reality and physics can go sit on the bleachers twiddling their thumbs for all they fucking matter. There's a reason early fandom pinned down Bro as an unorthodox but immensely cool older brother type guy for so long. Because with what little information was available before we got bludgeoned with "No actually he was the absolute fucking worst thing to happen to Dave and fucked him up for life" that was the general impression he gave off.

CHEL: This and the meteor splitting are yet more reason not to take Bro’s treatment of Dave seriously; this is a world in which ludicrous animesque badassery rules the day, and physically impossible feats of battle occur every five minutes. Forcing a child to go through extensive and excessive sword training in brutal heat in a precarious place, possibly every day, ought by rights to be normal there, and I can’t believe he was physically hurt by swordfighting when he survived a meteor collision as an infant. Besides, training that extensive quite possibly could be the only thing that would keep Dave alive in these circumstances.

ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 18

BRIGHT: There’s a random Squiddles interlude, and then we return to Skaia.

John’s unconscious dream self has fallen out of Prospit’s moon as it plummets towards Skaia. Jade tries shaking him awake, and then slaps him, but to no avail. At the last moment, she throws him out of the path of the moon, and her dream self is then killed when it lands on her. Back on Earth, her dreambot overloads and explodes.

CHEL: Taking her tower room with it; Jade’s sleeping body plummets towards the earth.

BRIGHT: The moon leaves a gigantic crater in Skaia. John’s now-conscious dreamself hovers above it.

The babies vanish through the defence portals to Earth.

CHEL: Each takes an item with them. John takes the Sassacre book, Rose the first Con Air bunny, Dave rides Maplehoof, Jade takes the bunny Rose gave to John (which is in fact the Con Air bunny plus several years and repairs), Nanna sits inside Dad’s old hat, Mom takes the mutant kitten, Bro sleeps in the lap of Li’l Cal, and Grandpa dual wields the flintlock pistols he should not be allowed.

BRIGHT: Dave and Rose reach the Gates above their houses and set out to explore their Lands. We close on an eerie shot of Bec outside the frog temple on Jade’s island at night.

CHEL: Jade’s tower room is blown to bits, and a truly enormous meteor hovers over the scene.

Curtains close. End of Act 4. Before Act 5, we receive a message from Rose, via her GameFAQ.

[ZZZZ] Rose: Egress. This is my final entry. My co-players and I have made every earnest attempt, with occasional relapse, to play this game the right way.

Really? You haven’t been in the game for more than a couple of hours and Jade still isn’t in at all! Maybe consider that the fact that not all your players are in the game yet when you wonder why it isn’t working?

I have been meticulous in documenting the process to help our peers and successors through the trials should we fail. In my hubris I believed these classes were relegated to the Earth-bound, but in even this quaint supposition I was in error. Our otherworldly antagonists have assured us of our inevitable failure repeatedly, while the gods whisper corroboration in my sleep. I believe them now. I just blew up my first gate. I’m not sure why I did it, really. I am not playing by the rules anymore. I will fly around this candy-coated rock and comb the white sand until I find answers. No one can tell me our fate can’t be repaired. We’ve come too far. I jumped out of the way of a burning fucking tree, for God’s sake.

I can see her point. The game is horrible and should be stopped. On the other hand, I’d at least attempt to spend more than one day investigating it before trying to break it. Randomly destroying shit is more likely to make things much worse than anything else.

I have used a spell to rip this walkthrough from Earth’s decaying network, and sealed it in one of the servers floating in the Furthest Ring. The gods may disperse the signal throughout the cosmos as they wish. Perhaps it will be of use to past or future species who like us have been ensnared by Skaia’s malevolent tendrils. In case it wasn’t clear, magic is real. Pardon my egress. You’re on your own now.

This note is signed with a glowing multicoloured “RL” and revealed to be emitted from a purple box with an aerial, floating in space. It seems that’s how their internet’s still working.

FAILURE ARTIST: The internet seems to be a magical dimension in Homestuck and not something that’s part of physical infrastructure.

CHEL: Hours in the future, WV lands in the desert remains of Earth, wrapped up in John’s old ghost-patterned bedsheet, which is still white. A villein becomes a vagabond. In his memory, he tears up an effigy of Jack Noir… where’d he get it? Did the game create it for some reason? Anyway, John’s blanket falls on him from the sky as Prospit plummets; WV calls it a RAG OF SOULS. Adorably melodramatic.

John’s awoken dreamself gazes sadly at Jade’s deceased one, which for some reason isn’t actually under the rubble of Prospit and appears to still be three-dimensional. There’s no excessive blood splatter like with the dead Dave, which is good, not too over the top. He retrieves the Queen’s ring from her hand. Was he told at any point that it’s important? Because if he doesn’t know, I’m not sure robbing the dead is very heroic. He sees an image of himself flying over the battlefield in a large cloud above him; in the vision he’s near a castle, so he goes to seek it out.

On Earth, PM wraps herself up in an old Prospit banner. A mistress becomes a mendicant. In her memories, she has beheaded the Hegemonic Brute and is arranging a meeting with Jack Noir. He arrives and she presents the crowns; smirking evilly, he honours their bargain, and the Courtyard Droll brings her the green parcel. She brings it to the castle from John’s vision as he arrives there, hands over the box, and angrily walks away.

FAILURE ARTIST: She’s Honor Before Reason (maybe she’s programmed that way) but she has the right reaction. This is a lot to go through to deliver a package.

CHEL: Inside the box is a letter from Jade’s unknown pen pal, who writes in dark green and a distinctive jolly-hockey-sticks dialect, with a tendency to ramble off on tangents about movies and wrestling.

Anyway you should listen to jade from here on out john because she sure seems to know whats best for you. Whatever your adventure throws at you im sure shell tell you you can handle it. She believes in you.

And another letter from Jade.

even though its super late and you probably went through a lot of trouble to get it, i really hope this present cheers you up! you looked so sad while you were reading my letter. um... which is to say, the one you are reading now.

She explains that in her dreams she goes to Prospit and John’s sleeping dream self is there, and that’s where she gets her visions. She hopes he likes his present, and says her penpal is fun…

john i am REALLY looking forward to seeing you when you wake up!!!!! its been nice playing with my prospitian friends and all, but also kind of lonely knowing you were in the other tower sleeping and having lousy dreams. :( im not sure where i am when you are reading this but im sure ill make it down to where you are soon! (jeez how did you get down there??? oh well ill find out) i cant wait to fly around the moon with you and show you all my favorite places. itll be so much fun!!!!!!!!! :D <3 jade

Ow. I think this is the only time John cries in the entire comic.

A Single Tear(™) is a bit of an understated reaction to the death of one of your best friends who you just recently learned is also your twin sister, but to be fair, John isn’t left with very much time to react, as next panel Jack Noir’s sword is pointed at his face.

BRIGHT: John knows about dream selves and waking selves by now, I think?

CHEL: He knows they’re a thing but I don’t think he knows they count as backup lives. AT told Jade dream selves can die separately from regular selves but I don’t think anyone told John.

FAILURE ARTIST: Jack Noir wants the ring, but then he’s stopped by Jade’s gift: a robotic bunny wielding multiple weapons.

They line up for a fight.

Hours in the future, on a destroyed planet, AR wraps police tape around himself and becomes a Aimless Renegade. Before the disaster, he went to the Veil, where he found a sleeping John. He saves John by putting him on a rocket board.

Back to the robotic bunny. Jack Noir flies away from the fight. Grandpa’s battleship lands and Grandpa takes away Jade’s body. Mom and Dad disembark the ship and wave goodbye as it leaves. Grandpa cries a Single Tear as he transports Jade’s already taxidermed body. Did he have a machine?

CHEL: For that matter, why isn’t he helping anyone who’s actually still alive while he’s there?

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 10

FAILURE ARTIST: Nope, transporting a dead body is more important.

Again going back, White Queen leaves Prospit. On landing, she becomes Windswept Questant and wanders the Earth. We go forward years later. She repairs the laboratory and meets up with AR, WV, and PM. WV’s homemade spear hides the ring.

John watches this scene through the clouds of Skaia. He looks at the ring in his hand. In another cloud, there’s Jade’s laboratory. We close in on it and inside is The Fourth Wall. It isn’t turned on, but we are still lead to Andrew Hussie, banging away on a computer keyboard as he recaps the plot for a second time.

CHEL: Which we shall do as well when we’re done with this section, because it’s insanely hard to keep track of everything.

FAILURE ARTIST: Andrew Hussie says Nanna’s comet landed 99 years before John’s “birth” so he has some clue about the age but still doesn’t see it odd that a woman that age has a son who is probably only in his thirties.

CHEL: As I said, it’s also possible Dad was really old too, but that’s never really suggested. Not to mention, since they were brought into existence as toddlers, shouldn’t the kids be noticeably older than the ages given for them? John should be biologically fourteen to fifteen by now and at that age that can make a visible difference. I know the art style doesn’t really give clues, but no one I’ve seen has ever pointed that out in fanfic either.

FAILURE ARTIST: Newborns aren’t distinctive looking and can’t really do the cute things toddlers do. People in TV and movies regularly give birth to six month old infants so it’s not strange.

CHEL: True, but this isn’t TV, it’s a comic, and they don’t have to use an actual infant as a prop here.

BRIGHT: Possibly it’s intentional. Among other things, we see the newly-created players survive short trips through vacuum, crash-land on Earth without even minor injuries, and handle weapons they shouldn’t be able to lift for another four or five years. This could work if players have superhuman abilities (that is, beyond the classpect system). If that was the intent then it really should be made more explicit, though.

Of course, what it really boils down to is that Homestuck runs off Rule of Cool and Rule of Funny, and occasionally breaks down on examination as a result.

On the whole this is a solid Act, I think! We have a lot of new stuff happening, more characters get introduced, and we find out some more about the trolls. It’s much less rambling than Act 1.

COUNTS ALL THE LUCK: 0 ARE YOU TRYING TO BE FUNNY?: 18 CALL CPA PLEASE: 8 CLOCKWORK PROBLEMATYKKS: 19 GET ON WITH IT!: 18 GORE GALORE: 10 HOW NOT TO WRITE A WEBCOMIC: 15 HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 10 IN HATE WITH MY CREATION: 0 RELATIONSHIP GOALS?: 1 SEND THEM TO THE SLAMMER: 1 SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS: 0 WHAT IS HAPPENING??: 9 WHITE SBURB POSTMODERNISM: 19 TOTAL: 127

#homestuck #Let's read #homestuck meta #reread #literary critique #sporking #Homespork

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dat-fandom-losertown · 5 years ago

Text

Happy NHPC Day!

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Chapter 1

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Spideypool / Peter Parker + Wade Wilson

Warnings: Non-graphic Violence, A paragraph or two of homophobia, A single homophobic slur

Word Count: 6,122

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Summary:

Peter and Wade have a tradition they've been following every Valentine's Day and National Half-Priced Candy Day for several years now. They patrol all day and night for Valentine's in their special "June-themed" suits, and on the 15th they spend their day cuddling, eating cheap candy, and napping to make up for the lack of rest from the day before. This year, though, Peter wants to do something slightly different for NHPC day. Something neither of them will ever forget.

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~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

Hey guys! I know I haven’t written anything but D:BH here so far (and I may make a late Valentine’s thing for that fandom too), but it had always been my plan to be a multi-fandom account eventually, and I couldn’t miss out on the “Isn’t it Bromantic” Spideypool Discord server’s Valentine’s Day Challenge!

If Spideypool isn’t your thing, I totally get it and I don’t expect you to read this (and I’m gonna be making a post about what to do if you don’t want to see a ship or fandom you don’t like real soon), but if it is your thing, then Welcome! There isn’t much true fluff in this chapter, and this is kind of all over the place, but there absolutely will be tomorrow in the second part and things will tie together! So please hang in there, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

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“Spidey-poo! Spider-honey! Web-darling!”

Peter quickly spots Wade’s bright suit and rolls his eyes as he quickly and sternly shushes him, knowing the other super can hear him even if he’s on the rooftop across the street. He swings over and meets Wade on the other side with practiced grace.

“‘Pool, it is five in the morning and normal people are still sleeping! You can’t just yell like that!”

Wade, as expected by this point, completely ignores Peter’s halfhearted chiding and instead sweeps him up into a large bear hug as if they hadn’t just seen each other thirty minutes ago.

“My baby boy’s looking extra bi for this valentine’s day!” He spins them around a couple of times for good measure, then sets him down, keeping his hands on his shoulders. “Did you upgrade the gay suit? Because this looks even better than it did in June!”

A few years back, Wade had jokingly made a comment about wearing pride colors on patrol during the month of June, just to rub it into the “old bigots’ faces” and to get a good laugh. After a day or two of not being able to get that thought out of his head, he figured that if cops can’t be at pride, then at least Spiderman and Deadpool should be able to join in to keep the crime at bay.

As soon as he told Wade this, the ex-merc went all out. He made an entirely new suit for the occasion instead of just taping a flag to his shoulders like Peter was expecting. He argued that “How are the people supposed to know we’re there to help and support if all they see is the usual red with black and red and blue?” and admitted he already had designs for their pride suits ready to go for ages. Wade’s was based off of his pansexuality with all the red parts turned bright pink, the black became bright blue, and all of his weapons (most of them being non-lethal now, thanks to Peter’s insistence) replaced with ones that are bright gold and yellow.

That first year, Peter refused an altered suit, mostly because back then their relationship was newer and he was worried about somehow paying Wade the favor back. Although, he allowed Wade to make it the next year since the design for it was much more subdued than Wade’s by far, and he seemed to have so much fun in his new get up. For Peter’s suit, the blue stayed the same, the red became magenta, and his eye-pieces and web designs became purple all in tribute to his own bisexuality.

The next February after that was when Peter (not Wade, surprisingly enough) came up with the idea to wear these suits on their annual Valentine’s day 20 hour watch, just to show the heteros that they still exist outside of pride month.

That, and “Bi-derman” and “Pan-pool” slash “Dead-pan” are kind of a big hit, so why the hell not?

Peter hasn’t done much altering to his suit beyond repairs, but since last June, he’s completely remade the suit in a tougher material and made the blue and magenta more vibrant and the purple web designs darker to help with the contrast. He also made his eye-pieces white because holy hell was it hard to see through those darker lenses.

“You have a good eye, ‘Pool. Do you like it?” He sticks his arms out and slowly spins as he continues, “I remade it with the extra money from that raise I got a while back.”

Wade quickly grabs Peter and pulls him close again, this time letting his hands roam over the fabric. He can feel the appraise Wade is silently sending him, and the part of him that was worried about making the protective padding on his chest and gut look more muscular rather than lean settles immediately.

“Mmmyes. Me likey this a lot.” He takes a step back and pointedly looks Peter up and down, “Where did you even hide this? I swear I looked in our secret closet and under the bed when I definitely wasn’t snooping for my Christmas presents again.”

Peter rolls his eyes, and he bets that Wade knows it even if his eyes are covered. “If I told you where then I’d have to find a way to erase your memory, because killing you isn’t an option.”

“I dunno, babe, you just might kill me with this damn suit.” He hesitates, then flops his head back with a groan, “Fuck, you’re right, I only get to see it on you for a month and a day a year. How did you even get this level of muscle definition to show through your suit? You look like you do in some of the comics! Clothes in real life don’t work like this!”

“Bullet-resistant padding thanks to Tony and a lot of neat seam-work to make it look like natural muscle.” Peter states matter-of-factly, “Get me the materials and I could do the same for your suits, since I don’t think Tony will offer to give you any.”

“Nah. I don’t need it, and I don’t want to distract from this gorgeous bod’–” he cups Peter’s face “–anytime soon.” Wade gently places his forehead on Peter’s, letting their masked-noses bump. He ruins the moment by murmuring “Is there anything I can do to make you wear this suit in the bedroom?”

“No.” Peter swiftly turns and walks to the edge of the building, waiting for Wade to hop on his back.

“But baby...” the man in question whines, “You wear your other one–”

“Only sometimes and only when you distract me before I can completely change, and I don’t want this one ruined before I can wear it this June.” He ignores Wade’s pout and says, “This fabric is much harder to wash.”

“Ugh, fine. At least I get to watch you flip around some baddies today” he wiggles happily.

“You won’t if you don’t friggin’ hurry up!” he sing-songs, casting a web out in preparation to swing away.

Wade doesn’t respond, but his spidey-senses tingle a warning of something incoming, so he braces himself as his boyfriend leaps onto his back. He loops his legs over Peter’s hips and his arms around his shoulders, then they’re off.

They swing for almost 45 minutes before the duo hear their first cry for help of the day.

Peter hastily swings over to where they heard the woman cry out, and from there it isn’t hard to find her being held hostage by a man in a wolf mask (seriously, why a wolf? Could he only afford a mask from the halloween clearance shelf?) while a well-dressed man shakily pulls out his wallet. Wade drops in, and Peter pretends he didn’t hear the crunch of one of his joints twisting wrong during the landing. By the time Peter drops in to help calm the couple down, Wade has already knocked out and tied up the perpetrator. The couple thanks the vigilantes, then hurry off to the subway, eager to get back to a safer part of the city.

As per usual on their Valentine’s day “event”, they personally drag the mugger to the police station themselves. The police usually have enough on their plate as it is without Spiderman and Deadpool calling them all day to pick someone up if the duo can just do it themselves. Besides, it gives the couple a chance to interact with the public, even if that’s sometimes less-than-pleasing.

Thankfully, they don’t run into too much drama on the way to the station. A young man on the way to work stops them for a picture, admitting that he’s been excited to see the pictures of them in their pride uniforms online later today while a stranger scoffs at them, but that’s hardly drama and is completely expected.

When it starts getting close to seven o’clock in the morning, things start picking up. By the time nine rolls around, they’ve stopped two more minor muggings and talked someone down from trying to commit a crime, which doesn’t successfully happen nearly as often as Peter would like. They buy an ungodly amount of breakfast and hand a chunk of it out to homeless people before they spot someone trying to break into a window on the fourth floor of an apartment building. Peter goes to take care of it while Wade skips away to pass out more food.

“Yo!” Peter calls jovially as he climbs up the wall, “You know, this is extremely dangerous for someone who doesn’t have spider powers, so if you could just–”

His spidey senses suddenly warn him and he jumps to the left, narrowly missing a metal skewer to the shoulder.

“What the hell?! Do you know how dangerous it is to carry those around–” he dodges another one “–normally? And, like, you’re on a rickety– woah!–” He twists his body in order to not get hit “–rickety old fire escape throwing them, so–” He narrowly misses the next one “–Damn it! Would it hurt you to stop for two seconds! Why are you even getting into this specific apartment? There are easier and sneakier ones to get into!”

“My ex wife lives here.” He confesses, throwing another skewer, “She cheated on me with two other people, then divorced me and is trying to take everything! See! I’m not some low-life criminal, so just leave me alone!”

Peter wasn’t actually expecting an answer, but he can try to make-do with this.

“Do you have evidence of her cheating?” he tries, and it must work on some level because the man stops throwing skewers. Just how many did he have, anyway? And why skewers of all things?

The man nods, still hesitating on the next skewer. Damn it, he needs to think of something fast. Well, he doesn’t need to, but he’d rather not send this guy to the cops. He seems like one of the dudes he can calm down.

“Okay, well, do you know if the people she cheated on you with knows she’s cheating on them?”

The guy ponders this for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”

“So… Why not try getting together and form a mini mob to maybe, I dunno, publicly humiliate her? Instead of breaking into her apartment or hurting her? Or both? Instead of making yourself out as the bad guy?”

“Ooo! Who are we publicly humiliating!” Deadpool calls from the bottom of the fire escape. “I want in on the action! I’m really good at scheming!” he rubs his hands together like some kind of mad scientist.

“Deadpool, now is not the time–”

“So you’d help me get revenge on my cheating ex-wife?”

“Wait–”

“Oh hell yeah! We’re gonna blow her cover just like I blow–”

“Okay!” Peter shouts over what was undoubtedly about to be Wade bragging about their nighttime activities again. Or maybe he was actually going to mention one of the explosives or grenades he has back at home, who knows?

This scenario is one of the “If you can’t beat them, join them” type, isn’t it? Well, in this case it’s probably closer to “If you can’t stop them, leave and pretend that it isn’t happening for as long as possible, then deny it did for even longer.”

He sighs and mutters “I can not believe I’m about to do this,” before shouting down to Wade, “Since you’re apparently going to actually do this, can there not be any bodily harm or apartment destruction? If not anything else?”

“Aw, but baby boo, arson is the third best crime to commit…” At Peter’s stern look, he relents. “Fine, but if we’re gonna do this right, but I want a little fee for this amazing plan I’m coming up with!”

Peter takes that and the man’s positive response as his cue to leave and pretend his boyfriend isn’t plotting to cause a huge scene with three other people today. It’s much easier to do once he catches some asshole slipping his hand up some girl’s dress while keeping her at gunpoint in some alley.

A web here, a punch there, and another punch, and a kick. Then one last kick and punch just for good measure, along with another web, and the girl is saved and the wrong-doer is unconscious and tied up. In the not sexy way, Deadpool would probably add if he was here.

“Thank you, Spiderman!” he hears the woman sobs before she pounces on him with a hug.

“Woah, hey, you’re safe now.” He awkwardly hugs the stranger back.

“He’s been stalking me for a while and I’ve just been hoping that I could get close to a police station or something but then he disappeared and cut me off and I couldn’t run in these heels and he got me–”

“Hey hey hey, he’s gone now. He’s not gonna hurt anyone anymore, okay?” He pulls away from her, and she gives a shaky nod. “Okay, do you have anyone you can call–”

“Spidey!” he hears the familiar voice sing at the end of the alley, “You left without me!” The footsteps suddenly stop, and Wade’s voice becomes much softer. “Hey, you alright? No one important is hurt?” He glances over to the webbed up man briefly.

The woman shakes her head. Knowing that Wade will probably keep quiet for now, Peter restates his question.

“Do you have anyone you can call for now so you’re not alone?”

The girl nods again, “I was just on my way to meet my partner. They’d come right away.” She huffs a wet laugh, “They actually adore you two. You helped them from a bunch of bullies at pride two years ago.”

“I’m glad we can get to them in time, then.” Peter smiles.

“Hells yea! The world could do with more people who say “fuck you” to gender rolls!” He points to nothing as he continues, “And you read that right, readers! Rolls with two L’s wasn’t a typo, because gender rolls are the nastiest kind of bread. Yuck!”

The woman huffs a laugh then looks up from her ringing phone, tilting her head in sudden confusion, “Readers? Typo?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter cuts in, “It’s just a thing he does.” He doesn’t want to take the time to explain Wade’s weird habits of doing something called “breaking the fourth wall”, and how he addresses some things to readers and others to viewers or watchers and other to his two internal “boxes” named “Yellow” and “White”.

Peter hears the person on the other end finally pick up the phone and ask if something’s up. The woman asks them to go to a certain coffee shop to meet her instead of the fountain– wherever that could be in a place like this– to meet her. The other person immediately agrees. Peter is also mildly impressed and rather touched that they also asked for her to stay on the line until they meet instead of just hanging up in a rush like plenty of people seem to do. This person is definitely good for this lady.

They end up walking with the woman to the aforementioned coffee shop, and they chat a little with the person on the line while Peter keeps a very close ear out for anything odd that may need his assistance and pays close attention to his spidey-senses. They get a photo with one group of kids and their parents on the way, then a few more pictures once they meet up with Kasandra’s (they finally got the woman’s name) partner. After that, a group of teens on a triple date quickly came up for pictures and complimented their pride suits.

Peter’s spidey sense starts going off before the teens can say much else. With Deadpool quickly and securely latching onto his back, he climbs up a wall to safely swing away to the danger.

After that, it becomes a pretty normal day, as far as patrolling goes. Despite the fact that most of New York City knows that Spiderman and Deadpool patrol all day and night long on most holidays, the crime rate still rises on them. It makes Peter wonder just how many people they don’t get to whenever they patrol; how many people call out for them specifically when Peter is too far away to hear them or sense them being in danger?

He doesn’t want to know the answer to that, and Wade does his best to help Peter keep his brain from travelling down those dark paths once he figured out it made his depression and anxiety that much worse.

He honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without Wade. They’ve been together for so long that Peter can’t imagine a day where he’d be gone for good. Yeah, he still sometimes spends weeks or, very rarely, months away for some SHIELD job, but he always eventually comes back. He’s almost completely immune to his “Parker Luck” because he’s technically immune to death and injury. So the thought that one day Wade may leave and not come back because something between them just couldn’t be worked through?

It’s terrifying.

The thing about that last thought, though, is that Peter can’t imagine not being able to work things out with Wade. They always work things out. They’ve been living with each other for years now, so that was something they had to learn how to do a long while ago. Even their various friends agree that, as much as they banter like best friends, they also tend to argue and compromise over small things like an old, married couple. He and Wade never try to argue their observations either. Peter isn’t quite so sure about his other half, but he feels like they’re already a married couple. There’s just no rings or legal papers to make it official yet.

Yet.

He abruptly pauses at webbing a group of home intruders to the brick wall in front of him to watch Wade with wide eyes as the other chatters away, searching for a cell phone to call the police with so these guys can be picked up.

Wade’s self-esteem would probably never allow him to ask Peter to marry him, even though they’ve been dating for over six years now and living together for about the same length of time. Even if they had been dating for twelve or twenty years, he doubts Wade would be able to do it without backing out or panicking just because he’d probably feel like he was trapping Peter or something bizarre but sadly understandable like that, especially if his boxes are in a shitty mood that hnypothetical day.

He doesn’t doubt for a moment that Wade loves him deeply, even with all the shit they give each other. Hell, especially with all the shit they give each other. It means a hell of a lot when people can make fun of each other and poke at each other and can trust wholeheartedly that the other person knows that it means nothing or comes from a place of pure love, especially for people with backgrounds filled with anxiety like Peter and Wade.

It takes a lot of trust to open oneself up completely to another person, and Wade is the first person like that for Peter ever since he became Spiderman, and Peter hopes he’s close enough to being that person for Wade in return. It takes a lot of love and trust on both of their parts to deal with the somewhat common panic attacks, depression dips, and self-punishments and the less common hallucinations and serious depression dips and still stick around after all is said and done.

They’ve been together through thick and thin, through grave injuries and actual death (on Wade’s account, anyway). They’ve stuck together through sickness and loss, happiness and wealth (there was a few months where Wade was apparently secretly convinced that Peter would leave once he was no longer dirt poor, but that’s been proven wrong a hundred times over by now). They’ve been through everything the traditional wedding vows mention, and the “until death do us part” really only works on Peter, but his powers and trained skills don’t make him an easy target, either.

Peter knows what he wants to do, or rather, he’s just now realized what he’s been wanting for a long while. And now that he knows what’s missing, he’s going to take the first steps to get it. Wade took the first steps in starting their relationship, so it’s only fair that Peter takes the first step or two towards their marriage. Probable marriage, he corrects himself, because if there’s one thing he’s learned from being with Wade all these years, it’s that if something has even one percent chance of happening, it’s plenty of wiggle room for the ex-merc to do it. And Peter’s only 99 percent sure that he’ll say yes.

That just means he needs to make tomorrow the best National Half-Priced Candy Day yet.

“Spidey?” Wade snaps him out of his thoughts, sounding like that wasn’t the first time he called for him.

Peter shakes his head. “Sorry. Just got a bit carried away in my head I guess.”

Wade nods thoughtfully. Peter can practically see the concern dripping off of him. “You need a break? We’ve been at this for–” he checks the stranger’s phone still in his hand, “twelve hours now. Dang.” He pauses. “I know right? But you know what they say, time flies when you’re having fun, and I’m always having fun when our snookums is around!” Wade’s bright grin stretches the bright pink and blue fabric of his mask.

“I usually have fun when you’re around too, ‘Pool.” Peter grins and turns away. He hears a gasp behind him.

“Baaabe!!” he whines, “Only usually? You wound me! I am always fun, especially when–” He abruptly stops. When he doesn’t immediately respond to whatever his boxes are saying, Peter turns around.

Wade is looking at Peter with a strangely somber expression, one that’s obvious through his mask. Then he picks himself up in what Peter can now tell is false cheer.

“You know, Spidey, if you ever get tired of me–”

“Never gonna happen.” Peter walks towards Wade and puts his hands on his undoubtedly surprised face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, ya doof.” He pecks a kiss to his masked nose then pulls away. “Come on, then! We have more criminals to stop and people to save!”

Peter hesitates just long enough for Wade to jump on his back before taking off. As he swings them through the city, he starts thinking of a plan of action for tomorrow.

If there was any chance that he was wrong about Wade’s self esteem not letting him pop the question first, what the ex-merc just said squashed it, which means Peter will have to be the one to do it. He could go the easy way and go about their usual NHPC day and get down on one knee when they’re back at home (because for as much as Wade puts on an act of shamelessness and seems to constantly overshare, he’s strangely a rather private person), but he doesn’t particularly want to.

A quick look to the left mid-swing and he thinks he has the perfect thing.

His spidey-senses guide him to the right, so he follows. It doesn’t take very long at all for the pair to spot the dark smoke in the sky directly ahead of them. They make it there quickly, taking in the apartment building that is almost overrun by bright flames, the two fire trucks, and the group of firefighters on the street trying their best to evacuate people and put out the worst of the fire. Wade points out that the fire escape must either be engulfed by flames or has broken off or something because he can see a couple through a window on the top floor.

Without stopping to ask what happened or what’s needed of them– mainly because they’d probably say something that basically means “go away and mind your own business”– they enter the building through a window on the top floor (“Wade! You didn’t have to break it!” “The entire building is basically broken! It’s fine!”) since they both believe that, with the get up most of them are wearing, the firefighters are working on evacuating the people in the thick of the flames now and haven’t reached anyone in the higher floors.

Besides, the materials Peter and Wade use to make their respective suits aren’t exactly heat and flame resistant, so this is how they can be helpful.

Inside the building is, predictably, hot and smokey from the flames, and Peter knows it will get louder too as they reach the floors that are closer to the majority of the fire. They split up and work through the top floor first with Peter safely lowering two small families, two couples, and several animals down one or two at a time while Wade searches for any others and gathers them to their chosen window. Once Wade says it’s clear and the civilians are safe, they move downstairs to the next floor and set up the same system.

This floor is proven to be a bit more difficult when Wade comes back with two cats and informs Peter that their owner is a business man that recognized Deadpool as the mercenary he hasn’t been in a long while and accused him of setting the building on fire while simultaneously begging for his life. So Peter has to leave his post at the window and let Wade lower the few remaining people down while he goes and talks to the business man.

Peter easily finds the middle-aged man cowering in the corner and tries to calm him down. Although, it very quickly becomes apparent that he isn’t having any of it because “Anyone who works with Deadpool only thirsts for blood, and you will not have mine that easily!” Peter just huffs and picks him up like a potato sack, ignoring his shouting and struggling while he carries him to the window in his kitchen. Peter casts a new web and makes a quick harness, gets the man– who had stopped struggling real fast once he realized he was no longer inside– and lowers him down faster than he had for the others.

He meets up with Wade in the hallway, who apparently cleared the rest of the floor while Paranoid Man was causing a fuss, and they move down again. They hastily clear out most of the apartments on the third-to-top floor when Peter hears a shout and a gunshot from down the hallway. The only people there to lower the two small dogs he has on the line now are three siblings, the oldest being no older than 16 and the youngest no older than 10. Another gunshot forces Peter’s hand, though.

“Hey! Do you think you could lower these pups down while I go check that out?”

The oldest sibling, a girl with a pixie cut, ripped jeans, and a black sweatshirt, looks out the window and nods. She silently and shakily takes the webbing from him and starts to lower them. Peter doesn’t waste any time in sprinting down the hall to the last apartment where he last saw Wade disappear. Inside he finds a woman in her forties or fifties holding a gun to Wade’s unmoving body. Whether he’s dead or unconscious, he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t matter.

“Hey! What the hell, lady! We’re trying to help!” Peter stomps towards her.

“I’d rather die than be contaminated by freaks like you!”

His spidey-sense suddenly screams at him, and Peter jumps and rolls to the side just in time to dodge the bullet that would have hit his chest.

“What the fuck?!”

“Get out of my damn apartment!” she screams, pointing the gun at him again.

“Lady, there is literally a fire–”

“And I will not be saved by faggots like you!”

Oh… How fun… One of those people…

But she’s still a civilian, Peter reminds himself, and he really shouldn’t web her up in the corner of the room just because she’d rather die than accept help from someone who isn’t straight. No matter how much he kind of wants to right now. The fire probably won’t even reach this floor, anyway… But he still can’t.

“This is a matter of life and death for you, what the hell–” He jumps to the left to dodge another bullet.

“And I don’t fucking care!” She screams, “You can all go and burn in hell! But I won’t let myself be swayed by your cursed ways!” she shoots once more, and she should have only one shot left at most, if Peter’s counting right.

She doesn’t get to shoot again, though, because Deadpool comes up behind her and knocks her out.

“Do you know how close I was to killing her? Do you know how easy it’d still be to? God sometimes I wish I was still a mercenary. I mean, look at this! She got blood on my gay suit!” He complains, staring down at the woman disdainfully and poking at the single bullet wound in his chest.

Peter, instead of praising him for not killing her or explaining why they should keep her alive, just nods and jogs out of the apartment. He has other people he needs to save, afterall.

He pretends to not hear Wade’s gasp and sinister chuckle behind him.

He gets the siblings down, and Wade comes back with a dog and two cats in his arms, and the unconscious woman being dragged behind him by Wade’s new, golden whip (“Now I can be just like Wonder woman!” “Like who?” “Wonder Woman! She’s from the DC Universe and she’s my hero! Besides you, of course!” “Whatever you say, Wade…”). If anyone notices that he lowers the animals before he lowers the human, then they can deal with it. And if they notice that she has “BEWARE: HOMOPHOBIC ASSHOLE” written on her forehead in permanent marker, then it’s not his fault that he can’t control his boyfriend.

Looking out of the window this time, they realize that the fire has gone down quite a bit. Wade comes running back down the hallway– when did he even leave?– cheering that the fire escape was just covered in fire, but now it’s safe to walk on. Before Peter has the chance to ask if it was safe for civilians to walk on or just supers, Wade jumps in and clarifies that he pretty much cannon-balled onto it and it didn’t bend, and it was only pretty warm through his ruined suit, rather than very warm.

With that news (and after Peter tested it for himself), they waste no time in telling the other tenants they find to put thick shoes on and go down the fire escape. By the time they finish clearing the few people and animals left in the building, it’s pretty much dark out and some news stations are gathered around outside reporting what happened here for the nightly news.

“Excuse me, miss,” He hears Wade say to his right. He turns and finds him talking to a young police officer. “How did this fire start? And why’d it get so big?”

The young woman scowls a bit and opens her mouth to speak, but an older officer behind Peter interrupts her.

“Someone was trying to make a romantic dinner on the fourth floor and started an oil fire, then tried putting it out with water. It got so big because traffic was horrible today, and we just couldn’t make it here as quickly as we needed.” he smiles ruefully.

Peter turns to properly face the officer, “Do you know if anyone was seriously hurt?”

He shakes his head. “But we know that so far there haven’t been any deaths reported so far. Animal or human.”

Peter nods as Wade speaks. “Thank you, officer! We appreciate the work you do ‘round here, but we should get going!”

Peter takes his cue and starts walking towards the building across the street to climb up and swing off of.

“Hey,” the officer catches Peter and Wade’s attention, “I know a lot of other police officers don’t like you doing their job, but you’re doing some real good work out there. So thanks, Spiderman and Deadpool.”

Peter nods, not really knowing what else to do, while Wade openly gapes through his mask. He pulls the ex-merc towards him, and he immediately clings to Peter’s back. They’re gone pretty quickly after that.

“Babe! Baaabe!!” Wade shouts into his ear mid-swing, “That was amazing! We found someone who doesn’t hate us! And he thanked us!”

“I know!” He cheers back. It’s always nice to get some positive recognition.

Wade squeezes on to him tighter. “God, I’m so fucking glad I stopped murdering people.” He kisses the back of his neck through their suits. “I’m really glad I chose you. So happy... The happiest.” he continues quieter, more genuine.

If Peter didn’t know better, he would’ve thought he wasn’t supposed to hear that last part, that it was just meant for himself and his boxes. But, well, he does know better.

His brain decides to remind him of the ring he still has to buy by the end of tomorrow.

Peter’s spidey-senses start humming at the same time that Wade shouts that he saw a young man and a suspicious older woman in an alley shortcut. They easily stop the woman from assaulting the poor teen before she could try with the element of surprise on their side, then they escort him back to a more populated area where it should be safer. Both Peter’s and Wade’s stomachs growl at the scent of sandwiches, so they go in and order enough for an army before and climbing up to the nearest rooftop to take a very-much-needed food break. They sit down and start digging in.

Peter weighs the options of buying an engagement ring as Spiderman and risking outing his plans to everyone before he gets to properly propose to Wade, or somehow taking time out of their NHPC day plans (do nothing except go out to buy cheap candy together, cuddle, and munch on said candy) to buy a ring without being suspicious to the man whose job has always been finding people who don’t want to be found out.

“Hey Wade?”

Wade hums around his food and scoots more into Peter’s lap in lieu of a real response.

“I was thinking we could do something slightly different than usual tomorrow?” Peter leans a bit to the side to get a better view of Wade’s reaction. It isn’t a negative one, but it’s also not positive.

“Why? What’s up?” he asks once he swallows his food.

Peter shuffles a bit. “Well, I was thinking, since candy isn’t usually the only thing that’s half-priced tomorrow, we could maybe split up for, let’s say, an hour or two? Just to buy a cute present for each other or something–”

Wade’s excited gasp interrupts Peter. “Like those little stuffed animals that go right into clearance after Valentines? Or those super soft blankets and socks!” Wade squeals and waves his hands, flinging sandwich bits everywhere. “Petey-baby! You are brilliant! Like, I knew that already, but you’re just proving what we all already know! Even the boxes agree! Although, Yellow’s idea of a present is too close to Yandere simulator, but White thinks going down to Coney Island would be cool! But I don’t even think the rides are even open this early in the year. Besides! I just told you about it! So it isn’t a surprise anymore!” He points a finger high in the air and announces loudly, “Disqualified!”

Peter smiles as he absently listens to Wade go on and on about present-buying tomorrow. Now he just needs to find the perfect ring online and pick it up at the store. If he can’t find the perfect one on such short notice, he doubts Wade will mind if he got a unicorn plushie and a very soft blanket instead. The ring and proposal doesn’t have to be rushed, as much as Peter really wants it to be. How could he not, when his fiance would be a sarcastic asshole and secret sweetheart like Wade Winston Wilson?

Now the only important question left is, would it be Peter Wilson, Wade Parker, or Peter and Wade Wilson-Parker, or Parker-Wilson?

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

~> Next

•◊•◊•◊•◊•

#spideypool #peter parker x wade wilson #isn't it bromantic #spideypool valentine's day challenge 2020 #nirlan's spideypool fanfics #nirlan's marvel fanfics

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ghostofwriting · 6 years ago

Text

Untitled

Word Count: 3,755

Warnings: Okay so I don’t really know but probably light obsession? Is light stalking a thing? Not from the reader or towards the reader.

AN: So this is the thing I wrote that I don’t know what to call, what to do with or how to explain.

I figured I would just post it.

Tell me what you think.

She only has herself to blame. She loves him. She’s in love with him and it’s her own fault. She works for him, he’s her damn boss and she couldn’t stop herself from feeling things for him.

The worst part is that she has to watch him day in and day out with the person that he’s in love with.

It’s crazy how in tune she is with him, or at least she thinks she’s in tune with him.

She knows how in love he is because of the way he looks at y/n. It’s the same way she looks at him.

Y/n is oblivious to the way she brightens up his entire day when she walks into a room, or the way he’s always looking to find her in a crowd. He gravitates towards her and she to him but she doesn’t notice.

She loves him and she hates him but mostly she hates herself for falling in love with someone who could never love her back because she’s invisible and could never compete with his childhood best friend.

***

He kisses her in the early hours of one Saturday where they spent the whole night partying and getting drunk.

Right after he does he’s crying and sliding down a wall and holding his head in his hands, mumbling about how she’ll never love him.

He says something about her, not understanding, little does he know that she understands perfectly how unrequited love feels.

When they wake up it is midday and he’s apologizing profusely, talking about how unprofessional he was and how he hopes she’ll forgive him.

Of course, she will, she can never stay mad at him.

She finds out the reason he got drunk was because he had just found out the person he was in love with was taken.

She hides the smile trying to make an appearance and instead helps him nurse his hangover.

Maybe she does have a chance after all. Y/n had someone else and it’s his turn to have someone else.

So her plan starts on that cloudy Saturday.

Get Shawn to fall in love with her starts now.

***

She’s extra present whenever he needs her. She’s at his beck and call and that might sound desperate but that’s what love is right? It’s doing anything the person you love wants.

He’s really appreciative of her and he’s giving her more attention than he ever has and if anything, she falls more each time he gives her his crooked smile.

He’s trying to move on, has told her just as much, trying to forget the feelings he’s felt for his best friend for so many years and she hopes that he finally lets her go.

She knows it isn’t that easy though, if it was, she wouldn’t love him anymore.

Since she has the first-hand experience with trying to move on, she’ll be patient with him. She’ll be there whenever he has the urge to crawl back into the y/n spaced hole in his heart.

y/n isn’t around much, not since she got a boyfriend, it could also be because she’s busy with school but all in all, she hasn’t been around which gives her a chance to make herself part of his heart.

y/n is normal, y/n doesn’t understand his lifestyle, y/n deserves someone normal and he deserves someone who knows the ins and outs of the industry. Someone who can help him rise to the top.

She’ll always put him first and y/n can’t do that.

***

The days pass by and no one dares mention y/n when she’s around because she’ll always glare at them, they know not to upset him and her name does just that.

Whenever she finds him on her social media, she takes his phone and hides it, smiling at him when he groans sarcastically. She thinks he’s starting to feel something too.

She can’t win Brian over, it’s weird because everyone loves her, but she can’t seem to shake his glares like he’s in on something that she doesn’t even know.

When she walks into a room to talk to Shawn and Brian’s in there, he’ll huff and scoff, and glare. He’ll walk away from anywhere near her and wait until she’s gone to approach Shawn again.

She thinks he’s being childish for whatever reason but she doesn’t care, as long as his attitude doesn’t influence Shawn in any way.

***

She finds out that y/n breaks up with her boyfriend when Shawn storms into the green room and lifts her off her feet, kissing her cheek, all smiles, he’s glowing and she wants to know why.

“What! What is it?” She asks giggling as he puts her down.

“Y/n’s single! And she’s coming in three days.” He’s so happy he doesn’t even notice that he’s stabbed her in the heart. She thought that they were making progress, she thought that he at least thought of her as a potential romantic partner but y/n’s single and he forgets about her?

He’s laughing when Brian walks in the room, tackling his friend, the two men embracing. She doesn’t notice Brian’s glares, too busy being heartbroken.

“I’m gonna tell her,” Shawn says. She hears Brian say finally as she walks out of the room, the world spinning around her.

Doesn’t he know that this is a bad idea? That she’s just going to use him and break his heart? She isn’t good enough for him and she’s going to prove it.

She doesn’t know when she snaps, but she does and she thinks she’s right.

***

y/n being here is driving her insane, it’s her laugh and the way she talks and walks and exists.

The worst part is that y/n had never been anything but sweet to her. That made her hate her even more, someone couldn’t be that nice. She had to be hiding something, something that Shawn wouldn’t like and she was going to find out what.

And if she couldn't? She would make something up.

After all, she wasn’t above that, it was what was best for him. It was all for him.

***

She’s about to walk into the green room when he hears them talking, her heart stops and crumbles.

“I think I’ve always loved you, I’ve just been too afraid to admit it because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” It’s her sickeningly sweet voice confessing her feelings for her Shawn.

Who did she think she was? She broke his heart. She dated someone else and ignored him for months and she thinks she can come back and just claim him?

She wasn’t there on the drunken nights when he drank himself sick. She wasn’t there to see him cry over her. She wasn’t there to pick up the pieces and put him back together.

Shawn was smart, he would see right through her act and remember who was there for him this whole time.

When Shawn does the complete opposite of that and he tells her how long he’s been waiting for this, how much he loves her and how he can’t wait for whatever they do next, she’s shaking with rage.

He’s so dumb. So stupid, how could he be so blind? She doesn’t deserve him and he’s going to show him.

Brian pops up from behind her and smirks, she puts a fake smile on her face and walks away.

She had to find something.

***

“I’m going on a coffee run, does anyone want anything?” y/n’s standing in the middle of the room, eyeing everyone, the smile on her face could not be real.

Great, she’s been on tour with them for two months and she’s already trying to take her job.

What is it about her that makes everyone swoon? What did y/n have that she didn’t?

She watches Shawn watch her. He looks at her like she put the stars and the moon in the sky.

He watches her like she put the universe together and gifted it to him.

He watches him like he’s the earth and she’s the moon and they’re being pulled to each other.

He watches her like he lives and breathes for her and it makes her want to puke.

She’s watching him so she misses the way y/n looks at him.

Like he’s the sun and she shines for him and only him.

She also misses the way Brian notices the scowl on her face.

***

When y/n comes back with their drinks she’s hoping that the woman got something wrong, that she could point it out and somehow everyone would turn against her.

Obviously, that wouldn’t happen because it’s just some drink orders but she was hoping that Shawn would notice that she’s better at coffee runs than his girlfriend.

That word makes her sick.

When everyone leaves to watch Shawn perform, she stays behind to work. She was going to wait it out, wait until y/n went back to school at the end of the summer to create doubt in Shawn’s head about her, but it was getting too serious so she had to do something now.

She waits a few seconds before she’s running across the room towards y/n’s laptop.

Y/n hadn’t even logged out, she wasn’t even smart. She doesn’t know what Shawn sees in her at all.

She’s snooping trying to find something, anything that will incriminate her in Shawn’s eyes, and when she finds nothing she wants to scream.

Her phone goes off startling her, it’s a message from her mom asking her when she’ll come home and visit. She ignores it looking at the messaging icon. Perfect.

She clicks on the facebook icon on the laptop and it takes her right to y/n’s account. She’s giddy on the inside, she’s going to get him back. It’s for his own good.

She finds y/n’s ex's name and starts typing a message to him, not before revoking all access to Facebook from any mobile app. Just to buy her enough time without alerting y/n.

He’s luckily online and responds immediately.

She channels her inner y/n and her plan starts.

She’s about to send one more when she hears footsteps approaching.

She jumps to the couch and pulls out her phone, the laptop still glowing but off the facebook page. She hopes whoever it is doesn’t notice.

Brian walks in, eyeing her before grabbing a sweater that’s too small to be his. Just like that he’s gone.

She breathes a sigh of relief and waits until she can play out the second part of her plan.

***

“I have to show you something my mom sent me but it’s logged me out and I can’t remember my password so it’ll have to wait.” She hears the sugary sweet voice say.

Shawn nods and kisses the side of her head and then her cheek. The sight makes her shiver.

“I’ll be right back, Brian needed me for something.” She internally groans. Brian hated her. She knew that much by now, she didn’t know why. And it pissed her off to no end that he seemed to adore y/n. Yeah, they had been friends for a long time too, but wouldn’t you be happy for anyone your best friend dates? As long as your best friend was happy? She doesn’t think Brian will ever like her so she’ll have to get rid of him too.

First y/n, then Brian.

Shawn’s surfing on his phone when she plops beside him.

“Hey, stranger.” She shoves his shoulder with hers and he smiles, looking up at her.

“Hey, didn’t see you out there.” He had noticed she wasn’t there, had missed her.

“Had to get some work done.” She puts on a sad face, a look of concern growing on Shawn’s face.

“What’s wrong?” She sighs, looking down at her hands and looking back up at him regretfully.

“y/n’s computer kept going off and it was annoying me so I went over to shut it but-” she cuts herself off, putting her hand over his and swallowing the ball in her throat.

“I’m so sorry.” She sees fear creep into his expression and he shakes his head.

“Is she okay? What is it?” His voice is shaking and she suddenly doesn’t want to break his heart, but it’s what’s best for him.

For them.

“Shawn, she’s talking to her ex.” Shawn sighs and she sees the tension leave his body.

“Yeah, I know that they’re friends, they have to be, they’re in the same year and same program.” Of course, she was one to be friends with her exes, that perfect little angel.

“These messages weren’t about school. They were more seductive than that.”

“No, no way.” Shawn’s in disbelief.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.” He’s shaking his head and he can see the doubt building.

“They’re right over there. Go see for yourself.” He’s hesitating, and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to invade y/n’s privacy, so she pushes him.

“She’ll delete them before you can see that she’s cheating on you, why do you think she didn’t let you see the thing her mom sent herd? It was in case he sent her a message while you were using her phone.” That’s the push he needs to let the doubt win and walk over to y/n’s laptop.

She stays put in her spot and watches as he logs into her laptop that had gone into sleep mode, sees as he tenses and starts to shake with rage.

When he turns around, his eyes are dark, full of anger and sadness.

There’s silence for a few moments and she’s going to get up and comfort him when y/n walks in, Brian trailing behind her.

Shawn’s face morphs into something that breaks her heart when he sees y/n. He isn’t angry at her, he’s just devastated, he’s broken. She did that to him.

It’s for the best, she tells herself.

“Babe?” y/n walks over to him and reaches for his hand but he shakes her off.

“How could you?”

“How could I what?”

“You fucking know what!” Shawn screams, making her flinch. Y/n doesn’t bat an eyelash, her concern for him increasing.

“I really don’t.”

“I can’t wait to feel your lips all over my body.” Shawn recites one of the messages she typed out. y/n’s look of concern turns into confusion. She avoids eye contact with Brian and sinks deeper into the couch.

“I miss how you feel inside me.” Y/n’s whispering his name, trying to get through to him but he doesn’t listen, reciting more messages she had sent.

“I want it hard and fast.”

“Stop.” y/n says, her voice calm.

“No, you stop. Pack all your shit and get out.” y/n tries to speak but he doesn’t let her.

“Get the fuck out y/n! I never want to see you again.” She looks down when she sees the tears streaming down y/n’s face. When y/n doesn’t move, Shawn yells again, “Get out!”

Y/n moves past him, grabbing all her things and storming out of the room.

As soon as she leaves the room, she picks up her head and watches as Shawn crumbles. His knees crashing to the floor along with his hands.

Before she can go to him, Brian’s there, rubbing his back, trying to pick him up.

While Shawn’s crying, she’s there in shock.

This is what’s best. It’s for the best. It will get better. He will thank her.

***

“I know you’re behind this.” Brian is standing at the door frame, hands crossed over his chest, anger all over his face.

“What?” She sets her phone next to her, ready to play the part.

“Don’t play dumb. I see the way you look at him, at them, I know how you feel.” His voice is so certain of what he’s saying and it scares her that everyone else will believe him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I talked to y/n and she has no recollection of sending those messages.” Why couldn’t he just blindly follow Shawn and ignore y/n. Now she had to convince him too.

“She’s obviously lying.” Brian shakes his head clearly not believing a word she’s saying.

“I walked into that green room and the laptop wasn’t sleeping.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“A laptop doesn’t go to sleep after half an hour?” She moves her hand in a “so what” motion and Brian chuckles.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s a setting.” He’s not going to believe her, y/n has her claws too far into him.

“The only reason you’re getting away with this right now is that Shawn is too hurt to listen.”

“I’m not getting away with anything.”

“Not for long,” Brian says, slamming the door behind him. She glares at the closed door, her mind reeling.

Time to get rid of Brian.

***

She doesn’t even have time to get rid of Brian before Shawn is coming up to her, anger written all over his face and she’s already cowering before he’s in front of her.

“What the hell?” He screams. He’s so angry, he’s never seen him like this, never towards anyone and definitely not towards her.

“You know what? I don’t give a shit, pack your things, you’re fired, effective immediately.” His words shock her and she’s flying after him as he leaves.

“No! Shawn, please!” She’s gripping his arm pulling him towards her and he’s shaking her off.

“You have no place here, I don’t know who you think you are to mess with people like that but you need to leave.” He flings her off and security comes down the hallway as he starts walking away. She sees y/n standing next to Brian, her face not angry but sad.

“I love you!” She yells after Shawn.

“You don’t do what you did to me to people you love.” He turns around to look at her, a shadow cast over his face before turning back around and walking towards y/n and Brian.

She can’t break through to him, she knows that now, not when his heart belongs so completely to someone else. She should have realized earlier, her heart belonged to him and no one could break through that. She’s pulled away, her eyes not leaving his frame and the way his hands look for hers in comfort.

***

She’s packing her things when there’s a knock at the door and it opens right after before she can respond.

When she turns around, y/n is standing there. She stares at the woman, her hair framing her face perfectly. She has no makeup on, has bags under her eyes and is wearing sweats and a hoodie and she is still one of the most beautiful people she has ever laid eyes on.

She never wanted to admit it, but she always knew y/n was beautiful, tried to convince herself that that is why Shawn loved her so much.

Y/n isn’t alone, Jake is standing right behind her. He’s there too, she sees him peak his head in when y/n steps closer to enter the room, sees as his hand reaches out to pull at her sleeve so she doesn’t walk further into the room before stepping off to the side.

They’re probably scared they’ll hurt y/n. She would never, not like that, not in the way they’re thinking.

She’s glad she can’t see Shawn anymore, can’t bear to see the pure loathing on his face.

“Hi.” She wants to hate y/n more, the way she greets her with no animosity, just genuine concern.

“Hello.” She says softly. She can’t hate her though, not anymore, she’s exhausted.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing?” She wants to cry. How could she have ever wanted anything better for Shawn? Anything better than someone who cares about everyone, even someone who tried to ruin her relationship.

“Humiliated, ashamed, guilty, sorry.” Y/n gives her a gentle smile.

“It’s okay.” y/n was really here telling her that everything she had done was okay?

“How?”

“Feeling all that means that you learned something from all this.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you. It’s your turn to forgive yourself.” How could someone be so freaking special? How could someone be so understanding and nice? She knows what Shawn sees in her now, imagine having this energy in your life for your whole life? Of course, he couldn’t resist.

“Thank you.”

y/n goes to move closer and two hands jump out to stop her. One of Jake’s is gripping her shoulder, and Shawn is once again pulling her from her hoodie, this time from her back.

“No.” he whispers from the door.

y/n turns to both men squeezes Shawn’s hand and nods.

“I’m fine.” When she steps into the room, Shawn comes into full view, Jake is quick to follow y/n into the room, standing behind her once more.

y/n stretches her arms out and waits for her to come closer before wrapping her up in a hug.

She really does feel forgiven, at least from y/n because when she looks behind her, she catches Shawn’s eyes and the worry in them. The worry that his whole world is in the arms of a crazy person.

She can’t blame him. She would be scared too.

y/n pulls away, one hand on each shoulder and squeezes.

“Now you get to go out there and do better.” Is the last thing y/n says before she’s walking back to Shawn, the tension leaving his body once she’s back in his arms.

He doesn’t even look back at her and she’s okay with it.

She sees it now, sees it completely. They are meant for each other. They have been sculpted by the gods and put on this earth to be with one another and she can’t come in the way of that. She won’t. No one could.

To him, she’s the sun and he orbits around her and to her he’s the sun and she orbits around him. They are equal. They’re soulmates.

She needs to go out there and learn from this and find her own soulmate.

#untitled

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mikami · 6 years ago

Text

Death Note Audio Drama 02

Disk 2: Collateral Damage - a summary / partial translation

Disk 1 and an attempted explanation of What This Is are here.

This episode also isn’t particularly wild as far as plot diversion goes, but it changes a key element of how Death Note manipulation works and.... introduces a whole lot of Matsuda trivia, somehow. We also say hi and bye to Naomi.

___________________

We begin with Naomi tracking down the bus driver of the busjacking. The driver is really annoyed that people keep tracking him down to ask him about it. Naomi asks about Raye. (Her vacation pic is from Honolulu in this version). Naomi presses the driver to tell her as much as he remembers about the other passengers.

_____

TITLE MUSIC PLAYS

_____

We’re back in time. Light is trying to think about how to get Raye Penber’s name. His dad’s computer has no notes about it. Light deduces that his dad doesn’t even know about the tailing. Ryuk brings up the eye deal.

RYUK: I can offer you the eyes of a shinigami.

LIGHT: U-uh, you mean a real pair of eyes? That’s disgusting!!

RYUK (amused): No, I just mean the power of those eyes.

The lifespan halving gets brought up and Light just goes “uhm... no thanks”, literally.

LIGHT: Are there any more surprises? Some kind of bonus point system? Fine print?

RYUK: Uuuuuhm, can’t think of anything much right now.

LIGHT: You could have written it into the Death Note, alongside the other rules. I don’t like to be led by the nose, I’m not your goddamn----

RYUK: ... what?

LIGHT: I am not your puppet.... But I can get one for myself.

RYUK: I don’t get it.

LIGHT: I know now, how to get my pursuer’s name. And that’s without making any kind of contract with you.

_______

A TV transmission. An attorney has issued a lawsuit against prisons for the way prisoners die. His client died of heart attack after writing a pentagram in his own blood. He was close to being pardoned. The lawyer says that the government has a duty to ensure safety of the prisoners, no matter what they are in for.

_______

L and Soichiro discuss the murder and other abnormal murders like it. They have Soichiro be the one to discover the “L did you know” message, oddly. But they don’t really detail how it is coded, so it might have just literally been written down word by word in this version. L tells Soichiro to not tell anyone about this, not even his team. Soichiro immediately says he’ll only keep it in her personal data files.......

_______

RYUK: Are you really sure you should snoop around your dad’s office like this?

LIGHT: If you want a useful way to keep your eyes busy, why don’t you keep watch?

RYUK: I am not your partner. Oh, an apple. [eats]

LIGHT: Luckily, I can do just fine without your help. A-ha! Interpol listed them all!

RYUK: All your extremely dramatic deaths?

LIGHT: More or less. Seems like not all I wrote into the notebook actually happened.

They go over the stipulations of manipulation needing to be physically doable for the victim.

LIGHT: And now I just need... a catalyst.

_______

News transmission. A news entry about the killer of the Amane parents having died. Channel switch. A Christmas-themed advertisement for Space Land. Channel Switch. A news feature about Kiichiro Osoreda and his failed bank robbing.

______

Light meets Yuri and Yuri’s dialogue is kept pretty accurate to the manga, which is something that I found really disappointing actually. Light’s and Ryuk’s dialogue here is also very close to the original.

Raye Penber complains that he’d like to do real policework at some point again, otherwise he acts the same as in the manga here.

The whole busjacking is just really manga-close. But when Raye says he’s police undercover...

LIGHT: Oh, really? And how do I know you’re not in cahoots with this madman?

PENBER: And who are you? A detective?

YURI: His dad is a detective, that’s why he’s so smart.

LIGHT: Do you have ID? Otherwise I’ll have to deal with you first.

PENBER: Of course! Here.

LIGHT: Raye Penber... FBI? What is the FBI doing on a bus to Space Land?

PENBER: This isn’t really the time for that, boy.

LIGHT: Alright, cowboy, then toss your lasso already.

I cannot overstate that he literally says this. Word by word. After that, the scene returns to its canon version. The bizarre thing is that Ryuk explains the plan out loud, including telling Light’s name to Otoharada. Of course, Otoharada is brainwashed and acting according to script, but still weird.

_______

News transmission. The busjacking gets described. Light turns the news off and shows the Death Note entry to Ryuk, who reads it out loud.

______

We hear a New Year’s countdown.

WATARI: What in Hercules’ name was that?

INTERPOL REP (still clinking champagne glasses): It’s the time difference, Mr. Watari! It’s midnight, here in the USA.

WATARI: Oh... I am so very sorry. I must have lost my overview.

INTERPOL REP: Forget about it. Just a moment.

She leaves the party room. She informs Watari of the deceased FBI agents. It happened three days ago, but she only got the report now, thanks to the holiday crunch. She now refuses to involve the FBI further.

______

Soichiro calls L. He’s pissed about L involving the FBI, now that he’s heard.

______

Back with Watari and the Interpol Rep (her name is Paula Virilio and she’ll be referred to as Virilio in the future) are still talking about the matter. She tells Watari that on Dec 28th all the agents asked about names and photos of their coworkers, so she gave the first four the file and asked them to pass it further.

______

Soichiro is really mad about Virilio’s miss-step too. L and Soichiro work out that they need to know who sent the first email about the files. The phone call ends.

The Task Force is really mad about L still not taking the same risks as them. They actually seriously consider L being Kira for a moment.

______

The Task Force enter the hotel L is staying in. Pardon me for sometimes just saying ‘someone’ as the speaker, I find the Task Force really hard to tell about and without context cues I am often lost.

MATSUDA: A whole hotel suite? How do you earn the money for this stuff?

L: By being smarter than everyone else, Detective Matsuda.

MATSUDA: You are... [He corrects himself from the formal ‘you’ used to address adults to informal ‘you’ here] You are L....?

L: The one. Please sit down, gentlemen.

MATSUDA: He’s still a child...

L (laughs): I am old enough to vote, Mr. Matsuda. Old enough to carry a weapon, to marry, to fall in love... and to catch a murderer. And you are Chief Inspector Yagami. I also know you from TV.

SOICHIRO: Yes, here’s my ID, for protocol. This is Matsuda, as you know. Detectives Aizawa, Ukita, Mogi...

L: A group of dead men.

SOICHIRO: Excuse me, what?

L: If I really was Kira, you’d all be dead now.

MATSUDA: How can we know that, boy?

L: Because you are not dead, detective.

MATSUDA: We call that kind of thing circular logic.

L: I call someone like you an idiot.

MATSUDA: I don’t need to listen to this from a civilian, you little shitty---

SOICHIRO (softly): Matsuda.

L: You name is Touta Matsuda. Graduated from Kumamoto University. Passion for sports cars and every Thursday, you go to the cinema. Big drama. Not in a relationship right now, but in pining hope for something complicated with Noriko Takai. Hm. A very concerning sympathy for both [???? I DONT KNOW THE WORD] as well as country music. Loves Korean cuisine, but....

SOMEONE: He’s got your number, Matsuda.

MATSUDA: So what? You all can easily figure out the same from social media.

L: Yeah, that’s what I can do. Everything. About you, and your sister, and your stupid aunt who doesn’t know how to properly set the privacy settings of her account. I know where you live, you tool--

SOICHIRO: I think we got it, L.

L: Really? Kira plays this game to win. I agreed to meet you, because you were all getting nervous about working with an anonymous specialist, so I am here. To get my hands as dirty as yours. But really, is this necessary...?

SOICHIRO: What do you want, L?

L: I want you to take this seriously.

SOMEONE: In the face of 12 dead agents, matters are serious enough, I think.

L: Correct, so you take care to not become number 13. All of you have to disappear. Get off social media, get new email accounts. If you address the public or the press, you will introduce yourself with these names. You are not going to tell anyone your real names. That’s exactly why I am still alive.

And this is how we get the fake IDs.

_____

Naomi at the NPA. The receptionist refuses to let her speak to anybody from the Task Force. Light steps in, to hand in the spare clothes for his dad. His dialogue with Naomi is similar to the manga, but audio drama Light’s insistence and volunteering of excessively much info he shouldn’t have.... it makes me laugh.

LIGHT: And you are looking for my father?

NAOMI: Uh, yeah, I--

LIGHT: I can tell you’re up to speed, miss. You’re definitely correct to not just tell your matter to the next best person. Especially after those FBI murders. We’re all suspects, am I right?

NAOMI: U-uh, I didn’t say that---

LIGHT: If you’d like, I’d gladly get you in contact with my father. I’ll get through to him, even if he usually rejects calls.

RYUK: Take the bait, missy, take it...

NAOMI: Would that be alright, u-uh, Light?

RYUK: Aaand, bullseye!

LIGHT: Why don’t we take this conversation somewhere else?

RYUK: There’s just too many video cams here.

LIGHT: As long as we don’t know how Kira kills his victims, I’d suggest a less public place.

_______

LIGHT: Okay, where were we? My name is Yagami. Light Yagami.

NAOMI: Shouko Maki.

RYUK: And my name is Ryuk, but you’re not actually able to see or hear me.

LIGHT: I think Kira is capable of more than simply killing people. It seems as if he could influence their actions before their deaths.

NAOMI: I think the same. And here I thought I was alone with it. Yes, he can control people before he kills them. But that’s not all. He can also kill them through other means than heart attacks.

RYUK: Who is this little snooper?

LIGHT: Should that be the case, we might be facing even more murders than thought. There are cases that haven’t been considered in connection to Kira yet.

NAOMI: Exactly. Those might be cases Kira hoped would stay secret. I am fairly sure that someone... someone I know... has met Kira.

LIGHT: Hah. It might be hard to get someone to believe this statement.

NAOMI: That’s why I came in person to explain the circumstances of the case.

LIGHT: Wouldn’t it be even more convincing if your friend told his own story?

NAOMI: He can’t. He was one of the murdered agents.

RYUK: Oh, now it’s getting interesting.

NAOMI: He was my fiancé. He told me that he got involved in this busjacking. By now, I assume that Kira was on that bus as well.

RYUK: She’s talking about Raye Penber, wow.

NAOMI: Something wrong?

LIGHT: Why are you assuming that Kira was on the bus?

NAOMI: Name and face of the culprit were on the media day by day. He was on the run after a totally miscalculated bank robbing. And then, 8 days later, shortly after Christmas... My fiancé dies. Together with his 11 colleagues.

LIGHT: The connection seems vague to me.

RYUK: What he wants to say is.... perfect match.

NAOMI: Something must have happened there. I think that my fiancé and the culprit were used by Kira to get to the other 11 agents.

LIGHT: The culprit was hit by a car, it wasn’t a heart attack. This is how you got to the conclusion that Kira can control actions?

NAOMI: Yes.

LIGHT: That seems pretty far fetched.

RYUK: It really isn’t, lady.

NAOMI: Even the first time I heard of the busjacking, the circumstances seemed strange to me. I kept asking my fiancé questions, I basically interrogated him to tell me the story again and again.

LIGHT: And... what was his story?

______

We flash back to Naomi and Raye talking. Both of their voices are tense.

RAYE: Yes, I showed my ID to one of the passengers, okay?! Are you happy now?

NAOMI: You shouldn’t have done that!

RAYE: I know that! It was complicated. The guy wouldn’t have cooperated without me proving that I’m a cop.

NAOMI: You were undercover, Raye!

RAYE: Stop that! You weren’t there.

NAOMI: You had explicit order to not blow your cover.

RAYE: And you are the only person who knows I have done that. If you don’t tell anybody, nobody will ever know.

NAOMI: But I am not the only one. Isn’t that right? We still don’t know how Kira finds and executes his victims. You can’t afford even a single misstep.

RAYE: You’d probably prefer he’d shot all the passengers then.

NAOMI: Ugh, Raye, that’s not the point---

RAYE (hitting the table): Of course that is exactly the point!!

______

LIGHT: This whole situation isn’t free of emotions.

NAOMI: So?

LIGHT: I just want to make sure your feelings aren’t influencing your analysis skills.

RYUK: Which are working quite excellently.

NAOMI: Hey, you. I was a special agent with several decorations before I gave up my career to marry Raye. I’m not just some random brat.

LIGHT: I agree with you, the suspicion warrants a closer inspection.

They keep talking, Light himself brings out the deduction that the person Raye identified himself to was Kira.

______

We’re with Ukita on phone duty. Someone who thinks they are Kira is calling. Ukita is already pretty annoyed, even before the guy talks of other hallucinations. He hangs up quickly.

_______

SOICHIRO: is it important?

MATSUDA: No, boss. Ukita is just whining again. He doesn’t want to be on phone duty anymore. He texted: “When do I get a hotel suite with 24/7 room service?”

SOMEONE: Does he think we’re just chilling here?

SOMEONE: Probably. Uhm, do you want the final shrimp?

SOMEONE: Take it.

They then move on to talk about surveillance footage of the FBI agent deaths. They have footage from 3 deaths, one of them is Raye Penber. They have the most material on him. They realize he’s done more than a full round on the Yamanote line. They also notice him having an envelope that disappears. They conclude Kira was on the train, receiving it.

______

Light makes his first attempt to kill Naomi, same cause of death as in the manga. Naomi wants to go back to the NPA building now. Light comes with her, as he notices she isn’t dying.

_____

Ukita on the phone again. Akiko Misora is calling about her daughter Naomi being misses. Ukita is pretty annoyed (”Oh really? Was she kidnapped by aliens or something?”). Akiko explains that Naomi came to Japan with her fiancé, but he died and shortly after Naomi also fell out of contact. Akiko complains about how much paperwork getting the ashes to the US was, and says how charming Raye was and how good his Japanese was...... Ukita wants to get rid of her, until Akiko tells him Raye’s name.

____

The Task Force discusses Naomi’s existence and disappearance. She left her hotel at Dec. 29th and has been missing since. They all suspect that Naomi, being an ex-agent, has started her own investigation. But they also worry someone found her.

_____

Light explains to Naomi that the Kira team doesn’t meet with people on principle, because of the risk. He calls them ‘us’ and Naomi picks up on it, leading Light to explain he is a member of the task force. (Ryuk: “And if you believed that one, you might as well buy a fake Rolex of him now.”) Light invites Naomi to the team, like in the manga. Naomi does a lot of nervous laughing in this scene, but she does give him her real ID.

______

The task force think about Naomi, and her existence in connection to Raye being the first one to send an email to Virilio. They decide to place cameras and bugs in the houses of those who were investigated by Raye. It’s the families of Kitamura and Yagami.

______

Light writes Naomi’s name down again, this time her real one. They walk together some more. Light points out that Naomi doesn’t just want to investigate but also to hear the full story about Raye’s death.

NAOMI: I already knew on the day of that something was wrong. Raye was acting really strangely. He got up and left, without a word. He even forgot his cellphone.

LIGHT: Oh, is that unusual?

NAOMI: I followed him downstairs. He was at the reception and made them print something for him. I gave his phone to him, but he said nothing at all. He was so.. empty.

LIGHT: Distracted?

NAOMI: ... empty. Not a smile, not a kiss. He took the phone and left. At the time I still thought ‘well, maybe an order’. Next thing you know, the police arrives at the hotel. Asked me to come with them... identify the body. I have no idea what happened in the final hours of his life.

LIGHT: I do. I know the details of Raye Penber’s death down to the very last second.

NAOMI: I haven’t even told you his full name yet...

LIGHT: He entered the station via the west entrance. Past the street musician who always plays there. He passed the ticket entrance at 11 past 3. He went down to the Yamanote line, in the direction of Kanda.

NAOMI: I don’t understand... That’s only too stations if you directly take the Chuo line. Why this giant detour?

LIGHT: Because someone was waiting for him. The Yamanote line is the perfect place for a meeting. It has stops everywhere and nowhere.

_____

We launch into a flashback to the Yamanote line. Light walks up to Raye and greets him, but Raye does not answer him. Light introduces himself at more depth, even using his full name and calling himself Kira right after. Raye continues to not answer. Ryuk realizes that Raye cannot answer because that is how Light has written it down. Light keeps chatting, explaining his plan to Raye. On the train, he makes Raye watch as he writes the names of all his colleagues. He also touches Raye with the notebook, to let him see Ryuk. Raye can’t do anything.

____

LIGHT: Well, Naomi, I’m afraid Raye was just sitting there. His eyes widened a little. Panicked, you know?

RYUK: Yes, panic just about cuts it. Just like the face you are making right now, darling.

LIGHT: But he couldn’t move. Just like you right now. I was quite precise with my orders, you see?

Light continues to explain that he needed the names of the other agents and that he can do anything to people whose names he has.

_____

The task force discusses the family surveillance further. Light says the chance of Kira being among those people is 5%, but this is their only lead. Soichiro tells L to be thorough with his surveillance, like in the manga.

_____

LIGHT: All Raye could do was sit there until the time was ripe. And then get up...

RYUK: Without a word, Naomi. Silent like a fish.

LIGHT: And he left the train at Kanda station.

RYUK: And then he died.

LIGHT: Right on the platform, so to say.

RYUK: He extended his hand like in a bad movie. As if he wanted to say ‘I am cursing you’ or something.

LIGHT: And thus, Raye Penber died. I find it regrettable.

RYUK: Because he wasn’t a murderer. Which you also aren’t, Naomi. Just wrong place, wrong time... Collateral damage.

LIGHT: But I think you understand, Naomi, that I can’t leave you alive, if I want to keep working. I know you want to move, to hit me. I know that you wish above all else to take the gun out of your pocket. But none of that will happen, because I already put your final moments into motion. And that means I’m the one who’s in power here.

Ryuk asks what she’ll do. Light explains that he wrote the same conditions as on the first try, about her suicide.

LIGHT: So Naomi, I think you know what to do. Now go.

RYUK: And there she went. A woman with a mission.

LIGHT: Hey, Naomi! Want me to call my dad? Still want to talk to him, tell him everything you learned today? Hm? .... and she just keeps walking.

RYUK: She didn’t even say goodbye. I hope it was worth it. This new direction you’ve taken, it’s going to change everything.

LIGHT: What new direction?

RYUK: Now you’re no longer simply a criminal. You’re a police killer.

#death note #light yagami #l lawliet #naomi misora #touta matsuda #audio drama translations

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