#and dark themes CAN be such a helpful and safe way to process bad experiences and feelings or take back some control

[aris-ink]

I'm going to post the next drabble request while I continue working on others because it was the first one I got and it's almost finished.

Please mind yourself and the warnings because it's explicit and pretty violent. (so ofc it's with Jungkook 👁️👁️)

This is why I am not using my general tag list for these. It's not a theme I haven't written before, and it was just an ordinary request to me, but I am making this post because I've noticed this is such a misunderstood and sensitive topic among people. It's the wording in the request itself that could be surprising and generally I have not seen great reactions to the phrase that was used. Even though I do find it a little bit odd since again this is nothing I haven't written before and there seemed to be no issue with my other fics on this, so there shouldn't be any now just because the phrasing wasn't gentle.

I really want to stop explaining myself and apologizing for the content I post, especially to followers and mutuals because I would like to think you know me by now and you also know what's here already, the content is dark, there are warnings everywhere. So I don't have much else to say on the matter ❤️

I did write a small note at the beginning explaining why I have accepted the request. I wasn't going to, but I refuse to have any readers attacked or made to feel bad for their requests, and this has happened before, along with my ask box getting filled with some pretty awful anons. Fictional stories — as well as the parts of ourselves we struggle with or keep a secret — aren't reflections of whether we are good people or not or of our moral compass and I hate that I even have to say this or make this into a big deal when again, to me it was just an ordinary request. It's how we treat others that matters and says everything about us. But 🤷‍♀️

❤️❤️❤️

[norraexploradora]

The Tragedy of the CX Troopers and the Missed Opportunity to Teach Us All an Important Lesson

A deeper look into how the CX-Troopers were handled in the Bad Batch and the narrative surrounding them that unfortunately got dropped in season 3

I want to start off by applauding the Bad Batch for the brave attempt to tackle dark topics throughout the series and presenting them in a way that is appropriate for families to watch and discuss with their children. Most of series is successful in being just dark enough to raise tension but to also keep things suitable for a child’s first glimpse into the harsh realities of life. However there still a few places that missed the mark.

The one I wish to cover today is the inconsistent narrative surrounding the CX-Troopers. I’m not here to say it was bad writing per se, but if a dark topic is discussed in a family oriented tv series, it is best to commit adequate time to truly flesh it out so the messaging is clear. Subjective is great in a mature series like Andor, but kids lack the life experience required to read between the lines.

And yes, exposition does make dialogue sound clunky at times, but there is a reason why most cartoons in the 80s had the kind of “The more you know” lesson after each episode. The Bad Batch was no different. Tech’s speech in the Crossing and his encouragement to Omega at the end of Retrieval are perfect examples of this.

In my opinion, there was an opportunity for an important lesson to be learned from the CX Troopers that was brought up but left unfinished. These shadow operatives could have been a way to show the viewer how anyone can be “brainwashed” either by force or by clever manipulation.

One operative in season 2 called himself a “Believer” which seems to evoke he was forcibly submerged into a cult-like indoctrination. It’s also why I prefer to use the phrase “coercive persuasion” or “forced persuasion” instead of brainwashing as they are a more accurate description of the process that has been historically implemented by governments, cults, and captors in order to make good people believe in or do horrible things.

Dr. Hemlock’s use of forced persuasion on select clones to turn them into CX-Troopers is a interesting look into the real world and well-documented cases of brainwashing within fascist regimes; especially in wartime settings. It is common and disturbing tactic implemented in moments of great despair and something that deserves more focus within the narrative if it is to be brought up as a major plot point.

Most of the brainwashing aspects in the Bad Batch were rapidly glossed over probably due to time and budget constraints, and not so much by the dark and disturbing imagery. One can easily get the “idea across” without showing it explicitly. (Like Crosshair having his hand chopped off. We didn’t see it but yeah, we get the gist).

I will say however, that despite the mystery surrounding brainwashing in the CX-Program, one of the more poignant moments was Captain Rex telling a caught CX Trooper that he was still their brother and that they would help him. It was a beautiful show of compassion and introduced new plot element; that the soldiers who undergo forced persuasion could possibly be reached or even saved.

It’s not a stretch to believe that the Bad Batch would take this route given the series had built up “we don’t leave our own behind” as one of the main themes. It would also be safe to say that saving fictional heroes from brainwashing gives us hope that real life survivors can recover from such trauma.

It was one of the many reasons fans were led to believe that the mysterious CX-2 operative could have been Tech or Cody. The focus on this particular shadow operative gave rise to speculation that he was different, that there was something coming to shed light or hope that a lost soldier could be found and rescued; something that would make sense of it were a character we already cared greatly about.

Alas, CX-2 was kept a mystery box that gave no insight to the tragic nature of his existence nor gave us a reason to mourn his death. That is why the battle between the Bad Batch and Hemlock’s Batch of secret operatives felt rushed and incomplete to some viewers. There wasn’t proper time for the story to breathe beyond “One Batch is good, the other Batch is bad.”

There were simply too many dropped narratives throughout the final season that reduced the whole CX Trooper plot to a video game-esque final boss battle. Don’t get me wrong, it was an amazing fight, beautifully animated, terrifying, and intense; but nevertheless, it felt hollow because the build-up went nowhere.

At that’s exactly where the narrative around the tragic nature of brainwashing got lost.

It’s important for you to know that I’m not saying the Bad Batch killing these operatives in the final fight was wrong. I’m also not saying that they should have tried to reach out to save these Shadow Operatives in the middle of of a life and death situation. It’s just unfortunate that we were never given a reason to feel anything other than relief that the CX-Troopers were killed.

And yes, this is a show about the Bad Batch and not brainwashed mystery troopers, but I stress, the writing set up these characters and introduced a very dark and disturbing concept to young viewers. With more time and effort spent on the narrative, it could have been an important lesson that applies to real life.

Coercive Persuasion is not a fantasy concept. It is very very real. Sleep deprivation, isolation, abuse, constant interrogation, drugging, shame, and humiliation, are all various means to break down a person’s will and forcibly persuade them into believing anything.

One can simply look to how many people get forced into false confessions by unethical police practices, or those who end up committing atrocities due to cult leader manipulation. A more common and less obvious example is social media outlets designed to spin conspiracy theories; coercing people into believing anything they want, like like the Earth is flat and microchips were put in Covid vaccines. By preying upon people’s anger and fear, these sites cultivate distrust and can lead one to extremist thinking.

This is real world, dark and scary stuff that needs to be handled with serious care and consideration of bringing it into an animated Star Wars series.

So given more time and budget, how could this lesson be shown through the story of the Bad Batch? How could these brainwashed operatives been presented in a way to that is scary but still gives younger audiences a way to sympathize with them?

Shedding more light on a terrifying process would remind us the CX-Troopers are victims and despite their terrifying nature, they still deserve our compassion and empathy. So giving the operatives more of a backstory is a good start.

For Example:

Showing the transformation of at least one of these operatives before the final battle would provide more emotional impact after their demise. Having kids clearly, and not subjectively, understand that under those cool costumes there used to be good men is such an important lesson. It reinforces the narrative that the real villains aren’t these soldiers but the regime that warped their minds and forced them into mindless monsters.

To be clear, this a a family series and I am in no way implying that a clear visual of lengthy torture would be acceptable. There are already hints through Crosshair’s PTSD and that is enough to get the idea across.

My suggestion would have been to place the sniper clone who eventually became CX-2 in the cell next to Crosshair while on Tantis. The viewer gradually sees these two men go back and forth to their cells after these conditioning sessions and the witness bond that forms between them. Crosshair is forced to see CX-2’s identity slip more and more away after each session until he is no longer the person he once was. The sadness and loss of seeing this man lose his identity not only leaves a mark on Crosshair, but by the viewer as well.

The scene of the shadow operative watching Crosshair on Tantiss and the one shadow operative calling him “brother” would have made more sense in retrospect. In addition, having an emotional and clear connection between Crosshair and the man who became CX-2, would have given their epic fight on top of the waterfall more emotional weight. CX-2’s line “You could have been one of us. You made the wrong choice” would be more resonant to the viewer. CX-2 would literally be a sniper shadow operative that Crosshair could have become verses a subjective mystery box.

To further this narrative and Crosshair’s character arc, making the above change to the story could have also opened the door to Crosshair eventually saving this lost brother. Omega’s determination to never give up on Crosshair could have resulted in Crosshair reaching out to CX-2 and eventually getting through to him before the final battle. It would have been so emotional and fulfilling.

And yet…as lovely as that would have been, I realize the above scenario would require at least one additional episode; which the animation team probably didn’t have the luxury or the budget to do. So I’ll offer another solution:

Adding a few minutes here and there during season 2 and the beginning of season 3 dedicated to Hemlock’s treatment to the CX-Troopers and other Clone prisoners would give the viewer a clearer picture into the nature of the CX Program. The result would be that the feeling of triumph wouldn’t be seeing the shadow operatives lying dead on the floor but knowing that the experimentation on the clones at Tantiss by Dr. Hemlock was finally over.

So in conclusion:

It’s a shame that the shadow operatives were left a mystery and simply became foils and metaphors. The fight at the end was nothing more than the Batch having to kill or be killed and it failed to showcase a serious topic with less black and white thinking.

With more time, the writers could have explored the tragedy of forced coercion. Discussing a difficult subject in a manner fit for young audiences could leave them with awareness when they are faced with a similar real world scenario.

The CX-Trooper plot could have also been a good way for a parent to discuss what coercive persuasion does to people; especially in today’s world where social media is rife with bad people luring in youth and manipulating their anger and fear into extremist thinking.

Think about it.

How does someone get so isolated that they fall prey to extremism and they end up committing acts of terrorism? How does one get indoctrinated into a cult and become so brainwashed that they take their own lives or the lives of others at the behest of a cult leader? How would an innocent person sign a confession of a crime they didn’t commit?

These are all good questions that people often ask after horrendous real life events and can regularly be seen on the daily news and social media. Having a fictional metaphor for scary real world issues that children could easily understand would be exactly the kind of thing Star Wars was created for. It was also created to give children and all of us hope.

So in the end, the lesson should have been that people who fall victim to brainwashing aren’t weak or gullible. They have been put through extreme duress and put through unethical means of isolation and manipulation.

And if there is hope for even one of the CX-Troopers to be saved, we as a society should have empathy and try to reach out to those in our own lives who have been a victim of coercive persuasion before writing them off.

Disclaimer:

One thing I’ve learned in life is that platforms like Twitter are not places for deep discussions and good faith arguments. You have a set number of letters to get your ideas across and interpreting the meaning or tone always leads to misunderstandings.

That is why I’m coming to to Tumblr to discuss my deep dives into season 3 of the Bad Batch. I am the type of person who doesn’t like angry, confrontational sparring over ideas.

My goal is to shed light on a different perspective; not to make anyone agree with me, but just to understand that we can all watch the same show and interpret things differently due to our own life experiences. By explaining my viewpoints, I’m showing you into my thought process. You are certainly free to disagree but I’m not trying to change your feelings on the matter, nor do I wish for anyone to forcibly change mine.

We can all exist in the same space and I encourage anyone who has a different view to write an analysis of their own instead of arguing in anyone’s comment section. Be kind and respectful and most of all, remember this is fiction and subjective interpretation. There are so many things to be really angry about in the world and Star Wars is the least of our worries.

Cheers and as always, May the Force be with you!

[prolix-yuy]

LJ, do you think people like humor in fanfiction? i LOVE it but i feel like i don’t see it too often… that makes me wonder if it’s just not something people look for.

do YOU like a fic to be funny?

Lovely Eash! What a great question! And I have many many thoughts around it. The quick answer is yes! I love humor in a fic. It feels real and true to have people find the comedy in life, whether it's ironic or ridiculous or purposeful. I'll put some more detailed thoughts on humor in writing below the cut so not everyone has to listen to me wax poetic on this topic:

To start, these are my opinions mostly based on how I feel about writing fic. Other fic writers may have different feelings about this! I'm also coming from this as both a writer and as someone who did improv comedy for several years, where we were "writing" the comedy in real time and getting live feedback on it. So here we go!

Fic writing, to me, is an outlet for exploring feelings and situations in a safe way. It's fiction! It's words on a page! It can be a way for a writer to explore an experience they wished had turned out better, or one they wished would happen. Or they want to see a romance that wasn't explored, or imagine what being part of that would be like. I'm sort of double-talking here, since these feelings can both apply to the writer as a vehicle to create the content and the writer as a participant in the case of reader inserts, but the point I'm getting to is that fic writing often is an outlet for wish fulfillment and processing.

So it stands to reason that many of the themes of fic tend to fall into more serious topics. We want to act out the things that hurt, or that are scary or out of our comfort zone or highly improbable in a safe way. Fic is a great way to explore that! It is highly improbable I am going to seduce a Hollywood actor, especially one that's so hopped up on drugs he might OD, but I love playing around with what that might look like with Dieter. Same with falling in love with Din, or Frankie, or anyone I've ever written about. But joy can come from crafting a story that explores the themes I'm unable or unwilling to experience in real life.

Now here's where comedy comes in. As weird as it sounds, writing the heavy emotional stuff is easier. A shaking hand, a fervent glance, the pain of heartbreak, those topics have a lot of universality. Comedy, on the other hand, can be SUPER subjective. We feel it fall flat and we cringe. We're taught to scold bad comedy, but not to help build it up, so comedy becomes a scary, difficult beast to conquer. And writing comedy is a completely different beast from things like action, adventure, romance, etc. Where should it live? Is it in dialogue with a character, making them the voice for your jokes? Or in the tone of your prose, making the narrator almost become a character themself? What kind of comedy is it? Dark humor, observational humor, absurdism? Is it "really funny" or "just you think it's funny"? There's so much!

This is why I think comedy is not always explored in fic writing. It's complicated! It can throw the mood, feel forced into a scene, or if you keep it as a constant throughout you might feel like you're not being "serious" enough of a writer (which is wrong, btw, I've lost my shit laughing over beautiful writing).

I personally like both. I love a story that lets a comedic tone bleed through (beskarberry's entire masterlist is a masterclass on comedy and levity blending with serious topics, and The Things We Do for Love is a perfect example) and I love little lines scattered through a story. I personally have some favorites in my own writing, including just a silly as hell one coming up in Westworld Whiskey.

The thing I would love to see writers do is use comedy to enhance their story. Sometimes a heavy tone needs a break. Or the tension needs to snap. Comedy is a wonderful way to do that. Then you can jump back in to the angst or drama or action and it allows you to ramp back up and feel that rollercoaster of emotions because you got a taste of what not feeling it constantly was like.

I love comedy as a way to play with voice and plot and tone. I hope more fic writers embrace it and use it both as a tool, and as a way to give the audience one more emotion to explore. Because as much as making someone cry, or get horny, or feel loved or hated is an amazing review, making someone laugh is my absolute favorite thing to do.

I hope this at least entertained you, Eash, and I hope you find some of the comedy you're looking for with more creators. I'm sure there are a crazy number out there doing the Lord's work cracking jokes in battle scenes, and they deserve all the praise too!

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day four of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was Sunglasses!

Steve has a lot of secrets. Too many probably.

Most teenagers’ secrets are things like sleeping with the wrong people, smoking the cheap shit the jocks pass out, broken curfews and failing grades. He’s got all of those too, but Steve's secret runs much deeper than that.

His is the kind of secret that’d have men in black suits coming to take him away, or at this point, more than a decade after letting him go in the first place, putting a bullet in the back of his skull and calling it a day before any trouble comes up.

He’s been stuck in Hawkins all his life. Been fed the knowledge about the world off a silver spoon he didn’t ask for. His first five years of life are well forgotten to shock therapy and to the lab, where they intended to use him and the rest of the kids like him as weapons. Pawns in their big game of life.

But Steve was different. He could turn his powers off, make them undetectable by the machines they hooked him up to. They thought he was just a failure, so after so long, they wiped his brain with their very own cocktail of drugs and just let him go. Adopted him out to a middle aged dink couple who wouldn’t run their mouths about where their little bundle of joy came from as long as their pockets were lined with enough hush money, and that was that.

It didn’t take long for them to realize though, that he wasn’t as normal as they had been convinced he was. Not even knowing he was doing anything wrong, little Stevie would have outbursts, or small tantrums as momma always tried to convince everyone who told her Steve was too much for her to handle.

These weren’t just normal crying fits though. Anyone who got near him would be just as sad or scared or frustrated as he was. A single sob from that boy had enough power to crack the foundations of the family home.

Most kids when they have a cranky morning will get on the nerves of their parents, but Steve could disrupt the whole neighborhood without even realizing it. And that was his power.

They didn’t have a name for it, really. The range of what he can do is too broad, too undefined by anything else. There was a telekinetic girl, a pyrokinetic he’s pretty sure is dead now. But Steve was just special. Part of what made it so easy to go under their radar was this, but it also made him a risk.

The only reason he wasn’t immediately reported and given back to the bad men was the power this frail boy carried. It scared Ruthie and John, and they decided that they’d rather face the men at that lab again than a seven year old who could accidentally destroy them with his emotions.

So they kept him, and certainly kept their distance. They forced him into a little mold of how to behave properly and made him take pills to weaken his powers. They send him to behavioral therapy and make him act like he’s not a failed government experiment. A fact which he only learned a couple of years ago after his pills worked a little too well at messing with his memory that he forgot to take them, and memories came flooding back.

For the same reasons, Steve’s bored of being careful. Bored of following all the rules and being passive, just pretending he’s like everyone else so mommy and daddy dearest are safe. He starts getting a little riskier, testing what he can do, since this is the first time he’s ever really had control over his ability. He finds a link with other people and their emotions, something of an empathy power, but he doesn’t get far in his research, because his plan very quickly goes to shit when Billy Hargrove rolls into town.

Where to begin with Billy. That boy makes him feel all sorts of things he never even considered. The very first day he showed his unimpressed (but very impressive) face at Hawkins high, Steve cracks his windshield. Oops.

He was able to tap into that control and tone it down, but that reserve dwindled the more he’s around Billy, and from there it just spirals. Bending the basketball hoop on accident, exploding light fixtures, giving everyone in the school headaches. It gets to the point where Steve has to come to terms with the fact that he had a crush on Billy, and that he has to do something to get it back under his control before somebody gets hurt.

That and he doesn’t want to get caught now. He just got back into the swing of using his powers before Billy interrupted his calm. Going back there, or whatever else might happen, is the last thing he wants for himself.

He settles for a pair of ray bans.

It’s stupid, but when Steve was still young and all but popping his mommas brains every single time he cried, she was desperate to find a way to get him to stop. She started to notice he’d concentrate hard on one thing and another would happen, staring at a lamp until it shattered, looking into her face until her ears started to ring and pop. So she does what she can to break that subconscious focus. Puts a barrier between him and all that he’s hurting. A plastic, race car themed barrier, but it does its job, and it worked every time until they got him on meds. So now that he’s old enough not to just tear the damn things right off his face, he figures it’s worth a shot.

Because nothing had made him this emotional, this out of control since the day he found out the truth about his past. Billy is special, and the very last thing he wants is to lose control and hurt him.

He still feels like a dope walking into the school with a pair of shades on. Everyone starts to stare in that way he tries not to let remind him of the lab and the doctors standing in circles around him, prodding and waiting for a reaction. Steve thinks wearing sunglass inside is the least weird thing to happen in the halls of a highschool if Tina can come in with a perm high enough to touch the ceiling, but whatever. He’ll get over it.

The fact that nothing’s exploded from how on edge he is, mostly from wondering if his momma’s trick will work and not because of their judgement, is a very good sign.

Boldly, he decides to put it to the ultimate test, and approaches Billy.

In his head, he’s so focused on just going to talk to Billy, he has nothing planned to say to him, but he thinks he would’ve forgotten anyways, what with the lazy smile Billy flashes him when he notices him approaching.

Steve’s gaze quickly darts past Billy to check for damage to anything, the racing in his chest from just a look like that typically enough to at least crack a window. Maybe he’s not as confident about this as he thought, or maybe Billy’s just really good at making him flustered.

Doesn’t matter, because he’s at the other boys locker before he has time to process what he’s doing, “Lookin’ for somethin’ Harrington?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just checking for uh, my fans. Yeah, they follow me around everywhere, you know?” It’s bullshit, and it sounds more than dumb coming out of Steve’s mouth, but it makes Billy laugh, real low and raspy and that’s a win in his book.

“That what the little disguise is for?” Billy hums and taps his temple, clearly referring to the sun glasses perched on Steve’s nose.

“Oh these? No, I uh, wear these ‘cause of the uh.. because I wanna sleep in class and down want the teachers to know?” His answer comes as more of a question than anything, so he’s grateful when Billy seems to be more interested in his excuse than the subject at hand.

“Pfft, yeah right. I’ve heard you sleepin’ on the basketball bus. Ain’t no way your snoring doesn’t get you caught before your eyes do.”

Steve just waves him off, laughs with Billy even if his heart isn’t in it.

Billy closes his locker door, switching the subject as the scenery switches. It’s all a distraction to Steve, but he forces himself to look Billy in the face as the other boy asks him, “Seriously though dude, you okay? It ain’t like you to switch up your look. You’re not hiding anythin’ under the shades are you?”

“Nah. Just been thinking, I’m not the King because I’m not cool anymore, right? So I’m tryin’ to look a little more.. interesting.” Steve’s not a very quick or good liar, despite the military guarded secret that is himself and the little black number seven carved into his arm, and he can tell Billy doesn’t buy it.

He’s a good sport though, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and assuring him with a little jostle, “Aw, Stevie, you're cool in my book. At least as long as you quit comin’ up with reasons not to hang with me, yeah?”

“Yeah, I- alright. I can do that. Sorry for flaking so much though. Didn’t realize until you said something.”

“S’Cool. Just meet me at the quarry after dark and it’ll make up for it.” Billy offers, obviously trying to play up the coolness neither of them apparently actually have, and Steve can’t help but call him on it. “It gets dark at like, four-thirty, five o’clock anymore?”

“Fine. Meet me at nine, pretty boy.” Billy smirks, dropping his voice to add knowingly, “And lose the shades. I think you’re much more interesting without ‘em.”

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[cowboycakes]

The Strategy

Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Reader

Synopsis: The forest was the last place you thought you'd find yourself infatuated with someone you barely knew - especially not your cocky prisoner.

Themes: angst, flirting, guilty love, big plot twist

Warnings: kissing and suggestive language, bullying / teasing, mentions of death, some anxious thinking, light alcohol and tobacco use, profanity. reader uses she/her pronouns. s4 spoilers.

Word Count: 5.7k

Anon (🐸)'s Request: Hi ! Can I request a Zeke x fem reader imagine/one-shot? Reader is a captain for the survey corp and long time veteran. She is really intelligent and is a strategist for the corp. They kind of hate each other but have a lot of chemistry but start bonding before the forest incident. Sorry if that isn't specific enough and too vague.

On occasion, you tended to be so logical that it ruined your life. There was no room in your mind for daydreams, love, or speculation. Fate was false - most things in life were completely arbitrary. That was the way you’d trained yourself to think. Not because you enjoyed it, only because it made it easier to survive.

This way of thinking is a result of your lifetime with the Corps. The award of a Captain’s position was the fruit of your labor, along with being revered for your ability to strategize. Many of the most important and most successful missions in recent years had been planned by you. But, the bubbling tension and division within the walls have thrown you for a loop. You’ve attempted to collaborate with Levi in recent weeks to try to pin down any conflict - anything you could do to calm the storm and keep your comrades safe would be worth it.

Instead of being able to act on whatever plans you’d developed, you’d been assigned to the most bizarre mission you’d ever taken part in: babysitting some man in his late twenties, all the way out in a forest filled with towering redwood trees. This mystery man was apparently not to be trusted, he was Eren’s half-brother from Marley and the holder of the beast titan. He’d done tremendous damage to the Corps in the past. His intentions and motives now remained mysterious, but one thing was for sure: his loyalties lied with Eren, not with the Scouts.

You were disappointed and terrified all together. Being so far away from the action left both you and your comrades vulnerable. But, Levi insisted you needed to confine this man far away from society. And although you were a captain, whatever Levi says usually goes.

The forest wasn’t so bad upon your arrival. Damp pine needles that covered the ground coated the air in a sweet aroma. The blanket of shade given off by the trees was temperate in the summer heat. The tents you’d been provided with were sturdy, insulated, and a dark shade of green that complimented the woodland setting. Above all, you were accompanied by 30 trained soldiers and a shipment of high-quality Marleyan wine.

The entirety of your first day in the forest was spent unpacking and setting up your living quarters. Stars now peak through the canopy of branches above, and a cold breeze ruffles the millions of leaves surrounding the camp. The air was chilly despite the heat that blazed earlier in the day.

The cot you’d assembled in your tent is comfortable enough, but the grey sheets you’d just stretched over the mattress still smell stale. You conjure up the idea of going for a walk while your blankets air out. The musty scent sure wasn’t going to lull you to sleep.

Your timid feet crunch on the ground through the forest for a while, away from the camp. The mist of your breath is tangible in front of your face - the light jacket you’d brought wasn’t going to be enough to keep your goosebumps at bay. It’s much more intimidating out here at night than you’d expected. Darkness brought mystery to the gaps between each tree. And the sheer amount of trees beyond the campsite is dizzying, their height is even more difficult to process. They add a sense of company to your walk, although you can’t tell if they are peaceful observers or prying sets of eyes.

It’s surprisingly quiet out here, no animal or human alike made noise at this hour. The silence leads you to pick up on the echo of a fire crackling somewhere. You’re suddenly a bit excited - you’d figured everyone would have gone to sleep by now.

You spot a comforting orange glow coming from the other side of the distant campsite, offset from the main groups of tents. Maybe someone else’s sheets needed time to breathe too.

The light grows brighter as you trek towards it. It leads you to a humble tent and a fire pit with two rusted metal chairs placed on either side of it. In one of the chairs sits a blonde man in a white shirt, with his back turned to you. He has his nose in a poorly bound book - its stitching is frayed and the pages look wilted, as if they’d been dropped in water before. A cigarette smolders in his free hand.

Your feet crunch into the ground a little harder as you approach in an attempt to avoid startling him. The man looks up to you once you’re finally facing each other. His face is foreign to you. Round glasses on his nose reflect a golden luster from the fire in front of him, blurring your view of his grey eyes slightly. Blonde waves are parted down the middle of his head, tousled a bit too perfectly. He has a well groomed beard that compliments his structured face and strong biceps that peak through his shirt sleeves.

He’s handsome, classy, alluring. Nothing like the usual around here.

“Hi, I’m Captain Reader,” you say with a small smile.

“Reader, huh?” he says, folding his book closed, “I think I’ve heard that name somehow…”

“Oh, possibly. I’m a long time captain. I do a lot of strategic work as well, and it's not exclusive to the Scouts. So my name tends to get around.”

“My name is Zeke,” he replies, returning the smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zeke… did that sound familiar? You couldn’t decide.

You take a seat in the other chair across from the fire, warming your hands once you get comfortable. The embers lit in front of you are only a sad little bundle of sticks, clearly in need of more fuel. Zeke rolls his shoulders back as his eyes focus in on your frame. His attention is definitely not on the book anymore. His body language almost tells you he likes what he sees - he’s open, relaxed, observant. The cigarette has gone a bit limp in between his fingers.

You’re guilty of curiosity too, as your eyes prod his figure. There must be something in the air.

“What’s that book about?” you question, “it looks… well loved.”

He chuckles. “It's a little fantasy piece, actually. Not something I’d usually find myself reading, but I’ve read it a hundred times now. It’s about a maiden who buys her way to heaven, and a prince who rescues her from the consequences.”

“Interesting…” you say, “how does someone buy their way to heaven?”

“With something far more valuable than money,” he explains. You wonder if the sultry undertone he added was all part of your imagination. It was a little grumbly, suggestive.

“And what would that be?”

“Not sure, still trying to figure that one out,” he remarks, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. Light from the fire gets trapped in the smoke and travels up through the dark air as he exhales.

“You’re gonna ruin your lungs if you keep doing that, Zeke,” you joke.

He chuckles again, “So she’s pretty and caring. Guess I’ve lucked out.”

You feel a little heat rush to your cheeks. This innocent, flattered, puppy-love feeling: you hadn’t felt this way in years. You really wish you could just brush it off, it wasn’t something you were used to. Instead, you let your mind wander for only a second - it would be a nice pastime to have a summer fling with someone in this forest. You were more than tempted. It would get your mind off of the impending doom you tended to feel in chaotic times like this. You could live a bit for once.

And the beautiful man in front of you could be the perfect candidate.

“Hmm, it’s convenient that you think so,” you reply, crossing your legs.

“Convenient? For you, or for me?” he questions. “Looking to get something out of your time in this forest, Captain?”

You pause. He’s bold. “Depends… what about you?”

Zeke lifts the book up slightly in his hand and flips it over to examine its withered back cover, “Not sure, maybe I’ll finally experience whatever this book is talking about. Something so desirable I could cheat my way into heaven with it.”

No. His tone wasn’t your imagination.

“I have a feeling you’ll end up being the prince that has to deal with someone else’s fuck-ups instead,” you laugh.

His lips curl back into a smile as he starts to laugh with you. “Doesn’t sound out of character,” he replies.

His pretty blonde hair ruffles a bit as the wind picks up. And shit - is that wind bitter. The miniscule fire wasn’t doing it’s best to warm you. You notice your limbs are shaking, too much for your jacket and hands to conceal. Zeke surely notices too, he’s been eyeing you this whole time after all.

“Here,” Zeke offers, pulling a thick corduroy coat off of the back of his chair.

“No, no. You should wear that. I’m alright,” you protest, rubbing your hands over your arms vigorously to try to stop your shuddering.

Zeke gets up from his seat anyway and crosses the gap between the two of you. You look up to him once he’s standing over you, embarrassed. Two big hands drape the hefty fabric over your shivering shoulders. You immediately feel warmer as your body heat gets trapped underneath it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling on the jacket to adjust it on your arms.

The wind still howls as Zeke goes back to his metal chair. He sits down casually, taking another drag of his cigarette as his eyes move back to you, lingering on you gently -- like he feels satisfied or nostalgic. Your features looked so beautiful in the faint orange light of the fire, as the only focal point in his vision while darkness clouded everything behind you. He couldn’t help but stare.

“I do mean it,” he says as he exhales, “that you’re pretty.”

His words hang there for a moment. They wait for you on a hook, persuading you to take his bait. So he could reel you in.

“Trying to flatter your superiors huh? Well that’s one way to get what you want,” you retort.

“Who says you’re my superior, Captain Reader?” he jokes.

You laugh at him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, “but I’ve never seen you around before. Are you from another branch of the military?”

Zeke pauses, letting out a huff of air.

“You know, with a reputation like yours, one would think you’d know your enemies a little better.”

Your face drops from a smile that rested high on your cheeks to a shocked, open-mouthed glare. You’re frozen. Why didn’t you assume…

“You’re the other Jaeger…” you trail off.

Zeke brings the cigarette back to his mouth and flips his book back open in response.

You stare down into the fire, unsure of what to do or say next. You were mortified. Maybe saying nothing was the answer - you’d already dug yourself into a hole by flirting with your prisoner. And damn, did Zeke deliberately let you. He knew who you were. He wanted you to feel this way. He led you on.

Who was supposed to deal with your fuck-up now?

You stand up, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“Goodnight, Zeke,” you say quietly, dropping his coat onto the chair.

You move quickly through the dark air that nips at your ears, back to the safety of your tent.

***

“Don’t go off and be an idiot,” Levi warns.

You assure him you wouldn’t, pouring a big glass of wine for yourself with a smile spread across your face.

Levi had been more than reluctant to let your soldiers bring this wine, but you’d done some convincing. This forest had been boring for the past few days. Laughing over a few drinks would be a sure way to liven up the crowd. You were just excited to finally get a taste of this Marleyan wine that everyone had been raving about.

You hadn’t seen Zeke since that night three days ago. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get him off of your mind. Partially because you were horribly embarrassed. And angry. You couldn’t believe you’d walked into his trap like that, practically offering yourself to him as a subject to humiliate. You were sure he’d enjoyed every bit of it.

And the other reason you couldn’t get him off of your mind…

He was a bit gorgeous. And you loved the way he talked to you, how it made you feel. Even though your time with him was so short, you secretly wanted more. You cursed yourself for thinking about him like that after all the harm he’d done to the Scouts. All of it made you sick - it was wrong, it made you feel like you had dirt on your hands.

But what if you tried to talk with him again? Just to sort your feelings out. Then you could be free to forget about him. This time, you would control yourself. You knew who he was now, and what it meant to be speaking with him. You were allowed to speak with him, you just had to be careful if you were going to proceed. None of you could trust him.

But the curiosity was still killing you.

You swirl the wine around in your glass as you dig the toe of your leather boot into the soft ground - trying to decide.

Anxious feet move below you before your mind is ready for them to, back toward Zeke’s tent.

It was nearly sundown, and beautiful purple rays beam through the forest, shattered from full display by hundreds of tree branches. The air was warm tonight, so there would be no need for Zeke's jacket again.

Once you see his camp, you notice he’s back in the same chair again. He’s still reading that torn-up book, this time with a pencil in his hand. He scratches little notes onto the pages here and there.

He looks up once he hears the familiar sound of your boots. The eyes behind his circular lenses scan you, lingering on the glass in your hand. You wonder if you should have brought him one.

“Hi, Zeke,” you say softly, making your way to the chair across the empty fire pit.

“Captain, thought I’d never see you again,” he says, a false excitement stuck in his voice.

You keep swirling your wine around in its glass, waiting for it to air out so you could take your first sip. It smelled divine, so fruity and fresh, in contrast with the earthy smells that the forest gave off.

Zeke looks up to you over the top rims of his glasses, unimpressed. You raise your glass to your lips, almost ready to tilt it back and let the chilled, burgundy wine rush into your mouth.

“That’s sluggish if you,” he remarks.

You pause, letting the cool glass linger on your bottom lip.

“What?” you bark, pulling the glass from your mouth.

He looks back down at his book, “No Marleyan strategist - or any good strategist for that matter - would drink in front of their adversaries. It makes you look sluggish.”

You just gape at him. He’s probably having fun while trying to irritate you. Two could play.

You put your arm out in front of you and flip the glass over, pouring the wine onto the wet dirt below. It splashes up onto your boots as it streams from your cup and runs down to spill into the fire pit.

“Happy?” you grumble, tossing the glass into the dirt. “Probably shitty wine anyway, considering you two come from the same place.”

He snickers, “Not quite. I was hoping you’d just hand the glass over.”

You regretted trying to talk to him now.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting up from your spot and turning back toward your tent. “Keep scribbling in your stupid book.”

“Actually, I was writing the two of us into the story.”

You’re sure he’s just pushing your buttons further - trying to lay another trap for you and capture you in another awkward moment of infatuation. But his words cause you to pause in your steps for a second.

“And what are we doing?” you question.

“We just cheated our way into heaven.”

“Creep,” you grumble before continuing to walk.

***

You hadn’t gone near that wine since. You had a grudge against it now, it completely ruined the mood last time you saw Zeke. But it had sure lightened the mood for everyone else, probably a little too much. Everyone except for Levi, of course. It was nearly impossible to change his mood.

In the meantime, you were still victim to unwarranted thoughts of Zeke in your head. This almost felt like a schoolgirl crush, how he bullied you a bit. This was more like torment, actually, considering you were trying to get him out of your head. But it didn’t change the fact that you liked what you saw.

Lately he was always reading that book and jotting down notes in it. And he rarely left his little corner of the campsite except for when he went on walks sometimes. You’d admire him from afar, careful never to let your eyes meet with his.

You’d take the images of him now burned into your brain back to bed with you, and stare up to the dark tent ceiling above. You’d fantasize about what it would have been like to meet Zeke in another life. One where the two of you weren’t enemies trapped on two different sides of a war. Where you didn’t feel guilt for your interest in someone who had jeopardized you and your comrades. Where the two of you were free to know one another.

You couldn’t pinpoint what kept driving this involuntary curiosity you felt towards him. It was tiring, honestly. But you wanted his company. Maybe you just wanted company in general -- it's not like you got along with him or anything.

Should you fix that? Did you even want to fix that? Would a peace offering be doing too much?

He did mention he wanted your glass of wine…

So one night, you cave. And you march over to the wooden cart that held dozens of cases of wine, an empty glass for Zeke in hand. You’re shocked to see only four measly bottles remain, laying on their sides in the only wooden case left. You could have sworn the shipment was full only a few days ago, but this camp had been set up for weeks now. Everyone here must be just as bored as you were, and several times more thirsty.

You pry open a cork and pour a few inches of wine into the glass, stopping to waft the crisp aroma into your nose. The air tonight was crisp too, it was cooler than it had been in recent days. You were adamant about remembering a jacket this time. The journey to Zeke’s tent feels long under the moonless sky. Hesitancy, followed by regret, pools into your brain as the dim light from his campfire comes into view.

Grow some balls, you’re convincing yourself that all of this means more than it really does. You’re bringing him a glass of wine for God’s sake.

There’s still time to turn around though… you could just finish the glass on your own. Out of range for him to bully you for it.

But he’s sitting there so prettily. He has his boots up on the rocks surrounding the fire pit, careful not to burn their soles in the flames. His blonde locks are pushed back slightly, giving you more room to look at his smooth face. And he’s certainly not busy, just reading his old book. Maybe he still had some compliments left for you despite all the bickering you two had done. Maybe he-

“Haven’t tried any of that ‘shitty’ wine yet, have you?” he questions. You hadn’t even noticed how close you are to him now. You’d gotten lost in him on the way.

“No…” you grumble, “it's for you. A peace offering.”

You stick your hand out. He receives the glass, lifting it up to examine it before taking a big drink.

“Ah,” he breathes, clearly satisfied. “It’s disgusting, Captain. Really.”

You stifle a laugh. “Everyone else seems to think so too. It’s all nearly gone.”

“Hmm,” he says, taking another sip, “None for you, I guess. Might as well just let it run out.”

“I think I will,” you mock, turning away from him to go sit in your chair,

The sizable fire Zeke had put together tonight was quick to thaw the chills on your arms. You really didn’t need your jacket after all, and opted to lay it over the back of your chair. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, taking in each other’s presence, observing the dying light in the forest.

Zeke looks at you eventually. Your eyes instinctually dart away.

“What made you want to come see me again?” Zeke asks.

You frantically search for an answer. You need to be careful.

“Boredom,” you reply flatly.

“You think so?” His attitude is back to how it was the first night you’d met. He’s engaged, focused, yet comes off so casual laying back up against his seat like that. He enjoys toying with you, like a cat to its prey.

Be careful.

“Don’t like my answer or something?”

That wasn’t exactly careful.

“No. You’re just not being honest.” He breathes that last word out like he needs to get a rise out of you, then he nonchalantly takes another drink while he waits for you to respond. Your mouth is open the slightest bit; you’re nervous, angry. He’s in your head now. He was reading you like that overused book of his.

“Then what do you want to hear from me?” you question. There’s thankfully still a false calmness in your voice.

“Just the truth. It’s not that complicated.”

You were sweating in front of this fire now. What was the truth? That you were interested in him? That you wanted nothing to do with him?

Be honest.

“I guess I just like your company,” you admit. Your eyes fall to the rocks lining the fire pit.

***

The discussion became pleasant after that, surprisingly. You guess you just needed to own up to how you felt. Your admittance caused some of the anger and tension tugging between the two of you to subside. The conversation was calm, collected, bouncing around from subject to subject: from the book, to life in Marley, to life in Paradis, to your occupation, and back to the book. Most of it was uneventful, but you liked that. It made it easy to pretend you were talking to him on the first night again, before you found out who he really was.

You left his camp with a giddy smile on your face. You’re on your way back to your tent now, after saying your goodbyes to Zeke. It was late, and you needed to be up early to have an important conversation with Levi. And god forbid he found out about any of this business between you and Zeke. Even though nothing was serious, it would come off unprofessional. And rightfully so.

You’re so lost in thought by the time you’re opening your tent door that you didn’t realize your arms were cold. The jacket you brought was probably still hanging off the chair at Zekes fire pit. It would look suspicious if you left it there and one of the other soldiers happened to see it.

You go back quietly, careful not to let anyone hear your footsteps. A couple of scattered thoughts weave their way into your head on your journey - what if this was another ploy of his? An attempt to get you back where he wants you, this time late at night. But how could it be? You were the one who left your jacket there. If anything, this was your own attempt to lead yourself back to him. Did you want him that badly… deep down?

When you reach your chair, you find it to be empty. You check around its sides, back, and underside - no jacket in sight. Out of the corner of your eye, a sliver of light shows from under the tarp serving as Zeke’s tent door. He’d probably noticed it and taken it inside with him after you’d gone home.

Halfheartedly, you meander to the tent door. You tap on it once the limited glimmer of light from inside touches the toes of your boots.

“Zeke? Do you have my jacket?” you whisper, still flicking the tarp to get his attention.

No answer.

Cold air stings your exposed skin as a draft swoops down through the camp. You also were wary of any observers that happened to be out this late at night. There was no telling what it looked like you might be doing outside his tent at the moment. The more uncomfortable you became out here, the more impatient you got.

“Zeke!” you hiss, whipping your head around your shoulder to double check your surroundings.

Still nothing but silence on the other side. Had he fallen asleep already?

The urge to pull back the tent door hits you. It would only take a moment to retrieve the jacket, then you’d be on your way.

Once again, making this a bigger deal than it really is.

But that didn’t matter. It felt like a big deal. That’s what every situation that involved him felt like. A big, complicated, multidimensional deal.

Be careful.

That wasn’t the answer either. Being careful was a good tactic when it came to strategizing your next moves in war. It was sometimes rendered useless when dealing with love. This was out of your control. And that was ok. That was what compelled you toward him - the mystery, the rush.

Let go.

You grip the tarp, it crinkles under your stiff fingers as you pull it back. A rush of warm air hits you, along with the light of a few oil lamps. And Zeke… shirtless. Sitting on his unmade bed with your jacket in hand.

The sight of his sculpted body in front of you sets a nervous, unprepared spark off in you, causing you to shut the door fast and stumble inside. And all at once, there you were - back in Zeke’s grasp. You accepted that wanted to be there.

“My jacket... ” you say, staring hard at the fabric in his hands, trying to avoid eye contact with his bare chest.

He stands up in silence and comes to your side, raising the jacket up once he gets real close to you. Oh no, he’s draping it over your shoulders again, slowly this time around, taking his time to stare into your puppy dog eyes. Dammit - the hot cheeks, the butterflies, the embarrassment. All of it was back now, in an instant he had you feeling like puddy in his hands. The two of you stare at each other as his hands adjust the jacket around you, stopping to play with one of the buttons on the front.

“You’re forgetful,” he mumbles, still focused on the button on your chest. His tone is sweet and quiet, a small smile appears out of one corner of his mouth.

You weren’t breathing, or thinking. Just looking down innocently at the hand that was so close to you.

“I’m not… normally,” you say quietly.

Zeke’s hands move to grip each side of the front of your jacket gently. His eyes move up from the hands placed on your jacket, and back to you. To your lips. You part them at the realization, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat.

He shifts further in towards you, tugging on your jacket the slightest bit.

One cohesive thought rises up in the blankness of your brain. You want to kiss him.

The urge was mutual. Your lashes flutter against your cheeks a few times before you shut them, turning your head slightly to the right. Zeke follows your lead. You feel warm fingertips touch your chin and guide you to his soft pair of lips. His other hand abandons your jacket and comes down to meet your waist, slowly sliding to the small of your back. You melt into his touch, pulling yourself in closer. Chills go down your neck at the sensation of being in his arms, at his mercy. It feels so right, so warm and gentle. You want to keep going - so bad. You want him to hold you, touch you, kiss you harder.

But only for a moment.

You pull away once the guilt hits your core, gently touching your fingers to your lips.

Zeke stares at you, his eyes a bit wider than normal. His arms have gone limp at his sides without having you to occupy them any longer. You can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something that might save the situation and bring your lips back to his. You didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s wrong. This is all wrong,” you say, backing up into the tent door behind you.

You think of the war. You think of your duties. You think of who Zeke really is. Any fluttering in your stomach was gone now, instead it was filled by tinges of regret.

“You’re right. It is,” he responds. He walks back over to his bed and sits on the quilt ruffled at its end. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head away from you. “I figured you’d be smart enough not to kiss back.”

You were almost too shocked to notice how much his words burned. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes squint at him a bit. Emotion courses through you as your mind crashes down from the high you were just on. You needed out of this tent.

You grip the tarp resting against your back and fling it open. You felt lost, speed walking away from Zeke’s tent and toward the center of camp. The night concealed the confusion on your face, but only for a minute. A fire glows near your tent, lighting up your surroundings - its Levi. You try your best to avoid him, changing your course to avoid his eyes.

“What are you doing awake, Reader,” Levi questions dully.

You don’t let out any response other than stopping in your tracks.

“Is everything... alright?”

“I just,” you search for anything appropriate, any excuse for your apparent distress, “don’t like being in this forest.”

You both go quiet for a moment, listening to the snapping of thin branches in the fire.

Levi breaks the silence, “That’s actually what I was going to mention to you tomorrow. The MP’s need you for something. I was going to give you the choice to go back, or stay here.”

Going back. Maybe that was the right answer you’d tried so hard to find.

***

You shove all of your belongings into your suitcase early the next morning. It didn’t take you long to decide you needed to abandon this mission. Nothing between you and Zeke would ever work out, and your feelings for him were only a burden to everyone here, and yourself.

You lug your bags to a horse and cart that had been set up for you, tossing them over the cart’s walls and into the back.

Climbing up into the front seat, you notice a gift waiting for you - that overused book. Zeke must have finally figured out how to fake his way into heaven.

You decided to read some of it on the way back.

Zeke sure had written his own story inside of it. All of the notes he’d scribbled in the margins were in another language, presumably from Marley - a secret story you’d never get to understand. Only for him to know.

***

You heard news of what happened in the forest a few days after you arrived home. You couldn’t process it at first, instead you just sat in disbelief and denial. Then the ‘what ifs’ set in. What if you had stayed? Maybe you could have stopped Zeke from doing all the damage he decided to cause. The tear-filled anger set in after that.

There was only one chapter of his book left now. You felt disgusted looking at it, a reminder of everything you’d felt for him. You needed to sit yourself down and get through it so you could finally throw it away - and finally forget about him forever.

You come to the final page. It was intended to be blank, a sort of protectant between the ink on the last page and the back cover. But instead, there’s a penciled in note. From Zeke.

His writing in your language was messy and shaky. You assumed he could read in your language, but may not be practiced in writing in it. This was probably the first message he’d ever written in it. All for you.

—

Dear Captain Reader,

I tend to avoid feeling guilty for much. I probably won’t feel guilty for everything I’m about to do to your soldiers in this forest.

I did feel guilty, however, when I saw your beautiful face that night you found me alone in the forest. And then I realized you were caring, brilliant, and a strategist that was far smarter than I was.

Well, this was my attempt at strategizing.

Pulling you in and then pushing you away. I hoped the guilt and confusion would make you leave. Make you think you were unfit for the assignment, too distracted by me. Heartbroken, even. Anything to get you out of here.

Now, I’m not too sure there will be anyone to rescue you. I won’t be able to again. Take care of yourself. Stay sharp.

I hope you enjoyed the book. I was really never a fan of the ending.

Zeke

—

Author's Note:

Dear anon: You gave me a lottt of free rein with this one, so I hope it was ok ●﹏● (and not too angsty and complicated lol. You said they kinda hate each other but theres chemistry and I just ran with it. Oopsies.) This was one of my favorite fics to write, ever, I think! I had a lot of fun with the dialogue especially. Thanks so much for the request, and thanks to everyone else for reading! Lots of love - Shep :)

[shihalyfie]

Neverland, the role of “nostalgia” in Kiuzna’s narrative, and the 02 quartet’s unusual immunity to it

In general, the 02 quartet (my shorthand for the four human characters introduced in 02 who weren’t in Adventure, namely Daisuke, Ken, Miyako, and Iori) have a position in Kizuna that you can call “shockingly favorable” in that they’re kept safely out of the most dangerous parts of the plot in ways the others aren’t. This especially sticks out when we get to the Eosmon incident reaching its climax, when Takeru and Hikari are placed in the same situation as their Adventure seniors, despite the movie and its surrounding media generally portraying them closer in line with the others in the 02 group than the Adventure group.

To be a bit blunt about it, the obvious main reason the story is set up this way is meta -- a lot of the climax’s effectiveness depends on the audience getting sensory impact via recognizing things from the original series (including 02 as well; how convenient it is that all of the international Chosen are in the positions 02 fans would recognize!), and so it’s obvious that said climax would evoke imagery related to the series that was Digimon Adventure, while the 02 quartet would be treated extra-kindly by the narrative due to the need to give them compensatory action screentime given certain real-life events. But just because the originating reason is meta doesn’t mean there isn’t also a story reason for it, especially considering the relevance of 02′s themes in Kizuna’s narrative, and the surrounding circumstances regarding both series.

Before we get into anything else, the first thing that needs to be established is that Menoa and Eosmon’s lure is pretty obviously depicted as working on a subconscious level. This is why everyone else in the narrative agrees that what they did is “kidnapping”, despite her insistence that she’s just doing what they wanted. While they can’t not admit to having moments of weakness, nevertheless, it’s likely that most if not all of the people Menoa kidnapped consciously knew better and had learned better lessons than this a long time ago; if Menoa had consciously offered Neverland to her victims, most of them would have probably said no! But as Daisuke said back in 02 episode 49 -- when he witnessed his own friends being subjected to something similar at the hands of BelialVamdemon -- there’s no sin in having feelings of worries or troubles (and, by extension, irrational feelings in general), and Eosmon’s abilities and Neverland happen to be able to directly target them. In fact, we ourselves got to witness this internal conflict when Menoa made her direct offer to Taichi and Yamato to join Neverland; they briefly considered it because of the circumstances, but were snapped out of it quickly with Agumon and Gabumon’s intervention, and were really, really mad at themselves for considering it shortly after.

We saw the process of how Ayaka became one of the kidnapping victims at the beginning of the movie -- it happened right after she complained that she wasn’t fond of the idea of becoming an adult at this point. So it does lend some truth to the idea that Menoa’s working off something with these cases, and that Eosmon did specifically target people who had those wishes to some degree. Moreover, note carefully how this kidnapping (and some others in the movie) is portrayed; Eosmon doesn’t actually emerge from the device in question (it’s obvious that nobody notices the giant butterfly monster), and the victim’s consciousness and partner are whisked away thanks to being caught by the device camera. In Ayaka’s case, because her phone was sitting on the table, pointed at her. The fact that this is not how the kidnappings are portrayed all the way to the end of the movie is a very significant point.

So let’s talk about Neverland and its construction. The whole thing is based on Menoa’s own very, very warped view of what “happiness” is. This means that Neverland is only an “ideal world” or “utopia” in a way that makes sense to her -- and once you learn the full extent of her backstory, it becomes apparent how she came to the mentality she did, and, more pertinently, how she ended up projecting that on everyone else. Hence, how she came to decide that she knew better and should decide for everyone, because she thinks she gets the right to decide on everyone’s happiness based on her own experiences. (She doesn’t.)

The way Neverland is constructed is that everyone has “their own places” -- their own individual islands that recreate “memories” of everyone being able to be together with their partner, forever. So in other words, it’s not just that everyone’s being turned into children; it’s that they’re being kept in an eternal loop of their best memory and unable to “move forward”.

Here are three very significant parts about this, which will be important to keep in mind as we go deeper into this analysis:

Menoa’s view of this utopia requires people to be separated -- for all she claims this is a utopia where people can play together, she discourages fraternizing and encourages everyone to stay only with their own partners. This is, presumably, to lessen complications with said memories, because what might be one person’s best memory might not be for another, and also because she thinks one person being alone with their partner is happiness enough in itself. As we’ll be seeing later, this is very much not the case for everyone.

A lot of these memories in Neverland -- and Menoa’s own mentality, as we eventually find out -- are heavily dependent on the concept of rose-colored nostalgia, or, that is to say, conveniently omitting or forgetting about all of the bad things about one’s past in order to portray it as such a wonderful thing that nobody should ever move on from. And in the end, that probably applies to real-life childhood in general, too; as much as it’s so often put on a pedestal for being a time when “everything was simpler”, you can also easily argue that it wasn’t actually all sunshine and roses, it’s just that the process of forgetting things or the grass-is-greener phenomenon makes you conveniently forget all of the bad things and frustration that came with it too.

Because the concept of needing to stay in the past forever is based on the idea that it’s preferable to growing up, these memories thus have a strong premise of “things you cannot do anymore” -- something that, bar going back to the past and never moving from it, you will never get back or be able to sufficiently recreate. It’s unlikely the islands themselves are one-to-one recreating their specific memories in the way they happened, but rather seemingly presenting them the opportunity to “constantly do over” things they want to recreate or do again, as long as those things are associated with a happy thing that isn’t as easily accessible anymore.

In the case of the five Adventure group members who were brought into Neverland, these “memories” that they’re seen trapped in are, of course, from Digimon Adventure.

It is of course foolhardy to pretend that the main reason for this wasn’t meta, since, of course, there’s a huge point to be made here about the relationship between Adventure and nostalgia, plus the simple fact that this is what we’re most likely to recognize and be nostalgic for, but it also makes sense within the context of the narrative; Menoa has an extreme bias towards the happiness of her childhood revolving almost entirely around her partner, and, of course, Adventure was when these kids first had their most formative meetings with said partners. (This is also probably the in-story explanation for why the other international Chosen from 02 appear at or close to their 02 selves; beyond the meta reason of it being a way to make them recognizable when we only knew them for such a short time, it also approximates when they met their own partners.)

On top of that, Adventure was not all sunshine and roses for its cast! After all, there was a ton of drama and emotional trauma and stress from running away from enemies trying to kill them, or trying to save the universe, and glossing over that is also foolhardy -- but this is also where our concept of “rose-colored” comes in. Menoa’s not offering the kids the entire adventure; she’s offering them a small slice of the moments when they were able to be happy, the moments that made them want to stay in the Digital World for a whole 110 years’ worth of time at the end of Adventure -- she’s basically offering them that very thing they wanted and had ripped away from them at the end of Adventure when the time dilation phenomenon stopped. Take out all of the bad stuff, and suddenly, the events of Adventure seem outright romantic -- it’s the whole school of thought that fueled Adventure’s inspirations of Two Years’ Vacation and Stand By Me, in which a lot of stressful stuff happened and yet you still can’t help but think there was something magical and romantic about it. (I cannot emphasize enough how much of a cultural impact Stand By Me in particular had in Japan, to the point where it’s considered the epitome example of a “coming of age story” and “summer adventure”.)

Let’s take a closer look at what’s on each of the Adventure kids’ personal islands:

Hikari is probably the one in the most unusual position among this group, since she didn’t join until over the halfway point, and the first arc she got involved in revolved around everyone wanting her and Tailmon dead. Thus, the memory we get to see her involved in is the Numemon factory in Adventure episode 49. Although this was in the middle of the Dark Masters arc (and, uniquely, very close to the end of the series where a lot of stress was involved), due to the limited amount of time she got to be in the Digital World, this was the one time she got to do something really cool and awesome and impressive for herself that had nothing to do with the others (again: see how the requirements for these islands require not fraternizing with friends and being isolated).

One thing that the Adventure kids got to do that wasn’t in play in 02 was that there were a lot of “romantic experiences”, involving strange adventures and things like phone boxes on the beach, and, very significantly, “Digimon friends” -- ones that the kids made a huge note of bonding with over the course of the series. This contributes to a certain sense of whimsy that was involved in this adventure that the 02 quartet ultimately never ended up getting to foster, because the lack of the time dilation phenomenon meant that they spent much less time in the Digital World overall (more on this in a bit), and once the time dilation stopped, it meant that these kinds of “whimsical” experiences were ones the Adventure group was permanently torn away from once that adventure ended. That dropping of the time dilation phenomenon not only cut that initial adventure short, it also prevented any future ones like it from ever happening again.

And, of course, this is an extremely rose-colored memory, because shortly afterwards, the Numemon ended up all sacrificing themselves for Hikari. But hey, when you’re in a space that can eternally loop good memories forever, everything’s fine as long as we conveniently never get to that part, right?

From this point on, you’ll notice that all of the memories that show up on these islands are from before the halfway point of the series, because after that, things started getting increasingly pear-shaped and much more difficult to disentangle the stress, mental breakdowns, and witnessing of deaths from. (Hikari’s probably wouldn’t have come from such a late incident if she hadn’t joined the party so late.) Although there still were looming threats around the horizon in the beginning of Adventure, they weren’t always immediately apparent to the kids at every turn, and in fact, the beginning of the series involved more of a “well, we’re in this situation and probably need to get home somehow” aura than it did a “the world is in danger and all of us might die” aura. (It’s also in direct contrast to the 02 group, who were given the details of the crisis and what they needed to do roughly from the get-go.) So in other words, if you want to have some rose-colored nostalgia about the romanticism of this adventure, these are some of the best episodes to pull from.

Takeru’s is obviously from the Village of Beginnings, corresponding to Adventure episode 12, when he and Patamon got to have a fun romp through the village, play together, meet Elecmon, and learn about how Digimon are born. It’s also very much something he did without the others, only with Patamon, and had a lot of “fun and happiness” associated with (later solo episodes with Takeru had a lot more upsetting events more intrinsically tied with it), and, again, it’s extremely rose-colored -- it wasn’t even a day later when Angemon died in front of Takeru’s eyes. But hey, that’s even more reason to pick a moment from before then to stay in forever! Can’t have trauma if that trauma never happens, right?

Also, note that Takeru is one of the few here who’s confirmed to be aware of the partnership dissolution issue at this point, and, unlike Koushirou, isn’t confirmed to have accepted a forward-thinking mentality about it yet -- this is a very, very prime time for his fears of being separated from Patamon again to have a nasty relapse.

Mimi’s is the closest to the midpoint of the series, from the affair with the Geckomon and Otamamon castle (from Adventure episode 25; the metal railings here resemble the stage railings from that episode). It’s from the period of time that was a “lull” -- when nobody actually knew about the encroaching threat of Vamdemon quite yet, and for all it was worth, there was no longer any danger. So Mimi got to live happily in the comfort of the castle and play around with the Geckomon and Otamamon...which, of course, also conveniently excludes the affair where she went on a power trip, made everyone miserable due to her selfishness, and immediately felt guilt over it.

Mimi’s associations with this incident are not entirely negative; she was clearly still having fun singing for them in the end (note how her clothing during that scene involved her regular outfit, which she has on here), and she still had a positive impression of her relationship with the Geckomon and Otamamon as per Adventure episode 47 and 02 episode 6 (and as per 02 episode 15, even though everyone’s initial encounter with TonosamaGeckomon ended badly, nobody actually has any lingering grudge against him). So if you filter out that whole affair with the power trip and the resulting embarrassment, it was a meeting with a bunch of fun Digimon friends, a romantic little castle, and a fun stage session where Mimi got to sing.

Jou’s refers to the Infinity Mountain incident in Adventure episode 7, and even from the get-go you can already see the level of rose-coloredness in Jou’s gesture -- in the actual incident depicted, Jou went to the mountain out of a sense of obligation and stress, and the initial climbing involved him having a bit of a bickering moment with Gomamon. But once they did get up there, it was actually their first time the two of them got to really “bond” -- and not only that, their encounter with Unimon had Jou even look on it with fascination, before the Dark Gear had ever come into play.

So in the end, Jou really would have found the incident enjoyable and worthwhile if not for that, and from there you can understand why it would be appealing for him to revisit that setting and finally get to have a bit of calm fun with Gomamon there -- especially since, again, the Neverland islands have a very strong preference for isolating the kids from others, and this was one of the few times Jou got to have a major moment of calm like this alone with Gomamon, with a slight reprieve from the constant feeling of stress and duty.

Koushirou’s most prominently resembles the “sealed room” in the factory in Adventure episode 5, and while Koushirou certainly continued to make a large number of exciting discoveries after that, this was the situation where Koushirou, with no one else but Tentomon to worry about in the immediate vicinity, got to have the largest sensation of “novelty” -- where he first came upon the fascinating discovery of data manipulating reality around him, and he actually got to see the world change around him by wiping things off a wall.

And, of course, there were other things going on like Tentomon confronting him with his first existential crisis, and how things quickly went south with Andromon...but we don’t have to remember that part for now, right?

An interesting thing about Koushirou: the circumstances of how he was “kidnapped” in the first place are actually somewhat obscured compared to the other four in this scene, since Menoa presumably needed him conscious in order to get his list out of him, resulting in his kidnapping scene also involving an emerging Eosmon and not having him be instantly taken the way we see Takeru and Hikari (more on this in the section below). It’s thus unclear whether he’d be in their boat had his position in Menoa’s plan not been unusual -- said memories in Neverland involved “gathering information and learning more”, something he still actively involved himself with even after the events of Adventure, and he’s also the first one to reach a forward-thinking mentality about the partnership dissolution phenomenon. Either way, once he was already dragged into Neverland, it’s natural that the place could find a good memory for him in the same way it did for the other kids who were “manually” dragged in, but the actual method of entry and whether Koushirou's post-Adventure life put him in a mindset similar to that of the 02 quartet (again, see below) is a bit ambiguous.

So here’s an interesting part about how the 02 quartet gets involved in this story: their own encounters with Eosmon happen during a part where the method of kidnapping has abruptly changed. As many have pointed out, this is also when the degree of the targets Menoa wanted had also suddenly escalated, because while her previous claims had involved the idea of kidnapping like-minded adults (who, indeed, were entertaining thoughts of nostalgia to even some degree), she was now kidnapping actual children, ones who weren’t even nearly at the point of the supposed drudgery of adulthood that Menoa claimed they would eventually have, and with her arrogantly deciding she knew better for all of them. The part that becomes particularly intriguing about this is that the exact same thing happens with Miyako -- she is explicitly stated to have connected her laptop to the Internet, resulting in an Eosmon physically emerging and chasing her instead of instantaneously snatching away her consciousness through a camera like her own fellow 02 group members Takeru and Hikari.

So in other words, the 02 quartet’s favorable position in this incident doesn’t just have to do with being lucky enough to have gotten Koushirou’s warning about the Eosmon early; they (or at least Miyako) also seem to have a certain degree of outright immunity to it, much like the young children who aren’t old enough to have nostalgia yet. (Also, keep in mind that Takeru was caught thanks to a security camera; “excess caution with electronic devices” alone wouldn’t necessarily have guaranteed their safety.)

Recalling that, for the most part, Takeru and Hikari are usually treated more like 02 group members in the context of this narrative yet are, in this one case, treated as being potentially nostalgia-prone, it stands to reason that the main difference between the two of them and their fellow members in the 02 group is the fact that Takeru and Hikari went on the adventure in 1999, and the quartet did not. So in other words, the reason the 02 quartet isn’t as prone to this is not so much that they’re fundamentally different-minded people, as much as they have a distinct lack of an experience they can be attached to the way the Adventure group is to their own 1999 adventure. (Remember that Menoa’s kidnappings work heavily on subconscious feelings; you can’t blame anyone for having these kinds of feelings no matter how much they’ve consciously learned.)

As I said earlier, it’s foolhardy to pretend that Adventure was all sunshine and roses, and, likewise, it’s also foolhardy to pretend that 02 was nothing but suffering for everyone involved. Both series involved a lot of balancing of funny, silly moments to be treasured as much as they involved stress (which is why people are so attached to both, after all). So the question is not so much how happy they were in their childhoods as much as the nature of what that happiness came from, and what relation it has to their current lives. And when you look at what experiences the 02 quartet had back in 02, you might notice a thread of the fact that it is significantly harder to romanticize the events of 02 than it is Adventure.

Let’s put it this way: Let’s say that the 02 quartet was kidnapped into Neverland and placed onto islands that fit Menoa’s view of happiness. What, exactly, would you pick from 02 itself that would work? What kind of “happiness” did they have back then that’s so romantic, so impossible to replicate now, that they’d want to go back to because it’s better than their lives now once you disentangle all of the bad stuff?

...Not much. Not much at all, actually. Hanging out in the computer room together? Doesn’t seem like they cared that much about the computer room part as much as the fact the others were there bantering with them (which would put a huge nail in Menoa’s islands mandating isolationism). Going out on a picnic together? No reason they can’t just go on another picnic again (and if the BD box is to be believed, that’s exactly what they did, and they even added Ken to it while they were at it). Hanging out with their Digimon in real life and doing silly hijinks? They’re...probably still doing that now, actually. Getting to find true happiness at a Christmas party? That’s a party from the real world (again, something they most certainly continued to do thereafter), one where the happiness came not from the romanticism of anything that happened to do with some adventure, but just the happiness of being surrounded by true friends, which, again, Ken is still clearly getting to do by the time of Kizuna.

Once you look at the circumstances of what the “adventure” of 02 was to the 02 group, you may realize that it doesn’t really resemble the traditional romantic image of an “adventure” much at all. Sure, they were blessed with being able to regularly go back and forth between the Digital World from the get-go, but it meant that -- especially without the time dilation in play -- the Digital World became much less of a picturesque area associated with a one-time memorable adventure as much as something they had to squeeze in their after-hours while juggling it with their school. The circumstances they encountered their Digimon and the Digital World in were at a point where it had a certain level of “mundane” to them, compared to their seniors; it wasn’t a “fantasy adventure in the Digital World” when so much of the story also revolved around real-world events as well, and you can’t really find many “mysterious fantasy” events in 02 that resemble much of those in Adventure. The closest might be...Daisuke seeing Numemon pile out of a vending machine in 02 episode 1? (Not very romantic.) Daisuke getting chased around by a Tortomon in 02 episode 22? (Really not very romantic.) Iori getting to tour the ocean with Submarimon? (Implied to more about relief from how much he was holding himself back than the uniqueness of the experience in itself.) Ken’s long-time-ago flashback from 02 episode 23 about meeting Wormmon for the first time? (Defeating a Gazimon is hardly that impressive; the important part was him bonding with Wormmon, which he’s...uh...still doing now?)

There weren’t any lasting relationships with Digimon friends like the ones in Adventure, maybe encountering some civilians once and not seeing them much again after that, especially since the lack of time dilation meant not getting to spend as much time visiting them much at all (think about all of the really fun experiences that the Adventure group probably had that weren’t shown in the actual Adventure TV series, just because it probably didn’t have enough drama that would make a good TV episode plot). This means that there’s very little, if at all, of 02 that represents something this group would want so badly to recreate that they can’t already do now; everything from back then was either something comparatively mundane, or something they actually would not want back. Unlike with Adventure, where a lot of the kids had irreplaceable moments that only happened to be spoiled a bit later, a lot of the “really awesome accomplishments” from the first half of 02 were explicitly against Ken, someone whom they’d probably rather not dwell on fighting again because of how much they love him now; many of those good memories are “retroactively poisoned” because of that, and it’s much, much more difficult to make a rose-colored version of those memories disentangled from the bad, because of how fundamentally intrinsic that retroactive poisoning becomes.

And, when you think about it, the mandate of “you have to be alone on your own island” would pretty much break these four in particular, especially since the 02 group is portrayed as the type to need mutual support more than anything else, and so many of the events that represent “happiness” specifically involved the happiness of each other being present. It’s not to say that the 02 quartet had no moments of happiness when alone with their partners, but, rather, being with each other provided so much more fulfillment to them that Menoa’s offer of a memory of their past that requires them to be alone probably pales in comparison to anything they could do now in each other’s presence. Maybe, like with the other kids depicted in these scenes, they could be buttered up with something nice if you successfully got them into Neverland, but it’s not like they have any real wistfulness about anything from back then to the point that they’d be subconsciously drawn towards it instead of having to be dragged in kicking and screaming -- and especially in the case of Miyako, the same one who managed to evade an Eosmon here, who was offered a similar “chance to be alone” back in 02 episode 49 and didn’t take very long to decide she hated it because of how much of her happiness comes from getting to be with others.

By the time of the end of Adventure, the Adventure kids’ ideal situation was to have a romantic and fun 110-year adventure with the sights and fun of the Digital World, with all of the weird fantasy surrealism and less of the world-saving, and that’s something they never got to have (and that Menoa was inherently offering them). By the time of the end of 02, the 02 quartet’s ideal situation was...to find a way to get back to normal life and hope their friend feels a little better, and that “ideal situation” is still persisting even into the time of Kizuna, so it’s hard to imagine they really want more than that.

And, again, when you extrapolate this into what Kizuna’s trying to say about real life, adulthood, and nostalgia: it is true that Menoa’s projecting a belief that absolutely does not apply to everyone. While it’s true that many people feel that childhood had a certain kind of magic that you can’t get back in adulthood, there are possibly just as many people who aren’t really all that nostalgic to begin with, either due to trauma or something about their childhoods being miserable, or, even in the lack of such miserable events, simply enjoying the added freedom and expanded range of ability that comes with adulthood to the point they consider it to be more than worth the tradeoff. The 02 group basically represents this crowd -- Ken’s life right now beats out his past in pretty much nearly every respect, and while there are certain concerns about not being able to meet up as often, they’re finding the same ways to do the same kinds of over-the-top hijinks they did back in 02, with arguably even more range now that they get to exploit Digital Gates to do world travel and act without worrying about their parents. They’re basically like the adults who see Menoa’s creed of “childhood is better because adulthood sucks” and go “sorry, can’t relate.”

That said, remember: this isn’t because the 02 quartet is somehow mentally stronger or anything, but rather just a byproduct of what experiences they've had and haven’t had. Takeru and Hikari’s position is unique here -- for all intents and purposes their mentalities are portrayed as closer to the 02 group’s, but they did still have the experience their seniors had and are thus still capable of being close to their position in this one regard. In the end, everyone is different, it’s no sin to have feelings based on those differences, and “being able to relate” to one’s position is also an important key here; because the 02 group’s position is so alien to Menoa’s, it’s unlikely they could have tackled her problems nearly as intimately as their seniors could.

What we learn about Menoa’s backstory establishes that she forced her vision of nostalgic happiness on everyone based on her own perception of her past in such a warped, rose-colored manner. She conveniently omitted or forgot about details such as the fact that her life as a “child” involved feeling ostracized from everyone and that she herself was guilty of neglecting Morphomon. Not only that, she herself claims that she’s the only one who knows what this feels like -- that nobody relates to her -- and thus, you can see that she came to her conclusion that her experiences are universal by the power of sheer extrapolation, hence why she thinks everyone inevitably loses their partner upon reaching adulthood despite pretty significant amounts of evidence to the contrary. (For all it’s worth, the fact that she still considers herself as having “become an adult” at 14 just because she got into university at that time is pretty conceited.)

Menoa’s existence as being so starkly in contrast to the 02 quartet’s is very likely because her entire character was built up from the ground that way -- her entire backstory of skipping grades into university is heavily based on 02′s initial development premise and Ken’s own backstory, meaning she explicitly represents the path that Ken and the other 02 kids chose not to take, and the timing of certain events in her backstory seems almost deliberately engineered to prevent her from witnessing some of 02′s important answers to Kizuna’s conflict, most notably her inability to witness the final battle and the important lessons everyone present learned about following one’s dreams without restraint, and how that relates to one’s partner. Menoa’s mindset is basically that level of incompatible with 02′s themes of “moving on from the past” and “not caving to arbitrary societal expectations”, to the point her character could only get to this point by going out of the way to exclude her from 02′s story and events, because she’s fundamentally built as a character who started off on a very similar path as them (getting to integrate her Digimon partner into normal life, having a similar backstory to Ken) before veering off on a very different one.

Moreover, about that backstory, and the reason why 02 was conceived as such a criticism of the concept of “skipping grades into university”: the concern that someone in this position will be kept from making any friends their age. Menoa puts the moment of “being with one’s partner” on such a pedestal and considers herself to be “the only one who knows what this feels like” partially because she has a fundamentally warped view of friendship itself. Even the Adventure group, which may not have had quite the absurdly tight level of bonding the 02 group had, still broke out of the illusion via Taichi and Yamato reaching out to them, and Taichi and Yamato giving each other mutual support helped them make the decisions they did in the movie. The movie is titled “bonds”, and “bonds” doesn’t just refer to those between human and Digimon partner, but also bonds between each other; Taichi, Yamato, and Sora slowly drifting away from the others at the start of the movie has very strong relevance to their respective existential crises, and the role that Taichi and Yamato play in supporting each other, and Mimi’s in supporting Sora in To Sora and even beyond that, say a lot as to how they’re already expected to be much better off than Menoa was.

It’s not that adulthood is inherent drudgery; it’s that Menoa’s own circumstances really are that warped to the point where she sees her very unusual experiences as fundamentally synonymous with how life is supposed to work in general. She was so obsessed with “being independent”, “being useful to the world”, and “being on her own” that she had no mentality of making friends or connecting to others besides her own partner, and once her partner disappeared, she seemed to make no attempt to rectify that. So of course her life in university following that ended up being not nearly as fulfilling as she’d hoped, since she was getting no real emotional support from anywhere, and, as 02 itself also drove home, apparent “approval from society” only ever makes you as “happy” as a Dark Seed-implanted child if you’re not also being supported by your loved ones in the process. Her adulthood sucked, and she decided that everything about her rose-colored childhood meant that childhood is fundamentally superior in every way, and thus decided that keeping everyone else in it would be “saving” them from the terror it involves -- even though (even if they’re not aware of the specifics of everything) the 02 quartet is not the kind to be able to relate to this at all, and, eventually, Taichi and Yamato, who do understand her position a bit better due to their own experiences, are able to get her to reconsider a little.

[redpandaramblings]

A Taste so Tempting- Yandere Fatgum x Reader

🔞DEAD DOVE; DO NOT EAT🔞

Content Warnings- Dark Fic, Cannibalism, Forced Cannibalism, Yandere themes, Mutilation, Body Horror, Amputation, Medical horror, Mind Break, Not SFW, Dub Con/ Non Con

18+ MINORS DNI

This was written for the Spud Corner collab, Blood. So sorry it's extremely extremely late. It's a little sick, a little twisted, but it this kind of thing is your cup of tea, hope you enjoy.

You knew he was there. It was easy to tell as the sounds of slurping and chewing filtered into your ears. You shuddered, biting your lip to keep from whimpering at the noise of him licking and sucking grease from his thick, meaty fingers. You hadn’t paid much attention to noises like that until a few months ago when a man you had thought was a hero had kidnapped you and brought you to this remote cottage. Now you dreaded them, feeling nausea and anxiety with every crunch and every smack of the towering man's lips.

“I know you’re awake, Poppet.” Taishiro rumbled from his seat close to you. “You’ve been asleep for so long, you naughty thing.”

You blinked slowly awake, knowing he’d anger if you tried to feign sleep. Your head felt like it was full of wool. What had you been doing before? You couldn’t quite remember. You turned your head to face your captor.

The wide smile that greeted you was unsettling. How had you ever found comfort in that wide display of gleaming teeth? A mammoth hand reached out and stroked your cheek, leaving uncomfortable greasy trails in its wake. “There’s my pretty girl. I love seeing your eyes on me.”

He reached out of your view, grabbing something and then bringing it to your lips. You opened your mouth dutifully, letting the chunk of meat be placed inside. You knew the danger in refusing.

“How long was I asleep?” You mumbled as you chewed.

The food was good, like it always was. Perfectly cooked, richly seasoned. You couldn’t place exactly what the flavor was at the moment. You couldn’t bring yourself to care much, usually. You wished you could say it tasted like ash, but it never did. You could never accuse Fatgum of not knowing how to create delicious food.

“Been a couple days.” He hummed, pressing another piece to your lips. “You gave me a bit of a scare, Dumpling. But everything is going to be alright from now on.”

You nodded as you opened your mouth again, letting him feed you. You closed your eyes as you tried to sort through your confused thoughts. A couple of days? Had you been sick? No… You didn't think so, anyway. Could have been an accident? But you were barely allowed anything that wasn’t absolutely safe. Something must have happened. He only kept you asleep like that as punishment. What was the last thing you remembered?

Oh.

Of course.

You had tried to escape.

You swallowed quickly, and choked on your food. You tried to gasp for air, coughing. Fatgum sat you up and began thumping you on the back until your coughing subsided. When the coughing stopped, he laid you back down with a concerned look.

“Hey, now, you need to be careful, Sugarpop! Chew carefully. Can’t have you hurting yourself. And shouldn’t waste such precious food, either. It’s really special today, after all.”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered.

He was in a good mood. That was strange. Usually after you misbehaved, the large man would growl and rage. You’d be locked in the cold, damp cellar to think about what you had done; until you got so desperate that you begged him to let you out. He loved it when you begged, after all. So why was he in such a good mood? You had done the worst thing you could have done. You had run. You had tried to leave him.

So why was he happy?

Why was he smiling down at you?

What had happened those days you had been asleep?

You looked at your captor, trying to assess. He popped a piece of meat into his mouth, moaning obscenely in enjoyment as he began to chew. There was an easy way to find out what was going on. Risky, but certainly would be the clearest answer. After all, despite all his sins, Taishiro had never lied to you. Taking a deep breath, you murmured quietly. “Tai?”

He perked up immediately, grinning brightly. He loved when you called him Tai, loved anything that made it seem like you two were domestic. “Yes, Sweetpea?”

“I… I was a bad girl. Why aren’t you angry with me?”

His gaze was soft as he cupped your cheek with a large, greasy hand.

“I was at first. But then I realized. I finally understood why you fought and tried to run. You didn’t trust me to take care of you, that I’d keep you safe. Now yeah, that made me upset, but then I figured it out. I realized how to prove I’d always take care of you, to show how good we can be together. And well…” He giggled, high pitch and off putting. “You certainly can’t run away anymore.”

Chills ran down your spine and bile tickled your throat. A chilling realization was coming to you. You slowly tried to sit up more to look down at yourself.

“Tai?” You whispered, praying to whatever gods who were listening that you might be wrong. “Tai, why can’t I feel my legs? What happened while I was asleep?”

“Well, sweetness. Hard to feel what isn’t there anymore.”

Numbly, you tugged off the blankets covering you. Your legs were gone. Mostly gone, your mind supplied morbidly. You still had cloth wrapped stumps that seem to have been cut off above the knee. You could barely process it. It felt like they belonged to someone else, like this couldn’t possibly be you. This couldn’t be your body. But the stumps wiggled when you tried to move them. Fatgum’s hand engulfing your thigh stilled your movements.

“Isn’t it perfect, Dumpling? I have a friend who was able to help me and get you fixed up right away. Now there’s no more temptation to run. No more worrying about being bad. You don’t have to worry about being a bad girl for me, because you won’t be able to get into trouble this way. I’ll be here as much as I can to help you. Sure, I’ll have to carry ya around a little more, but that was no trouble before, and you’re even lighter now. Besides. Doing this came with a few perks. I got to experience your sweetness in a whole new way!”

You could barely keep up with what he was saying. His voice seemed muffled and far away, as if you were hearing him from underwater. You kept trying to wiggle your toes. Like, maybe if you could just wiggle your toes, they’d appear again. You could almost feel them. If you closed your eyes, it was like nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong. Nothing except the hand on your thigh and the voice of your ear murmuring to you about how sweet you taste. What?

“I taste sweet?” You asked, managing to keep the hysteria out of your voice.

Fatgum moaned lewdly, giving your thigh a squeeze. “Darling, you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Juicy, tender, so incredibly succulent. It was all I could do to pace myself. I needed it to last. Don’t plan on ever getting any more, since you’re going to be a good girl now, aren’t you? But it’s so good to taste you like this, experience you like this.”

He reached down to the plate he had been feeding you from, popped a piece of meat in his mouth, and moaned again,his hips bucking inadvertently. He continued in a rough, breathy voice.

“You nourishing me like you? God, Sugar, it’s so amazing. You’ll be a part of me forever. We’re part of each other now. Oh, y/n, don’t you think you taste so good?”

He grabbed a piece of your flesh from the plate, warm, fresh, smelling wonderful and shoved it into your mouth. You chewed out of habit. The flavor was as good as it had been the first time you had tasted it. You tried not to think about what it was you were eating. Who it was you were eating. You managed to swallow. Your stomach roiled. You couldn’t vomit. He’d kill you if you did. You’d put your head between your knees but… You begin to giggle hysterically. You have no knees. Your laughter starts soft but quickly raises in pitch and volume. No knees!

Taishiro kissed the top of your head, nuzzling you.

“See?” He rumbled and stroked your hair. “There’s my happy girl. You’re so good in every way.”

He tilted your chin up and smothered your laughter by covering your mouth with his. He picked you up, placing you in his lap, even as his meaty tongue forced his way past your lips. He tasted like you. You tasted like you. You whimpered into his mouth, overwhelmed. Encouraged, he placed his hands on your waist. It was easier than ever before for him to manhandle you, moving you so that your panty covered fold rubbed over the obnoxiously large bulge in his pants. You didn’t fight it. What could you do, press your stubby thighs together? As if that would work. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling away from his kiss so that you could bury your face in his neck. If your eyes were closed, you could pretend this wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. This sick fuck wasn’t rutting against you. It didn’t feel good. You didn’t enjoy him treating you like you were his greatest desire.

Fatgum reached down again grabbing another chunk of warm, tasty meat. He popped it in his mouth, chewing a few times. He gripped your hair, pulling your head back just enough for him to slam his lips against yours, forcing his tongue and the warm, chewed, succulent piece of your own flesh into your mouth. Startled, near panicked, you tried to use your own tongue to push the meat back. All you did however was encourage the large man. Though it had never been your intention, soon the kiss intensified as the two of you passed the meat back and forth. The world narrowed. There was only you, and him, the movement, the taste. The fucking taste. Why did it taste good? Feel good? Why the fuck was it good?

Fatgum pulled away, leaving the piece of you in your mouth, and you swallowed unthinking. Dazed, you looked up at him, eyes half lidded. Your hips continued to rock against each other. His eyes were tender, but hungry as he smiled down at you. His thumb whipped over your lips, and you opened your mouth obediently. His grin grew. “Good girl” he murmured as he placed another piece of meat in your mouth. You moaned softly. You hated him. You hated what he had done, what he was doing. You hated his fucking smile, this fucking taste, the way your cunt was getting soaked from the steady grinding against his stupid huge cock. You hated how amazing it felt. With a groan, you leaned up, pressing your lips to his. He held you close with one arm, using his other hand to shove your panties off. They fell to the floor and you were pressed against him again. You tried to rut against him but it was hard to gain traction. Your stumps wiggled in frustration as you tried to gain more friction. Tai chuckled softly, reaching down. His greasy fingers found your clit with expert precision and your whole body jolted. He nipped at your bottom lip, teasing you. After months of being able to have you in his arms, he knew how to play your body like a fiddle. He teased you, gently rubbing the sensitive area around the clit before flicking it directly. The calluses on his fingertips added the perfect friction. He rapidly brought you close to the edge before slowly bringing you down again. You focused on the feeling. Whining, desperate. You didn’t want to think. Couldn’t think. You only could concentrate on the feel, the taste, the need between your legs. You trembled, wet and whimpering. This could continue for hours. But today… Today you needed the comfort of his cock rubbing your insides. The rumbling praise of being his good girl.

“Tai,” you panted. “Tai please, Darling.”

No name got him riled up more. It was easy enough for Taishiro to lift you up enough to unzip his pants and tug them and his boxers down. His cock sprang free. Long, and so terribly, wonderfully, deliciously thick. He didn’t bother to prep your sopping cunt before he started to push in.

Pain. Sharp, focused, burning pain where you were being forced open. This was what you wanted. No other thoughts could exist in this moment. Only this pleasure and pain and dred and acceptance. This was your life now. What else was out there for you? It was best to give in. Just give in. You rocked your hips, taking him in deeper, hissing at the burning stretch. His hands stilled you, petting your back and forcing you to slow down.

“There, now, don’t hurt yourself, Gumdrop. Let me take care of you. Be my good girl.”

You nodded, though you still lightly rocked your hips. Yes. Maybe… Maybe you should. Give in. He’d take care of you. Tai could be gentle. Could feel good. Did feel so good. You moaned when he bottomed out. It felt like he was deeper than ever before and you clung to him for comfort. Your grip tightened as he began to thrust. This could be so good sometimes. And… you liked when he called you good girl. And his. And you were his. You shuddered, arousal spiking at the thought. You were his in a way no one else had ever been, would never be. Tai groaned, picking up the pace when you tighten around him. “Like that, don’t you, good girl?” he panted. “Like when I fill you up, like when I call you my good girl. Gonna be my good girl from now on, won’t you? Only mine.”

You nodded as you were bounced on his cock. Every time he called you by that name, your pussy tightened and squeezed around him. He knew exactly how much he was affecting you. And you were so tired of fighting him. You wondered why you ever had.

“How about you cum for me, Dumpling? Come for me like a good girl, and I’ll fill you right up.”

You moaned and whimpered, beyond words and you fruitlessly tried to rut your hips. You were so close! Fatgum understood, kissing your neck as his fingers once again found your clit. A few firm strokes was all it took before your orgasm hit you. You clung to Tai, half sobbing as you came. It only took him a few more thrusts to follow you, keening and biting your neck hand enough to bruise as he came, pumping his large, thick load into your waiting womb. You both held each other, panting and quiet in the aftermath.

This is where you usually would fight. You’d scream and yell, hitting and kicking to let out your rage. But this time, the rage didn’t come. You were so tired of fighting. Fighting had gotten you nothing. You collapsed forwards, snuggling into Taishiro’s ample chest. He just wanted to take care of you, after all. Everything he’d done was for your relationship. He just wanted to take care of you. You should just give in.

Yes, you thought as he held you close, and lazily began to feed you once again.

Just give in.

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Sam’s Emotional Arc 1/3

I hated the finale immediately, but I’ve spent some time with it and talked to friends who loved it. I can see now what it was about, and I’ve come to appreciate the story they were trying to tell, even if I think it didn’t land right.

I’ve been told that my meta on this has helped other people come to terms with the finale, so I thought I’d compile it in one place from across various discord channels and twitter posts. If you are struggling with the finale, I hope it helps you.

Part of this actually started with a shit post. I was making a joke about Sam being psychic since he was scared of clowns when Dean died by one. I realized that may have been deliberate. I dug into the story more and now I’m convinced it was. Then I came across some excellent meta that fit with the themes I was finding and opened up the series even more for me.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it. First, Sam’s journey. 

Clowns pop up in s15 before the barn scene. In 15.01, which was written by Dabb, Sam is injured by a clown. Castiel is able to save Sam and heal his injury. The clown keeps coming after Sam, with Sam having fight scenes with the clown, while others attack the other ghosts. The clown is kicking the shit out of Sam again, and Castiel saves him once more. Sam is unable to fight off the clown on his own both times.

They run until they are able to escape outside a magical barrier. Sam turns to the clown and says, “shut up”. 

This is literally Sam running from his fears. On top of that, this isn’t just any clown, but the ghost of John Wayne Gacy, from an episode also written by Dabb.

Dean: A serial killer clown. I mean, this is, like, the best/worst thing that’s ever happened to you, you know, ‘cause you love serial killers, but – but you hate clowns.

Sam gets nervous and struggles with the lighter before he’s able to get rid of the clown, for now.

I believe this is a metaphor for hunting in general: it’s both the best of Sam’s life and also the worst. The clowns symbolize his relationship with Dean.

Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie was co-written by Dabb (see the pattern?). Sam’s fear of clowns was known since season 2. In season 7, Dabb explored where this fear came from.

On the surface, Sam’s fear is just because he found them creepy, but the episode explains that they actually come from Sam’s fear of being left behind by Dean.

This episode comes directly after an episode where Sam worried that Dean would get himself killed

Sam: Look... Dean, the thing is, tonight... It almost got you killed. Now, I don't care how you deal. I really, really don't. But just don't – don't get killed. Dean: I'll do what I can. Sam: Well, what's that supposed to mean? Dean: It means I'll do what I can. All right? You can shut up about it.

Sam is dealing with Hallucifer at this moment, but Hallucifer doesn’t really scare him. Losing Dean does.

Sam has a conversation with an employee about greatest fears.

Recognize the actress? She came back for s15 in 15.06. I don’t believe this was a coincidence. 15.06 featured Castiel helping a parent find their lost child in a season that features Castiel worried about losing Jack. Through his experience with her, Castiel confronts his fears and doubts and then returns to join in the fight against God. [I’ll touch on Castiel’s journey more in his chapter]

Sam’s greatest fear is losing Dean. There’s a lot in the series about how Sam felt lonely and abandoned for much of his childhood. A whole episode, Just My Imagination, centers around this. Sam hated when Dean went off on hunts without him.

source In The Chitters, Sam tells Dean how his fear of losing his family paralyzed him as child. It’s a story where an older brother dies and the younger brother never recovers from it until he’s able to lay him to rest (sound familiar???)

Sam: You know, whenever you and Dad used to leave me to go hunting, and I-and I wouldn’t hear from y’all for a while, I, um, I was always sure that some vamp or rugaru, or take your pick, I always figured one of them finally got ya. I tried to think what to do, you know, the next step to take. I was just lost. Dean: We came back, though, every time.

You might naturally think, “Wait a minute! Sam left Dean multiple times!” Honestly, this was something I had a huge issue with when watching through the show the first time. I didn’t understand Sam and hated him leaving Dean in s8. I was completely on Dean’s side at first. But, on multiple rewatches and talking to others, I’ve realized that when Sam left Dean, he was running from his fear. In this TV Guide interview, Jared perfectly sums up why Sam left in season 1; he couldn’t stand to see his family die. Dabb wrote Dark Side of the Moon along with a comic that explains why Sam left in detail. While the comic isn’t official canon, it shows Dabb’s thought process. In it, Sam sees his family as running towards a horrible end and can’t handle dealing with that.

Dean: So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it? Sam: No. Not normal. Safe.

There are many more points in the series where we learn about Sam’s fear of Dean dying. This would be 3948573945 pages long if I wrote them all out, so I’m going to focus on the key moments that loop back to this ending, but there’s so much more there.

If you are struggling with this and need more, please let me know and I can do a deeper dive into that subject. We first see Sam’s inability to let Dean go in season 1 when Sam refuses to let Dean die in Faith.

Dean: You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you? Sam: I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going.

Sam’s whole arc in s3 is him being unable to handle Dean dying. He wants to save Dean, but Dean won’t let himself be saved. This was what Gabriel was trying to teach him in Mystery Spot.

Trickster: This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go.

This is how Ruby gets under Sam’s skin and what gets him to start working with her. Everything Sam did was to save Dean. In s4, Sam’s arc is about him sacrificing himself in order to save Dean. He’s gutted from being unable to save Dean. In 4.12, Sam decides to drink demon blood in order to save Dean

Dean: [says that they will die early] Sam: Maybe we'll be different, Dean. Dean: What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life. Sam: What if we could win?Dean: "Win"?Sam: If there was a way we could just...put an end to all of it.

When Sam breaks out of the panic room, he’s suicidal. He’s determined to save Dean with his life as the cost he’s willing to pay. He didn’t think he would survive killing Lilith. He was committing suicide in that moment. The reason why Sam is so willing to sacrifice himself in s5 is because he has low self esteem. He blames himself for everything that goes wrong. In Sam, Interrupted 5.11, also by Dabb, Sam has a breakdown under the weight of his guilt. He hates himself and he feels his rage is out of control. In season 6, we see soulless Sam and, unlike souled Sam, he has no rage. Yes, he’ll kill when necessary, but he’s not angry. It was Sam’s fear driving his rage. He felt out of control of his life and let it lead him down a dark path. In season 7, he sees Dean heading down a dark path and he feels helpless to stop it. He worries about dragging Dean down and tells Dean to let him go. But, at the same time, he’s developing coping techniques. He’s starting to face his fears. 

And then Dean disappears and Sam completely falls apart. Sam didn’t have a healthy relationship with Amelia. They were two broken people clinging to each other. Sam and Dean struggle to reconnect after their time apart. There’s a lot of text addressing the horror of a partner dying and people trying to escape from it.

Mrs Holmes: He could see the end of my days were at hand, and... He had lived centuries all alone, but I don't think he could bear the thought of life without me. That's why he drove off that bridge. You must think I'm a monster.

In Hunteri Heroica written by GUESS WHO!?!? Sam finally acknowledges that he was living in a dream world with Amelia. He was running from his past. We see a flash back with Sam pressing on his scar, which he did to help himself distinguish fantasy from reality.

The episode is about a man refusing to engage in reality and harming those around him. Sam has a big confrontation with him

Sam: Look, it can be nice living in a dream world. It can be great. I know that. And you can hide, and you can pretend... all the crap out there doesn't exist, but you can't do it forever because... eventually, whatever it is you're running from – it'll find you. [CASTIEL appears to be taking Sam’s words to heart.] It'll come along, and it'll punch you in the gut. And then... then you got to wake up, because if you don't, then trying to keep that dream alive will destroy you! It'll destroy everything!

Likewise, when Sam was with Jessica, he wasn’t honest about himself. He was hiding from his family and his past. Running to avoid pain. Sam is avoidant in general. Not just in his relationship with Dean. When he talks with Rowena in 13.12 Various & Sundry Villains about his fears of Lucifer, he admits that he could talk about it with Dean, but he can’t bring himself to.

Sam: I’ve seen it too. What he really looks like behind – behind whatever vessel. It… Yeah, still keeps me up at night. Rowena: How do you deal with it? Sam: I guess I don’t deal with it. Not really. I mean, I pushed it down and, um, the world kept almost ending, so I keep pushing it down, and I don’t know. [stammering] I really don’t talk about it, not even with Dean. I mean, I could. You know, he’d listen, but… That’s not something I really know how to share.

In 15.20, Sam’s past is front and center. Literally. I know a lot of people found the Winchester family portrait odd and upsetting, but it symbolizes something I’ll get to in a bit. Instead of trying to avoid his grief, Sam has moments where he lets it wash over him. He goes and sits in the car. He’s no longer avoidant. He’s no longer running away. He’s letting his grief move through him. He’s literally sitting with it.

Soulless Puppy pointed out that the characters emotional arcs is similar to DBT. Please look through their awesome meta here.

Personally, I see them as similar to the therapy I do called ACT. Both are forms of therapy where instead of fighting against them, you accept painful emotions and allow yourself to feel them. If you don’t do that work, then you can’t stop feeling them and your fears/ghosts will always haunt you.  In Swan Song, Chuck tells us that “Dean didn't want Cas to save him. Every part of him, every fiber he's got, wants to die, or find a way to bring Sam back. But he isn't gonna do either. Because he made a promise.”  In 15.20, Sam initially didn’t want to let Dean go. He’s been refusing to do this since season 1. When he’s separated from Dean he lives a fake life or destroys himself/the world trying to get Dean back. There’s a moment in 15.20 where Sam looks at Dean’s guns. He wants to commit suicide, but he makes the choice to live. For the time in Sam’s life, he let Dean go and lived with his pain. He no longer ran from it. After Swan Song, Dean was unable to let Sam go. He wanted him back. After Carry On, Sam is able to do what Dean couldn’t do. He lives a life outside of Dean. What’s more, Sam has reconciled himself with his past and his family. It’s clumsy and I wish it were better shown, but having the family portrait and their parents in heaven isn’t meant to excuse the way Sam and Dean were raised. In order to move past the trauma of his relationship with his parents, Sam fully integrates them into his life. In Lebanon, Sam was able to confront and forgive his father. In doing so, he can also forgive himself. Mary asks for forgiveness too, and he grants it to her. He doesn’t forget what happened, but he’s able to move forward and leave the intergenerational cycle of violence. He’s able to raise his son, Dean, the way his brother should have been raised.

Happiness isn’t in the having, it’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

Cas said it. Dean accepted it. Sam lived it.

I can see why people see Sam’s life after Dean as unhappy. I hated it so much because I saw it as horrible and sad the first time through. I had to sit with myself and my emotions first. I think it’s because we’ve been told by society that we have to get rid of our grief in order to be happy. The finale was showing us that it’s possible to do the opposite. [Personally I think it would’ve been better had they showed more overtly happy memories, but many of my friends saw this straight away] When I began therapy, one of the first things I learned was that there aren’t “negative” emotions. When working with our kids, we call them Big emotions. In DBT/ACT, all emotions are treated as normal and natural. Grief, anger, sadness, etc, these are all normal parts of the human existence. We don’t need to run from them in order to have happiness. We can live with them. As interstitial said in our chats, “you can't change the past, you can only change your relationship to it. To accept that your past contained both love and heartache, to miss it, but also know you can do better; that's actual recovery, as good as it gets.” As Soulless-Puppy explained to me, Sam lived in duality. Dean was dead, but Sam lived. Sam was happy, but he grieved. Dean was with him in the watch and the car and his son, but Dean also waited for him in heaven. I hated the finale the first time I saw it, then next watched it with my boyfriend who loved it. As we were watching together and discussing it, I realized that Dean’s death scene wasn’t just about him, but about the show itself. 

Dean promising Sam that he will be with Sam in Sam’s heart is also the show promising us that they will never leave it. That’s why Alex kept posting “The end has no end.” Just as Sam carried Dean with him in his heart, we will carry the show with us. I hope this helps. It’s a terrible thing to feel upset about an ending and thinking of the show this way, recognizing these patterns, is bringing me peace. I still have issues with how it was written, but now that I see what they were doing, I wish all the more that they had the chance to do it right. Please share your thoughts and experiences. I love hearing different opinions. Next up, Dean. Then Castiel.

[finrelia]

Warm

Request: Yes! From @yanginthere​ (Request is too long to have in header)

Summary: You get a mild case of hypothermia working at noonans one winter day and Alex comes home to find you in bad shape. She comforts you, and a little bit of hurt/comfort occurs.

Warnings: Mentions of illness/hypothermia. Self doubt, depressing themes. Cursing. Hurt/comfort slightly.

Word Count: 1,709

A/N: I’m not as happy with this one as I wanted to be! But I rewrote it about three times before it was good enough to post! I hope this is alright! 

“Off to work already, Y/N?”

“You know me!” You say with a light laugh as you place a quick but loving kiss on your girlfriend’s cheek.

“Oh no you don’t” Alex says, as she wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you into a close hug. You smile sweetly and soak in the hug as much as you can. You look up into her eyes, and grin widely before grabbing your car keys off of their hook by the apartment door.

“You’ve been working an awful lot lately.” She says from behind you.

“You know how noonan’s gets around the holidays… Especially with Kara as out number one customer. But hey! It’s not like I’m out saving the world or anything!!!”

“Hey… Saving the world or not, It’s still cold outside, and I know the kitchen heater broke last week. Just- be careful for me, alright?” Alex responds, her tone more serious than you expected.

“I’ll be safe if you will, Agent Danvers.”

With one final firm kiss you say goodbye to your loving girlfriend and make your way out the door to head to work.

The second you left your apartment building, the shocking cold air slammed into you with a forceful gust of wind. You pulled on your coat, and wrapped your arms around your sides, sprinting on your tiptoes to your car. You pull hard against the wind to slam the door to your car as you sit down on the chilled leather. Your car sputters slightly before finally starting, the cold weather making it difficult to get going. It seems like it takes ages to heat up, but eventually you start to drive towards noonans. It’s only about a seven minute drive, and you take your usual parking spot on the street next to the staff entrance.

You wave hello to your manager and immediately get to work. It seems pretty okay at first, but the cold of the kitchen starts to get to you a bit, with your nose beginning to run, growing numb, and your fingers get sore. To make matters worse, it was an incredibly busy day, and you simply didn’t have time to take a break, fulfilling constant orders. It wasn't long before you developed a pretty nasty headache, and your coat simply wasn't warm enough for you.

Six hours later and your shift was finally coming to a close, thankfully. It was the middle of the afternoon, but it was so incredibly overcast it seemed like it was dusk. The cold outside was somehow worse than inside, and you said goodbye to your coworkers before beginning the walk to your car. You could barely walk in a straight line, the pounding from your head making it feel like you were about to be sick. You placed your hand against your left temple in a protective motion, stumbling as you walked. In the time you were working, it had begun to rain, which is NOT what you wanted to hear, seeing as your rickety old car tends to refuse to start when it gets frozen over.

Sure enough, the second you turn your key in the ignition, your heart sinks. You are met with a rattle, a grind, a rattle again, and then nothing. Sighing loudly, you put your head in your freezing cold hands, your fingers numb to the touch. You tried all day to keep your stress in, but things just keep getting worse. You sit there, and erupt into tears. You end up crying in your car alone for upwards of ten minutes, before deciding to check your phone, contemplating calling Alex. Shit… she’s on a mission with Kara today… You felt like your day was getting away from you, forgetting even the most recent conversations you had. You shake your head and decide to set off on foot to head home, hopeful to make it relatively quickly, despite the rain. You were just looking forward to curling up in a warm bed with Alex.

Low and behold, it starts to not snow, not rain, but SLEET as you get about four minutes into your thirty minute walk home. You bow your head and clench your jaw, walking quicker, willing yourself to make it. Your clothes dampen up pretty quickly, the cold of the water seeping into your skin, coating you uncomfortably. The sound of the rain on the streets intermingling with the honking of cars, falls on deaf ears, as you begin to experience some kind of cloud over your consciousness. Barely able to walk straight, you begin to walk at a slant, slamming your shoulder into a corner store brick wall, but this barely elicits a whimper out of you, almost entirely unable to process what is happening.

You must’ve walked through four red lights, and you’re lucky you weren't hit by a car, but you finally made it home. Mostly frozen water drips off of your pants and pools into your boots as your shaky hands fumble through your pockets to find your house key. Eventually you manage to unlock the door, but you are shaking so profusely that you are barely able to even turn the knob.

You figured you should probably get out of your wet clothes, but you were so tired… you just didn't have the energy to slip off your jacket. Actually, you didn't even have the energy to make it to your room. You place your hands on the kitchen counter and sway slightly, shaking your head trying to snap out of your freezing daze. The breath leaves your chest and the world goes dark around you as you collapse onto the tile floor.

“Y/N?” Keys jingle together as Alex walks inside, a tired smile on her face, relieved to finally be home to see you.

“Baby? Are you home?” She calls out, bummed at the thought that you might’ve gone out to get food without her.

She rounds the corner to walk into the kitchen, and her coat falls out of her arms as she sees your sopping wet form completely motionless on the floor. She rushes over to you, sitting on her knees, and takes your head in her hands, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Y/N?!” She says, panic clear in her voice. You murmur slightly in response, barely coherent.

“Oh my god you’re freezing cold.” She feels your cheek with the back of her hand. “Let’s get these wet rags off of you.” She scoops you up into her arms and carries you to the bathroom, slowly beginning to peel layer after layer of clothing off of your limp body. Your eyes flutter open and closed, occasionally letting out a slurred comment or two.She shushes you and cups your face in her hand.

Your eyes open slowly and you take in your surroundings, confused. You had no idea how you got home, or how you ended up wrapped in your favorite blanket with a warm cup of tea in your lap, but what you did know is that you were with Alex, and that she was taking care of you. You found yourself cozied up in bed, with your favorite show put on, and Alex holding you in her arms. She feels you slowly coming to, and rubs your arm saying: “Hey… how’re you feeling?”

“I- I’m okay I think…” You say, confused. “What happened?” “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“The last thing I remember is my car breaking down outside of work, and then this.”

“Your car broke down?” Alex says, sitting up to get a better look at you..

“Yeah I-” “Why didn't you call? You walked home in the rain, you could've died!” Alex sounded frustrated, but there was no anger in her voice, just concern.

“I didn’t want to bother you… you and Kara were out there doing heroic things and actually making a difference in society, I was just working in a stupid kitchen without a heater.” Your voice cracks slightly as you speak.

“Still no heater? I’m going to have some choice words with your manager…” Alex says more to herself than to you. “You could’ve called, baby. It doesn't matter what I’m doing, your safety is far more important to me.” She turns your chin up to hers so that you are staring directly into each other's eyes. You pull away gently, looking to your feet. Causing a small frown to show on Alex’s face.

“I don't like bothering you. I dont matter half as much as you do anyways, I mean, why would someone like you take the time to help me? I’m not even out of college yet, and I can't handle myself. You’d think a soon to be ER doctor could self diagnose hypothermia, but apparently not. I’m too busy bein-” You hadn't even noticed yourself derailing until you were already sobbing.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay.” Alex says as she pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you. You cry silently into her arms as she begins to think about everything you just said. You sit there together, shaking and sniffling until she finally pulls away and positions herself directly in front of you. She puts your face in her hands and locks eyes with you.

“You, Y/N, are far from the burden that you think you are. You are so incredibly important to me and to others. Never, NEVER think less of yourself. Especially in a situation where you could have gotten hurt. You can always call me, no matter what. Supergirl can handle herself. I love that you are strong. I love that you are hard working, despite those terrible conditions. I love that you put others first. I love that you care. I love YOU so incredibly much-” She stops, realizing that she just said that she loved you for the first time since you had started dating.

“Alex…” You respond slowly.

“Hey it’s okay. You don’t need to respond. I just want you to know that you matter to me.” She pulls you closer.

“I love you too” You mumble, cuddling up against her chest and closing your eyes. You were so comfortable in that moment. You were finally so… warm.

[huearmy]

Life is Beautiful - III

Summary: You are a glass half full person, your life motto is “Life is too short to… Insert something and anything here”. During your whole life you wanted something more, and even not knowing what it is, you put yourself to find out and get it, experiencing everything  brilliant that the world offers - within the measure of what is safe, of course. The curious thing is that your way of living ended up rousing  the interest of two vampires. One who sees beauty in everything and  loves to exist, currently working with suicide prevention; and another one who no longer sees grace in things, in that boring immortality that never ends, and only complains about the Netflix catalog all the time.

Pairing: Jimin x reader / Taehyung x reader.

Genre: fluff, angst, mature (not really a smut i guess?)…

Words:   8k+.

Rating: +18

Warnings:    As much as my writing is soft and light, and as these are not the main  topic of the story, treated in a non-descriptive way, there are sensitive themes from the beginning of the first chapter to the end of the fic that can trigger sensitive people, like depression, suicide, addictions in general - Jimin literally works at a suicide prevention center here.  SO PLEASE! Read responsibly, my intention when dealing with topics like  this is always 1) dealing with them in myself, as a way of putting out  part of my own healing process 2) generating identification in other  people, so they can go through the difficult time a little less alone.  THIS IS A STORY THAT SEES THE WORLD WITH POSITIVITY.

Chapter I Chapter II -

As soon as Jimin left for his date with you, giving one last thanks kiss on Taehyung's cheek, the house suddenly became darker and too huge, all the colors and brightness going away with Jimin's presence.

Even after a few minutes Taehyung was still on his spot in the middle of the living room, where he wished his best friend luck. What should he do now? How should he spend his empty time? He looked around, bored eyes not fixing on anything in particular. He slowly walked to the kitchen, just because it was the first door in front of him, and without thinking at all, opened the fridge. Since it was the refrigerator of two vampires, obviously there was only one thing inside, a few bags of blood labeled by type, and nothing more but empty space. It had been a few days since the last time Tae had eaten, and it was nowhere near as much as he was used to consuming, or as much as Jimin wanted him to take. He could feel his stomach empty, but he had no desire to take even a drop, almost feeling sick at the idea. He closed the fridge.

He sighed. A whine caught his attention to the floor, a tiny, cute, confused Yeontan looking up at him.

"You would never leave me, right?" Tae asked with a pout. The puppy just whined again. Tae picked him up, right in front of his face. "I need to find a way to turn you into an immortal creature."

With the little dog firm in his arms he got back to his room, seeing no other option on what to do than play video games till Jimin's return. His colorful neon set up welcoming waiting for him. Games are just uninteresting as series and movies, but at least playing online, with unknown, and often hostile, people, he feels a little less lonely. He has kind of some friends or so called, he doesn't really know any of them, never have met them in real life - he doesn't even want to - but it's been a while since they occupied an important part of Tae's existence, just for being his company.

He played with the loud people till around four in the morning, keeping himself silent in the call for most of the time, just hearing them teasing themselves and picking silly fights over nothing from time to time, talking only when someone talked directly at him. Then the mortals one by one go to bed, and he goes all alone again. Even Yeontan is soundly sleeping.

What should he do now? And why didn't Jimin come home yet? It had been more than ten hours since he left... He got into the bad habit of getting home in the morning, betting on running in the sun, almost killing Tae with worry. Maybe he had so much fun that he lost track of time, maybe there's another cat to find... But what if something bad happened? Should dates take so long to end? Should Tae call? He never calls, today shouldn't be any different... Maybe he would get in the way of something fun or important, the last thing he wants is to bother Jimin...

At the end Taehyung was standing by the front window, hiding behind the curtains, not moving a muscle, waiting, as usual. The street was empty, no light coming from the other big beautiful houses's windows, no cars or pedestrians to observe, yet that was what he was doing. The dark sky started to light up, his eyes adapting to it, the sun showing up painfully slowly. A movement caught  Tae's attention, his side neighbor taking the trash out, like he always do on tuesday and thursday, and in the other days the old man still wake up pretty early and sit at his porch to watch the sun rise, drinking coffee, with his old cat on his lap. Taehyung saw him in this routine with three different old cats at different times. The old man practically dragged the black bag of garbage and himself down the sidewalk to the dump, with short and slow steps he went. As always. Maybe there was something wrong before and Tae didn't notice, maybe it was because of the wet grass and mud formed by the storm the night before that they still didn't dry, but the old man fell a few feet from the curb, and for some reason he wasn't trying to get up.Like, he was moving in some way, but wasn't getting up.

Taehyung waited, not blinking an eye as he stared at the man struggling on the ground, immeasurable torturing seconds. Then the man stopped moving at all. And something kicked inside Tae. He didn't even think, he couldn't. He was unable to stop and reason about it, or control his own body... To look out the window and notice that the sun had risen enough to illuminate the front door that he was now opening at full speed. When the sunlight touched his skin, it burned like hell, forming instant painful blisters, but he didn't hesitate and just ran outside. Straight to the old man, catching him without stopping and then crashing their both bodies on the porch.

"Hey, are you ok?" Tae choked, feeling his lungs burning. "Sir!"

The man didn't respond, instead he was emitting weird choking sounds, heart not beating the right way. Even before his self isolation, Tae didn't have too many experiences with mortals than casually knowing them and drinking from them, he knows they are fragile, but he doesn't study or get interested like Jimin, he didn't know what was happening. Was this man having a heart attack? A stroke? What should he do? He doesn't know the symptoms of their diseases... Jimin would know... But now Taehyung was all alone and half of his mind was focused on his aching skin that seemed to be melting into the sun itself. With his trembling hand Tae reached to his phone in his hoodie's pocket, already dialing.

"What is your emergency?" A voice came from the other side.

"H-hello... Good morning... I..." He stammered. "My neighbor passed out in... infront of his house. He is not ok. He is old."

"Noted. Please calm down. Can you tell me your address so I can send an ambulance?"

"Sure..." Tae recited the address he only uses to purchase things on the internet. "It's a big white house, with a big porch."

"An ambulance is already on it's way."

"Thanks..."

Taehyung tried to sigh in relieve, but now he couldn't stop thinking about his own bad situation. The porch was providing shadow for him to hide, but for how much time? And when the paramedics would come and see him like that, what would they do? He didn't have the strength to run back home, the morning sun is not so strong, but exposing himself to it's light twice is suicide. And he couldn't enter the neighbor's house, there was no one to ask permission to. There wasn't no one to ask for help. He was going to die alone. When Jimin arrived from his date all he would be able to find would be Taehyung's ashes... Nothing more...

"Jiminie..." Tae was crying now, dialing the only number registered in his contact list.

Just one second - literally - later his friend's voice greeted him.

"Yes?" Jimin's voice came like a whisper, a happy, satisfied smile audible in it.

"Jimin? Are you coming home?" Tae tried to sound calm, so he wouldn't ruin everything with Jimin date experience and all, but his voice betrayed him, showing nothing but the fear he was feeling. He just didn't want to bother.

"Tae, what's wrong?" Jimin mirrored his feelings now. Tae breathed once, the air burning inside, and then practically vomited the words of nervousness. "I'm outside, on our neighbour's porch. I can't go back inside... The sun will reach me, Jimin. I don't know what to do." He was panicking, the world around him was spinning, getting him overwhelmed.

"Keep on where there are shadows no matter what. I'll be there soon. Don't cry ok?" Saying to him not to cry had the exact opposite effect. Once again, vampire's tear ducts are basically dry - especially after almost being charred, their bodies retain all possible liquid - but the other symptoms of crying happen, and it can be quite dramatic from the outside, as if they were faking it. But the sobs and the lump in Taehyung's throat were very real.

"Jimin?" He called,he could hear Jimin and another voice on the other end of the phone, but he wasn't paying attention, he couldn't, instead his eyes fixed on the line of the sun on the wall, approaching him and the faint neighbor. "Don't leave me alone..."

"Just go, your friend needs you."   Tae looked around, searching for a place to hide, finding nothing but the old man's rocking chair, it wouldn't do much to cover him from the sun, but was his only option. He crawled across the floor to the chair, knocking it over with a loud sound of wood hitting wood, and laid curled up like a ball behind it.

"Jiminie?" Tae voice sounded petrified, he really was. After decades not stepping out  the house, the very first time was at minimum trumatic. "Yeah? I'm here."

"Can we stay on the call till you get here?"

Taehyung was terrified. They both were. If he was going to die he didn't want to be alone. He was feeling so pathetic.

"Of course, my soulmate." Jimin said, as soft as he could. "I'll be there in no time tho, so it'll be a short call. Don't worry."

"Please, drive safe." Tae whispered.

Jimin laughed, not a really fun laugh.

"I always drive safe, Taehyung, safety first."

"Liar." Tae pouted.

"Well, how can I save you if I don't pierce some red lights on this beautiful not so busy morning?" Jimin questioned, trying to bring some humor to the conversation.

Taehyung sighed, feeling the heat of the sunlight approaching him.

"You won't be able to save me if you get in a crash... How much time?"

"One minute." Jimin was tense.

"Ok."

Coming from the end of the street, around the corner, the ambulance with the siren on approached and stopped in front of the house. Two people in paramedic uniforms ran towards the porch with their equipment, heading straight for the old man lying by the door. Tae hugged his legs against his chest to get smaller, hoping they wouldn't' see him hiding behind the chair and just do their saving people thing. "Oh my god! There's another person here!" The paramedic woman said in horror, probably shocked by Taehyung's very burned skin. "Sir are you ok? Can you hear me?"

Tae whined. What if they try to put him in the light?

Before the woman could even get close to him, another high-speed car came from the end of the street, screeching, and instead of stopping beside the curb, like the ambulance, the sports car driver climbed onto the sidewalk parking on the neighbor's grass. Jimin came out of the car covered by a big black umbrella, stride and the jaw tight. "Ignore our presence and continue your work helping the old man. You won't remember us as soon as we leave." Jimin ordered, his eyes shining colorful shades as the paramedics got hypnotized and obeyed him.

Half a second later he was beside Taehyung, replacing the chair, covering his friend with a long black coat.

"Taehyung... I'm here."

"Jiminie... You came."

"Of course." He helped Tae to sit up. "Can you get up?"

Tae nodded and with Jimin's help he got on his feet. In silence they both walked below the umbrella to the car, and then Jimin drove back to their underground garage a few meters ahead. If time seemed to run desperately fast before, now it has stopped completely, leaving everything in slow motion and numb. As the large door behind them slowly closed they were swallowed by the darkness of the garage, their silhouettes static and tense, the only sound being soft aching whines. Gradually Taehyung's senses returned, he became aware of his surroundings, the other cars parked in a row, the light from the corridor coming through the door's frosted glass, the scratching of Yeontan on the other side waiting for them, the smell of a mortal someone who he did not know impregnating the whole car they were in... especially in the passenger seat he was in. He hadn't died in ashes, burned by the sun in a minute or less, and he didn't know what to feel about it, whether it was relief or awe.

After a long time Jimin sighed and left the car, one second later he was beside the other to help him. None o f them talked anything as both of them got up to the second floor, or while the bathtub filled with water and music was placed in the background to fill the silence.

"Take care as you wash that, and drink..." Jimin whispered, seating beside the tube as Tae got in, holding out a pack of blood to his friend.

Tea hissed as the water touched this burned skin, aches staying on its surface.

"Thanks." He took the pack, his voice little. Another long silence. "Aren't you going to ask what I was doing outside?"

"It hasn't even crossed my mind yet, to be honest. I was too worried about you..." Jimin pouted, resting his head at the side of the bath, facing the ceiling. "Thinking about it tho, is pretty obvious... Just be careful next time you help someone, please."

"I'm not good at it like you." Tae took a sip slowly, he was waiting to be scolded by Jimin, for some reason. "Sorry to make you come earlier, this way... I didn't mean to screw your date..."

It made Jimin smile. "You are the most important and constant thing in my life Taehyungie." He took a deep, full of emotions, breath. "And you didn't screw anything, Y/N was super understanding even if she was just half awake, and I can just talk to her later and make things out. She knows you are everything to me."

Tae just humed.

"How does she know I'm everything to you?"

"I told her. Silly"

"Cool." Tae's lips formed a tin timid smile, that's a nice thing to hear after such a stressful experience after all. "Hum... Can you wash my back? I can't reach it..."

Jimin knelt beside the tube and took a wet towel, taking all care to not put too much strength on his hands as he rubs Tae's injured skin. Almost like magic - almost - the water made the blisters to dismantle, releasing more ash on the surface, yet it would take a lot longer to heal properly. The better was just feeding and sleeping now, at least que floor was full of empty packs, perhaps as much as a healthy vampire should have taken in two months.Taehyung hissed when a specific one stung more when it burst.

"I feel like hibernating." He yawned.

"You should. Take all the rest you need." Jimin agreed, reaching for the hand shower, to also wash Tae's hair.

Tae closed his eyes as the water ran down his face.

"Will you stay close... taking care of me?" He asked in a small voice.

"Of course. We are a clan, we take care of each other hibernating bodies." Jimin joked.

And Tae laughed. What a rare, beautiful sound.

"A clan of two." ________________________________________________________________

You were waking yourself up with strong coffee in the kitchen, in pajamas - not that you slept in them, right, but it was your usual home clothes -, considering if you should spend energie making pancakes or just go back to bed and procrastinate to do all the house chores and study, and just daydream about last night instead, soon it would be lunch anyways... Your roommate, on the contrary, was in full swing, walking around with the vacuum. All her energy was draining yours, all you wanted to do was lie down and stare out the window with silly smiles gracing your face.

You drank all of your coffee at once before opening the latest rental listings you favored - all in the same region you already live in, or reasonably close to college. None of them make your heart warm as your current home, but you can't do anything about it, you need an apartment you can rent.

"Baby Y/N, There's a package for you down stairs." Lydia entered the kitchen.

"For me? I didn't order anything." You crooked your head in confusion.

She disappeared for a second on the corridor, then got back.

"I'm pretty sure it is for you... I'll get it for you." She smiled.

"Thank you, Lydia." You waved at her, calling her by the name she chose to herself inspired by the Beetlejuice movie.

Not wanting to be a vegetable all day, you got on your feet to wash your mug and then start your day properly. You have laundry to do, tons of assignments to catch up, and a new home to find. Maybe you should search for tiny student studios, you could live in just a claustrophobic room and bathroom for sure...

"The delivery guy was super cute. He told me it's a surprise someone sent you, that's why you didn't know about it."

"What the heck..." You laughed, feeling your heart skipping a bit.

Lydia placed a brown paper bag on the counter, clipped to the top of the package was a handwritten note in a letter you don't know, probably from someone at the establishment who sent it. You picked it, and as you started to read, a smile grew on your lips.

I'm still sorry we didn't have breakfast together, to make up for it I sent this little treat, I hope you like it, Sweetheart. - Jimin.

"No way, that's so sweet." Your roommate commented over your shoulder, where she read the note too, taking advantage of being much taller than you. You opened the package to find a beautiful slice of cake, it looked delicious. Apparently Jimin found the ultimate path to your heart. The part of you that like to be spoiled was dancing in happiness.

"You didn't tell me how the date went yesterday, but it must have been good..." She took the restaurant brochure from the bottom of the bag. It was an expensive establishment. "We did a lot of fun things..." You said with a smile with double meaning. "I'll eat this in my room! Bye!"

Said that you took the cake and ran back to your room on your tiptoes.You put it on the desk and took a selfie smiling beside it.

You: Thanx! <3 <3 <3

You sent the selfie and waited, unpacking the plastic fork that came with it, ready to taste. The reply, however, came faster than you expected.

Jimin: Can I call you now?

Could your heart burst even more? Instead of replying you called him already.

"Hey, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" Jimin's sweet voice said.

"Like a baby. Thanks for the cake."

"Did you like it?" He was expectant.

"I don't know yet..." You were trying to open the plastic packaging with one hand, and failing miserably. You couldn't hold a self pity laugh to escape. "Just a sec."

You put your phone down and opened the cake packaging and taking a bite, a delicious bite. Still chewing you got the phone back at your ear.

"I like it." You decreed with your mouth full.

"Good." Jimin's voice dropped an octave, and it took him a while to continue. A very low music played in the background of the call. "You're not mad, are you? Because I ran out this morning..."

To be honest you were a little bitter, yes, at first when you woke up in the empty bed you didn't remember talking with Jimin earlier, the memory came to your mind just when you were brushing your theet minutes later, but because of the reason presented, and because Jimin didn't show signs of being a guy just interested in having sex with you and then disappearing right away, you pushed the feeling aside and gave the benefit of the doubt. He gave you cake!

"Not at all, Jimin." You smiled, so he could hear it in your tone. "How is your friend? What happened?"

"He got burnt... While trying to cook. Boiled oil." Jimin faltered. "He will be ok in two weeks."

You got a seat on your bed.

"Oh. It was bad then." You never had worse burns than sunburn for not using sunscreen, the kind that peel off for days afterwards, so you couldn't even imagine. "Tell him I wish him to get well soon."

"I'll tell him. He is a baby when he's not well. I already took two week out of work so I can take care of him properly."

"Two weeks?" You tried not to pout. You wouldn't see him at work for two weeks, if you would see him at all.

"Or until he tells me he needs me." Jimin didn't notice your swing of humor. "So I was wondering, since I won't be seeing you at work... What do you think about me picking you up at the end of your shift to take you home? So we see each other as usual and you get home safely, and faster too."

You were not expecting this. "Jimin, you don't need to... No need for you to wake up late at night because of me..."

"I've traded the day for the night for centuries now, sweetheart." He laughed "I won't be sleeping at this time, it won't cost me anything to pick you up. On the other hand, I'll be able to see you."

If before you were a little bitter, now you were just sweet.

"We can also hang out another time... If you're free." You suggested. "Is that proposal to meet your dog still standing?"

"Of course, sweetheart. We can appoint that."

"Nice..." You look around, searching for something to keep the conversation up. You were not fast enough..

"I'll turn off. Ok?" Jimin said.

"Sure. I have tons of clothes to fold..." You let a self mockery laugh out. "Till soon."

"Bye bye."

He was gone. And you were alone with your expectations and a piece of cake. Still, your whole mind was full of Jimin to think of, so you fought your will to spend the day in bed after a long and hectic week, and a long and fun night, and got up to do your chores, putting on the headset and playing on the list of lively songs to tidy up the house. Is a super fun playlist you have, would it be nice to send it to Jimin? Maybe you should make a playlist for him... Yeah it would be nice. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin turned off the phone and looked at Taehyung's sleeping face. After the bath, he made his friend drink some more packs before putting him to bed, and only after he promised once again not to leave Taehyung alone, that he finally closed his eyes and let the deep sleep take him. Hibernation is to make the vampire stronger, so that they can heal from wounds or even emotional trauma, to rest fully as almost no other creature on earth can... But it is also the most vulnerable moment for them too, so great clans have great dungeons very well kept. Now, these two young vampires only have each other.

Tae's skin was full of round spots the color of recent burns, a pale pink, not pretty, even if the boy himself is the most beautiful creature. His eyebrows were still tense, as if he's still afraid. "I'll be here when you wake up, silly." Jimin massaged the center of his forehead lightly, trying to make him relax, and brushing his hair out of his face. "I have nowhere to go."

At the very beginning, Jimin was alone, since his first memory. All by himself he lived as a wanderer. Until that man came and offered to take care of him, turning him into an immortal, in return all Jimin needed to do was call him a master and be loyal. There were others besides him, a girl very much like the master, a concun lady, a tall woman with long hair, a man with a serious face. The master called everyone a family, each had his role, as a joke, Jimin was the eldest son... Still, he was still alone. He never bonded with any of them, even if he tried.

One day he just walked away, all by himself, as a wanderer. The world was beautiful to see, to know about, to experience, even if all alone he would be happy living like this. He traveled and visited places he didn't even know existed, even after becoming a vampire the world was too small for him at first. Then he started to expand this world. Decades after his emancipation he met Taehyung on a train. The boy was a newly transformed vampire, lost, not knowing what to do or where to go, scared with all things that happened to him without warning. Unlike Jimin, who was a planned transformation, Taehyung had been an accident by a very inexperienced and foolish vampire, who didn't even see that his prey was not dead when he ran away. He was dealing with everything alone.

Jimin offered to take care of him, in return Taehyung should be his friend. They were the cure for each other's loneliness, and nothing in the world is more important than that.

So, for hours, lying next to his sleeping friend, Jimin stayed, and stayed. He would move from there only when the bloodthirsty sink in - or when Yeontan needed food etc. Never getting too far from Tae's room. ________________________________________________________________

Two days went by till Jimin felt his throat dry and stomach hurting and got down to the kitchen. The fridge was empty, literally, all packs ended after the incident. "I need to get more..." Jimin muttered to himself. "Dog food and snacks are also running out... And I could buy some... I'll make a list."

He pulled out a stool and sat down at the kitchen island, and opened his notes. Messages of yours popped up on the screen. You: hey. I wanted to make a dad joke.

You: about being tired

You: cuz im tired af

You: but im toooooo tired to think

You: [image.jpg]

Jimin opened the image of you with a sleepy face hidden by your hair and the hood of your hoodie, while you turns over a can of energy drink in a coffee cup. It was a cute fun photo. Since your date you both have been texting each other nonstop, as soon as you are awake and until you go to bed, your fun photos and not so fun jokes making him feel less lonely or bored or sad or weird. Jimin: I don't think this mixture is very healthy.

You: probably. but i didnt sleep.

You: tday is my shif!!!

You: i need to stay up :(

You: [image.jpg]

A photo of you in dramatic despair.

Jimin: I'll pick you up. Ok?

He put the phone down and stretched. Jimin is used to interacting with people every day, and having Taehyung when he gets home, and the last few days without that was enough for him to feel the change and be uncomfortable with it. He is a very friendly individual who needs other's presence, anything he has to do at home is too boring when there's no one to appreciate it. He likes to dress up stylishly to just go out to walk, just to feel handsome and gorgeous. Now he was bored. Still the idea of going out, letting Taehyung alone and unprotected, even for five minutes, was eating him inside.

You: r u sure?

You: you don't need

You: i said dat already.

Jimin sighed.

Jimin: Yes. I'm sure.

Jimin: I want to see you.

And he needed to get blood too. All he wanted you to say was something to motivate him to get out of house, or else he would be in this deadlock, not knowing what to do.

You: i want to see you too

That will do. Jimin's smile got wider.

Jimin: Then there's no reason to not give you a ride today. See you later, sweetheart.

He left the conversation with you and went to another whose contact was without a name or photo to identify. Jimin: I'm going to pick up my orders today. Please get everything ready.

As usual no answer. Jimin got back at writing down his “grocery” list, consisting of things for dogs, personal hygiene and cleaning products. ________________________________________________________________

Jimin finished dressing and looked in the mirror, beautiful as usual, but not feeling as good as always. He checked all the windows and doors in the house, to make sure they were tightly closed, emphasizing those in Tae's room. He checked if there was water and food for the doggie, and replaced the pee mat with a new one. Everything was in order, but he still felt anxious when he kissed his sleeping friend's forehead before leaving the house. "I'll be back soon... I'll just pick us some food." He whispered, feeling bad for half lying to Taehyung, even if he was unconscious, and feeling weird  about the idea of admitting he was leaving to also see you.

He left, letting the room's door open so Yeontan could enter freely, and went to the garage. He still hadn't taken the time to clean up the ashes from the burnt skin that was left in the seats of the car he was using, so he passed by it, choosing another one, a model not so sporty, but equally expensive.

The streets were silent and empty, as the clock showed it was three in the morning. The only real movement he saw was of bars and clubs, as he crossed the center of the city. One or another homeless man lying under a marquee, with his old blanket and cardboard protection. In other circumstances he would stop and interact. He tried to focus only on the music playing on his phone, his favorite among those on the playlist you sent him.

Jimin finally arrived at his destination, parking in a vacant spot in a practically empty parking lot, in front of a private hospital. He wore a shoulder bag from the back seat of the car, and bypassing the front door of the emergency area, he entered through an exclusive entrance for employees. No one would see him or notice his presence. Having done this hundreds of times and knowing the way by his hand, Jimin guided himself through corridors all the same and antiseptic until he reached a pair of doors with a "Blood Bank" sign on them. "Good night. I have an appointment." He politely said to the nurse at the front desk. "Is Seokjin here?"

"Good night. Yeah, is his shift today." She held out a key to him, sleepily looking up. She was a human, but she knew what he was and why he was there for.

"Thanks." He went through the corridor behind her, passed by the lab and the blood donation collection room, and called the elevator at the end. The only option to go was the underground. Six seconds and he was in a very clean room with a too white illumination. There was no one to be seen beside metallic cabinets and refrigerators, and also an empty metal table.

Jimin waited.

From a heavy metallic door came a man. A really handsome and gracious vampire in resident doctor uniform. As he saw Jimin an enormous charming smile spread on his face.

"Oh, you are early. I was  finishing to separate your order." He sang.

"Hi, Jin. Anything special today?" Jimin put his bag on the table, and his hands on his pockets.

Jin clearly noticed his bad mood and tension.

"Not really, there's a lot of O+ and some A+. We haven't had many different donations this past week."  Jin cruzou os braços. "But as usual I kept the ones with the most delicious smell for you, the very healthy ones. As you and Taehyung are picky eaters."

"That's why I only negotiate with you."

Jin smirked and left the room with the bag, back through the same door. He used to help young vampires, teaching them how to hunt properly, as the centuries passed he started his little business of blood selling, good origin, discreet and without victims. Despite working directly with customers at the local point, his scheme is huge, practically a monopoly.

Jimin looked at his fancy wristwatch, you would be out of your shift in a little bit more of half an hour, and he should stop by the grocery store in the way.

Jin came back with the bag obviously full now.

"Everything is sealed and refrigerated but put in the fridge as soon as possible." He said as always. "And send my kisses to Tae, he doesn't respond to my messages for days now. Sometimes I have time to play with him."

Jimin considered telling Jin about Tae's condition, but opted for not doing it. This issue was something for the two of them to deal, and only them.

"I'll tell him. He loves playing with you on call."

Jin noticed Jimin's hesitation.

"I know. Bye." He didn't comment anything about tho.

"Bye, Jin. ________________________________________________________________

You like your job, you really do. Is something you feel needed as you do it, powerfull, helpful. Is something you believe in. But now, after a whole day deprived of sleep, full of stress on college, not finding somewhere to live next month, and mostly, after the last call - a situation you want to forget - you are destroyed, Crying pathetically in the bathroom was the most coherent thing you could do. You just hoped the mental breakdown would come in a place other than the office bathroom, and preferably it would be at home, where you could cry yourself to sleep in your flower pajamas, hugging your stuffed dolphin.

You stopped to wash your face and tried to breathe calmly. It wasn't the end of the world, you can handle this. Your supervisor already released you a few minutes earlier - because you were no longer in a position to work - so all you had to do was gather your stuff and wait for Jimin to pick you up.

As usual, your heart accelerated just thinking about seeing him again, especially now that you are a thing, this feeling compared to anxiety and stress is just divine. You: i'll wait at the lobby.

You: was released earlier today

You threw some notebooks and pens into your backpack and locked your personal locker before checking your belongings again - be careful is never too much - and went down the hall to the stairs. Jimin: No need to wait. I'm already here.

You almost jumped the last stair steps to the ground floor, passed by the concierge's empty space behind the counter, and before running out, checked through the glassy door if you could see Jimin or his car. At first you didn't find him, and was about to text him again, but then he lowered the window glass and you can see him in another car, different from the other night. You gaped at him - you're a very impressionable countryside girl - and got into the passenger seat.

"Good night, handsome." You said, putting your heavy backpack on the floor between your feet.

"Good night, sweetheart." He lost no time and reached to peck you in the lips, slightly holding you chin with his fingertips. The butterflies in your stomach were crazy. He studied your face closely. "You look dejected, did something happen?"

His care made you smile.

"Stressful day, lot of little things. It got hard on me today, but just it." You shrugged, an amused tone in your tired voice.

"Want to talk about it?" He cupped your face with both hands. You did the same to him.

"Honestly I want to sleep." You giggled. "What about you? You don't look the best either."

He sighed. Your care made him happy too.

"Just feeling lonely and stressed too." He licked his lips, thinking what he could or could not say. "I don't like to be trapped at home. I need to take care of Tae, but he is...  not well to make me company, so I'll be lonely till he is ok."

You looked confused but tried to understand, choosing not to ask any more questions. Jimin didn't quite explain what happened to his friend, but it seemed like something serious, and if he didn't want to give you details, you wouldn't insist. "That's sad. I hope he is ok soon." You timidly pecked him, hoping this would make him feel better.

It worked. With a grin Jimin pulled away and started the engine.

"There is something I can do?" You asked, still wanting just to be sweet to him.

Jimin made thinking pout, and you wanted to take a picture of it, not fast enough.

"Spending time with me would be awesome." He answered, making you hum. Your routine is so busy and hectic that having time to see your friends is always a miracle, because you either have work and college stuff or you just want to sleep. You started to count on your fingers what your next break is so you can hang out with him. He continued, however, already having his own idea. "Why don't you come to my place to sleep with me?"

Your chin dropped, but it wasn't what you first thought.

"You want to sleep and I want company. If we cuddle it will be the best combination of our necessities being solved." He proudly smiled.

A soft smile fell into your face as you melted. Life is too short to deny cuddles with the guy you like on what you’ll now call your second date.

"Sure."

"Wait, really?" He looked at you with round happy eyes.

"Yeah. Of course. Just borrow me a pijama or something."

To get out of the way of your place he turned the wheel abruptly to enter a return that he was going to miss one second later, crossing all the lanes of the empty avenue. For a second you got startled but then you were giggling at how excited he was at the idea of taking you home. Well, you were excited to take him home too, nothing more fair. As you moved away from the city center, to more noble areas, full of beautiful houses and buildings, you started to expect that any one of them would be JImin's house, but he just kept driving, until you were no longer exactly in the city, and some mansions started to appear in the landscape. Looking at these huge, clearly expensive homes, you wondered how many bathrooms each has. Jimin, on the other hand, was considering what to do to feed you and make you comfortable, slightly freaking out because there's nothing to eat either in the fridge or in the cupboards other than a box of cereal he bought to win a collectible gift. Did he need to do something to make you feel more comfortable? He never received visits at home... "I need to tell my roommate and my mom that I'm not spending the night at home..." You murmured to yourself.

"Your mom too?" Jimin frowned. "Doesn't she live far away or something?"

You smirked looking at your phone.

"Our city is four hours from here, but I always ley her know where I am. So she is not worried. Besides, we talk all the time anyway..." "Oh." He thought about it. "You two are good friends."

You nodded.

"In the way of moms and daughters." You noticed the car was slowing down.

"Can I send her a photo of yours? Just so she knows your face?"

"Women have to be careful, right?" He commented, thinking that it is useful to know the face of the man that your daughter is seeing if something bad happens. He read a lot of things about it on twitter, and being a vampire himself he knows how bad things can happen too.

"Yep." You made a face. "But I want her to see how hot you are. She asked for a picture before but I didn't have a good one."

Jimin was between blushing and smirking. But vampires can't blush because the blood doesn't circulate, so you didn't see that reaction, just the burning look he gave you from head to toe. The butterflies in your stomach exploded and died. Before you could take the picture you noticed that you were now parking at a garage, and your chin dropped  at the sigh of six more cars - seven in total, counting the one you guys were inside. The garage itself was bigger than the apartment you currently live in. Just the idea of so much money intimidates you a little.

"Take a selfie, then." Jimin passed an arm around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Ok." You did as said, the flash illuminating the inside of the car. "You are also photogenic."

"And you are beautiful." He looked at the photo with a cute smile. "Send it to me too. Come."

He left the car and you followed him closely behind, he carrying your backpack for you. He took off his shoes to get in, and so did you, wearing the pair of cloth slippers he offered you. You grabbed the sleeve of the black blouse he was wearing, despite the low light available looking at the whole house over his shoulder, the hallway, the living room, the stairs, everything huge and spacious, and you noticed too, with a very masculine yet artistic decoration. Definitely for you, only two people living in this whole space is strange. In your family you are in six occupying a much smaller house. Whas that a grand piano?

"It's a nice place." You thought you should say something. "Cool design."

"Tae is responsible for that. He's a very visual person."

"I see."

He took you to the second floor, straight to his room. He dropped your thing on an armchair and looked around, expectantly. It was cute, there were some plants and drawing like you sometimes see him doing at work, an ukulele on the wall... It was as you could imagine his room would be.

"I don't have a clue of how to make you feel comfortable... What should I do?" He was honest.

You smiled sweetly and took his hand on yours, and he knew if he had a beating heart it would have stumbled at the sigh.

"I'm ok. Comfy clothes to change would be nice tho."

He kissed your forehead with a grin.

"I can manage that." And he measured you from head to toe again, now really to get a sense of the size of the clothes he needed to get you. And then left through the pair of the closet's doors.

As you waited you kept looking around and took a seat on the king sized bed, you were tired after all, feeling your eyes heavy and feet hurting.

"Jimin where is the bathroom?" You barely articulated the words.

"What?" Jimin came back with some clothing in hand.

"Bathroom..."

He gave you a fondly look and deposited his clothes - a t-shirt slightly bigger than you and a soft fabric shorts that seemed to fit you - on your lap.

"Next door on the left, near the stairs to the attic." "Thanks." You picked the clothes and your toiletry necessaire and crawled out into the hall.

On the way there was only one door on the right side of the hall, which you hadn't noticed the first time you passed it. A door ajar with an ambar lamp light coming from inside. Without thinking too much you stopped to look and saw in a bed who you imagined to be the friend, Taehyung, sleeping in the center of another big bed. He looked like those illustrations of Snow White in the crystal coffin, beautiful, flawless, but pale as a corpse, the face emotionless. He looked so unreal, felt like if you touched him he would vanish away like a dream. You don't know how long you were looking at him, a few meters away, but you only managed to look away when your heartbeat became too loud in your ears. And only then did you realize that you had walked a few steps towards him. You hurried to the toilet and closed the door behind you as if something was chasing you. Looking in the mirror, you couldn't name what this feeling was. More than quickly and still shaking you changed, washed your face and brushed your teeth, and to go back to Jimin's room you were with his head down. He was already in bed waiting for you in a pair of silk pajamas, and frowned when you walked in. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope." You denied it too quickly, embarrassed to say something like 'I saw your sleeping friend in the other room and for some reason it made me nervous'. Then you smiled shyly and climbed into the bed. "Excuse me."

Jimin interpreted your fast heartbeat as shyness and pulled you close as soon he could reach you. You snuggled into him too, and your eyes felt heavy once again, the smell of him calming and slowing you down. Before you finished settling into a comfortable position you were asleep. ______________________________________________________________

Then you had your cute cheesy morning with Jimin, as you wanted. He was with his eyes open when before you, holding you tight as he scowled through his phone behind your head. You looked up and the first thing you thought about was how unfair life is. In addition to the slightly messy hair, Jimin was beautiful as always, without the sleepy face or puffy eyes of someone who just woke up, it gave you a mixture of emotions of ingenuity and admiration. You sure looked like a withered dumpling.

"Goomorning."  You murmured against him. "What are you doing?"

"We have no food, neither me or Tae cook, so I'm ordering you breakfast. Did you sleep well?" He kissed your nose, as he added croassaints to his order - he couldn't let you enter the kitchen and see all the literally empty cabinets, the only exception being a very suspicious bag, full of blood bags, inside the fridge, that he put there yesterday without you noticing, using his superhuman speed.

"Babier than yesterday." You reached for your cell phone too. "Shit, I have a seminar about neuro-physiology in fifty minutes... Where's a bus stop nearby?"

Jimin looked at you confused, for not understanding the reason for your question right away and then for having no idea what to answer. He doesn't take a lot of buses to know where they pass. "Don't worry about it, I can call you a car. And so it's time for you to eat without haste." As much as you enjoy being pampered and cared for, you are the type of person who feels guilty when others do it in excess, especially when they spend money on you. And you're starting to feel that way with Jimin. On the one hand you want to accept everything he may have to offer since technically you have no reason to deny it, but on the other hand your paranoid mind can think of several uncomfortable reasons. Your insecurities also arise to say that at some point a handsome, rich guy with two degrees like Jimin will eventually be bored with you, a poor, broken, screwed to finish your first graduation, so why not enjoy it while it lasts? Damn, that also makes you very guilty... That's why you only have poor and fucked up friends like you. Jimin raised his eyebrows at you, and then you realized that you hadn't answered anything yet, and just debated the subject a lot inside your own head. "Ah... Ok. Thanks." You stuttered. Your brain just wasn't about to form full phrases.

He holds you tighter.

"Don't be shy. You are keeping me company, the minimum is to guarantee your transport." He took your face in one hand and kissed you slowly, lazily, and you returned it with a sigh. With his lips still on yours, he whispered in a hoarse voice that made you shiver. "And if I don't treat you well, you won't be back... And I want you to..."

You were about to answer the flirt, but a sharp bark interrupted you.

"Puppy!" You sang, rolling to the edge of the bed to see a little dog with pretty expressive eyebrows barking and jumping beside it.  By the power of all the cute things in the world you spoke in baby voice. "Own... cute. Hi hi, buddie." "Come here, Tannie." Jimin whistled.

The puppy got rid of your  anxious for pets hands and ran to the other side of the bed, and appeared a second later, jumping onto the bed and over Jimin. You rolled back, also leaning on Jimin to look the other way. "Do you have a ladder for him to climb on the bed?" Jimin smiled with your enthusiasm about it. "The whole house is adapted to be accessible to his little tiny legs." He said. You put your hands on your chest. "Oh, no. My heart." Jimin sat up to peck you again before getting up, stretching slightly. "He wants to eat, otherwise he wouldn't be here. Just a sec." He picked up the dog and left.

You pouted for not playing anymore, but you understand, you were hungry too, and you had to get up and get ready soon to go to college, or else you would get late. You jumped out of bed, got your things and barefoot even ran to the bathroom. The door to the other room was now closed, yet you felt a shadow of the feeling of the night before and went by it as quickly as possible, without looking in the direction. After that, you took a quick shower, ended up borrowing a t-shirt from JImin, because to wear the same shirt from the previous day was out of the question, you had a great brunch from a expensive bakery that you had never heard of, played a little - too little - more with Yeontan, and went to college by car, something totally new to you. The rest of the day you were chased by the desire to see Jimin again, to go back to his house and stay there, in the bubble of good things he gives you, by the feeling that you somehow don't deserve it, and by the almost scary feeling  that you felt when you saw a complete stranger in his sleep.

Notes: I said I would update it before 2021! HAHAHA Sorry it took a whole life! IF YOU WANT TO BE ADD TO THE TAG LIST LET ME KNOW. FEEDBAKC IS GOOD TOO. ____________________________________________________________

Tag list: @ireallylikeyourwriting @angrygardenerr​ @depressed-dude20 @milktaetae95 @tangledsparkles​  @wlalsrkfla​ @minikolima​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @midiplier

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Four: Supper

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,748

MASTERLIST

~

A sudden loud beep had you shooting upright in bed. You leapt up and put your ear to the door. Rather than sinister noises, you heard the faint humming of a very familiar theme song.

You cracked open the bedroom door, peeking into the kitchen where Spencer was bustling around with a frying pan and a spatula with a focused expression on his face, humming the theme music to Doctor Who under his breath.

It was actually kind of adorable. You pushed open the bedroom door further to get a better look, but the door creaked and Spencer spun around, withdrawing his gun and pointing it square in your face.

“I’m sorry!” you squealed, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He quickly holstered his gun and ran over to you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” you tried to laugh. “A little shaken but I’m okay. Really!” you added after a doubtful look from him.

His eyes were a deep hazel that seemed to peer into your soul. His hands felt good on your shoulders, clutching you tightly in comfort. It had been a while since you’d had, well, any physical contact. He was so tall he had to lean down to level his face with yours.

Suddenly, he seemed to realize how close the two of you were and stepped back, clearing his throat. 

“I was, uh, trying to make dinner.”

“I can see that,” you said playfully, with a glance at the kitchen in disarray.

“Yeah. I’m not the best cook. I can memorize thousands of recipes in minutes but i’ve never seemed to master the execution.”

You hesitated. 

“Thousands of recipes in minutes? What are you a genius?” you laughed.

“Scientifically, yes. An I.Q. score over 160 classifies someone as a genius.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re kidding?”

He shook his head, slipping his hands into his pockets and shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Wait so you can read like, a thousand words per minute?”

“Twenty-thousand,” he corrected, stepping back into the kitchen to continue cooking.

“Twenty-thousand!? That’s impossible!”

“Actually, the unconscious brain can process up to eleven million bits of information per second. It’s just a matter of being able to—“

“—to access the information from your subconscious,” you said, cutting him off. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

He looked at you in shock.

“What’s even more impressive is that you finished a sentence for me.”

“Sorry,” you blushed.

“No! No, I mean, not a lot of people can, erm, keep up. When you start college at fourteen, not many people expect you to be smarter than them. Then when they find out how smart you really are, it can be intimidating.”

Your mouth twitched up into a smile. Spencer was impressive, for sure, but he was also entertaining. Not in a make-fun-of kind of way, but he made you laugh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Supper’s ready!”

You stifled a laugh.

“Supper?”

“What?” he looked over at you, reaching up to get two plates.

“Who says supper? Are you eighty?” you teased. 

“I’m twenty-six!” he said indignantly.

You froze.

“Wait, really?” He nodded. “You’re only twenty-six and you’re a prominent FBI agent? How?”

“Genius I.Q, three Ph.D.’s, and my irresistible charm,” he said, giving a goofy smile.

“Three PhDs? How? I’m getting a PhD and I can barely keep up with the workload!”

“You‘re getting a Ph.D.? That wasn’t in your police report. What’s it in?” he asked as he filled your plates. 

“Actually, I’m working on two.”

“Two!?”

You nodded, happy that you’d been able to shock him.

“Yep. Linguistics and Philosophy. I like Philosophy better but Linguistics is more challenging. The library won't let you into the section with the really good language books without a certain clearance. But I've actually nearly finished my thesis for it. What?” you added, noticing him staring at you.

“You’re working on two doctorates simultaneously?”

“Surprised you’re not the only genius?” you joked, taking your plate from him, then, upon seeing what he’d made, bursting out into laughter. 

“What?” he looked genuinely confused, which only made you laugh harder.

“Bacon?” you said through gasps. “Bacon and pancakes? You are aware it’s—“ you glanced at the clock, “—nine forty at night?”

“Gimme a break!” he said defensively. “It’s the only thing I can cook. The word ‘cook‘ being a generous descriptor.” 

It was better than Doritos and bourbon for dinner, your go to meal. You were just glad you’d had the stuff to make dinner. It would be very awkward trying to explain your unhealthy eating habits to Spencer.

You didn’t have a dining table. Anyway, you usually ate on the couch and watched something on TV. That was normal nowadays right? Whatever. Spencer didn’t seem to mind which was good enough for you.

“So, um,” he said nervously, pulling out a pad of paper and pencil. “There’s a few things I need to go over with you.”

You nodded, remembering the situation you were in.

“Is there anyone you can think of who might have shown a sort of stalking behavior before? They’d be unreliable, constantly late, not being able to stick to a schedule?”

“The only person I know like that is Claire, one of my co-workers, but she’s not a stalker, she's just always late to work. Honestly, the only people I really know are my co-workers, some people from school, and Steve, my friend.”

“The FBI is going to need a list of people you see frequently. If you could put that together as soon as you’re ready. Also, all your credit card information will have to be analyzed, everywhere it’s been used. Whoever accesses your card, even for something as small as a stick of gum, has the opportunity to use that information to find your name, your address, your workplace—”

“Ok. I get it. People I see frequently and my credit card info. Gotta warn you, there’s not much I buy with it other than books and coffee. Then again, there’s the occasional splurge at the mall.”

“Well, the FBI needs all of it.”

You nodded softly, staring at the bacon on your plate. He hadn’t said I need he’d said The FBI needs. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly.

“Do you want to watch something?” he said, gesturing toward the TV. “It might be a good distraction?”

“Yeah,” you put your plate on the coffee table, noticing that you’d barely eaten. “Yeah that sounds good. Could you just put something on? I don’t wanna choose.”

He nodded and picked up the remote.

The only thing he really knew you liked was Doctor Who so he put on a random episode. You let the TV become background noise to your thoughts as you stared off into space.

Spencer was comforting to be around. He helped take your mind off the situation you were in. You looked over at him on the couch, long legs crossed under him. He had taken off his tie and shoes and changed into more casual clothes: a jumper and some jeans. He was absentmindedly fiddling with the throw blanket between you on the couch. 

His hands are so long, you thought. Wait, why were you thinking that? You shouldn’t be thinking about his hands. Or how long they were. Or what they could—

“Are you alright?”

You felt yourself twitch, startled by his sudden acknowledgment. Even more embarrassing, you were sure he’d seen you staring at his hands.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Hey,” he moved closer on the couch, “you don’t have to be sorry. It’s alright to not be okay.”

They were just words, they didn’t help. What did help was the care behind them. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he actually meant it. To him, it really was ok to not be okay.

“Thank you Spencer, that actually helps.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 10:26.

“I should do some schoolwork,” you said, cringing afterward. You didn’t want him to think of you as some school kid.

“Okay!” he chirped happily, standing as you stood like a proper gentleman. “I’ll just be out here. Is it okay if I keep watching?” The episode played on, The Doctor dangling from a rope above London. “I really like this episode,” he said sheepishly.

“Sure,” you chuckled. “I’ll be in my room and please let me know if you need anything, seriously.”

He nodded assent, but you weren’t sure if he actually would. He seemed a little withdrawn, comforting you when you needed but keeping his distance when possible. It’s his job to keep you safe, you reminded yourself. Don’t get excited.

An hour later your eyes watered from the strain of keeping them open. But you were almost done with this paper. Sure, it was due next week but you were on a roll. Using an allusion to the Holocaust to support the point that Hollywood writing is riddled with antisemitism. In the morning, it might not sound as clever, but to your sleep-deprived brain, it was poetry.

A light knock on your door startled you.

“Come in,” you croaked.

Spencer peeked into your room, squinting.

“It’s pitch black in here,” he said, reaching for the light.

You shrieked as the light filled the room, blinding you.

“TOO BRIGHT!” you yelled, slamming your computer shut and throwing your arms over your eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he fumbled with the switch and clicked it off. The room was now shrouded in darkness, neither of you able to see yet.

“Are you there, Spencer?”

“Yeah.”

You were both whispering. Why was it that people whispered in the dark? 

“You should try and get some sleep,” Spencer said. He was becoming more visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. He had changed into a blue set of pajamas. The fabric looked so soft.

“Yeah,” you muttered, moving toward the bed, “Yeah, I’ll do that.” 

Your bed felt scratchy and cold. Just last night getting in bed had been such a relaxing experience. So much had changed in a day.

“I’ll be right in the next room if you need anything,” 

“Hmm,” you hummed.

Spencer padded back out of your room.

The moment before the door closed you thought you heard a very faint, “Good night, Y/N.” But before you could wonder if it had happened or not, you were dropping off into a deep sleep. Knowing that you were safe with Spencer in the next room.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13

[melancholicumsomnia]

[FIC] A Little Miracle In The Volume Part 4

A/N: Here’s Part 4 of my fic contribution to PEDRO PASCAL APPRECIATION WEEK 2021! The #ppaw2021 theme of Day 4 is Favorite pics/videos from Pedro’s IG or Twitter. I love any pic of Pedro with Oscar Isaac, but I love these two the most (the first one coming from Pedro’s IG).

Again many thanks to @pedrohub​ for PPAW and to @pedrocentric​ for patiently hearing this frustrated writer’s complaints about the plotting and writing process. 

PREVIOUS PARTS

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3

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

A Little Miracle In The Volume

By

Rory

Part Four

Oscar was having a strange dream as he slept in his bed in Brooklyn. It had started out quite beautifully in fact – there he was, walking in a field of sunflowers, with the sun shining down on his head. Suddenly, he heard a loud buzzing noise, coming from a short distance away from him. His eyes grew wide as a dark cloud rose from those blossoms. To his even greater horror, that cloud began to head his way.

Bees!  

“WHOA!” Oscar cried out as he turned tail and ran for his life. 

But the bee swarm was relentless, following him down the hill and into the woods. In his fear of getting stung, Oscar would whirl back often to see how far the swarm was. The bees were, however, slowly but surely closing the gap between them. It was when he turned to look back again that he failed to see the thick root of an oak jutting out from the leaves-covered ground ahead of him. With a surprised “Woof!” Oscar tripped on the root and fell face first on the ground. 

As he turned onto his back, he raised his left arm to protect his face and closed his eyes. “No! Don’t! Please!” But the painful sting he dreaded never came. 

Instead, he felt something small alight on his arm. As Oscar looked at the thing, his jaw dropped in shock.

The bee on his arm had Pedro’s tearful face! As he trained his eyes on the swarm hovering above him, he saw that all of the bees had his best friend’s face!

“Help meee!” The bee made a high-pitched wail. The swarm followed suit, again, with that plaintive cry of “HELP MEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Oscar sat up from his bed with a gasp, wiping the sweat from his face. He glanced at his wife Elvira beside him, but thankfully, he had not woken her up. 

Now that he was fully awake, Oscar’s heart started to race again when he realized that he could still hear that buzzing sound inside the room. Peering through the darkness, he traced the sound to be coming from the floor on his side of the bed. Sure enough, it was his phone that was vibrating non-stop. He must have knocked it over the night stand while thrashing from his nightmare. Not wanting to wake up his wife, Oscar picked up the phone, went outside the bedroom, and tiptoed down to the kitchen. 

As he switched on the light, Oscar pressed “Answer” on his phone, without peeking at the screen to find out who was calling him, and spoke a single “Yeah?” 

The hairs on Oscar’s arms stood on end when his mysterious caller moaned, “GRUMMPPPYYYY!”

“What the f—” All of a sudden, Oscar remembered his dream and he knew who he was talking to. “Baby Chicken, is that you?” A bit pissed off, he added, “Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m sorrryyyy!” Pedro whined back on the other end. “But…but…”

Hearing how distraught his friend was, Oscar was seized by fear and apprehension. “Hey, hey! It’s okay. Did something happen on set? Heaven forbid…did they…did they fire you?”

“No, no! I’ve actually finished a few scenes already.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

A brief pause. Then, there was a choked sob and Pedro wailed, “Werner Herzog is picking on me!”

Both of Oscar’s eyebrows rose at that revelation. From his own personal experience, he knew that a lot of things can happen on a film set, but he never expected that to happen to his friend, who was noted in the industry as one of the friendliest and kindest actors. On the other hand, Werner Herzog was notorious for his eccentric behavior. He couldn’t fathom how his cheerful and so desperately eager-to-please friend could’ve gotten on the bad side of an infamous director like Herzog.

“Now, calm down, Baby Chicken,” Oscar tried to comfort Pedro, as he sat down on a stool. “Tell me what’s been happening.”

For twenty minutes, Oscar listened carefully as Pedro told him about the events of the past few days – about Herzog’s overprotectiveness of the puppet and his determination to keep it away from Pedro. It sounded like lunatic behavior. Then again, this was Werner Herzog they were talking about. Hollywood has gotten used to the director’s eccentricities.

But not poor Pedro.

“Werner has already finished filming his last episode,” Pedro was bringing his narrative to its conclusion. “But he refused to leave the set. He said that he wanted to watch us film Episode 8 in the backlot. Because there were going to be explosions and flamethrowers, he wanted to make sure that the baby would be safe. His wife Lena has been calling the production offices, asking when he was going home. But Werner won’t leave.”

“I have to give credit to the man,” Oscar remarked with a cluck of his tongue. “He certainly is committed to this delusion of his.”

“What’ll I do? I’m having difficulty concentrating with him lurking around like an evil shadow. I constantly feel like I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. And…and…” The quiet admission came. “…I want to spend more time with Grogu.”

So, you fell in love with the puppet too, huh! It must be that cute if you like him this much, Oscar mused to himself. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, he admitted, “Having never met or worked with Werner Herzog before, I’m not sure what advice I could give you. The way I see it, you need to man up to this guy. I mean, you’re the lead actor, for chrissake, and he’s just a guest star! You need to be with that puppet more if you want to develop a convincing on-screen bond with it.”

“My point exactly! But I’m terrified of him. His mood swings scare me.”

“Well, he is an old man. Maybe he misses his kids and grandkids. Hey, I know! Why don’t you give him a nice big cake as a peace offering? Because of their age, a lot of Seniors can no longer eat the foods they loved when they were younger.”

Pedro let out a snort. “Why should I give Werner a cake? He’s the one who’s been terrorizing me!”

“Then I think you have no choice but to man up to him. Maybe not a direct confrontation. Maybe show him something which he can’t do.”

“Well, I can’t think of anything. This is THE Werner Herzog we’re talking about here. He’s done a lot of things in lifetime. Hell, he even ate a shoe on a bet!”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. With your charms, you’ll have Herzog eating out of your hand.”

“I doubt it,” Pedro said dubiously. There was an exhalation on the other end. “I wish you were here to give me a hug, man, coz I really need it.”

“Well, consider yourself virtually hugged and here’s a smooch for good measure.” Oscar then made a loud “Mwah!” on the phone. 

“Thanks, Oscar. And I’m sorry to have woken you up. I…I just needed to hear your voice right now.”

“It’s okay. Just keep in touch, alright? Keep me updated on what’s been happening on set and with Herzog.”

“I will. Bye, Grumpy Eagle!”

“Bye and take care, Baby Chicken!”

There was a soft click as the call ended. 

“Honey?” A sleepy voice spoke behind him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Oscar apologized to his wife Elvira. She was standing at the kitchen doorway, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Elvira wandered over to her husband, who wrapped his arms around her waist and settled her down on his lap. “Was that Pedro on the phone? Is he okay?”

“He’s having some problems with Werner Herzog.”

“THE Werner Herzog? I’ve heard he is quite a character.”

“Judging from what Pedro told me right now, he is certainly that!”

Briefly, Oscar gave his wife a rundown of what’s been happening to his best friend.

Elvira clucked her tongue in dismay and shook her head. “What a silly old man! With Pedro fretting and carrying on about the baby like this, doesn’t Herzog see that Pedro is already acting like a real father?”

Hearing that comment, Oscar could only stare at his wife in amazement at her astuteness.

“I guess Herzog hasn’t noticed it or refuses to see it,” Oscar agreed with her. “Then again, I don’t think Pedro has realized that he has become a Dad to that Child either.”

TO BE CONTINUED

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Peace | Damian Wayne

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Female!Plus Size Reader

Characters: Damian Wayne, Reader, Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain (mentioned), Bruce Wayne (mentioned), Alfred Pennyworth (mentioned)

Word Count: 7k

Request: i have this idea but im not a good writer so i want to request for you to do it: ps reader is dating tim and lately sex isnt great so he invites one of his brothers (the closest in age so probs damian) to have sex with her but she doesnt know and damian doesnt know she doesnt know and when he finds out hes embarrassed and all of that? fluffy ending with damian.

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, suggestive themes, lying, mentions of hypothermia, brief talk about consent, self-doubt, fluff.

A/N: I got a little carried away with this... I hope you all like it, Damian is one of my favorite characters in general so it was great being able to write for him.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎ ・・・・・❖︎ ・・・・・❖︎

Cursing under your breath, you fixed your scarf as you waited to be received. The snow under your boots too out of ordinarily dense— Alfred always demanded the entrance to be free of snow. Upon making that observation you grew worried, the only occasions Alfred didn’t pay mind to those details where when an emergency was occurring and by the tone of the call you got minutes earlier, you couldn’t assume things were going.

They pulled the door open and left it that way so you’d walk yourself inside. Never a positive indication. You recognized the steps walking away from you like Jason’s, his presence in the manor so rare that you hurried in. Catching up with Jason was always hard, his strides were big and the fact that you were freezing didn’t help your situation at all.

Jason held the door to a sitting room open for you, looking at you with sympathy, bordering in pity; Tim had obviously told him you weren’t dating anymore. You thanked him, scanning the place to try to asses why had you been summoned. Swallowing your spit at the sight of Stephanie just beside Tim, you cleared your throat to not interrupt whatever they were doing.

You weren’t stupid, there was something between them. Although it hurt, you had nothing against either of them— it relieved you to know Tim had been honest and loyal throughout your relationship and if his happiness was with Steph, so be it.

Your ex-boyfriend pointed to one of the unoccupied cushioned armchairs, next to the one Jason had just sat on. You took your seat, your eyes dancing from Tim to Steph, to Jason. Tim sighed, “we need your help.” He sounded tired, more than usual, worried.

Nodding, you moved a hand to prompt him to explain what was going on. Tim looked down, Jason shifted beside you. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your nerves spiking up.

“Damian disappeared,” Tim explained. You turned to Jason, hoping he’d give you more telling, but he avoided looking at you.

“And how can I help? Is Bruce informed? And Dick?”

“Yes, he’s fine, but he doesn’t want to talk to us— not even with Alfred. He will talk to you.” Tim removed his hair from his forehead, sighing again— a sign you knew well, one of nervousness— “at least I hope.”

“So you know where he is?”

Tim nodded. Jason’s exasperated sigh didn’t go unnoticed by you. Before you could ask, the oldest of the two brothers spoke, “tell her, Tim.”

Tim picked his mug, mumbling something inaudible on the lip of it and taking a long gulp. You felt yourself starting to tense up, many occasions you had seen your ex-boyfriend do that and it always led to a clash.

He put the drink down on the table, “Remember the last time we had sex?”

How could you forget? You had assumed your relationship was getting better after a bad month. He had been so attentive that night, so passionate— his lips hadn’t left an inch of your body untouched, he had shown to have listened to what you had suggested weeks prior and blindfolded you, Tim had shown you a side of him you didn’t think to exist. He hadn’t been too extreme but he had definitely been rougher than ever, tying your hands and eating you out quite harshly even though he usually avoided giving you oral sex. Now you saw it as a passionate goodbye, it saddened you because it had been the best sexual experience you ever had but it was what it was.

“Yeah,” you rasped, uncomfortable by speaking about it in front of other people. “Why?”

“I– promise me you won’t get mad.”

Stephanie shook her head which made you realize you would definitely get mad. Scenarios crossed your mind, had he recorded you without your consent? Did he have an STD and didn’t tell you at the time? Did you have an STD you didn’t know about and passed it to him?

“What did you do?”

Tim licked his lips. “It wasn’t me. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t know how... it was Damian, I t—“

“You did what?!” you blurted a yell.

He lifted a hand to prevent you from interrupting so he could finish justifying himself. You shook your head, standing up. Your nerves were eating you alive, Damian Wayne had seen you naked and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it!

“Why the fuck did you do that, Timothy?”

He watched you, trying to find the words that would make you less mad. “I didn’t know what else to do! You were upset and... look, I knew Damian liked you so I told him you wanted to try new stuff.”

“You didn’t ask me...” you trailed off, feeling everyone staring at you. Embarrassment was an understatement, your ex-boyfriend was telling you he made his brother have sex with you without your consent and from what you gathered the entire family knew. Snatching your purse, you stormed off the room. You ignored their calls for you to get back in the same way Tim had ignored your opinions and wishes.

On the way to your apartment, you couldn’t help but wonder what else had he lied about, which things hadn’t been real. It was a nightmare, now doubting the best romantic memories you had to even be real. Everything reminded you about your relationship with Tim, the elevator where you had shared your first passionate kiss, that centerpiece on the coffee table he bought for you when he went out of the country for a business trip, the couch and how many times you cuddled there...

You didn’t wish to enter your bedroom even though it hadn’t been difficult to do it when he moved out. You had been so understanding, somewhat naive, you didn’t question him further on when he said the relationship wasn’t working. It hurt, but your consolation had been his honesty, one you now knew to have been false.

You laid down on the couch, facing the ceiling. What a way to spend a Friday evening, in anguish for an ex. Letting it affect you pissed you off, but you were human after all and he had betrayed your trust. As you continued to think about it, the situation turned worse.

From Tim’s family, you were the closest to Damian and Cass. Everyone was nice and kind, even Bruce whom you had found intimidating the first few times you interacted with, but Cass and Damian were special in their own peculiar ways. You had been told you were lucky to have met Damian as a grownup, he had even agreed although you were never given a proper explanation, and it had taken you a few tries to find things to have in common with Cassandra but when you got there your friendship with her became one of the highlights of your life.

Now you wouldn’t be able to look at your friends in the face. Maybe Cass wouldn’t judge you, but Damian had every right to do it. He had seen every inch of your body, touched it with both his hands and mouth, he had been inside you— and it had been the best night of your life.

Buzzing startled you, the vibration of your cellphone against the wooden table annoying you to no end. Extending your arm, you declined the call without looking at the screen. The device buzzed again, now in your hand; reading the caller’s name, you pondered on your options— you could turn the cellphone off and risk Dick breaking into your apartment or pick up. A hard decision, you didn’t want to talk about anything with anyone.

Deciding to get it over with, you picked up at the last ringing. “Hey, Dick.”

“(N/N)!” you could hear the relief in his voice, “Jay told me you left the manor very upset.”

“Yeah... what do you need?”

Dick exhaled very loudly, making you wince, “it’s Dami... he doesn’t want to talk with anyone. Jon tried, Alfred tried, Cass tried, I tried...”

“I can’t help you.” You didn’t feel ready to face him, you weren’t even sure you were ready to process what had happened. “Give him space, Dick, he needs it.”

“I’m worried. He never shuts himself off so drastically...”

Yeah, you knew. “I’ll text him.”

“He didn’t take his phone. But you know in which safe house he is.”

❖︎・・・・・❖︎ ・・・・・❖︎ ・・・・・❖︎

Crazy, you were fucking crazy for going out in the middle of the night. It was freezing outside, the fog from the cold and sleet making it harder for you to see in the dark. The Wayne family would be responsible for your death, you were sure, good thing Bruce was rich so he could at least pay for your funeral.

You fixed the hood of your jacket, sleet tapping against the material as you continued your walk. Your hands were numb, the gloves not really warming them up. Driving hadn’t been an option, it was too dangerous and your eyes were too tired from crying.

The streets got darker as you approached your destination, your harsh breathing getting louder. The smoke coming out of your mouth because of the cold was the only indicator of life around you, your steps having to be slower in order for you to not trip only another reminder that you could’ve been under your warm covers. You continued complaining, inwardly, with your nerves about to burst until you recognized the front of the property.

Punching the code at the gates had been harder than you anticipated, with your fingers nearly rigid. The front lawn was in perfect condition as it always did, but the lights were off. You walked up the front steps out of memory like Cass had taught you to do. Lifting your fist, you let it linger on the air for a few seconds, unsure.

It was the right thing to do, you were freezing and going back would mean definitely dying from hypothermia, and yet you weren’t ready. It terrified you more than being kidnapped which had always been so plausible in a city as dangerous as Gotham and with the acquaintances you had. Facing it meant closing a cycle, and closing the cycle would mean having to start again...

Resigned, you knocked twice, made a pause, then knocked twice again. You couldn’t hear any sound coming from inside, but that didn’t mean much. The door cracked open, an annoyed sigh greeting you as a green eye peeked from inside. Damian swung the door open and took you by the wrist, pulling you in with ease.

The entrance was locked as soon as you were inside, his fingers still around your wrist as with his other hand he made sure every lock was on.

“What were you thinking?” Damian snapped. “It’s freezing outside!”

You snatched your wrist off his grip, dying to get your backpack off your shoulders. “I was worried about you.”

“You could’ve died.”

“I couldn’t sleep! I was worried, Damian.” He hated when you repeated things, you shouldn’t have done it at that moment when he was so annoyed but you were annoyed too, and tired, and cold, and worried, and confused, and scared.

“I heard you the first time. Why didn’t you at least drive here?”

“You would’ve scolded me for driving under this weather.”

He took a proper look at you. Damian was good at reading you, your body language, the tone of your voice. There were four persons he knew like the back of his hand: Bruce, Talia, Dick, and you. “You’ve been crying...” it wasn’t a question, nor a prompt to explain yourself. He made the observation, tore his eyes away from you and stepped back.

You were sure he knew by now Tim had told you. There wasn’t any other reason why Damian would suddenly be so tense, not with you. You knew him very well yourself, not to the point he did with you but that came with the training you had never even imagined could exist. There were things, however, Damian didn’t pay attention to about himself that you did— his inclination toward sweet and savory desserts, for example, or the way he hid behind his clothes when anxious, the changes in his voice when in presence of an animal, how his eyes sparkled when he spoke about medicine.

“What did he say?”

“Who?”

“You know damn well who.”

Damian didn’t like losing time, you should’ve also remembered that. “Just what happened that night,” you mumbled, his jaw setting when you didn’t elaborate on it.

“Did you appear here to tell me you hate me?” he surprised you by asking.

You couldn’t help but frown, no matter how frustrating it could be to him. Damian would always tell you frowning didn’t suit you. “Why would I hate you? You didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know either,” he refuted. “That’s not how consent works.”

“I’m aware that’s not how consent works!”

“Then?” Damian pressed, standing perfectly straight. “Why don’t you hate me?”

“Why do you want me to hate you?!” you squealed. You could only imagine that it would be better for him if you hated him so the topic wasn’t touched upon ever again, but you could never hate Damian.

He lifted his arms in exasperation, “because I should’ve asked you at that moment! I shouldn’t have listened to Drake! I shouldn’t have let m—“ he stopped himself abruptly, right hand flying toward his forehead. He rubbed his face, huffing through his nose.

“What? You shouldn’t have let what?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” you encouraged him, “it can’t be worse than my ex-boyfriend implying to me in front of his new girlfriend that instead of straight-up telling me he didn’t want me anymore he convinced my close friend to fuck me.” Oh, wow. It sounded worse when you said it out loud— it didn’t even sound real, it couldn’t be, it shouldn’t.

Damian stood there, silently avoiding you. His eyes were solely focused on the wall in front of him, face neutral. How much time passed wasn’t relevant, you were too lost in thought to realize or care. He wouldn’t say anything, and you wouldn’t press on the subject anymore when you had been humiliated so badly. Going there was a mistake, worrying was a mistake, telling him anything had been a mistake. Just like he thought he should’ve done things differently, you were sure you shouldn’t have risked confrontation. Perhaps what annoyed you the most was that he seemed to want you away from him as you had predicted he would, and it hurt way more than what Tim had done.

You hunched down to pick up your backpack, dropping it again when he cleared his throat. “I didn’t require convincing.”

Believing to have understood his words wrong, you stared up at him through your lashes. Tim’s words came to you, ”I knew Damian liked you.” When he said it you had assumed he meant Damian liked you as a friend but not that Damian Wayne liked you. It didn’t sound bad, just highly unrealistic.

He didn’t repeat himself nor furthered his comment, he just stared back. The yellow tones in his green eyes got more prominent the longer you stared, looking like sunlight warming the prettiest forest you’d ever seen. You straightened your back as you shifted on your feet, not sure of what to say.

“Why didn’t you—“

“Say anything?” he interrupted you. You nodded. Damian shrugged, eyes again diverting from your face, “Drake always gets what I want, I wasn’t even surprised.”

You hated the way he said it, so upset his amalgamated accent turned thicker. You were at loss of words, you had never seen him that way— not because you didn’t think he was handsome but because he was Damian Wayne, your close friend, a guy way out of your league.

“I wish you had said something, but I understand.”

Damian lifted both eyebrows. “Would it have changed anything?”

“I don’t know,” you told him honestly. It was so easy to be truthful with him, so freeing.

“You looked happy.”

Tim understood many things without needing an explanation. His body was different from his friend’s and family’s so he never judged yours, he’d remind you there was nothing wrong with being the way you were so often that you had started to believe it. You could put up with the nights of worry and the fights that came with his carelessness because you felt loved and accepted and wanted to give him just that. Tim had been great up until that early afternoon.

And Tim wasn’t Damian. Tim didn’t have time to put up with your rants, he was a detective by day and vigilante by night. Tim couldn’t be there every time you needed company after a bad day, Tim in his sleep-deprived state forgot important dates and details. You had always admired the way Damian’s brain worked, how efficient he was, but you had never stopped to ask him how was he able to do that; it hadn’t even crossed your mind that he could be doing a sacrifice because he cared about you.

“I was.”

Silence filled the living room. Damian had his back against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, your fingers brushed the strap of your backpack as you wiggled them to keep them from cramping. He had the ability to bend everything over his will, his mood could change yours in seconds, his stance stirred rooms. You felt the temperature dropping, not sure if it was physical or metaphorical, and wondered if it wouldn’t be better to leave.

You didn’t want to leave. Everyone would call you crazy, but Damian’s presence had always been comforting. His silence, his bluntness— you were scared of losing that, how clearer he made things when you were confused, how much you learned from him. Things would never go back to normal, your friend liked you for some reason and you didn’t know what to think about it, he had seen you naked without you even being aware, and it seemed like he hadn’t hated what he saw. But leaving was the best option. You were confused, overall scared, and Damian couldn’t be of comfort at that moment— he shouldn’t.

Zipping up your jacket, you let out a sigh. “Just go home, man. Your family is worried.”

His low hum caught your attention. Expecting him to say something else would’ve been losing your time, Damian wasn’t a fan of being told what to do. However, he snatched his coat from the hanger and slid it on. Damian took his car keys and wiggled them, wordlessly telling you he’d drive you.

You tried to protest, using the fact that it was past 7:00 AM already. Damian wasn’t having it, it was still cold outside. You were desperate to get home already, you needed time with yourself and the sooner you got it the better.

The silence between you two not being uncomfortable throughout the ride was astounding. It felt colder in the car than back at the safe house, probably because the sleet hadn’t ceased but mostly because you were on edge. He didn’t attempt to talk nor to do anything else then drive really, he looked calm as always, so collected it unnerved you. You considered for a moment that he had simply told you what he did out of pity then discarded the thought because Damian wasn’t like that.

In any other situation, you would’ve found curious how deeply you knew him, but it was starting to scare you. One thing was being aware of what your friend liked or disliked but not even self-sabotaging your thoughts because you knew them that well was in the highest level of knowledge about someone. It meant you thought about him more often than you had ever cared to admit, more than you had ever realized.

You had so much to ponder on, to worry about. How long would it take to close the cycle of your relationship with Tim when now you weren’t sure if it had been honest or not? Would your friendship with Damian be ruined by what happened plus his attraction toward you? Were you attracted to him?

In the apartment, the silence was different, deafening. The place felt bigger than it was, bigger than it had felt when you left in the middle of the night. Unfolding the blanket you always kept on the couch, you wrapped it around your body and curled up with your head on the arm of the furniture. You also turned the tv on, hoping the noise would help you get some sleep.

Nothing helped, your mind wasn’t letting you rest. It insisted on replaying Damian’s unwavering tone when he said he hadn’t needed convincing. You probably wouldn’t have needed convincing either if Tim had asked you to fuck his brother, but it felt... wrong. Saying you had internalized your attraction toward Damian to protect yourself was an understatement, the potential rejection was scary but it wasn’t in the top five of the things you feared in relation to him— and that only proved you actually liked him back.

Conflicted was putting it lightly. If someone would’ve asked you the morning before if you had feelings for Damian Wayne you would’ve laughed, now you couldn’t take the idea off your mind. Processing it all would require time, the comfort he gave you, the confidence, seemingly the pleasure— you were seeing him in another light, and the worst part of it was that you weren’t startled by it.

Finding natural to be attracted to someone you had never seen that way before wasn’t how you expected your week to start.

You assumed Damian had eventually gotten back to the manor, your phone hadn’t buzzed too much throughout the weekend apart from a few messages in your friend’s group text. A nice contrast with your mind which was reeling from Friday and your newfound passion.

Was it just passion? You didn’t know, you weren’t sure of wanting to. Damian had started to consume all your thoughts and feelings, your dreams too— the anger you had felt from finding out Tim hadn’t been the one to pleasure you that night had dissipated by the second morning you woke up soaking wet due to a dream. It obviously had more to do with your libido than with anything else, but the new perspective was better.

Seeing it that way made you feel dirty. If you closed your eyes and let your mind wander back to that night you now could see Damian hovering over you, the greenest eyes you had ever seen staring into your soul with dilated pupils— you could picture the smirk you had felt against your skin as he nipped on your thigh. He was driving you crazy without knowing it, but him knowing terrified you.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎ ・・・・・❖︎ ・・・・・❖︎

Taking alone time for yourself was the best decision you could’ve taken. You didn’t find all the answers nor closure regarding Tim and you felt really lonely, but you decided to focus on what you could— it gave you perspective, about Damian, about your interpersonal relationships in general, what you wanted, what you enjoyed.

Damian hadn’t contacted you. It would’ve bothered you if you weren’t so familiar with him. He wouldn’t call until you showed signs of wanting to talk, he was too busy to beg— and even if he wasn’t, Damian Wayne never begged.

When ready, you texted your group chat with Damian and Cass as nothing had happened. Both texted you individually about very different topics as they always did, it was something you thoroughly enjoyed about them.

Damian’s answers were quicker than usual, yours shorter. You didn’t want things to be awkward between you two, but you didn’t really know what to say; or if you should say anything about what had happened.

What if not speaking about it was for the best? You liked him, the realization of it scared you to no end, and he liked you back. He fucking liked you back, why or how only he knew, but the fact that he did felt good yet it mingled with guilt. He was Tim’s brother, and although your ex-boyfriend hadn’t had consideration toward you, you felt bad.

Damian took over your thoughts, as you did house chores, as you worked, as you went out with your other friends... now you missed him in a way you had never missed anyone. His annoyed sighs, his tutting, his interesting topics of conversation, how funny he could get to be, his handsome face, his silky voice...

And so you texted him, asking if he was busy. He didn’t reply, at least not in the next five minutes. You turned the device off, not wanting to continue hopefully staring at it. Some would say it was childish, but you genuinely weren’t in the headspace to be rejected.

Pounding on the front door took you out of the tv show you were watching. Untangling yourself from the fuzzy blanket, you dragged your feet against the floor.

Damian slid past you as soon as you swung the door open, his steps more silent than ever as he analyzed the living room. His eyes stopped on the pile of folded clothes next to the couch for a prolonged moment before he continued what he had been doing.

You locked the door, estranged by his actions. “Are you looking for something?” you asked, the crack of your voice caused by how little you had used it that day making you wince, he’d surely realize.

He glared at you from behind the arch of the kitchen. “I thought you were in danger.” Before you could say something, he spoke again, “what happened to your phone?”

“Nothing.” You picked the cellphone from the center table and turned it on to show him.

Damian inhaled deeply, clearly keeping himself from snapping at you. He walked back to the living room, shaking his head once or twice while mumbling something in Arabic, and leaning against the wall just next to the window from where he could take a peek of the mostly white snowy street.

You went through your phone to avoid the tension between you two. The second worst idea you had that day, the first being texting him. You had multiple texts from him, a few from Dick, missing calls from the entire family. In your attempts to not get your heart broken you didn’t stop to think how it would seem to Damian if you suddenly stopped responding after asking if he was busy.

“Why are your clothes in the living room?” his inquiry bounced against the window glass.

You stayed quiet, he’d surely get the hint you didn’t want to talk about that.

He did get the hint, he also ignored it. The least you could do, in his mind, was answer his questions after worrying so bad. “(Y/N)?”

Lying to Damian was so hard you didn’t even try it. “I’m not using my closet anymore,” you explained, looking for the remote to turn the TV off in order to have an excuse to not look at him.

In contrast, he focused on you. You were now folding the blanket to keep your hands busy, fixing the pillows on the couch so it would look in the same fashion it always did.

“You’re not sleeping in your room.” Damian wasn’t sure if it came off as a question or an observation but it was the latter.

You shook your head, inwardly, and uselessly, begging he’d drop the topic at that. You were ashamed to accept what happened was affecting you, and even more ashamed by the fact that it was affecting you in ways you never expected. His silence was worse than being alone, there he was with his arms crossed once again, jaw clenched, and attention out of the window. You considered turning the TV back on just to feel less uncomfortable, less exposed.

Connecting the dots wouldn’t be hard for anyone aware of the situation. You should’ve said something, explain it didn’t have to do with him— not negatively at least— but you were too nervous, almost on edge which was getting too frequent for your liking.

Willing him to say something, you focused on him as if the intensity of your gaze would make a difference. He was already watching you like a hawk, analyzing every twitch. Damian uncrossed his arms, his palms slapping against his thighs as he pushed himself off the wall. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. Masking how surprised you were by his apology had been hard, probably pointless when he knew you so well.

“It’s no excuse.”

“Damian, please.” Your voice got smaller, the last word coming as a mere whisper. Speaking about it terrified you, he was right and you wished it wasn’t the case— you had tried to ignore the fact that he hadn’t given you his consent either and you didn’t have a way to know if he had enjoyed himself. The longer you thought about it, the dirtier you felt.

You were angry at yourself for not having known better, at Tim for not being honest... but you weren’t mad at Damian. Should you have been when he was almost as unaware as you? Wanting to be sure, to at least have some closure, you asked, “when did he tell you the truth?”

“The night before he told you.”

“Why do you feel so bad about it, then?”

He sighed shakily, dropping his head forward. He hoped that if he stared long enough the floor would open and swallow him, it would be way better than having you hear the truth. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” he explained, eyes on the same spot they had been for the past couple of minutes. He heard your breath hitching, the swallow of your spit. Damian braced himself to be slapped when he heard the thud of the blanket being dropped on the cushioned arm of the couch.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“What?” Damian’s gaze snapped upward, completely lost as to why you could be apologizing.

You clarified what you meant, “I’m sorry you had to see... me.”

“You idiot! I don’t mean it in a bad way.” Damian hated how insecure you could be, he knew it to be natural in an environment where people believe their personal standards to be the norm but it was horrible to see. He had tried his best to make you understand there was nothing shameful about your body but it seemed like he had failed. “It’s not...” he groaned, straightening his posture. There went nothing. “I feel guilty because I get turned on thinking about it.”

Oh. Well, at least you weren’t the only one who thought about it constantly. The days consequent to that night hadn’t been easy, the break up had come too soon and the only thing you had as consolation was that night. The fact that you had touched yourself while thinking about Damian without knowing was weird, it felt intrusive and at the same time thrilling— adding it to the fact that then you had wet dreams about it wasn’t a good look. Or yes, who knew at that point? Surely not you.

“For what it’s worth, me too.” Your face was burning up as the words left your lips. Your sex life wasn’t something you talked about with Damian, and when you did it with Cass you spared her the details because she didn’t like hearing about Tim in that way.

“But you didn’t know it was me,” he reminded you, and himself.

You made a face, “I don’t really care that much... it sounds bad but I don’t. It was my first orgasm in months.”

Damian stepped closer, naturally towering over you. You gazed up, trying to make sense as to what he was doing. “Am I reading this wrong?” he inquired in a whisper, fingers flexing to stop himself from touching you.

“No.”

He cupped your face with a hand, his freezing cold fingers making you shudder. He leaned in slowly, leisurely, his breath hit your skin and his nose brushed yours but he still didn’t kiss you— not yet. Arm snaking around your waist, he licked his lips. You couldn’t take it anymore and closed the gap, moving your lips against his as your hands rested firmly on his shoulders to not lose balance.

Kissing Damian was an experience, there wasn’t any other way to call it. He wasn’t in a hurry, his tongue had just tickled your mouth open but he hadn’t made a move to deepen the kiss. The heat from his body didn’t feel human, it transferred to your insides— it made butterflies swarm around in your stomach. For someone who hadn’t known they were attracted to their closest friend, your body was reacting as if you had been longing for that moment your entire life. You felt like floating, with his arms around your waist and neck respectively and his tongue tickling yours.

You didn’t want to part from him, oxygen was getting scarce and you found yourself thinking you’d rather die than stop kissing him. He found a good middle ground, recovering his breath with his right cheek against your left one. Inhaling your perfume in the process, he tightened his arms to have your body completely flush on his.

You moved your head to face him, finding the most peaceful semblance you had ever seen on him. Damian waited for your move, or your words, his eyes dancing all over your face. He had never had you so close, not properly, he hadn’t thought it would be possible to find more details to like about you but there he was, in awe of your beauty.

Tentatively, you kissed him again. He kissed back immediately, this once around not taking his time at all. You whined on his mouth, making him grunt. You caressed his thick hair, fingers burying between the dark locks as you pulled him impossibly closer. Damian pushed your body backward, your calves hitting the edge of the couch as he sucked your bottom lip between his.

You brought him down with you, his first reaction being to place his open palm on the back of your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as you tried not to giggle. He huffed a laugh himself, pecking your lips before dragging his own down to your jaw.

As he kissed your neck, he asked, “what do you want, Amira?”

Your attempts of getting out of bed failed the next morning, Damian pulled you closer as soon as he felt you move. You didn’t have any other option than placing your head on his hard chest, your index finger mindlessly tracing patterns against his dark olive skin. The tips of his fingers ghosted your back up and down, his steady breathing threatening to lull you back to sleep.

“I have to go to work.”

He hummed in answer yet gave no signal of wanting to let you go. If it was up to you, you would stay there with him for the entire day, in the little bubble you two had created the night before and would probably burst once you had to talk about it.

It didn’t feel like a mistake which should have surprised you, actually, you couldn’t think about a better decision you had taken in your life. Dramatic, sure, but no less true.

“Just call in sick,” he grumbled, properly tucking both your bodies into the covers. You could feel the ripple of his muscles as he did it, with just one hand as with his other arm he kept you in place.

You huffed a laugh, “I’ve only called in sick once.”

“An even stronger reason to do it now.”

“Don’t you have to go to work too?”

Damian snorted, moving his head to stare at you. You did the same when you heard and felt him shuffle. “Will you stay if I say no?”

As much as you dreaded the idea of leaving for work and not seeing his handsome face, you also dreaded the idea of having to see him go.

Damian seemed to have read your mind and interpret your silence, he brushed your cold cheek with his knuckles. His steady breathing quickened a little bit, you wouldn’t have been aware of it if your head hadn’t been resting on him. “Will you avoid me again if I let you get up?”

You shuffled just enough to face him, both your hands flat on his chest. “It wasn’t personal against you.”

“It felt like it.”

“I needed time, that’s all.”

“For what?”

You took a sharp intake of air, swallowing your excess of saliva as you exhaled. “Think, meditate... however you want to call it.”

“Is that why you don’t want to use your bedroom?”

“We’re literally in my bedroom.”

He rolled his eyes, “that doesn’t mean you want to use it.”

You stared down at your hands, the natural light of the morning making Damian’s skin glow under them. “It’s strange.”

“Why?”

“I think—“ you stopped for a moment to consider your phrasing, there wasn’t any other way of saying it and getting the point across than being direct. “At first it was because of what happened that night.” You felt him tense up, your fingers immediately rubbing circles over his skin in attempts of soothing him. “But then, after I tried to convince you to go back to the manor... it just doesn’t feel the same knowing things between us won’t be like they were before because it something that happened here.” You could’ve had articulated it better, but you didn’t want to mention Tim.

“Do you want that?” Upon seeing the confusion in your face he reformulated the question, “do you want us to be like we were before?”

”You don’t?”

He shook his head in answer. “Why would I?”

“Because I’m your best friend?”

“That’s Jon.”

You lifted your fingers to playfully slap them against his chest, “don’t be sassy with me.”

“I don’t like you the way I tolerate him.”

”isn’t it weird?” you mumbled the question.

Damian pursed his lips, looking up in thought. You took your time to stare at him some more, your fingers itching to trace his facial structure. “Because of Drake?”

“Your entire family,” you clarified, wishing you could avoid the topic altogether.

“I honestly don’t care.” You only hummed. His eyelashes fluttered as he dropped his gaze, his hand back to caressing your face. “What do you think?”

“I think,” you said through a sigh, “that I’m calling in sick.”

He smirked, withdrawing his arms to allow you movement. You shivered due to the change of temperature as soon as your legs swung from the bed, a pair of panties and a t-shirt were the only clothing covering you; you hadn’t really needed more than that and the duvet to sleep warmly, Damian’s body was extremely hot— literally, in both aesthetics and temperature.

Damian granted himself the pleasure of staring at your body as you stood just in front of him while making the phone call, the bouncing of your left leg, the slight tilt of your head, your shifty eyes while listening to whatever your interlocutor was saying. The longer he stared the stronger the urge of pulling you back into bed got. The phone call hadn’t even been lengthy, he was being a brat, but it wasn’t as if he cared.

He sat up near the edge of the bed, his feet flat on the floor without any effort thanks to his height. You thanked your boss, your eyebrows furrowing when you realized Damian had changed positions. Your eyes diverted down to his torso at the same time the line clicked.

Putting your cellphone down on the bedside table, you asked, “do you want something for breakfast?”

He opened his legs for you to stand between them, hands ready to be placed on your sides the second you complied. Out of instinct, you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hot breath giving you goosebumps as it hit your neck.

Lightly brushing your face as he ever so slightly turned his, he spoke with his lips against your jaw, “Are you on the menu?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, then.”

Damian ignored the way you rolled your eyes and continued trailing kisses over your jaw and chin. You gripped his hair so he’d face you, leaning down to kiss him when he did so. His arms snaked your hips as he kissed back, opening his mouth a little bit more than you which gave you some type of advantage.

“I really like you,” you finally said out loud, mouth still hovering over his.

You felt him smile. It prompted you to put some distance between your faces in order to take the sight in. He didn’t smile often, you weren’t sure as to why but you had theories— that didn’t matter, what did was that he had gifted you an honest smile, one that showed his dimples and brightened his eyes.

The urge to cup his face overcame you, your hands slowly slid toward his jaw and as they abandoned his hair— Damian nuzzled against your left one. Your thumbs caressed his cheek softly, his inhaling and exhaling making the small hairs on your arms stand up and fall down at the rhythm of his breathing.

You hadn’t felt so much peace in a long time, it might have been the pride flowing through you at the fact that he wasn’t very open with people— much less when it came to emotions— but you let yourself entertain the idea that the real reason behind it was how easy it had always been to be yourself around him.

It only hit you when he locked his eyes with yours that you were making him feel the same way. No amount of self-sabotaging or teasing from his family could take that away from you.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Alone together at the Summer Sweets Festival

Sweet treats, flying carpets, and colorful blooms - it's a magical day in Falcon Harbor when the Summer Sweets Festival comes to town. Everything's so soft and pastel, it's such a lovely sight to take in. Standing on the bridge, getting a full view of the festivities, I feel peaceful, like despite everything going on in the world right now, as long as I'm here, I'm safe.

Since we've been busy with camp stuff and running the shop, Daisy Jane and I felt that we needed some time to ourselves. Up until now, we haven't really had one on one time together, something we knew had to be fixed.

Hard to believe that Daisy Jane's been here for over a year now - how different things were back then. She went from stagnating in life to living her dream, being independent and creating art. And not too long ago I was in a similar position, trying to find my place in the world but having a hard time doing so. People objected - usually for good reason - but we took the plunge anyway, stumbling more than succeeding, but finding our way eventually. To some, it's still not ideal, but to us, we're happy, and that's more than enough for us.

Like I said, it's been nice just the two of us hanging out. I mean, we did meet up with friends but for the most part it's only us off on our own while occasionally meeting up. Not that I don't miss the campers but sometimes you just gotta go off and do your own thing. I've been so wrapped up in camp events lately that I haven't had time to do that and it was starting to affect me. As I'm still learning, it's important not to get too wrapped up in things - and there's nothing wrong with taking things slow, even slacking off if you can.

Since Pai brought along Connie and the gang, I've been thinking about that a lot. As much as I enjoy and look forward to camp events, they take a lot out of me. I get that they're kinda necessary to keep things running - and it's not like we're running out of ideas (I'm starting to think that's becoming one of my worst fears if I ever get to that point) -  but it's important to know when to slow down. I've made the mistake of back to back events so now I know to space them out for everyone's sanity.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that burnout ain't good. Know the signs and take steps to prevent yourself from crashing and burning. Problem is that it can sneak up in unexpected ways, so it's extra important to catch the warning signs as soon as possible.

A festival may not seem like an ideal way to get some rest and relaxation, but this one's different. I think it's the peaceful atmosphere in general - things aren't too crazy or crowded, just people vibing in their own spaces. Kinda like a cafe's that's sorta busy but not too crowded or loud so you can just chill out and do your own thing without feeling like you're in the way. I always feel bad for taking up space, especially when I know that someone else needs it more than I do, which is why I tend to feel self conscious out in public. Doing stuff at a cafe sounds nice but actually doing it? I need to find the right place, the right atmosphere, the right spot that gives me privacy while not be closed off from everything else.

In other words, the Summer Sweets Festival's kinda like finding the perfect cafe to hang out in. The vibe's similar to the Traveling Fika, a relaxed atmosphere that doesn't compel you to have to try out everything all at once but instead encourages you to take your time and explore at your own pace. As much as I enjoy festivals - even more so as I've had a hand in behind the scenes for some - they can take a lot out of me. Again, there's nothing wrong with slowing down and taking your time.

While enjoying the festivities we ran into some friends. Turns out Emmaline and Minnie had the same idea of going to the festival for one on one time. I think this is the first time I've hung out with them since their wedding. As usual, they've been traveling around the universe, though they've been slowing down a bit and visiting home more often. It's still up in the air, but they're really considering the idea of buying a place in Rosevine. They'll still be traveling but that means they'll also have a home base to go back to.

The four of us enjoyed galaxy themed dango and fresh jasmine tea while catching up. I think since getting married, Emmaline and Minnie have fallen even more in love with each other. It's always so sweet seeing them side by side, holding hands and just being together. Like me and Daisy Jane, they also took a gamble by going off on their own - they were always more bolder than us in many ways despite being younger. In a way, they seem older, though it's more of a kinda had to grow up faster because of life circumstances.

Now that I think about it, no one really comes out unscathed from their upbringing. I'm lucky to not experience the traumas Emmaline and Minnie went through, though I can relate to being seemingly older than your peers. I'm not knocking my upbringing but the culture I grew up in - where my parents were also brought up - tends to put pressure on all of us. Maybe I'm biased because I'm the firstborn daughter in an Asian family but in a way I'm kinda expected to be maternal - not that I don't want to be, it's just the pressure of being that gets to me. It's the whole idea of you have to be the best, not just for you, but for your family - in other words, you have a lot to carry on your shoulders.

Then there's the whole debate of whether I should do something because it's for me or should consider my family over myself. Eh, that's something for another time I don't feel like getting into all that today.  Will I have to address it someday? Probably but I don't have the brain power to even touch on that.

After getting lost in the stars, the four of us hopped on a flying carpet for a scenic view of the harbor. They say that Falcon Harbor's known for its magical carpets, from their beautiful and intricate designs to the magic these threads possess, it's amazing to see how much work is put into making a single one. The view is absolutely gorgeous - it adds to the dreamy vibe of the festival.

Not too long after parting ways, we ran into Blossom. It was an unexpected surprise as she came here on sort of a whim. For the past year or so she's been hanging out with a time traveling professor and exploring various parts of the universe with him. She posts a lot of about her travels on social media and it sounds like she's having a blast.

Though as much as she enjoys going on adventures with the professor, Blossom finds him a hassle to get along with sometimes. She describes him as the kind of guy who's used to pretty much getting away with everything and doesn't really know how to take responsibility, so inevitably that ends up getting him into a lot of trouble. Jamie's heard stories about him and while he has good intentions, most tend to have a like-hate thing with him. I get where Blossom's coming from with the lack of foresight and accountability - like it's understandable if you're from an upbringing that neglects that but at the same time you're a grown adult so act like one.

Aside from that the professor guy sounds cool but to be honest I'm not sure if I can stand to be his traveling companion. Blossom finds him to be good company most of the time and he brings some excitement to her normally monotonous life. Now with her little sister moving across the country, Blossom finally has more freedom to do what she wants. The main reason why she accepted the professor's offer to join in on his adventures was to get away from her, which is understandable. Her sister's a lot like mine in which I love her, but she can be a bit much to deal with - and not ideal to live with 24/7. With her sister gone, Blossom doesn't have to deal with nosy siblings who, while well intentioned, make her feel bad for doing her own thing. And yes, I speak from experience.

Originally, Blossom and the professor were gonna go on a space adventure but that was scrapped at the last minute. Basically, the professor owed an old friend big time for something he sorta screwed up on the last time he visited, so now, after avoiding it for years, he has to finally pay up. It's not as bad as it sounds as he knew that he would have to own up sooner or later, plus Blossom knows them to be good friends.

As much as she wants to see the cosmos, she's been busy helping her sister with the moving out process so she'd rather have a lowkey weekend. Since she lives about 20 mins away from town, Blossom figured that maybe she'd pop in to join in on the festivities for a bit. So we enjoyed candied strawberries, tiger milk tea, and a boat ride around the harbor before going off our separate ways again.

At night, we met up again with Emmaline and Minnie to set up a picnic and watch the fireworks show. Seeing all those bright, vibrant colors against the dark night sky, it's a pretty sight to look at. We also chose a good spot to view it as there's not too many people around and the sound doesn't break our ears. After that, we hung around a bit longer, exploring stands we haven't gotten around to visiting yet. The quiet atmosphere along with the gentle glow of the lanterns - I almost didn't want to leave because it felt so comforting, especially when it's just us alone.

Did I just say "us" alone? Maybe it's just because we've known each other for so long and have a lot in common, but as much as I like having alone time, I'm starting to see myself more open to sharing that time with Daisy Jane. Not exactly interacting, but existing in the same space, doing our own thing. I still need my solo alone time, but I also wouldn't mind being alone together with Daisy Jane, like how we were at the festival.

[the-goddessfighter]

DEMON & ANGEL MONSTERS AU BATAROU <3

by: Little1993lamb

Yayy it's my birthdayyy~! On September 6th, btw 😚🎉🎉🎊

Let me share Demon&Angel Monster Batarou AU as my treat for you, Temperans-sama!

 Summary:

At some point in his life after living together with reformed Human Monster Garou, Badd suddenly underwent a monsterification which allowed him to transform into a new form: a six-winged Seraphim-like Angel Monster.

And today is Badd's birthday, but he's must still going to do his daily duty as a professional S-Class hero along with Garou. What Garou can do to cheer his beloved Angel up on his birthday?

 Disclaimer:

The headcanons that have been mentioned in this AU are not 100% mine. Some ideas were created by @the-goddessfighter, @beautifulnightmareus, and @kaincuro .

I only combined and mixed all of them together with my own ideas into one (hopefully) coherent AU headcanon. So, thank you so much guys for giving me brilliant ideas!

 Warning:

Nothing was explicit here, so it's safe I assure you. But there are some soft yet passionate kisses between Garou and Badd, and some loving embrace/hugging from this Demon&Angel Monster couple.. 😚💋❤

OOC characterizations of Badd and Garou, I'm pretty sure of it. There are many amazing authors who can nailed their characterization perfectly and rest assured I'm not among them *sobs*

No beta. So many typos, grammar mistakes, very limited vocabulary, and broken English. I'm so sorry for my bad English, it's not my mother language I'm still learning on it, so I apologized if it makes you feel very uncomfortable during reading this writing, forgive meee... 😭🙏🙇

 Please enjoy it 😉💕

 --------------------------------

Badd was deep in thought, contemplating his life journey together with Garou for the last 4 years.

It's been 4 years since Badd was harboring a fugitive Garou in his home, just a day before his 18th birthday. It's been difficult to play some cat-and-mouse game against Heroes Association, knowing they were still hunted the ex-Hero Hunter, who currently hiding in his own house.

He realized that Garou is actually not a bad guy, they quickly became bestfriends without knowing there's something else was blooming between them.

 It's been 3 years and a half since Badd partnered with Garou after he was getting pardoned by Heroes Association and became a hero, climbed up his way from the very bottom of C-Class rank until he could stand beside Badd as a fellow S-Class Hero in no time. Badd was so proud of him.

It's more easier to have Garou as his partner, fighting along side-by-side, sharing their glorious victory together just like old friends, or maybe more than that but nobody have a courage to confess it out, resulting on them hopelessly pining for each other like idiots in love.

 It's been 3 years since Garou finally asking him out to be his lover, that he accepted immediately. They started living their love life together while still continuing their heroes works as partners.

Everyone had already know them as inseparable hero couple duo or power couple duo, while their friends just feel deeply relieved that at long last they become an item after too many obvious mutual pining moments for years.

He's grateful to have a very caring boyfriend like Garou, as it turned out Garou is secretly a softie and sweetheart, even though he always denied it immediately. Everytime Garou showering his love to him, Badd feels like his life is complete now.

 It's been a year since Badd underwent unexpected monsterification which allowed him to be turned into an Angel Monster, a six-winged Seraphim kind of Angel, complete with a halo above his head and pure white light emanating from his entire body. Total opposite from Garou's own monster form, which looked like a Demon.

It confused the hell out of him because it occured so suddenly, made him freaked out and slightly afraid of people's bad opinion for him if not for Garou's presence that soothing him and always taking care of him during the transformation.

Garou always comes to comfort him whenever they'd just transformed into monsters together, ensuring that he will always be there for him, telling him no matter what Badd has become he’ll still loving him unconditionally.  

 And it's been half a year that Badd had accepted his new form and learnt how to control his monster transformation, thanks to his lover's teaching and neverending supports. He later learning from Garou that his monster form was born from benevolent intent to protect people he loves, and his kindhearted personality. Unlike common monsters especially the criminal scums, Badd's motive is considered very pure.

It's kind of similar to what happened to Garou when he wanted to become monster: a noble intention to make himself a sacrifice target for humankind, so people would be united together and wont have to hurt eachother anymore, just focusing to defeat him only. Even though the plan was failed, he's glad that now he already found a new purpose.

 Garou had said to him back then, as a human monster himself, he understand how it feels to be transformed into something frightening and facing people's harsh misjudgement. But that's before Garou met Badd, who patiently coaxing him, giving his humanity back, and never afraid of his monster form.

 Now it's time for Garou to do the same things for his beloved "Angel", he wanted to make sure Badd feels loved despite after getting his new form so suddenly.

 During the process of learning with Garou, they also always make time to talking heart-to-heart about their own experiences when they're turning into monster form. That way, Badd slowly understand what hardship Garou had been through after all this time, and how much suffering his lover had felt during difficult time.

 It makes Badd became more empathetic towards Garou. They have bonded over the struggle to overcome their disadvantage under the same fate...

 --------------------------------

 Speaking of the same fate, Garou once asking Badd, could they be considered as Soulmates?

 Because their monster form are like a matching pair: Demon and Angel. Polar opposite, hellish versus heavenly, dark versus light, evil versus good, villain versus hero, always depicted as mortal enemies, but somehow looked fit together as dangerous complement pair.

It's not coincidental they also become a couple before Badd's monsterification, made it seems like Garou's Demon finally found its other half: Badd's Angel. Like Yin Yang, they complement each other.

 Not to mention, their first time meeting actually had Badd fell from the sky in front of Garou, just in time after Garou wished to meet Badd as soon as possible. Hence whenever someone asking how they met before, he always jokingly says that Badd was a godsend angel who has fallen from heaven and he caught him. Never thought that it would become real once Badd completed his monsterification: Badd is really an Angel!

And not some random Angel form, he got the form of highest rank Angel, the most beautiful and also most powerful, depicted as "fiery angel" who has a duty on performing purification. All of those descriptions suits Badd perfectly.

 Garou could say he was too stunned when he saw Badd's majestic new form at first time, he fell in love so much deeper than before. Finding out that your lover has a matching monster theme made you become extremely happy! That's what Garou was feeling at the time. Now they could be Demon-Angel monster pair together!

 But of course, Garou's first and main job is to make sure Badd feels comfort enough on his transformation, to teach Badd controling his monster form, and the most important is to give all the support and unconditional love for him.

 Slowly but sure, Garou would guide his lover to accepting himself. Just like what Badd had been doing to him in the past, when only Badd the person who brave enough to love and giving so much care for a "ultimate evil monster" until he can love himself for what he is.

 Badd has taught Garou that lesson, and now Garou wanted to do the same for him.

 With lots of patient and support, now look at them.

 Heroes Association has giving Badd permission to use his monster form while fighting, just like what Garou received years ago. Thus, Badd is allowed to transform whenever the situation required him to do so, as long as Garou supervised him.

They also already have people’s approval about their monster form, even people thought they’re really cool monster hero couple. People have a special nickname for both of them, something like “Knights of the Last Judgement”.

 Badd also have their family’s full support. Zenko, upon knowing his big brother's new form, never seems afraid for his intimidating figure. Not at all.

She even said Badd becomes even more cooler with that appearance, complimenting nonstop about the beauty of his "angelic" form. Badd is like, courtesy by Zenko, live-sized pretty angel doll.

And those fluffy six wings! Zenko asked Badd if she and Garou can buried themself into it and snuggle it, also if he can take her flying someday after a mission it seems very exciting for her! Badd can't say no to her.

 Bang didn't say much but Garou can see how much his master (or father, honestly) is very proud of Badd. He trusted Badd can handle his new form easily, just like the way he tamed Garou's monster side and helped Garou to become a better person.

That way, Bang gave his blessing for both Garou and Badd to use their other form, wishing them for the best.

 Those evidences had proved they all understand fully that deep down Badd is still remained as himself, nothing has really changed. Not even his new monstrous appearance can chance that fact...

 ---------------------------------

 As usual, Badd and Garou attended Heroes Association meeting along with another fellow S-Class heroes. Each of them were given a dangerous important mission, because on that day there are so many Dragon-level monsters attacking many cities at the same time.

Heroes Association executives under Sitch's order hoped that S-Class Heroes could aided A-Class heroes who currently battling the monsters and helped on evacuating civilians to the safer place.

 Everyone already got each of their own job to manage at different cities, while Badd and Garou were ordered to work in pair to fight a bunch of biggest monsters that heading towards City-S' border. Considering the huge amount and size of those monsters, also after receiving reports on how severe the monsters causing damages on the cities they have destroyed, Heroes Association recommended to send both Garou and Badd together at once, as their combined power could demolished those monsters without wasting much time.

 So, the S-Class heroes couple quickly heading towards the mission's location. As soon as they arrived, those monsters were already attacking city border while many B-Class heroes still in the middle of evacuating people, and some A-Class heroes trying to buy time by fighting or distracting the monster.

 Understand what they should do, Garou and Badd begin their job. At first, Garou divert the monsters' attention to him and riled them up so they only focused on Garou and Badd only. Then they're doing collaborated multiple attacks with coordinated strikes, cornering the monsters without stopping so they moved towards outside city border.

 It must be done like that to minimalize the destruction that both the heroes and the monsters caused in the city, also to reduce the risk of civilians getting involved into dangerous areas during fighting happen.

This new protocol was applied after the Hero Association reformed themself back then when Garou still being fugitive, so much things must be re-evaluated from the inside to make Hero Association better in the future.

 Succeeded at beating back and leading the monsters bunch into a remote area outside the city far from any population, now it's time for Garou and Badd finishing the job with their ultimate power. Concentrating on their aim and purpose, both of them begin the monsterification.

As soon as their "Fighting Spirit" activated, their human bodies slowly changed.

 Garou's body was engulfed by spinning dark spirals which growing from his left abdomen scars he got from Orochi's attack years ago, made him entirely covered by black hardened skin "armor" of his monster form, all of the nails on his long slender fingers turned into sharp claws, his bright yellow gold irises changed into vivid gold colored irises and his normally white scleras turned into red colored ones, and finally his snow white colored hair turned into black-and-white sharpened spiky hair before it formed into big pointy menacing horns.

Now, Garou was returned again on being the "Demon" Human Monster, bringing back his brutal satanic monstery image. He's ready to hunt again.

 Badd's entire body was glowing bright of white blinding light while emanating a dangerous aura, there's velvety ribbon-like white clothes appeared and wrapping his torso, Badd’s jet black hair rapidly turned into pure white colour, along with the halo-like appendage that circling around his head. And the last thing, he's sprouting six pairs of wide feathery wings from his back, all of them were beautiful fair white colored, at first the wings looked soft but as the "Fighting Spirit" building up in his body those feathers changed into razor-sharp needles.

Now, Badd revealed his other self to the enemies what is the meaning of "Avenging Angel", showing them how terrifying his Angel monster side is and how much he's fully capable to put the fear of god into their mind.

 Monster Garou smiling maniacally when he saw the monsters' terror-stricken expression on their face when they witnessing Monster Badd's imposing figure. Apparently they never heard of Hero Metal Bat's monsterification rumour before. Poor them, though. This will become the first time and the last time they ever seen Angel Monster Badd in action.

 Monster Badd has already in his fighting stance, signaling Monster Garou to be ready for their ultimate finishing moves.

With devilish smirk (Garou) and triumphant smile (Badd), together they shouted:

 [It's time for "slaughter party"/"punishment"!!]

 ----------------------------------

 In the end, everything went alright for the heroes, mission was successful just as planned. All of the monster attacks on several cities has been stopped. The Dragon-level monsters themself has already annihilated. Total building destructions and casualties has been minimized. Civillians who had been evacuated before can go back to their home and continuing their daily activities.

 Still standing in the middle of monsters remains and carcasses, Monster Garou and Monster Badd were basking in glorious victory of successful mission while calming themself from the rush of pumped up adrenaline in their bodies.

 Badd thinks he should be happy that at last they could finished their mission as soon as possible. It's just... Badd feel so tired. Not only physically, because of his monsterifaction had been eating most of his energy, but also emotionally. He's practically drained.

 Today was supposed to be his 22th birthday celebration, where he originally wanted to spend his family time with Zenko and Garou only. It's one of few times Badd could be taking a day-off so he would arranging a private small party with Zenko (now also with Garou) in their home without any people trying to disturb them.

But unfortunately, he got a sudden emergency call from Heroes Association, who gave a dangerous mission and it's the very important one because only S-Class heroes could solved it, so Garou and him must go to do their work. Despite with heavy heart...

 Badd just couldn't reject the hero obligation, it's always been duty come first then their own life. That's the contract and consequences of become S-Class hero, he already knew it very well. But still... It's feel disheartening.

 Decided to take a rest until his body reverted back into human form, Monster Badd gave a cue for Monster Garou that he will moving to more comfortable place to lay on at the area around them. He's flapping his enormous fluffy wings and then takes off from his previous spot, began to searching where he could rest on.

 The battle against the monster enemies took a place near a meadow, not too far from where they stand before, which consist of both grass field and flower field.

Monster Badd carefully landing on the flower field, walking towards the center of it, then proceed to flopping down face first in the middle of flower field, made the flower petals bursted in the air from the impact. He's incapable of sprawling on his back because of his huge wings so it'll be better to lie his tired and worn out body down just like this.

 He hated to feel let down and disappointed, when he should be stay energized or at least feels cuddly enough to have some "monster-loving" moment with his lover. Badd could sensed Garou has already noticed what he's feeling right now, that's because Badd acted unusually dejected since they have finished their mission. He didn't want to make Garou worried but he can't help it.

 It's already bad that he's already depleted of his stamina, now his emotional burden makes it worse. He didn't have energy for flapping his wings to both fly and carrying Garou who still in his monster form back to their home anymore, so he's just take the last resort to stay lying down horizontally on the dirt until his body shifted back again.

 Maybe after this he could ask Garou to carry him back instead. For now, Badd just wanna sleep for awhile, surrounded by flower bush.

 Where is his boyfriend right now? Shouldn't Garou followed and joined him like usual? Like, suddenly appeared next to him without warning and immediately buried himself on his huge fluffy wings and snuggle them while holding him tightly? Whispering soothing and loving words to calm him down from battle adrenaline, or kissing him tenderly to remind how much Garou love him..

 Good. Now he's craving for all of Garou's affections. He needs them, right now. But he didn't have any energy to call him anymore..

Slowly closing his eyes, Badd was waiting for Garou's arrival for any seconds.

 ---------------------------------

 It hurts Garou's heart terribly to see his lover in a miserable mood. He can't watch him moping in sadness like this, especially on his birthday date. Of course they still could celebrate his birthday party later on the day, as it's still much time left.

 But Garou understand Badd's feeling, that deep down he felt disappointed his anticipated plan was ruined by this emergency mission.

No matter how Badd trying to hide or deny it, Garou just. Know.

 Afterall, they have been bonded since long time ago, right? That their heart practically become one: they would know what they are thinking or feeling without saying any word.. or maybe they just sharing one functional braincell?

 It's time for Garou to cheer Badd up! Maybe he could find something that would lifted Badd's mood. He observed their location's surrounding and environment, so far he's only seeing flower field with various flower plants on it. All of them kinda looked pretty--

Oh, Garou got an idea! Even though it's just a simple thing, Garou was sure Badd would appreaciate it...

 -----------------------------

 In half-sleeping state, Monster Badd could hear Garou's voice from afar, or rather his monster form's voice, there's a bit different. Followed by the sounds of both his footsteps and soft rustle of grass leaves. Until it stopped just right a few meters from where Monster Badd was sleeping.

 He called Monster Badd gently so he would wake up and sit for awhile. But he also asked him to close his eyes until he tell him otherwise. Monster Badd didn't understand what Monster Garou was planning but he complied to his requests.

 Slowly but surely, Monster Badd lifted his worn out body from the ground, brushing the dirt off from his velvety clothes, enormous wings also starts flapping to shake off any leftover dust or dirt on his body.

 Once Monster Badd was awake and changed his position into a sitting position, he was told by Monster Garou that he can open his eyes now. Right at the moment, Monster Badd could feel something was poured on his body from above.

 Curiously, he opened his eyes and looked around.

 He was surprised by Monster Garou hovering over him, while sprinkling, or more like throwing, a lots of tiny colourful flower petals on Monster Badd's hair and his pretty wings. Soon enough, Monster Badd's entire figure was decorated by those pretty flower petals.

 Still confused about what had just happened, Monster Badd found Monster Garou already standing very close, just right before him, slowly and gently tilted his chin up, and kissed him softly yet passionately. It made him letting out a whimper followed by soft moans.

He really loves it whenever Monster Garou kissing him, it feels like he consumed all the fire that "the Demon" has been offering to him from the kisses. He was in bliss.

 When Monster Garou released their kiss, he cupped and caressing Monster Badd's soft cheeks tenderly, gaze deeply into his eyes and whispering,

 "Happy Birthday, my beloved Angel. May happiness will always given to you",

 with a raspy voice, yet in very affectionate tone, before giving a lingering kiss on Monster Badd's forehead.

 Monster Badd was strucked by Monster Garou's sweet gesture. He didn't expected that his lover would gives him a thoughful surprise present like this. Yes, it was a simple thing but it's really brings him a lots of joy.

And the huge amount of love he was receiving from Garou... He feels like his heart would bursting from the happiness.

Garou really care for him, and that single truth was enough to make Badd back to his happy self.

 Then, the next thing happened truly made Monster Garou left astonished for a hot minute:

 Monster Badd was giving Monster Garou his sweetest smile and laugh in his majestic angelic form. Complete with bright light that emanating from Monster Badd's figure whenever he's in happy mood or in fighting mood. And those various tiny colourful flower petals sprinkles on his flawless body, on his silky smooth pure white Angel hair, and his soft feathered wings, somehow made him even more beautiful than before..

 For him, it was the most gorgeous thing Garou ever seen in his life. He was too stunned to move or even blinking his eyes just from witnessing majestic angelic Badd's precious smile.

And his laugh was the most mellifluous voice he ever heard, it sounds like a heavenly music in his ears.

Is this how an angel sings in heaven? He was lucky enough to have one performing it to him right now.

 Watching his lover finally back to being happy again today, in the most beautiful monster form that Garou have ever seen, on this beautiful and serene flowery scenery, it made Garou's heart fluttering.

He wants to pampering Badd more and spoiled him rotten after they get back to their home.

 Make his lover's birthday feel special today! Heroes Association's mission report be damned. Those can go to hell, Badd's well-being is the top priority right now.

 Monster Garou noticed that Monster Badd still smiling softly at him, who suddenly opened his arms wide, enthusiastically asking Monster Garou for some loving hugs. The Angel wanted to hold his Demon as tight as possible, as he also wanted to convey how grateful he is for the heartwarming gift he received before.

 With a grin full of fondness, he picked Monster Badd up and held him in his strong arms, kissing his silky soft white hair that full of tiny flower petals. While Monster Badd encircled his arms around Monster Garou's neck, and his huge white fluffy wings covered them both so they would be as close as possible in an intimate embrace.

 Neither of them had realized that some reporters and photographers were approaching while taking videos or pictures of them from afar..

 And neither of them seems to care for that, all that matters are the warm embrace, sweet nothings words and love vows they whispered softly to each other, and the love they have been sharing during their intimate moment together...

 -------------------------------

 Hours later, Badd and Garou, who are already back in their human form, were seen walking side-by-side together on their way back home in City-S. Despite still being tired as hell, in tattered clothes, and also looked a bit bloodied with some monster blood smeared on them, too. But they both seems happy, nonetheless.

 They just don't care for people around them, who are either admiring their heroic deeds or giving weird look on their battle-ragged appearance. Both only have focus on eachother, enjoying quality time by chatting casually while handholding together, re-planning for Badd's small birthday party with Zenko once they get back to home, or just sharing sneaky kisses on the cheek during walking.

 Just when they're taking a stroll in the middle of S-City downtown, something happened unexpectedly. On a big screen in the S-City downtown, there's a birthday celebration video broadcast for Badd. It consist of 3 main video contents:

Firstly, a beautiful angelic Monster Badd smiling sweetly with many tiny and pretty colourful flower petals decorating his form and his white fluffy six-wings, surrounded by flower field and green scenery, his expression looked so majestic and heavenly, truly like a godsend Angel because he rarely showing this special kind of softest smile ever,

 Secondly, a scene of Monster Garou hugged Monster Badd very tenderly, full of affection, revealing the softer side of both Garou and Badd, also showing pure sweet intimacy, emotional support, and huge amount of unconditional love that have been shared between the S-Class monster heroes,

 Lastly, a huge congratulatory message "Happy Birthday, S-Class Hero Metal Bat!", followed by the compilation of many smaller congratulatory messages from fellow heroes or important figures.

 At the end of video broadcast, people around them clapping simultanously together while apparently Garou, being the best boyfriend ever, start to sing "Happy Birthday song" for Badd in the midst of clapping. Hence everyone can't help but also followed his lead to participate in singing the song along with Garou.

 Those spontaneous and voluntary actions quickly brought Badd to tears, he's very touched by the fact everyone around him actually cared enough for him, despite he didn't ask anything from them. He feels so loved right now.

 Not to mention, once again Garou doing something wonderful to him, successfully giving a lots of joyness just to make Badd's spirit lifted again. He couldn't think if he can pay all of Garou's kindness he did today, because he knows Garou would says, "No, just let me pamper you in YOUR SPECIAL DAY. Please don't fight me on this I beg you".

 At the end of Birthday song choir, everyone cheered on him and giving a loud standing applause. Badd just flopped down sitting on the ground, he's crying so hard from the sheer happiness. Garou immediately come to his side consoling him, wiping his tears off. Once Badd stopped crying, Garou congratulate Badd again before kissing his tears streaked cheek, which causing even more louder applause.

 Applause sounds then also added with many other voices, such as cheering, cat calling, hollering, praises, congratulatory, complain for their PDA, and many more noises. Seeing all being very caring to them, Badd wanted to cry happily again. And then he’s really bawling in the middle of City-S main street, in the arms of his very confused dorky boyfriend, in the center of equally confused people’s attention.

 After a lot consoling by Garou to make Badd calmed himself again, both of them thanking all the people for their kindness. Of course it followed by everyone thanking them instead, for being very good heroes who always protected people.

 Just when Badd and Garou start to continue their walking, Badd's phone suddenly ringing. It was a call from Zenko. She questioned where are they right now and why did they still haven't at home at this hours. They feel so bad for making Zenko got worried alone in their home.

 But of course Zenko didn't forget to congratulate his dear big brother for his 22th birthday, wishing for all the happiness and prosperities for Badd. She then ended her call by saying,

"I love you, Badd-niichan! Please go home ASAP with Garou-niichan I just finished baking your birthday cake we can eat it together. Hurry up before Tama stepping on your birthday cake frosting again like 2 years ago!".

 With that, Badd urged Garou to quickened their steps, basically asking Garou to have impromptu race competition against him. Seems like got an energy boost from Fighting Spirit, Badd immediately start running towards their home leaving his boyfriend behind. Garou just smiling amusedly before joined running to catch up to his lover in a race.

 Badd was very grateful for everything that happened to him today. This is his BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!

  -THE END-

  -------------------------------

 EPILOGUE

 The next day, so many weekly heroes magazines or fashion magazines begin to publishing Monster Badd's beautiful pictures. From the photo collections, pin-ups, posters, magazine covers, or even as aesthetic photographs using his famous Birthday documentation that has been made from yesterday. The one with flower petals is the most favorite.

 Those are really loved by people, all of them. It also indirectly helped raising Badd's popularity as an S-Class hero among civillians and fellow heroes. Badd was so happy, because it seems everyone was accepting his monsterous (or angelic) form completely by now. No more ill-judgement towards him, only enthusiastic acceptance.

 Of course Garou enjoyed this trends as well. He proceed to hoard all of newest "Angel Monster" Metal Bat merchandises and premium edition of Monster Badd photo collections in their bedroom. Badd wasn't sure if he should feels flattered, happy, proud, exasperated, flustered, or embarrassed.

 While Badd still blushing hard by Garou's antics, Garou hugged Badd from behind, keeping his adorable lover in his strong arms. He whispered,

 "Don't worry babe, I just wanted to support you. Beside, I already got the best one that nobody else have: YOU. You're my beloved Angel... and I'm so lucky to have you in my life. Thank you Badd, for being the most beautiful monster, most amazing Angel for my own Demon".

 Badd smiled happily in respond, he turned his head a bit to catch Garou's lips in a heartful kiss.

 "You're welcome, Demon-boy", he answered as Garou tightening their loving embrace.

  -TRUE HAPPY END-

  😈💙❤😇🌸🌸🎂🎁🎉🎊

 Notes:

 If there’s anyone who still haven’t know about the origin of this AU, these are the illustrations for Angel Monster Badd, drawn by @the-goddessfighter, which are used for the story (he looks so beautiful in these drawings, tysm Temperans-sama! 💖):

 •https://the-goddessfighter.tumblr.com/post/625111244297453568/ (Badd's monster form concept art)

•https://the-goddessfighter.tumblr.com/post/626035692265488384/ (NSFW! with Demon Monster Garou)

 So, this idea was created when I was thinking about,

"What if Angel Monster Badd smiling sweetly for Demon Monster Garou with tiny flower petals decorating his hair, his body and his six-wings while surrounded by colourful flower field?".

 I really wanted to see him like that, the imagery seems beautiful in my imagination. So soft, so pretty, so majestic...

I know Badd is already a very beautiful man, but his Seraphim-like monster form, especially his angelic feature combined with tiny flowery decoration... While giving his special smile for his lover..

I'M MELTING FROM THE SWEETNESS 😳💕💖😇🌸🌺🌼🌷🌹

 If there's someone willing to make an illustration for this particular image, or just any scene from this story, I will be forever grateful for that! 😳😍👍💖✨

Pleaaseee make this happen aaaa-- 😣💦😭🙏💝

 I hope you like it, Temperans-sama! Just think of it as my birthday cake treat for you, please enjoy it 😉🎂🍰💝

Also, this is my grateful gift after you gave me the MAJESTIC Monster Demon&Angel Batarou (the HOLY F*CK™ art 😋👍😈👉👌💦🔥💕💖😇) on last month, thank you so muuuch I LOVE IT! 😘💋❤💜💙💖💝💐

 On the other hand, although my writing skill is very far from being decent or enjoyable (actually I don't have that talent whatsoever I'm just trying to scribble down a bunch of random headcanons, lol), I still want to share happiness by sharing it to everyone in the fandom!

Because this year I can celebrate my birthday with Batarou fandom. I love you guys! 😚💕

 Thank you so much for accepting me in the fandom *bows deeply* 😭🙏🙇💕💖

   Temperans_ First: this is beautiful by any measure, second: this must be the most passive-aggressive media stalking ever. They were lucky they were just doing sweet things. And if the temperature rises, doing what we already know in the field of flowers???? OMG what would they have put on the screens? I want to think that they "respectfully" would have left them alone. Anyway, this gave me a lot of encouragement to start classes again tomorrow. I am so grateful that you took a whole month to prepare for this. You are a valuable member of the fondom and no one can deny it.

 Dedicated for:

@the-goddessfighter, @beautifulnightmareus, @kaincuro, @metalbatandzenko , @guby1620, @irisvseyelash, @jusqu-une-etudiante, @garous-nipple, @charmehs, @aforrestofstuff, @dies-first, @personne-tmblr, @mythic-blood, @justin-peudeau, @nancchan, @no1deahowthiswork, @freedomaboveallelse, @rayadraws, @guppys-paw, @mydearmagnoliamay