#and id look forward to reading his feedback as well..... its one of the most precious dynamics we had early in our relationship

[afriendofblahaj]

YURI UPDATE THE SECOND

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Tw: Violence, some child abuse

This is my first attempt at writing anything not for a class or application, so please be nice, but I would love any feedback, positive or negative on my writing, id like to improve.

If you would like to be added to the tag list just ask! Ill be posting progress as i write it, and then posting the finished story when i am done, so if you'd like to read it all at once and avoid spoilers, the story is under the cut, and ill make a post once its complete.

Sienna mumbled goodbyes to her father, who grunted but barely looked up from the red hot metal he was working into chain links on the anvil. As she walked out the door, she momentarily stopped to enjoy the early morning sun on her face, the air still crisp from the fog that was receding into the forest, and listen to the birds chirp as the dipped and dived around the stalls being put out by shop owners all around her. Sienna knew that her chores were fairly simple today, but they were long, so she soon snapped out of it, and picked up her feet to trudge forward. The stones leading up to the front door of their small shop were cute, winding their way through the small garden her father had started as a hobby before reaching the road. Unfortunately, the soot from the furnace had a habit of collecting on the shop floor, and the bits of burned wood and metal particulates loved to stick into the leather bottoms of the shoes of anyone who entered the shop, no matter how careful they were to avoid it. The only thing the ash loved more than leather, however, were the porous stones that offered a path through the garden, and so inevitably as customers and family alike left the shop, the stones would become quickly covered in a layer of the nasty dust. Sienna walked down the dirt path her father used to pick veggies that ran parallel to the stones, and carefully swept off the stones, careful to not get any on her clothes. Sienna’s father had consulted with a local druid who made elixirs and spells for gardening, and she had tested many different species of plants before demonstrating to him that beans and root vegetables both grew well with the addition of the wood ash, and so he planted these right along the path, so Sienna merely spread the ash gently over these plants, careful not to damage them. She remembered how lucky she was to even have this option, her mother had protested when her father had talked to the druid, yelling one night while Sienna pressed her pillow over her ears “She doesn't need a goddamn crutch, she can sweep the ash into a bag and take it out, stop bending over for her.”

Her father hadn’t stood up for her, but the plants were moved anyways, not out of any compassion for Sienna, but because the druid said the ash could help balance the soil, and he would do anything for his plants to grow marginally better.

Snapping out of her memories, she slowly finished sweeping the stones, her body still sore, protesting the movement, but the pain always subsided after she worked out, the exertion of the morning exhausted the pain out of her. Looking at the plants around her, she craved the sweet berries that hung from the leaves, but she knew to take one would be a bad idea, so she took a sip of water from the jug near the well, and crept around the outside of the house to the window over her bed. She reached her hand up and slid her fingers along the sill until she reached what she was looking for. Years ago, she had met a rogue traveling through town, and convinced him to help her craft a small compartment that slotted into the wooden sill, so when she pressed her fingers down onto the correct place, a small box popped up with a pop. Careful to ensure the coiled metal stayed in place beneath the box, she counted out a silver and two copper coins from her stash. Most of them came from the same raven that had nabbed the pendant from the shop, she hadn’t even intended to receive coins, she just saw the bird shivering one cold morning, and offered it a bit of bread she had dipped in soup. Soon enough, the bird came back regularly, and after a few weeks of regular treats (and some odd bits of trash the raven brought her in return) he even let her gently touch him, softly stroking the feathers on his majestic back. Over time, she could do more and more with him, plucking bits of debris from his feathers, straightening ruffles, and the gifts increased both ways, food for him, and bits of anything shiny for her, including some coins. 

The rest of the coins in her box she got from diving. There was a small lake up near the castle and royal houses where the upper class folk liked to swim, and for a reason she could never understand, they routinely dropped coins into its murky waters. Under the pretense of swimming laps to work out, (the royals would open the lake to members of the ring for training once or twice a week) she would dive down, as if to test her breath, then surface, but with a copper coin or two in her fists. Sometimes she would get lucky and find a silver coin, and once she found a whole gold coin, which went straight to medical supplies to treat her wounds.

Sienna pressed the box back into place, slipped the coins into a special pouch she had sewn into her waistband, and crept back around the house, careful not to be seen. There, she verified she was done with the stones once more, and propped the broom against the wall. She would need to be back in the garden before long, but she was allotted a short break for each task she finished, so she took off in a run down the narrow streets. She didn't have long, but she enjoyed the run, the movement erasing any feeling she had in her body except for the running itself. She focused on the way her feet hit the cobbles, making micro-adjustments in her ankle to compensate for the shifting stones, the way her arms moved as she rounded corners, leaning into each turn, she knew the route by heart. As she got into the center of town, the number of people, carts, and creatures of all kinds clogging the streets increased with each block, and the running slowed to a gentle jog, becoming a mental exercise in dodging the ever growing number of other inhabitants of the road. Sienna expertly twisted her body as she moved, sliding between the other inhabitants and the physical obstacles around her, sliding to a stop in the market at her favourite stand. She didn’t often have the time to make it down into town, and besides, her parents didn’t know she had any money anyways so she was here a lot less than she would have liked, but Sienna really enjoyed talking with the elf who ran a small fruit stand, and she always brought a 12 copper for 5 of her favourite fruit which only cost 2 copper a piece. To thank her for her generosity, the owner would always make sure to have the best berries saved for her, and would help her with anything else he could. The elf led a simple life farming berries in a cottage near the woods, and while he wished he could do more for Sienna, he knew that he could never stand up to her parents for her, they were too physically violent for him to directly defy. Instead, he did all he could whenever Sienna would come to his stand, helping her with her wounds, giving her advice, and sneaking extra food into her pack when she wasn't looking. Sienna seemed stressed today, and while she knew he only wanted to help, he understood that his help could sometimes put her in more danger, so he simply handed her the fruit with a smile and squeezed her hand, wishing he could do more for the poor young woman. Sometimes the elf considered rejecting the extra money she always left him (goodness knows she needed it more than him) but when he tried before she never relented, insisting that he take the extra two copper pieces. Sienna thanked her friend and turned on her heels, knowing she was pushing her time. She bit into her berries as she ran, the juice on her face would be a problem later but she didn't have time to consider that now. She sprinted full force back up the streets home, the panic of the ticking clock causing her to stumble on the uneven streets as she rounded the corner just in time to see her mother place the last of the dishes in the cupboard, and Sienna knew she would have just seconds to get to work before her mother could come outside to check, so she slid across the dirt into an unplanted area of the garden, pulled out the trowel from her waistband, and began to dig the small holes that her father had showed her to make a week prior. The door opened, and by the speed, Sienna knew something had happened to her mother. The door slammed into the wall, but despite the noise causing even the birds hopping about the garden to startle and fly away, Sienna didn’t see it, as the sunlight caused the glass shards on her mothers overalls to glisten, and Sienna realised that her mother had broken yet another glass. While the anger would make the next few hours worse, Sienna smiled internally, knowing she could add to her project she was making when she couldn’t sleep at night.

While she continued to punch holes in the dirt for the seeds her father was going to plant, her mind wandered to her bedroom, where tucked under her bed was a small chest that had been slowly growing fuller over the months. Inside, she had saved every scrap of broken glass she could find, and nicked a small bit of metal from her fathers shop. She melted down the scraps of slag that shot off when he hammered a molten piece and landed in small puddles on the floor, giving her a small chunk of metal that no one would miss. On those long sleepless nights where the arguing and smashing of furniture filled her ears, Sienna would gently heat and work the metal into long thin strips, sticking it to the edge of the glass shards with resin she scooped from a tree in the alley. When she had a piece of glass completely bordered by metal, she took another finished piece, and heated the metal just enough that when she pressed the two pieces together the metal strips would bond, creating a beautiful mosaic of shattered glass, held together with borders of forgotten metal. Sometimes when no one else was home she’d take the growing sheet from its hiding place, and hold it up to the sunlight, letting the golden beams twist and distort as they passed through it. Some of the glass was coloured, and the patterns it cast on the wall left her enamored. Often, small animals would creep out from their hiding places to stare at the light that danced across the wall, and some would watch in curiosity at the girl making the light move with her shaky hands. Sometimes the bunnies or mice would gently scurry over Sienna, sniffing and gently touching her as she sat cross legged on the floor. She always did her best to stay still, but many times one of them would inevitably gently touch one of her wounds, and she would yelp in pain, causing them to scatter, and the light seemed to fade no matter how brightly the sun shone. Sienna wished that she could be in her room right now, lit only by the light through the glass mosaic, animals all around her. She swore for a second that she was there when she felt one of them brush against her, then jumped in fear as she realised it was her father. She was so lost in thought that she didn't realise she had nearly reached the end of the row she was supposed to dig, and the sun was much higher in the sky than when she started. Sienna shook the cobwebs from her brain, then looked up at her father who told her that she had done enough, finishing most of the row in half the time he had allotted. She heard her mother grunt in disapproval, but she couldn't focus on that right now. Despite being given what could be perceived as good news by others, Sienna was filled with dread, knowing what was coming, and sinking inside of herself, her ears ringing as all the other noises and light faded away.

Tag List (ive added everyone who showed interest on the poll, if you'd like to be removed from the tag list please let me know):

@alicethethreshershark @useless-transbian @shark-tranny @theasexualagent @bikindashyandreadytocry @toppettehat @twohundredfiftynine @spaghettihell @thesillytransgirlnova @lostshulkerbox

[heejinnien]

bts | roses chapter three

word count: 3.0k words

pairing: bts x reader

synopsis: y/n is a member of the seoul behavioral analysis unit. usually, she’s the cat in the typical game of cat and mouse played with the criminals they catch, but when a mysterious string of murders has her on edge, she discovers she’s caught the attention of one of a dangerous criminal — and he’s determined to make her pay for it.

or, not all attention is the good kind.

genre: horror, angst

warnings: yandere themes, descriptions of gore, descriptions of violence, murder, the reader carries a gun because they need to defend themself against bad guys, guns, manipulation, victim blaming, this is overall just a very dark fic

author’s note: originally, i was going to end this series at this chapter; however, i think it makes the most sense to end this chapter where i did. note that i updated the rosses masterlist according to my new plans for roses. as always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or dm, or just let me know your thoughts! i would be happy to explain things to you, and i would also love to hear your feedback or who you think is suspicious. as always, adhere to the warnings and do not read if any of those things trigger you.

roses masterlist

You pace the length of the ER’s waiting room, chewing your bottom lip nervously.

The rest of your team is assembled around you in various states of being, the same gnawing worry that you feel reflected on their features. Jungkook sprawls listlessly on an overstuffed armchair, Jimin stares stoically at nothing, Hoseok holds an angry staring contest with a potted poinsettia, Namjoon speaks furiously into his phone, and Jin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the locks of his hair. You have never seen your team look so despondent, so heartbroken before, and the sight makes your heart wrench.

The sound of footsteps cause your head to snap up.

“Agents.” A kindly looking woman gives you a sympathetic smile, eyes raking in the various states of your team. Her white lab coat signifies her status, and your heart jumps at the sight.

“How is he, Dr. Chou?” You ask, reading the ID card pinned on the doctor’s coat.

“Please, call me Tzuyu.” She clears her throat, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. “Dr.  Taehyung had a lot of bleeding, both internally and externally, and, quite frankly, it’s a miracle he didn’t bleed out on the way here.”

“Was all of the bleeding from the stab wounds?” Namjoon asks, managing to retain his professionalism and composure despite the fact that it’s Taehyung that you’re talking about.

“The external bleeding was,” Tzuyu confirms. “The internal bleeding was due to damage to some of Dr. Taehyung’s organs. It appears that whoever attacked this young agent also beat him, causing this damage.”

The thought of Taehyung — sweet, loveable Taehyung — being beaten and stabbed by the unsub your team has been trying to catch makes your head swim. Your hand shoots out, using the wall to hold yourself up, to hold yourself together. You feel Jungkook stand, resting a hand on your arm and murmuring something consolatory, but it feels as though nothing can take away the deep ache that has formed inside of you.

Tzuyu continues talking, but you can’t bring yourself to care. After all, who gave you the right to be here, alive and well, when Taehyung lies on his possible death bed?

“All I can say is, it’s lucky you found him when you did, Agent Y/N.” Your name from the doctor causes your attention to return to the current conversation, the crashing guilt pushed aside for a moment. “Much longer and Dr. Taehyung may have bled out.”

Tzuyu gives you another sympathetic smile, before gesturing behind her. “I have to return to work, but you’re welcome to visit your teammate. Unfortunately, there’s no way to tell when he’ll wake up, but we’re hoping for the best.”

Namjoon gives Tzuyu his thanks as you attempt to process the doctor’s words. Jungkook’s hand is warm against your skin, and you’re sure if it wasn’t there you would be lost, ungrounded from the world.

You’re a federal agent, for God’s sake, so why can’t you pull yourself together?

“Y/N.”

Your head snaps up as Namjoon calls your name, eyes coldly appraising you. His face is expressionless, but Namjoon subtly threatening to remove you from the case rings in your head. You notice that sometime while you were lost, drowning in your uncertainties the rest of the team stood from their various positions around the waiting room, faces grim. They gather around you and Namjoon, waiting to hear your leader’s next move. Now that your attention is focused on him, Namjoon clears his throat, no trace of any emotions except professionalism apparent from him.

“Y/N, Jimin, and Hoseok, I would like you to remain here. Jimin and Hoseok, run through a cognitive interview with Y/N and see we can determine anything that might indicate as to why the unsub attacked Taehyung. The rest of you will come with me back to the station. We’re going to be working similarly on the unsub’s motives, but we’ll be using the evidence we’ve gathered so far to see if we can link it to Taehyung.”

Your teammates nod, the team’s usually determined energy following the command of orders now subdued. Jungkook squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before following Namjoon out of the waiting room, Jin giving you a small smile and following suit. You stand after they’ve gone, shifting awkwardly. You’re too embarrassed by your unprofessionalism, by the way that this case has affected you when the rest of your team seems to be keeping themselves level.

“I know after everything doing a cognitive isn’t exactly what you want to do right now, but…” Hoseok’s voice trails off as he and Jimin stand beside you, uncertain.

“I get it,” you say, giving Hoseok a tight smile. “It’s all part of the job.”

Jimin motions for you to take a seat on the overstuffed armchair Jungkook had vacated earlier and you do. Tension seeps through each of your limbs, and Jimin notices, grabbing one of your hands and sitting across from you.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. We’re right here with you,” Jimin says reassuringly.

You swallow dryly, nodding. Your free hand taps against your leg, and your back is stiff as you sit as straight as a rod. You close your eyes, exhaling, and force yourself to return to when you found Taehyung.

“Walk us through how you stumbled across Taehyung’s body,” Hoseok says, voice sounding from your right. You nod, swallowing quickly.

“I stayed late to review the case files. It was getting late, and I knew that the team had taken the rest of the unit’s vehicles so I was looking on my phone for a rideshare service app.” You pause, taking a shaky breath. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I remember pushing open the doors to the station, and I had only made it a few feet when I tripped. I remember falling forward, and when I regained my bearings I noticed that my hands were coated with blood.”

You swallow harshly, free hand clenching into a fist. “You’re doing great, Y/N,” Jimin coos, rubbing his thumb idly against the back of your hand. You force yourself to count to ten before continuing.

“The first thing I noticed was a foot, and that the foot was attached to a leg, and I followed it upwards until I saw… Taehyung. He was unconscious, and there was so much blood everywhere.”

“Can you remember anything specifically about the scene?” Hoseok asks gently.

“I just remember the smell of all that blood.” You choke out. “I think it was still seeping out when I found him.”

“So he must have been attacked not too long before you found him, then,” Jimin assumes.

“What was Taehyung doing at the police station?” Hoseok presses. “Did you hear anything from him?”

“No, I thought he left with you guys,” you say, frowning.

“He did, but when we heard that Taehyung had been attacked and we went to drive here, one of the vehicles had been taken,” Jimin supplies. “He must have taken it to get back to the station, I’ll call Namjoon and see if the vehicle’s there.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. What was Taehyung doing at the station that late at night? 

“Surely you know something.” Hoseok says, voice infused with a cold undertone that you can’t detect. Your eyes snap open in disbelief at his statement, and Hoseok coldly appraises you, as if you’re lying.

“I’ve told you everything I remember,” you say defensively.

Despite your refusal, Hoseok continues, coiled like a snake about to pounce on its victim. “Maybe you called Taehyung back to the station so you could attack him because he knew something you didn’t want us to find out. The unsub has taken an uncanny interest in you Y/N, why is that?”

“Hoseok, enough,” Jimin stands, his chair rubbing against the hospital’s floor loudly. The sound makes you wince, and Hoseok pounces on the sight, striking.

“Everyone thinks you’re this perfect little angel, Y/N, but why don’t you tell us the truth? I bet you enjoyed hurting Taehyung, feeling his bones break as you beat him repeatedly. You try to act innocent, but sweetheart, I can see right through you.”

The gleam in Hoseok’s eye is feral, sadistic. Jimin shoves him backwards angrily, but the action is drowned out as you’re lost in the anger in Hoseok’s eyes.

You feel so small, so powerless, and something inside you snaps.

“Go to hell, Jung Hoseok,” you hiss, shoving past your teammates. You don’t care where you’re going as long as it’s away, and you swipe furiously at the angry tears that have fallen. You ignore Jimin’s cries for you to come back, your feet on autopilot as you shove open doors and storm down unfamiliar hallways. 

Somehow, you find yourself on the hospital rooftop. It’s still dark out, and a soft breeze gently wraps around you, ruffling your hair and slipping under the edges of your clothing. It calms you, and you wander to the rooftop’s edge, leaning against the iron railing wrapping around the rooftop’s length.

Since it’s the crack hours of the morning, the sound of traffic is dimmed. Neon lights and gentle hues paint the city skyline, and it feels peaceful.

You used to be naive until you joined the NIS. You didn’t believe that people were capable of such vile and despicable things, and most of all you hadn’t known the true depths of the evil that reside in the city, in the world, unless you had seen everything that you had. You don’t think you can ever get used to the sadness you feel whenever someone innocent loses their life, the disgust or horror you feel whenever someone commits a heinous crime.

The soft creak of a door being pushed open pierces the night’s tranquility. Quiet footsteps sound behind you until you see a familiar profile from your peripheral lean beside you. You aren’t ready to speak, to face the reality that is outside the peacefulness you’ve constructed for yourself here, and so you are content to remain, unwilling to break the fragile silence.

“It’s beautiful up here,” he says finally, and his voice drags you back to reality, forces you to accept the truths of the world all over again.

“It is,” you say honestly. “It makes you forget the horrors that happen down there on the streets.”

He hums noncommittally, and you wonder what’s going through his mind. Out of all of your teammates, he always seems to be the most collected whenever you hear news that makes you want to vomit, the most unflinching when when trying to reason with the most depraved souls, the most calm when you hear that yet another innocent life has been taken.

“Things won’t always be like this, you know.” He says, pulling you out of your once more spiralling thoughts. “I was like you, at first. There will always be bad guys, but it gets easier.”

You shudder at the thought that one day, the loss of an innocent life may not bother you anymore, may not matter as much as it should.

“I hope not,” you admit, and you know it’s true. You turn, scanning the face of your teammate for any traces that he feels the way you do. Jimin’s face is unreadable as he studies you in return, pain and frustration filling the void between you and melting away to tenderness and care.

“For your sake, I hope not, too.”

“Let’s review our profile.”

Your team gathers around the conference room table, grim expressions adorning their faces. Taehyung’s vegetative state weighs heavily on your minds, and you’re all blatantly exhausted. You feel powerless — usually you’re the cat in a game of cat and mouse with your unsubs, but this time you’re the one being preyed on. Namjoon speaks from the head of the table, pinning crime scene photographs on a bulletin board behind him as he speaks.

“So far we know our unsub is calculated, controlling, and sadistic. They’re most likely a he due to the strength required to subdue the victims, as well as the violent nature of the wounds inflicted upon each of the victims.”

“We also know he loves taunting us, which factors into his control,” Jin adds. “He took a huge risk using lamb’s blood and leaving roses — both of those could have easily been traced back to him.”

“But they weren’t because he’s smart enough not to get caught, which speaks to who he is,” Hoseok chimes in. “Maybe he has some sort of criminal background.”

“He chose high risk victims,” Jungkook says, clearing his throat. “Speaks to his confidence in his abilities.”

“For the first few victims he dyed their hair,” Jimin adds, confirming Jungkook’s statement. “He used excessive overkill when he murdered them, and then dumped their bodies in alleys to be found.”

“The coroner confirmed the victims had been dead for at least twelve hours by the time they were found, but each victim went missing a few days before then.”

“He even sent me notes directly, which means he wants us to feel that he’s in charge.” You stare at the mahogany table as you speak, Hoseok’s gaze burning. You refuse to meet his gaze, instead choosing to flicker your gaze between your other teammates as you speak. Hoseok’s accusation still rings in your head, and you’ve refused to speak to him since then. Your other teammates have noticed the icy distance you’ve kept from Hoseok, but nobody has dared to mention anything. “He’s toying with us, this is all a game to him.”

“Yet he said it was our fault, as if he’s telling us we’re supposed to stop him,” Jungkook says. He nods once in your direction — brief, but you know that it is his way of showing you support. The action causes a warmth to spread through you, as if he has helped you to gain footing in a tumultuous storm.

“As the unsub murdered more victims, he got sloppier. The stab wounds were less deep, which is probably due to the decreased amount of time the unsub kept the victims for.”

The sound of a phone ringing cuts Jin off, and Namjoon turns, pulling out his phone in one motion and setting it on the table, saying, “What is it, Yoongi?”

“So, I was doing some digging and apparently the cardstock that each of the notes were written on can only be bought online from a specific retailer.” He snorts, and the sound of typing fills in Yoongi’s silence. “Our unsub has expensive taste, I’ll say that. That cardstock is not cheap. So, I tracked the most recent shipping to an abandoned apartment complex, and, get this, the address also had a bouquet of roses sent to it recently.”

Your heart races as Yoongi’s words register. Around you, your team is already in action and you struggle to keep up, shoving your case file in your bag and checking that your gun is holstered.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” Namjoon says, already grabbing his phone and turning on his heel. “Let’s get this guy.”

“Hey, Taehyung.”

You stand by Taehyung’s bedside, staring at your teammate’s broken and listless form. The steady beeping of a monitor sounds in time with the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the smell of chemicals makes your nose burn. Taehyung’s cheeks are hollow, sunken, and his skin is ashen. You grab your teammate’s frail hand, fighting the rising sadness within you.

“I stopped by to tell you we’re going to capture the person who did this to you.”

Your voice cracks, and you quickly swipe at the moisture forming at your eyes. The sight of Taehyung’s listless body makes your heart break, and anger and pain rush through you. “Jimin and Jin are waiting in the car, but I just had to see you first. I’m so sorry that this happened to you. It should have been me, not you.”

You close your eyes and fight to breathe, your inhale shaky and ragged. You force your feelings down, wrestling them away. You’re so focused on evening your breaths that you miss a slight rustling, miss the feeling of the hand against yours pull away.

“Y/N?”

You gasp as a familiar voice calls your name, your eyes snapping open. Taehyung moves, head lilting from side to side. His eyes flutter, and he groans.

“Taehyung, oh my god.” You quickly move closer. “How are you — ”

“I was on my way to tell you it’s someone on our team.”

Taehyung’s confession is like a splash of cold water, dousing you. You blink your eyes rapidly, trying to process his statement.

“What are you talking about?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to respond and is cut off by an intense bout of coughing. He doubles over, the beeping of his heart monitor increasing in frequency. Your hands flutter as you panic at the sight, unsure what to do.

“I’m going to go get a nurse — ”

“Stay.” Taehyung’s hand shoots out unnaturally fast, capturing your wrist and halting your movements towards the door. He turns his head as he lets out another cough, his grip not loosening for a moment. “I have…to tell you…about what I found.”

As Taehyung speaks, his voice loses its power. His grip on your wrist weakens, and he leans back against his bed, groaning. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out another cough.

“Taehyung?”

You receive no response, and you shake Taehyung’s hand desperately.

“Taehyung, please, I can’t do this without you,” your voice cracks as the realization that Taehyung has left you once again hits you. You close your eyes as a single tear escapes. You count to ten slowly before opening your eyes, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Taehyung’s forehead.

“We’ll catch the person who did this, mark my words,” you vow, turning on your heel and storming towards the vehicle where Jimin and Jin are waiting for you.

Whatever happens next, you’re ready. And you’re determined to make someone pay.

send me an or dm if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist!

tagging: @kassrole​, @hoebii​, @biaswreckme​, @taegularities​, @moccahobi​, @scarlet2007​, @deepdarkdelights​, @birbdae​, @mieohmy​, @samros95​, @ggukkieland​, @glossiestrawberry​

[plaidbooks]

Hard Hits and Fatherly Advice - “The Big Leagues” baseball AU (part 1)

(Moodboard by the ever lovely @witches-unruly-heart )

A/N: Oh boy is this a long one. It’s mostly dialogue, so hopefully it reads quickly.  Anyways, this picks up basically right after the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy, and as always, feel free to send any questions about baseball terms!

(After feedback of liking shorter chapters, I split this one in two. Part 2 is out tomorrow)

Tags: light angst with a happy ending (in the next part), nightmares (in the next part), head injuries, near death experiences

Words: 2672

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy  @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867  @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass    @redlipstickandblacktea  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31  @reading--mermaid @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas​

Though Sonny was upset about not winning a ring in the World Series—as was the rest of the Mets clubhouse—the misery was short lived. You both only waited until February before you were married, and he got a ring much more valuable. It was a decently sized ceremony, in only because you both had big families. And true to your words, you were still on birth control. You both agreed that during the All-Star Break, that’s when you’d try for kids. But until then, you were enjoying each other as husband and wife.

The few months before Sonny would have to report to Florida were the happiest of either of your lives. You still wrote articles, and Sonny still did his workouts and training. Outside of that, though, you spent your time together. It’s like you couldn’t get enough of each other, couldn’t learn enough about each other, even though you’ve been together for five years now.

You went on trips—both in the city and out—rearranged the loft, laughed together, cried together, did everything together. It was like you were both trying to shove a year’s worth of quality time together within the two months he was home.

But soon enough, Sonny packed his bags, gave you a passionate kiss, then got on a plane to report to Spring Training. You talked to him every night, asked how his day was. He was incredibly excited for this season, working harder than ever. You understood why; this was the last season in Shea Stadium, before the Mets moved to Citi Field, and ol’ Shea would be demolished.

 ***********************

“And you’re sure they want to interview me?” you asked your boss. Your phone was shaking in your grip, your nerves going everywhere.

“They do! This is a big step for you; you won’t be working just the Mets anymore. If you get this hosting job with ESPN, you’re going to rocket to the top!” she replied.

You swallowed; this was a huge opportunity. But the Mets were your team, your home. Though, you could always do this interview now, make a final decision later. If you were picked up by ESPN, would you still be around home, though? Would you have to move, live away from Sonny? And you wouldn’t be working strictly within the baseball season anymore; they could have you do any sport they wanted. Were you really ready for this?

“So? Are you in?” your boss asked, and you realized you’ve been silent for minutes now.

You cleared your throat. “Y—yeah! When and where’s the interview?”

“It’ll be during Opening Day, in the SNY booth. You’ll be off for the night for it, of course.”

During the game? But Sonny was set to start, and you wanted to watch your new husband out on the mound. “Okay…yeah, okay. I can do that,” you replied, albeit a little less enthusiastically.

“Great! I’ll let them know to expect you!” She went quiet for a moment, before saying, “listen, I know this is scary, that it’s a lot of change. But this will be good for you. Trust me.”

 ***********************

You were fidgeting in your chair, dressed in your most professional outfit. The interview with the ESPN exec was…odd, to say the least. It wasn’t like a normal interview; no, he wanted to see you in action. So, after introducing yourselves, he turned his chair to look out at the field, inviting you to do the same. He asked you questions—everything from technical questions about a player to more general questions about the sport.

The game started, and Sonny Carisi took the mound. The ESPN exec smiled, motioning to him.

“I heard you two got married in the off season,” he commented.

You unconsciously ran your thumb over your ring. “We did, yeah.”

“So, I assume you know everything about his form and pitching style?”

Your eyes traveled to Sonny; the SNY booth was on the second level, so he looked very small down on the field. You watched him start his windup, pitch, get a called strike, and you smiled. “I do. But I knew his form before we were married. I remember first hearing his name when he was tearing up Triple A.”

“Yes, I’ve read your articles from that time. You were very prolific, and I think you’ve only gotten better with experience.”

You were flattered with the praise, giving him a smile and a thanks.

 *******************

You weren’t sure how long this interview was supposed to go. It was the top of the fourth, and you never really loosened up around the man. But the questions seemed easy enough, and you were hoping you were doing well, whether you took the job or not.

As Sonny took the mound again, you leaned slightly forward to watch. The first pitch he threw, however, was crushed. The ball flew off the bat, and the whole world stuttered to a stop as it went right up the middle. In the blink of an eye, Sonny went from the end of his windup to flat on his back, the batter crouched on the ground with his head in his hands, and a group of trainers and coaches rushing to Sonny’s body.

***

Sonny was focused; it was the start of the fourth, and he was having a great game. Duca gave him a slider, but Sonny shook it off. Duca tried curve, shook off again. Fastball, right across the numbers? Sonny nodded before setting. He gripped the ball, as he had so many times before, and he threw. He knew as soon as he let go that he missed his target, that it was lower than he wanted it. He just hoped Pujols wouldn’t hit it out.

Sonny heard the crack of the bat hitting the ball. His glove moved of its own accord, going to block his face—from what, he did not know. There was pain, then nothing.

***

The ball hitting Sonny in the head replayed over and over again in your mind as you stared at his lifeless body. Move, your mind yelled to your legs. MOVE!

You felt your mouth move as you turned—muttering out a soft “excuse me”—before you were bolting out the door of the booth, racing to the locker room, the field, you weren’t sure, nor did you care. You needed to get to Sonny; that’s all you knew. You thundered down the stairs to the ground level. You could now hear the crowd cheering, and you felt the briefest touch of relief; Sonny was up, getting off the field. He had to be. Right?

You pushed past anyone and everyone who was in front of you, desperate to get to him. You were panting, your legs burning by the time you made it to the locker room door, but you didn’t feel it. The security guard asked for your id, and you ripped it off your shirt, throwing it at them as you pushed into the locker room.

You heard the crunch of the cleats on the floor before Sonny was on the stairs, four trainers guiding him. He had a dazed look in his eyes, his legs wobbly as they helped him to a bench. He had a huge bump on the right side of his head, his skin already discolored with a nasty bruise.

“Sonny, babe, are you okay?” you asked with bated breath, trying to catch his eye between the trainers hovering over him.

His glassy eyes glanced around until he found you. “D—dizzy,” he mumbled. Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed forward. The trainers caught him, laying him gently onto the bench while one went to call for the paramedics.

 **********************

While Sonny was in the recovery room, you tracked down his doctor, determined to make sure your husband was going to be okay. He had regained consciousness in the ambulance, but barely. His eyes couldn’t focus on anything, flitting around the cabin. You tried talking to him, reassuring him, but his words were slurred, and he eventually passed out again.

“Mr. Carisi suffered a massive concussion and hemorrhaging; he’s lucky to be alive,” the doctor said after you found him. “A few inches to the left, and he would’ve died instantly.”

You tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. “But he’s going to be okay, right?”

“Oh yes; he was very lucky. He should recover fully, as long as nothing unexpected happens,” he replied. “Head injuries can be tricky.”

You nodded. “Does that mean he can play baseball again?” You knew that Sonny would want to know, that he’d want to make sure he could still play.

The doctor gave you a hard look, judging why you were prioritizing a game over your husband’s health. “Will he play again? Yes, I believe so. But not any time soon.”

“How long?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. Maybe you were becoming more like Sonny than you thought.

He seemed to think about it for a moment. “Maybe 6-8 months, if he follows the physical therapy correctly.”

Your stomach dropped. “O—okay…. Do me a favor and let me tell him, please?”

“Of course. But I suggest not telling him anything too shocking when he first wakes up; he’s going to be disorientated.”

 *****************

After speaking with the doctor, you retreated to Sonny’s room. He was still out, a bandage wrapped around his head, holding an ice pack to the spot he was hit. You sat next to him, taking his warm, limp hand in yours, threading your fingers through his. As time went by, you flipped on the TV. But the first thing you saw was a replay of Sonny getting hit, and you quickly turned it off, feeling sick to your stomach. It had looked…so bad. And it was; he was incredibly lucky to not be paralyzed, brain dead, or worse.

You wanted him to sleep as long as it took for his body to heal. But you also wanted him to wake up so that you could make sure he was okay. Though, you were dreading the inevitable talk about baseball, and you didn’t want to see the hurt in his eyes when you told him how long he was out for.

Eventually, Sonny slowly stirred. His eyelids fluttered, his breathing picking up. You had made sure to dim the lights so that his eyes wouldn’t get strained. He flexed his hand in your hold before giving you a light squeeze, which you returned. Once he finally opened his eyes, they focused onto you, his gaze still cloudy from medication.

“H—hey doll,” he breathed, voice raspy.

You quickly poured him a glass of water, holding it to his lips. “Hey, Peanut Butter Cup.”

He smiled at you, the action causing him to dribble water all over his chest. You put the glass down, reaching for napkins. “Sor—sorry,” he muttered as you patted him dry.

“Don’t be; you’re still on heavy medication—”

“I meant for getting injured. Making you worry.”

You gave him a soft smile, tossing the wet napkins on the table. You offered him more water, but he shook his head. “It’s okay, Sonny. I’m just…I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah…. What—what happened? Last thing I remember is…” he closed his eyes in pain as he thought.

“Don’t hurt yourself, love—”

“I was pitching,” he muttered, opening his eyes to look at you. “We were playing St. Louis on Opening Day…. I threw a fastball to Pujols; I knew I could make him chase up high—”

“He hit a comebacker, Sonny. Caught you right in the head,” you said softly.

Gently, he brought his free hand up to the side of his head, gingerly feeling the bandages. “I—I only remember throwing the pitch, then opening my eyes to the trainers and coaches leaning over me. Then nothing until right now.”

You nodded. “They helped you off the field. I made it to the locker room before you did. You passed out shortly afterwards.”

“But I’m okay?” he asked with big eyes, filled with trepidation and worry.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile. “You got hit pretty good. But you’ll be okay; I know you will be.” Like hell were you going to tell him about how close his brush with death really was. The thought made you slightly queasy.

“And I can get back out there, right? Pitch again?” His voice was filled with hope…and fear. When you didn’t answer right away, the fear took over. “I’ll be able to pitch again, right doll?”

You gripped his hand. “You will, yes. But Sonny, my love…your season is over.”

You didn’t think he could look more devastated than if you told him his whole family had died. Tears filled his eyes, and he looked away, pulling his hand from you and trying to wipe away the tears before they fell.

“You’re going to take this time to heal, babe. Then you’ll come back next season and kick some ass—”

“This is the last sea—season in Shea…. I’m never going to pitch in my home again…” he muttered, hiccupping.

Your heart broke for him, and you wanted nothing more than to somehow fix this. But there was nothing you—or anyone—could do. Head injuries could always take a turn for the worst; there was no fast tracking this recovery.

“This was already going to be your last season there. So, we start taking care of you, start working towards your healing. That way, you can pitch again for your team, your second family,” you said gently.

You found a clean, dry napkin, and handed it to him. He wiped his eyes, then turned to look at you, opening his mouth to say something. But then his eyes flicked over your shoulder, and you turned to find the doctor there.

“Is it true, Doc? Am I done for the season?” Sonny asked, voice desperate. It’s not that he didn’t believe you; he just didn’t want to believe the news.

He nodded. “Yes; you’ll be off for the next 6-8 months at minimum. You’re very lucky to be alive, Mr. Carisi.”

“I am? Was it that bad?” he asked, looking between you and the doctor.

The doctor also glanced at you, silently wondering why you told him the fact his season was over, but nothing else. “Why, yes, it was. You had a massive concussion and severe hemorrhaging. You avoided death by a few inches.”

You looked into your lap in resignation, eyes burning from unshed tears. Sonny saw the motion and turned to look at you.

“Did you know this?” he asked, voice hushed. You nodded, unable to look at him, and he sat there, dumbfounded, his mouth dropping slightly open.

The doctor did his checks, then left you both once again, sitting in silence.

“I—I can fight this, make it back before the postseason—”

“Sonny, no you can’t. Please. You need to think about yourself right now, your health. Not your team. Think about your own life—”

“But baseball is my life!” he yelled, exasperated. He looked to you, eyes pleading, and you gave him the same look back.

“Please, Sonny. Think about when we have kids. You want to be healthy for them, don’t you?” you asked.

He flinched as he thought about it, eyes scanning his bed. “Y—yeah…I do.”

“Then please take care of yourself. Pushing yourself can only hurt you in the long run.” You took his hand once more, bending down until he was looking at you. “Please, take care of yourself. For me? For our future family?”

You could see the fight drain out of him; it was one of the hardest things you’ve watched…and you hated that you caused it. But he nodded slightly. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll take it easy, heal from this 100% before I come back. For you. For our future children.”

[softlyjiminie]

black swan | one

⇢ pairing(s): professional dancer!park jimin x figure skater!reader.

⇢ word count: 4.8K.

⇢ rating: 16+, mature.

⇢ genre: angst, eventual smut, fluff, e2l, fake dating!au, corrupted idol!au, dancer!au, figure skater!au.

⇢ summary: a life of skating was all you’d ever known, your heart craving the feeling of ice beneath your feet and the light brush of cool air against your skin under thousands of sparkling lights... what a shame, if only you’d known that one night, one accident could rip you from the life you’d grown to love, leaving your career in the unsteady hands of the prince of ballet, park jimin.

⇢ warning(s): please read for this chapter! angst, just a lot of vmon fluff, sports injury and mentions of blood!

⇢ author’s note(s): eeeep here it is everyone!! the first chapter of my new series!! ive worked super hard on this so im nervous and excited to share :( i hope you guys love it! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

⇢ series masterlist | next

alive.

if there was one word that you would use to describe this feeling, it would be alive. from the second the toepick of your skate touched the ice, your body would always come to light, energy surging through your veins as you drifted across the smooth surface of the rink. you belonged here, you were born here. this was was where you felt at home.

although the space was littered with other skaters, you believe yourself to be alone— the music of your heavily practiced routine filling your mind while you ready your position...head down, arm outstretched and fingertips pointed. rolling your shoulders, you clutch your hand to your chest as the chords of your original soundtrack blast through your thoughts, with a half turn you bend at the back, catching your skate while you twist your body into a layback spin— holding your skate to your head. “catch foot,” you whisper, following the notes of the song— butterfly. it was a short contemporary piece composed by your trainer which you had insisted on using for this competition. as the music flows, you release your grip on your skate and allow it to hit the ice, holding your arms out in a poised manner.

gliding across the ice, you dive into your next movement— the cantilever— bending at the knee and leaning backwards, skates out-turned. you know that move after would require the support from your partner, so you skip it in favour of saving it for the eyes of the judges. hydroblades were always a signature between he and yourself. the song hits a climax in your head, piano notes wafting through lost memories, tangled with practices of routines and you tumble effortlessly into the remaining steps like a flowing waterfall that never stops— the triple axel is the jump that comes after, a difficult manoeuvre through the air...but well known in the skating community as only a few have landed it in contest. skating forward, you put your power into the jump, leaping forward with only two and half rotations, saving the third for the competition and breathing a sigh of relief when you land backwards— just as planned. you move with the grace of a pure white swan, silently slipping into every move, spin and jump as you focus on only the sounds of your blade against the ice.

completing another full turn, you head straight into a sit spin— curling in on yourself as your body lowers to the cool surface of the ice. during a spin, you fyour blades dig into the ice as you come to a halt, exposing yourself to the world once again. breathing laboured from exertion, you outstretch your arms once more and imagine the final chords of your musical piece, ending your routine.

your attention is captured by a round of applause to your left, making you whip your head in search for the sound. a sweet grin graced your lips as you recognise the two men clapping away, causing you to skate over and rest your palms on the boarders of the rink.

“taehyungie,” you sing, leaning over the barriers to ruffle at the thick mass of unruly black locks that curl just above his eyes. the boy only laughs as he grabs your wrist and pulls you in for an awkward hug. his body is warmer compared to the ice, bringing you a sense of homely comfort that you recognise as familiar. “i missed you at practice just now,”

taehyung himself rolls his eyes making it his turn to ruffle your hair. “oh please, you hardly need me! you make a two man routine look good on its own!” he rambles excitedly, body leering over the barrier as if the ice is calling him. taehyung’s dark eyes flitter up to meet yours, an amused chuckle emulating from his lips at your jokingly unimpressed expression. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you were a solo skater—“

you huff, letting the corners of your lips twitch up into a small smile. “you know that i couldn’t ever do this without you, tae— i need you on the ice with me.” you poke at his cheek affectionately, your body lighting up as you spot namjoon, both yours and taehyung’s coach behind the latter. your skating partner catches the change in your expression, turning around to greet namjoon with a warm hug and kiss to the cheek.

yourself, taehyung and namjoon had known each other for as long as you could remember. you’d met taehyung at your very first skating lesson, in a beginners class when his hair was wild and untamed, a little boy with missing teeth and big bright eyes. as a little girl, you’d thought he’d gotten lost on his way to an ice hockey practice. at the time, namjoon’s father ran the skating company you started under— leaving his son in charge of the beginners class.

the three of you had grown up together; taehyung was your first kiss— promptly realising he wasn’t into girls right after you’d stolen a smooch on the swing set in your backyard after a practice (“yeah...YN, i’m gay.”). and even in high school, the two of you stalking namjoon around hallways as you teased a blushing taehyung about is growing crush on the lankier male. you cradled you’re jubilant friend as he cried when namjoon left for college, his light dimming a bit but you remembered crying harder when the three of you were united four years and a plethora of competitions, medals and skates later.

“well if it isn’t my favourite pair of skaters,” namjoon greets, tucking his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket that proudly shows off the logo of your skating company. “practicing again, YN?”

you see the amusement dancing in your coach’s eyes, he wouldn’t have put it past you to see you on the ice so early in the morning. you’d never relented with your skating, having pushed yourself to win two olympic medals by the time you were nineteen. you were an image of perfection in the skating world, not a scandal or downfall in your entire career— most would find such an achievement quite daunting— losing friends was made easy because of it... but you knew that you had taehyung and namjoon and the love of your family and company, you knew that with that you could achieve anything. “i have to, if i want to be better than taehyung...” you tease and tug on said male’s sleeve. “help me get him on the ice?”

namjoon presses a kiss into the depths of taehyung’s deep ocean locks, sending him off with a whisper that makes him run off to grab his skates before the elder approaches you. “little ice princess, i think i have a gift for you...” namjoon sings sweetly, pulling his phone from his back pocket as you lean over the barrier excitedly.

“you think?”

“i know.”

the elder holds out his device for you to see, the screen lighting up as an unfamiliar caller ID flashes across it. you raise your eyes hesitantly while your coach nods, smile reaching his eyes as you answer the call. a group of beaming faces decorate the screen and your own eyes dance across each and every one of them, recognising them as the boys and girls of moonchild skating company.

“YN!” the skaters cheer, waving excitedly amongst a sea of claps and giggles. “good, luck!”

“thanks you guys,” you whisper sweetly, sparing an appreciative glance at namjoon, you blow kisses to all of your fellow skaters thankfully. you note some of them to be from different ranks in your company; from beginners to juniors and some from different areas of competition— although your heart jumps slightly at the sight of one in particular. “jungkookie...”

“noona!” the boy cheers, scrunching his nose excitedly at the mention of his name. your heart melts as he looks to you with sparkling doe eyes, the younger boy having a special place in your heart— he came to the company bright eyed and shy, there had been a lot of doubt about jungkook’s abilities on the ice because of that. but as soon as he stepped foot on the rink, everyone’s worries drifted away— each of his movements were silken and seamless easily making him one of the best solo skaters in the senior rank, although he was slightly younger than you. you remember catching him after practice one day— he had yet to decide if he wanted to sign up with namjoon and he’d only  stayed behind to watch you run through your routine with taehyung. the bumbling boy couldn’t help but blush when he’d been caught with yourself and your partner yearning for him to join. he did so in the end... because of you, because you had inspired him to pick up skating after you won your first gold medal. it just so happened that little jungkookie was a fast learner. “did you like the surprise? i thought it would help with your nerves— i know you get butterflies in your tummy before you perform! so do i! especially when i see you— uh! i mean!”

jungkook’s ears burn as bright as his cherry red hair, the shade only feeling as your melodious chuckle wafts through the phone’s speakers. “i loved it kookie, thank you.” you hum, batting your lashes at him, despite the presence of the other skaters on the call. you knew he had a soft spot for you, it was hard to miss his longing gazes and the tightening of his jaw when tae put his hand on your waist for lifts. it was sweet. “good luck to you in your regionals as well, you’ll do great... okay?” you’re quick to remind him, as you note taehyung returning from the locker room.

“t-thank you noona! we love you!”

the skaters give you one last cheer and round of applause as taehyung slips into view with a boxed grin and sweet wave. namjoon ends the call, ruffling his lover’s mop of hair before ushering the two of you onto the ice, ready to run through your routine one last time.

putting together the perfect routine, is like making the perfect breakfast. the eggs you begin with, a sweet yolk dancing on your tongue like the starting moves that give the judges a taste of what you’re capable of. next were the pancakes, drenched in syrup— like light movements through the air, packing a punch with the saucy moves between yourself and your partner to show off your finesse and finally, there was the—

“orange juice.” taehyung’s timbre voice cut through your thoughts like a knife as he place a glass of freshly squeezed juice in front of you whilst disrupting your  mentally mapped out routine. blinking rapidly under his stares, your gaze switched from the piles of food he’d set on your plate, to the amused but scolding glare he’d spared you. “drink it, it’ll keep your sugar and energy up for today.”

“thanks taetae...”

you nod gratefully, leaning forward and taking a gulp of the bitter yellow liquid as if it’ll wash away the nerves beginning to bubble in the pits of your stomach. nonetheless, the skater beams brightly at you before he scoffs down a mouthful of his towering breakfast— as he always did before such events. you, however, couldn’t bare to eat— not with the devious stares of the other female figure skaters who eyed your plates. you knew it was a tactic to throw you off guard, the canteen of the hotel was much like a high school back in the day, with cliques and squads all out to get each other. it was always like this before major skating competition but your mind is too busy being filled with anticipation of getting on the ice and showing off once more.

namjoon appears after taehyung has eaten more than half his plate— resulting in him stealing bits and pieces from your own. “don’t look so nervous, YN,” the elder chides from over his steaming cup of coffee, hand running through his dishevelled purple and blonde streaked locks. “you’ll do great, both of you will.” your coach spares a knowing glance to taehyung, who blushes through munching the rest of your pancakes and so; you can tell by the light bruises on the neck that he and taehyung had a rough encounter in the night before.  

joon was never allowed to mark taehyung above the waist, because the younger loved to wear costumes that glittered and showed off his open chest. you knew from experience that the marks would be below the waist where no one could see— like their own little good luck ritual. glee consumes your skating partner as namjoon nuzzles his nose into his dark hair, the distraction letting you slip under the surface of worry once more.

‘no, you’ve got this.’ you think, flickering your gaze anywhere but your plate in order to clam the race horse of thoughts in your mind. you finally settle on staring at the news report playing on the small digital TV hanging in the right hand corner of the cafeteria. park jimin, arrested for speeding. the report flashes across the screen, images of bright blonde hair and dark eyes hidden by thick black shades passing by with faint sounds of camera clicks.

you shake your head, grateful to never had experienced trouble like that. sure, you’d dealt with reporters and trash paparazzi but, joon and tae— they’d always gotten you through it. it was just nice to not be alone like him...

park jimin.

taehyung had a mind of brilliance.

you sit in the stylist chair, hair slicked back and curled away from your eyes— the momentum of free hair would have disrupted your skating or thrown you off balance, but god was kim taehyung a miracle worker. he always knew how he wanted you both to look for performances, the makeup artists bidding to his every need. you could even find him helping out with the beginners class performances— adding glitter to baby cheeks and braiding youthful hair.

today, your friend had decided the look you would go for; would be faded baby blue shadow dancing across your lids and blending softly with cloudy whites and silver sparkles. your liner was sharp, winged enough to cut the diamond edge of the gemstones that were dotted at the corner of your eye— taehyung was smart, co-ordinating your makeup look with the pretty silver dress namjoon had scouted out just for you.

the article of clothing itself, is backless with long sleeves that form tear drops at your pointer finger as they fade from silver to a cool grey, much like the skirt of your dress. smaller gemstones and pearls align at your waist and chest, that glistened under the cheap light when namjoon had first revealed the outfit to you. you had cried when you thumbed the flowing layered skirt, thanking your boys endlessly for the beautiful dress but taehyung had only giggled — knowing that it matched his silver to white shirt, tight fitting and glittering with layered sleeves (which he loved so much).

now, you laced up your skates— nerves peaking once more. the white leather sat comfortably against your heal, having broken in the skates amiss your training. you knew that the current pair were already on the ice, eliciting cheers from the crowd so you forced your jitters into lacing up and securing your skates. a double not would suffice.

“you’re both going to do amazing, remember whatever happens out there... i’m proud of you.” your coach reminds with one last dimpled smile before you’re due on the ice. taehyung pecks both of your cheeks and leads you away from your team of staff— who clap excitedly for you while your names are announced.

squeezing his hand, you slide smoothly onto the ice with taehying and close your eyes, breathing in the sharp scent of coolness and fresh air and taking in the squeals of your names. “you look great,” your partner comments easily, smirking as you circle each other on the rink. you open your eyes, noting the white-ish glow the ice gives to taehyung’s honey skin and grin. “we’ve got this.”

“we always do,” you nod back in affirmation, confidence flaring as the announcement finishes (you had always felt more at home on the ice, and tae knew once you were out there, your worries would melt away with the music). you push yourself into position with tae, your foreheads pressed against once another’s, so close that you can feel his warm breath fanning across your face. it’s all for the dramatics but you know that the crowd loves your chemistry. piano chords drift through the air, signalling the start of your routine, your hands roam across taehyung’s body like you’d practiced countless times. when the beat picks up, taehyung twists you in his arms, fingertips reaching just above your head while your own hands follow his to link them.

you begin to pick up momentum, skating with each other in arm as the first verse picks, with hands on your waist, taehyung picks you up gently, holding you off the ice for just a second as he skates into a half spin before placing you down. resuming your movements across the rink, you separate and tumble into your next move— they lay back spin. the pair of you synchronise your moves, holding your skates to your head as you twirl into the lyrics of the song.

‘is it true? is it true?’ the lyrics reverberate in your mind, body following taehyung’s lead into the next steps. his fingertips are  light on your arms to keep them poised, both of you extending your right legs as you glide across the ice. ‘you, you, you...’ your partner lifts you once more into his arms, pushing you into the air for you to fall gracefully into a double salchow— taking off with the back inside edge of your right skate and landing on the outside of the opposite skate. the crowd bursts into applause, making you grin subtly at your partner before interlocking your fingers once more for a partnered arabesque spirals.

your hand grips taehyung’s firmly, letting your bodies move naturally with the music as you hold your legs in outstretched positions. the chorus bursts through the arena as the air below your arms blows away any worries, you fall back into taehyung’s arms once more for a lift above his head— your legs stretched out into a galloping motion before he swiftly prompts you into a death spiral, holding onto your arm as he twirls your body lower towards the ice.

when the chorus ends, you’re back to skating side by side, wowing the crowd with your movements— like namjoon said you would. completing a paired sit spin, movements mirrored perfectly, a feeling of dread feels your stomach. the ice changes beneath your skates— rougher on this side of the rink than others which sends ripples of worry through your veins at what is to come next. a triple axel jump, they were difficult to land and yet a specialty of yourself and your partners. you knew in your heart that if you landed this jump, the competition was yours but the buzzing feeling in your mind knew that something was wrong. to others, the ice carried you gracefully across the rink, but you knew something was out of place. catching taehyung’s eye, it’s as if he feels it too, but you can’t miss he jump... not when it could cost you the chance of a win.

putting your trust into taehyung, the man you’ve known for years— you curl into his chest as his strong hands support you into propelling you into the triple axel jump but to your dismay, the ice catches beneath his toe pick, taehyung misses a fraction of a beat as he forces you into the air. fear spikes in your chest— you weren’t ready, not to land, not for the jump, not for the music to push through with a climax.

and certainly not for the crunch of your bones.

excited cheers die down to fearful gasps and screams of horror, while taehyung picks himself up from the fall. the world is too loud, the lights are too bright and paramedics rush past him as he shakes himself off. wait, paramedics. pupils blown wide the skater rushes to his feet, pushing past men in orange suits with medical kits strewn about— he hears the faint call of namjoon from over the barrier and the announcers up ahead but his focus is on you.

the loudness fades and a ringing sensation builds up behind your ears— the world is black and you can only catch momentary flashes of taehyung’s worried face above your own. you’re confused, you can’t hear him as he mumbles through his sudden onslaught of tears. you cringe as they drip onto your face, an urge to wipe away the wetness taking over you— but when your fingers are brought back to your eyes, you notice the colour of crimson decorating your finger tips.

a muffled cry leaves your small frame as pain shoots through your leg, you can’t find the source but suddenly reality comes rushing back. you can hear the rushed voices of paramedics as they shuffle you onto a gurney, you can feel the stickiness of blood from somewhere on your head trickle down your back— soiling the pretty dress namjoon worked so hard to find, the throbbing pain in your left leg becoming too much to bare as you cry out for anyone, anything.

it hurts, god it hurts.  

“stay with me, YN, keep th-those eyes open for me? okay baby?” you hear as your vision sways, but the voice is familiar— timbre and warm just like taehyung’s. his cool hands cup your face, brushing through your hair as he limps off the rink with your gurney. “p-please stay awake? baby please...” you know that he’s crying and you know that you’re crying too, but you’re too tired, to sleepy to comply with his wishes. the world is still dark, briefly brightening when you see namjoon from the corner of your eye. he’s gone again and the buzzing world is replaced with the scent of disinfectant and hand sanitizer. there’s arguing, yelling but you can’t see from behind closed eyes.

“she needs surgery!”

“what she needs, is us!”

when you come to, one last time you lock eyes with taehyung’s trusting brown ones, watering on the edge of tears. “i won’t leave you, i promise.”

and with that, you slip away again.

there were certain sounds you liked to hear. like the sound of your skate cutting into thick ice when you landed a jump, taehyung’s sweet singing after a long day of practice or the old romcoms you had playing in your hotel room after a day of competing.

the incessant beeping filling your senses was not a sound you liked.

“it’s my fault, joon. you should have seen her face... it’s like she knew and she trusted me to—“ taehyung cuts through the beeping with a voice filled with worry, his jubilant demeanour having been lost somewhere. your head begins to pound as you remember his skittish sobs, but the memories are blurred still.

namjoon’s voice enters next, interrupting the shaking voice of his boyfriend. “it’s not your fault, how could you have known she’d fall like that? you tripped taehyung, something wasn’t right.”

“but she felt it, we both did—“

“then i’ll take it up with the board, we’ll sue, we’ll— we’ll figure out what happened.” your coach reasoned with his lover, a silence sweeping over the room. you yearned for the comfort you felt eminate between them but when you lift your arm, you realise you’re unable to move— the wires and plugs and breathing machines keeping you strapped to the bed. panic rises in your chest, blocking your air as you struggle to breathe—  taehyung is the first to rush to your side, lifting your mask and cradling you into his chest as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

namjoon is on your other side, rubbing a large palm up and down your back and out instantly feel comforted by their presence. hot tears roll down your cheeks, burning in your oesophagus as you claw at the base of your throat.

“shhh, little princess it’s okay— we’ve got you.”

a cup of water is brought to your lips which you quickly gulp down, the cool liquid soothing the ache in your throat. blinking, you cling tightly to taehyung’s cable knit sweater— hesitant to speak due to your unused voice. “wh-what happened?” you manage, unsure if your whispers can be heard above the pounding of your heart. “where...where are we?”

“you were in an accident,” namjoon spoke lowly from above you, taehyung instantly squeezing you closer as memories of the incident flashed behind both of your eyes. a low whimper left your childhood friend’s lips at your wince— squeezing you again as if he could drain your pain away. your coach swears he feels his heart break at the two of you hurting, pressing the buzzer for the nurse as tae cradles you and sliding onto your hospital bed to wrap his larger arms around you both. “something went wrong with the ice and, you fell—“

your fingers curl tighter in your friend’s clothes, as you remember the pain shooting up your leg and burning in the back of your skull. taehyung avoids your eyes this time, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “they checked you for a concussion and your leg...” his baritone voice an octave, a cool quiet seeping into the room. “your leg is broken, but with one more surgery and some physical therapy— you’ll be back on the ice in no time!”

your heart plummets in your chest, you knew what injuries like that did to figure skaters. sure you were young, you had time to recover but even the slightest pause in doing so could cost you your entire life, your career. the pair of lovers that surround you share a grim look, knowing the thoughts that are rushing through your mind.

“we have the best doctors for you, YN, with a few months—“

you blink up at tae with fiery eyes filled with tears, resisting the urge to shove him away. “i don’t have a few months, tae! training for the olympics is what i should be doing!” you hiccup, starting to choke on tears you refuse to let shed. “i need to be out there on that ice, or i’m useless, i need to—“

you make movements to step out of bed, sucking in your lower lip as a dull ache rests in your bones. the pair are quick to pull you back into bed, but your hands scold them with slaps as you push them away. you have no right to be angry at them, but you know that they understand. taehyung seems to be calmer now, despite the hurt that tickles his puppy dog features at your resistance, he does his best to comfort you.

but a prominent scowl yearns for the curve of namjoon’s lips, your coach falling deep in thought.

“you’re suspended from skating.”

“wh-what?” you stammer, eyes burning with a fresh set of tears for the third or fourth time that night. this time, your partner stands, looking to his lover in confusion and standing with his hands resting on your shoulders comfortingly.

he speaks hesitantly. “now joon...”

“no, taehyung,” your coach sighs, remaining stern. it kills him to make this choice, but there’s no other way— at least not for now. “LN YN will be suspended from all physical skating activities until she has made a full recovery with a hired physical therapist...” the words pierce straight into your heart, tearing you apart from the inside. you want to scream and cry and kick and protest but you’re too numbed from pain and betrayal to speak or move. “legal action will be taken up with the board responsible for the competition but until then, you will not touch the ice. understand?”

you blink, numb.

“YN, i said, do you understand?” namjoon repeats, steeling his gaze. he hates this, he hates hurting both you and his love.

you nod once, looking away whilst tae rubs circles into your shoulders. his lover mentions something about a coffee before slipping out of the room... and that’s when you breakdown. you cry, heavy ugly tears with a running nose that you’re sure stains your best friends sweater as he rocks you back and forth into the night.

you cry until your spark is dull, you cry until your chest burns and until your eyes are dry. you cry because you’ve lost your purpose in life.

⇢ taglist ! ( comment, like or dm to be added! )

@periminkle​  @ggukkieland​   @aishots​ @ownthesunshine​ @codeinebelle​ @taeass​ @trviahope @singular-itae @preciouschimine @yoongismykink @idiakh @honeyspillings @kimsdior @chimshoe @cypherft-v @tangledsparkles

[partangel]

Hi! A while ago I read your post about that professor who said you should've shared your thoughts on her class, as they were more interesting than most. If you don't mind, I was meaning to ask you to share them with us. I always look forward to read personal posts of yours, especially if they're about something you're passionate about. Although I find that you can make the simplest things absorbing, it always pikes my curiosity when you write about psychology! Hope your exams go well :)

thank you lovely! i dont think it was anything that catchy per se, lately i find that people perceive me in a really weird, over-the-top way. im on this research theme and once the girl that volunteers with me turned around on the end of the session and went "you look so clever with your glasses and posture, you make anything sound smart" and it was so weird because i talked, in 8 sessions of 1 hour, for maybe 10 seconds each, to say yes and no. i wear glasses because i cant see anything thats more than 15 cm distanced from me. perceptions are crazy, i think i just look brooding because im always worried or anxious about something, but it does not really translate into that when it comes to physical cues. so please dont take that too seriously!

the professor wanted us to give feedback, individually, about our first interview (that we had to record for her class as an assignment) and about the class itself. when it was my turn i talked about the difficulty in ending the interview - most therapists have this difficulty for a long time in the first years of their career - because it is a moment where the individual has shared a good amount of information and often feels like the session is just starting. the way i ended mine felt like there was a really big (perhaps even drastic) disconnect between the moment of interview/non interview. it felt particularly wrong to me because id never see the person again, and it worried me that theyd find themselves used for the purpose of the assignment and not really listened to. it was just like that feeling, when you share something very true, very deep about yourself, and then when its over your come back to your reality and think "why would i ever say that?". if you feel that in therapy, i do believe that is a fault of the way the session was ended. so i told the professor about it because i did feel like that was the most important feedback i could give of my learning process, especially so i could signal that i was conscious of this mistake. it left me with a sour taste, you know. the person i interviewed was very bright and very emotional, she cried maybe four times during the 1 hour we were together. and the fact that i was just "doing it" for a subject made me feel awful about the entirety of the thing in the end. crying in front of a stranger is no joke, crying in front of a stranger thats recording you is even worse. i feel like it was my responsability to do better by her, and although it did go well, the way i finished it was miserable, to say the least. however, when i shared this with the teacher, the colleague that watched my interview actually interrupted me and told me that she didnt feel that at all, that she thought it was perfect and that the person was very comfortable. so maybe im the one that was too sensitive!

about the class (that was about communication skills in interviewing) i shared my appreciation for the way the teacher had talked about the therapeutic silence, because to hold onto someones pain in silence is the utmost respect you can show for someone - not silence that comes from unknowing or awkwardness, but deep, purposeful and meaninful silence. i found it a very strong concept to hold onto.

i think that, academically speaking, your ability to signal something different than the generality of the other students is always appreciated by the teachers. if you never know what to say or you always point out things others have pointed before, it shows that you haven't really thought about what you learnt with them. however i can assure you that with some teachers i learned absolutely nothing, and theres no shame in that. hope i answered your question, thank you again for the kind words!

[nonstoplover]

trust fund baby ~ Timothée Chalamet (song drabble) - version 2.0

my masterlist │ my song drabbles

song i used as inspiration: why don't we ~ trust fund baby

words: 1.7K

approximate reading time: about 10 mins

a/n: okay so when brainstorming about this song's lyrics i came up with an idea (a different one than this written below) but as i started writing it, another possible, quite similar situation came to my head and since i couldn't decide which one i liked better, i figured i let you guys decide and wrote both. anyway i'm not an expert in cars and repairing them, so excuse my lack of knowledge please. i hope you still like it though! please leave feedback, it means the absolute world to me. love youu

here's version 1.0, the original idea

"Damn it." Timothée cursed out loud, slamming his palms against the steering wheel.

He couldn't figure out what was wrong or if accidentally he did something that caused the problem, but here he was in the absolute middle of nowhere, all alone with a slightly smoking engine hood.

He had no clue only that something really bad was going on. He grabbed his phone and opened the browser to search for the closest garage.

"Really?" He muttered to the device in his hand in disbelief. The closest one was about an hour away. It would take forever for a breakdown truck to come here for him.

He contemplated waiting for a little while, see if it went back to normal, maybe he could drive to the garage himself if the situation got better. The two sides in his mind reasoned against each other non-stop as he tried to figure out what was the best solution.

In the deep thinking he was doing he didn't hear the sound of an approaching vehicle from behind him until the image of it in the rearview mirror caught his eyes and the engine's roar entering his ears couldn't be mistaken.

He watched the slightly worn-out jeep get to him frozen in his seat, the idea to somehow stop it and ask the driver to tow him to the garage forming in his head but he did nothing to carry it out, still surprised by the sudden appearance of another car on the road.

The jeep passed him with reduced speed before eventually pulling up short in front of his car. Timothée's eyes widened as the car door opened and someone jumped out of the vehicle. His fingers shakily searched for the handle so he could get out on the road as well.

When he straightened his back and his eyes fell back on the approaching person he was taken aback by the sight. A beautiful girl around his age wearing a well-worn pair of jean shorts and a baggy, retro t-shirt, a worried expression on her face.

"Is everything alright?" She spoke up, rambling on without a pause, not even waiting for a reply from the boy. "I saw you parking here and I was thinking maybe you're just taking a break from driving but I was like, it's better to check if something's wrong."

Gosh, stop rattling, (y/n) thought to herself. You're not making a very nice first impression right now.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Timothée answered subvonsciously, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly before realising what he had just said, then swiftly shook his head and corrected himself. "I mean, no, not everything's fine. There's a little smoke coming out of my engine hood and the closest service station is quite far and I don't really know what to do."

Hearing the boy answer with a similar amount of gabbling slightly calmed the girl down, he probably found the situation quite odd likewise.

"Can I look at it?" She pointed at the car.

"Look at...?" He frowned in confusion. Why would she want to look at it? "I mean, sure, if you wanna."

"Great!" She half-exclaimed, already making her way towards the car, opening the car hood, her torso disappearing in it fully in no time.

Timothée watched her shocked, he was sure that the process would've taken a minute or even more for him, still the girl did it like it was nothing extraordinary.

"Okay, I think I know what's the problem, and lucky for you I happen to have the needed equipment with me," she straightened back up, turning back towards the boy.

He watched her pass him on her way back to her car and after a little packing around she got out a toolbox from the trunk and made her way to the other car again, swinging the tools in her hand like it's no big deal that she kept such things in her car.

She casted a glance at the brown haired boy, a chuckle erupting from her throat when she saw the expression on his face.

"My dad owns a service in my hometown and he taught me how to repair the most common problems," she explained, placing the box down on the ground as she reached the car. "And he has always insisted on me carrying around a toolbox in my own car in case anything happens."

Timothée felt his jaw drop to the ground in surprise and was quite thankful that the girl had already turned back towards the engine with a tool he could have sworn he had never seen in her hand, this way not seeing his reaction.

In his mind flashbacks of high school and even college parties and talks played non-stop as he watched her work. All his life, at least the part where dating was already a subject, he always told everyone that if he had ever dated a girl, it'd be an independent, smart and skilled woman. Someone who could fix anything whether it was changing a lightbulb or repairing a car.

And as it seemed in that moment, the girl he had always been describing was standing right in front of him. All he knew was that he couldn't let her slip away now that he found her.

"Okay, I think it's done. Can I sit in and start it to see how it is?" Her voice awoke him from his thinking.

"Yeah, sure."

On the way to the car door (y/n) tried to clean her oil-stained hands as good as she could with more or less success, pressing her skin in the worn jean material on the front of her thighs before climbing in the car. The engine growled loudly a moment later, and they both waited curiously if smoke's going to appear again.

When nothing happened, the young girl swiftly got out of the car, leaving the engine going as she approached the boy again.

"Would it be alright if I took it for a tiny ride? I wanna see if the smoke comes back after using it again," she explained. "I'll leave my car key and wallet and all my stuff with you as warrant."

Pulling the mentioned things out of her jean pockets, (y/n) held it out towards him, waiting for a response. He silently nodded, a bit taken aback by the sudden suggestion but eventually taking the stuff from her, watching as she got in his car again, passing him and speeding off into the distance.

Maybe he was foolish to trust someone this easily, but she left all her belonging with him, why would she run away, stealing his car? Otherwise, she had a pretty nice car herself, compared to his older, simple car even the (already dried) mud-stained jeep seemed fancy.

It took all self-control he had in himself not to open her wallet and search for her ID so he could learn her name, but it felt wrong, finding it out without her knowledge. He could just ask her when she got back.

The figure of his car started growing again, signaling that she had turned around and started driving back, and indeed his car arrived back to the starting point a few minutes later. The girl carefully wheeled the car around so it faced its original direction again before stopping the engine and getting out.

"It's working absolutely alright by far. And even if it somehow starts doing it again, you'll get close to the garage by then."

"Wow," he muttered, feeling speechless. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, I'm glad I could help," the girl leant down to pack her equipment laying on the ground.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, no, nothing. You don't have to pay me for this. I'm not even a professional," she quickly straightened her back, laughing at his suggestion as her hands waved it away.

"But I feel like I should pay you, you deserve something in exchange for stopping even though you didn't have to and offering to repair my car. And actually repairing it."

"No, really, please. I'm doing this because I like helping people, what is more people who happen to need my special knowledge about fixing car problems."

"Then at least let me buy you dinner or something in the nearest diner. If you have the time and would like to do so, of course."

Smooth, she thought giddily, watching him nervously creasing the hem of his shirt. The thought that such an attractive young man would be interested in a girl like her felt extra heartwarming.

"Okay, I can accept that," she giggled in the end.

"Amazing!" Timothée exclaimed, heart bursting with happiness that his sudden and absolutely not thought over plan worked out well.

"Then, are we gonna drive separately and stop at the first diner that comes in sight?" (y/n) visualised the scene appearing in her head.

"Yeah, probably," he chuckled. "Though what do you think about exchanging phone numbers and staying in a call while we drive there?"

"Great idea!" (y/n) grinned at him, amusement in her eyes. The boy truly had some pretty good thoughts in his head.

They both pulled out their mentioned smart devices from their pockets and switched them, typing in their respective numbers before saying temporary goodbyes and climbing inside their own cars. Just in time with (y/n)'s engine starting roaring, her phone in her hand started ringing.

She glanced at the screen for a short moment before erupting in loud laughter as her eyes took in the nickname he set for himself.

"Heya, Timmy T," she answered suggestively, still giggling, making the boy let out a chuckle as well.

"Hi, (y/n)," he answered a second later. "Nice to meet you."

"You too."

(y/n) tapped on her screen to put the call on speaker before putting the device down and slowly starting make the car roll forward. Glancing in the rearview mirror she made sure the boy was following her before picking up a faster speed.

For the next two hours they went from the first small talk to deeper, more serious subjects, getting to know the other more. Minutes spent with laughing loudly or silently listening to the other's stories went by.

In the first half an hour Timothée sped up out of nowhere and caught up to (y/n)'s car in the opposing traffic's lane so they could cast momentarily glances at each other until another car appeared on the road and the boy had to slow back down to swerve back in the normal lane behind her car.

The strange but nice attraction they both felt towards each other only grew stronger with every passing minute and by the time they arrived to the first diner in their way, they were already something close to best friends, or maybe even more.

.::the end::.

my masterlist

[joon-ipersgirl]

O1 - "the intoxicating introduction”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitous team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district’s hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember, nothing is ever as it seems...

word count: 2.4k

warnings: cursing, harassment from man in club (not a member), mild mentions of alcohol drinking

a/n: my first fic in years! it feels great to be writing again and i hope you guys enjoy the story. this part is a little slow, but the next part picks up fast. as mentioned, the fic is currently in progress and i will update as soon as i can and am able to. as always, feedback is appreciated and welcomed. thank you to @alversia for being my editor-in-chief and to you all for reading. enjoy!

full masterlist // series masterlist // next

You’re looking forward to a nice night out. It had been a long, rough week at the office and all you wanted to do was sit at a bar and sip on an Old Fashioned, your favorite drink. James had forgotten to submit his report on time which meant that your files were out of order, but of course, you were the one to be reprimanded. You had never seen a set of people more incompetent. It still surprises you that the company had managed to stay afloat this long when all of its workers seem determined to see it fail.

Dressed in a short, black dress and matching black heels, your oversized leather jacket slung over your shoulders, you know you look good. The change of clothes giving you an additional boost of confidence; you’d wanted to be as far away from office worker you as possible. The breeze is cool as you step out of the taxi and stand in front of Spiral, a club you had heard about at work. The reviews were generally positive and you hope that your coworkers’ judgment of fine establishments is much better than their ability to actually submit their files on time.

Shrugging off the jacket in the warmth of the club as you head down the stairs to the bar, you're careful not to trip. Spiral is crowded. Bodies cling together like wet clothes on a body and your lip turns up in disgust. The thumping music encourages them to bump and grind, making it hard for you to pass through. You hate being close to people and you hate clubs almost as much as you hate people, but that Old Fashioned is calling your name. You dig your elbows into the sides of strangers with a new sense of purpose until you finally break free on the other side of the dance floor - your safe haven: a bar stool.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks you as you plop onto the seat, slightly exasperated. You lay your jacket and purse across your lap as you try to get some air to flow into your lungs. Damn the rest of these people out on a Friday night.

“An Old Fashioned, please,” you sigh out. The hair at the base of your skull is sticking to your neck and you pull it into a makeshift knot in an attempt to cool down. 

“ID?” Rolling your eyes, you rummage through your purse for the piece of plastic.

“Just a routine check. You can never be too careful,” he says with an apologetic smile. He returns it to you and you give him a tight-lipped smile as a thank you.

He sets your drink down in front of you on a square napkin and leaves to tend to other patrons. Watching him move around the small space with ease, you wonder how he does it so easily when his broad shoulders take up so much room. Like yours, his jet-black hair is pressed against his forehead as the heat from the club steadily rises. You could see why he was a bartender, his face better looking than most guys you would see walking down the street. Hell, even better than some of the models with their three-page catalog spread. One could even call him handsome. You’re sure his high cheekbones help with his tips. You sip your drink slowly, welcoming the smooth burn as you swallow. They might call it an old man’s drink, and shit, maybe that’s who you are now, but it sure did its job well. Just like you.

“Excuse me?” You glance over your shoulder. “Are you here alone?”

He was a tall man with average features and a nice smile. Definitely not as good looking as the bartender, but not bad on the eyes either. He looked like a regular company worker that sat at his desk hunched over his keyboard, eyes glued to the screen as he crunched numbers or filled out progress reports. You’re only speculating because of the slight curve in his spine as he leans over to be heard over the music in addition to the almost permanent crease of his shirt just above his belt.

“Depends on who’s asking,” you say. You take another sip of the brown liquor, swirling it slowly.

“Jay. Jay Smith.” He sticks his hand out for you to take. You look down at it and back up at him.

“Sounds like a fake name to me,” you tell him. You don’t take his hand.

“I get that often,” he says with a chuckle.

“I’m sure you do,” You murmur, turning away from him. You could tell that he hadn’t moved.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Already have one,” you say, annoyed.

“Well, after that one?” he asks.

“No, I’m not interested,” you tell him.

“Well, can you at least tell me your name?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Though he’s growing visibly agitated and you know you should care, you don’t. You’re just as annoyed as he was, if not more so. He was just another sleazy corporate leech who thought he could intimidate you and you weren’t having it. Apparently, neither was he as he grabs your upper arm sharply.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he growls in your ear.

“You’re hurting me. Let go,” you tell him sternly.

“Don’t tell me what to do, bitch.” He yanks you further out of the chair and you grimace from the pain.

“Do we have a problem over here?” You look to your left and there stands a short man with a very grim expression etched onto his face.

“Mind your fucking business,” the man grabbing you sneers and pulls you closer to him.

“You’re in my club. It is my fucking business.” The coldness in his voice sends a wave of nerves through your belly. You continue to try and pull your arm from the other man’s grasp to no avail. Tears are welling in your eyes as you were sure he was leaving fingerprint sized bruises along your arm.

“Jin!” the shorter man yells over the noise of the blaring music and jerks his head towards you. You realized he’s talking to the bartender. Within a few seconds, Jin has made his way around the bar and is snatching the man off of you. Cradling your throbbing arm, you let out a cry of relief. You watch as another man - you assume the security guard - comes barging through the crowd to assist Jin in throwing the man out. Were all the men who worked here attractive?

“Come on. I’ll get you some ice for your arm,” the short man says and holds out his hand. You grab it and your things and let him pull you through the semi parted crowd who watch the two of you pass with mild curiosity.

You both climb a set of wrought iron spiral stairs to the second floor. There are fewer people here and you assume it caters to those who were considered VIP. Booths lined the opposite side of the walkway with thick black curtains closing off those inside from the rest of the world. You glance over the railing and see Jin heading back to the bar while chatting to the man who had helped him, the two of them sharing a laugh. The rest of the partygoers had shaken off their mild concern over your incident and were back to dancing in the middle of the floor. Continuing further down the walkway, the two of you stop in front of a large leather-covered door. The mint-haired man in front of you pulls out a key, inserts it, and pulls you through.

As he closes the door behind you, you take in the small office space. Bookcases lined an exposed brick wall from floor to ceiling. A fully stocked bar is opposite that while a small table and two chairs sit in the middle of the room. Across the room is a large wooden desk and one of those fancy office chairs that seemed to be covered in the same leather as the door you had just come through. What really catches your attention though is the man sitting in that chair behind the desk.

His silver hair glistens almost as brightly as the silver rings covering his fingers. His expression is one of boredom, but his eyes are beautiful. Feet kicked up on the desk, he reclines back in ease as he scrolls through his phone. He didn’t seem to care that you were in the room and you felt like you had intruded on him when you remember that this was supposed to be the mint-haired man’s office.

“A snack? Suga, you shouldn’t have.”

“Get out, Min.” Your escort walks past you towards the fridge. Min feigns a hurt expression and presses his hand to his heart.

“Out? But Suga, we have a guest. Don’t you want to intro-”

“No. Get out.” Suga’s tone is final and you feel the conversation shut down as quickly as Suga had appeared by your side downstairs. Min rolls his eyes and gets up. The chair squeaks in protest of being vacated so abruptly.

“Fine. Always ruining my fun,” he huffs. As he crosses the room, your breath catches in your throat at just how stunning this man is up close. Clearly the alcohol was getting to you because there was no way, again, that all the men here are this beautiful.

“Have fun, darling,” he coos at you, his fingers brushing across your arm and his eyes mischievous.

“I’m not here for that!” I call after him, but it falls on deaf ears as he is already through the door. The sound of it closing cuts off his laughter. Heat rises in your cheeks and you bite your tongue from embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s always like that. Sit,” Suga commands.

You sit in the chair he had gestured to and he sits across from you, handing you the makeshift ice pack: a couple of ice cubes wrapped up in some flimsy paper towel. The cooling sensation is welcomed though and you slump back into the chair grateful. Suga watches you carefully and you shift slightly under his gaze remembering how much more exposed you are in your dress than your everyday outfit. You notice his lips are thinner than the other two men, but his eyes hold the same intensity as they continue to watch you.

“Suga? What kind of name is that?” You question, breaking the silence. Though his hair is the color of your favorite ice cream, his demeanor is anything but sweet.

“Nickname,” he responds shortly. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened tonight. Whatever you ordered is on the house and the next time you come back, that’ll be free too. We try not to let dickheads in, but I guess this one slipped through the cracks.” He mumbles the last part to himself.

“I would have ordered more drinks had I known they were going to be free.” He laughs. “I didn’t even get to finish that one,” You say with a frown.

“What were you drinking?” he asks.

“An Old Fashioned.” He raises his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah, yeah I know. It’s an old man’s drink or whatever. They’re good and I enjoy them,” you say with a shrug. He laughs again and gets up.

“I’ll make you another one before you go. How’s your arm?”

“There’ll be bruises, but I guess I’ll live.” You observe him pour the whiskey into a glass filled with ice before adding an orange peel. Taking it from him, you gulp down almost half of it to soothe the ache in your arm.

“Take your time.” You roll your eyes at his comment as the phone on his desk rings and he goes to answer it, cutting your conversation short.

As he continues his call, you toss the melting stack of paper towels into the trash while admiring the impressive view from the large windows. The city always looks beautiful at night and as a raging insomniac, it was a comforting sight to see even when the sun rolled up over the skyline. You sigh as you think about the journey you would have to take to get home. At least you didn’t have work tomorrow. Just as you’re tossing back the rest of your drink, Suga asks you if you’re ready to go. You nod and he escorts you back to the narrow walkway you had first crossed.

“Are Jin and Min brothers or something? Why are their names so similar?” Suga only laughs at you as he guides you down the slippery stairs. Though it is much later in the evening, Spiral is just as crowded as when you first came. You glance up at the DJ booth and wonder how long he had to stay for, feeling sorry for him. On your second glance, you spot Min dancing next to him and your sympathy grows further.

Suga stops at the exit and you turn to him.

“Remember, next time drinks are on us. Get home safe kid.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re the same age,” you say, squinting at him. “Thank you though. For what you did.” He waves his hand as if to dismiss your comment.

“Gotta keep the customers happy, right?” You laugh and nod. “Alright then.” He nods to himself and you watch his mint-colored head disappear into the crowd.

You laugh to yourself at his nonchalance and manage to tug on your leather jacket with some mild difficulty. As you ascend the stairs while searching for your phone to call a taxi, you bump into another man. He grabs your upper arms to stop you from falling backward and you let out an anguished cry.

“Shit! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” You can barely make out his features from the tears welling in your eyes.

“My arm, you fucking dickhead,” you groan as the dull throbbing returns tenfold. As he reaches for you again, you swat his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

With the most coordination you can manage after a drink and a half of whiskey, you push past him and head up the stairs. Were you that small that people couldn’t see you coming? Clutching your bruised arm with one hand and your phone in the other, you manage to hail a taxi on the street corner. It would be a miracle if you made it home in one piece. So much for a nice night out.

full masterlist // series masterlist // next

© joon-ipersgirl, 2020.

[iristhepladsen]

Another Day, Another Bounty Pt. 4

A/N Here with another chapter-not my favorite one that I’ve written (Not sure if it’s because I’ve been staring at this chapter for too long) But more is coming soon! Warning: Abuse, physical harm, violence 

Taglist: @angelcvsmic​

Read Last Chapter Here​, Next Chapter Here

Lowering slowly to the landing dock, noticeable darkness passed over Xola's features as she stoically gripped the arm of the chair. Flipping off the switches, the Mandalorian rose. "Let's go." He said, ignoring the heaviness in the back of his throat. Opening the hangar door, he watched Xola step down, listening to their surroundings, breathing in the dusty air. As her foot caught on the odd ridge between the ship and ground, the Mandalorian caught her arms, steadying her. "Careful." The irony did not escape either of their minds. If she tripped and fell, what would it matter? Her life would be over, come daybreak. Moving away from him, she smoothed out her cloak and begin to walk briskly. Walking through the port, he maneuvered their way through the coming and going jets and planes, Entering into the city, the Mandalorian felt quiet eyes on their backs, a certain glint in a bystander's eye...they knew. Pulling the cloak over her head, his arm went around her shoulder, guiding her forward.

Turning into an alleyway after alleyway, they stood at the back door of the client. Pushing the entry button, he flashed his ID chip at the droid. Apprehensively, Xola's pinky strayed back to the embroidered lily. Door hissing open, the marching of Stormtroopers rang in Xola's ears. Hand remaining on her shoulder, the Mandalorian guided her in, an element of gentleness to his touch. Instinctively leaning closer to the Mandalorian, Xola stiffened as the hand on her shoulder was replaced with a fist around her bicep. "Easy." The Mandalorian spoke tersely. "You take it easy!" He snapped back, jerking her arm for good measure. Rising from his desk, the client held the tracker in front of Xola, who was leaning apprehensively away. "Yes...yes, yes, yes." Gripping her chin, he smiled. Eyes narrowing, the Mandalorian observed the exchange worldlessly. The scientist rushing in, he swallowed nervously, fumbling as he pulled out a red light. Shining it in her eyes, Xola squinted confusedly, arching her neck away.

"Xola." The scientist whispered, reverence in his tone. Lips parting slightly, she struggled and squirmed from the grip on her chin. "Alright...hurry then." The scientist murmured, the stormtroopers marching Xola forward. Brushing past Xola, the Mandalorian stared at the case of Beskar. The last time he'd lain eyes on such an amount was...years ago, it felt.   "You really are the best of your kind. Then...your reward. You've earned it." Eyes drifting to Xola, he watched her being marched away, out of his arm's reach. As if she could feel his gaze, she looked his direction, before she disappeared behind the door. "Such a small price, for...such a small package. But, to the winner, the prize goes." "You sent out more than one tracking fob." "It was most crucial that Xola arrived. Alive or...otherwise." Taking the case, he paused. "The girl. What are you going to do?"

Smiling humorlessly, he clicked his tongue as he slid him the case pointedly. "How most peculiar for one of your kind. May I remind you, that our contract has now ended. No questions asked. Is that not the code of your guild?" Resisting the urge to look at the door once more, he found himself escorted out by the Stormtroopers. The Armorer didn't ask questions, like usual, just wanting the vertebrae of an issue. Thanks to her interference, and fighting a natural beast, his armor had lost its integrity. "The enemy helped you? Why?" "I...she didn't...fully realize." He found himself saying. But she had. Xola had known from the start. Then why the bandage, staying beside him after the Jawa attack? Why did she save him? "Then, whistling birds." His armorer said after a pause. "That will do nicely." ***

Finding himself sitting across from Greef, he felt the eyes of every bounty hunter digging into his back. "How many had tracking fobs?" "All of them!" Greef boomed. "All of them, and yet, you were the one to bring her in!" "Her?" He echoed. "Word travels fast, Mando. Now, what can I do for my most valued partner? There are some fine medicinal baths to attend, which I'm sure you'd enjoy." "I'd like my next job." "You-Mando, come now! You've earned time off. Enjoy your earnings, you've certainly worked enough for at least a few days rest!" "I want...my next...job." The Mandalorian reiterated. "Right. You, bounty hunters, enjoy keeping busy. Well, take your pick, you've earned it. I must warn you, they are quite far." "The further, the better." Turning on a fob, he analyzed the information. "Nobleman jumping bail, all the way in the oceanic ridge. That is as far as you could be." "I'll take it." Snatching it, he pushed himself up. "Excellent, I expect a good capture!" Turning his back to Greef, he closed his eyes. Xola.

"What do you think they'll do with her." "Her?" "The girl." "I didn't ask." Tone growing in severity, Greef eyed him warningly. "It's against the guild code." When he made no response, Greef motioned to the bar. "Buy a keg here. Go on your mission. By the time I see you again, you will have forgotten all about it." And that was his job, to forget. Forget everyone and everything he came into contact with. Marching onto his ship, he sat down, hurriedly flipping the switches. He couldn't stand being on the planet a moment more. As he pushed the controller forward, the handle top fell off to the floor with a loud thud. He had forgotten to screw the knob on securely last night. Reprimanding himself, he reached down to grab it, his gloved knuckles brushing against a paper. Pausing, he picked that up gently and turned it over in his hands. A common oily paper that was transformed into a paper bird, each line made neatly, precisely, and gracefully. Her eyes. Something he could not place. Not quite fear, and not quite giving up. A look of innocence, yet a wisdom that exceeded her years. Yet...still something."Sadly, we will never know the story." The droids words regurgitated in his head.

 "No," he muttered. "I'm leaving."

Hand hovering over the initiator, he slammed it off.

"Damn it."

***

Rifle set up, he adjusted the listening fob, catching garbled words and feedback.

"I don't care what. You cannot manifest the energy. Harvest what you can. Once you get forty percent, that is all we need. Annihilate it straight afterward."

"But, no, we can still send her-"

"-There is not enough resource. I suggest you hurry, as I can no longer assure you safety. Afterward, burn the 'leftovers'."

Switching off the listening fob, he slid down the piping along the walls. He didn't have much time to listen to their schemes.

Brushing alongside the walls, the Mandalorian paused by the rubbish bin. Hand on the top of it, he peered inside, an all too familiar article of clothing laying amongst the metal scraps and bloody cloths. Picking it up, he turned it a few times. The yellow lilies were spattered in filth and a little blood. She was punched somewhere in the face, the cloak was pulled so hard it had ripped from her body. Feeling unappeasable anger that settled in his stomach, he slammed it back into the bin.

It didn't take him long to break inside the safehouse, and within minutes, he was shooting down the panel to the laboratory door. 

Watching a droid approach her with a large needle, he shot it down, then aiming the blaster at the scientist who was cowering behind a barrel. 

"Please, please don't hurt her! Xola never did anything wrong, please, she's done nothing, please leave her alone!"

Wearing a thin and terribly torn grey top, it was instantly obvious that she had struggled, dried blood and a nasty bruise over her right cheek, a grey metal strap securing her to the table. 

Face an ashen color, he noticed a tube of some sort in her arm. Pulling it out, he looked at the bag that was feeding her body the vile liquid. A sedative.

"What did you do?" He asked, raising the blaster higher. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, nothing! I saved her! If it wasn't for me, she'd be in the dumpster by now, please don't hurt her! She-she is so precious to me!"

Precious? Brow furrowing, he felt disgust sweep over him. 

As he muttered "please" over and over again, the Mandalorian pulled out his grey sack. He didn't have long. Scooping her inside it, he rushed out. 

It was time to make their escape. 

By three minutes, the distress signal would come, bringing all the hunters his way. As the beeping from the fobs echoed throughout the near-silent city, his hand drifted near his rifle, setting it to disintegrate. Make that one minute. As he reached the threshold of the landing bay, he watched Greef solemnly stand in the very center of his way, cronies flanking all sides. No clean escapes after all. "Let me pass," he warned. "You put the girl down, and I might let you." "She is coming with me." "No, she isn't Mando. Is that a real life for her, wandering around like a fugitive with a cold-blooded killer?" Intimidation through doubt. The Mandalorian knew this tactic well. Grip tightening slightly, he stood his ground. "She is coming with me." He repeated.

"If you truly care about her, you'll put her down. The New Republic will take her into custody, and she'll be fine." "How do I know I can trust you?" As if he ever could. "Because I am your only hope." Firing a shot, he tossed himself into the cart, pinning Xola to the ground. "Drive!" He snarled, aiming his blaster at the droid. When the droid shook back and forth, he loaded it. "Drive!" Driving forward, he fired shot after shot. When his luck ran out and the droid was destroyed, the Mandalorian ducked behind barrels. "Here's what's going to happen! I am walking onto the ship, with the girl, and you're going to let it happen!" He shouted. "No, here's what's happening. We will kill you, take the girl, and strip your body for parts!" When someone made a stabbing motion, he used the last of his fuel, shooting flames in their direction. When it ran out, he crawled further into the maze of crates. Blaster after blaster fired out, red lights bursting through the sky.

And so, they would not have made it out in the end. And, he could not save Xola. Lowering the grey cloth from her face, he lowered his head further, hand on the side of her neck. His hand curled around her head, as if that could shield her from the inevitable firing. Maybe if he had left left her, the scientist would have rescued her. 

At the deep bruising on her cheek and swollen eye, he closed his eyes briefly. No. 

No matter what the scientist had said, she was as good as dead there. As good as dead here. And now, they would die together. 

All he wanted was to protect her. But now, they would die, just as his own parents had. 

Eye-opening blearily, she dazedly groaned, the pain obvious in her features. "Mandalorian. You...came back?" "Yeah." He replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Eye closing again, the sedation regained its fierce grip. Holding her close, his hand remained on his blaster as the movement grew closer and louder. Hearing a loud roaring from the air, he glanced up to see...helmets. His brethren and sisters had come, redeeming him from his errors.  This was the way. Picking her up, he ran through the crossfire, trusting. They would not let him fall. Scrambling onto the ship, he heard a small creak. Watching Greef step into the limelight, he solemnly watched his old employer.

"I didn't want it to come to this, Mando. But you're leaving me with little choice." Without hesitation, he initiated the carbon freeze, a puff of dry ice coming loose. In the confusion, he shot Greef in the chest, watching his body tumble out. Hurriedly, he flipped the generators on, sending the ship in the air. And with that, they made their escape. Once they were out of immediate danger, he tentatively set it to autopilot. Climbing down the ladder once more, he opened the resting bay door. Setting Xola on the cot, he rummaged on the panel overhead for spare clothing. Finding a worn undershirt that he used for his armor, he tentatively sat her up, he head resting against his shoulder plate. Sliding the material over her head, he pulled her arms through the long sleeves, and laid her back down. He would need to provide more sufficient clothing later. Opening the carbon, he pulled an ice package from his extra carbon holder. Walking a few paces to her resting area, he placed it over her cheek. 

At least it would help with relief and swelling, though he was near certain her nasal brone was broken. Tucking the thick creme blanket around her, he closed the panel door, returning to the pilot's deck. Turning to the control panel, he resumed the pilot status. What did he just do? What would he continue to do? He had no idea. Finding a quiet planet, for starters. But after that, what? Her entire life was displaced in the span of three days. Hearing the faint sound of the panel door opening, he returned it to pilot mode, scaling down the ladder. Feeling along the wall, the Mandalorian watched her look around in dazed confusion.

"Hello...?" "It's me." Lips parting, she swallowed thickly as she reached him, shivering in the cold ship. He had forgotten how cold other people felt on his ship. "I...thought I hallucinated that you had come back." "You didn't." "Why? Why help me?" "This is the Way." As she pondered his words, he put his hand on her shoulder. "You've lost a lot of strength, you should rest more." Guiding her back to the cot, he watched her settle uncertainly on the creaky cot. "Here, wipe your face." Handing her a dampened cloth, he watched her dab her face, flinching at the sharp pain from her nose. "What is your name?" She asked. Silent, he kept his eyes on their course. His name...it was not something he had uttered to even himself in many years. "Call me what you'd like."

"I'm not good with nicknames..." Sinking back on the cot, Xola seemed lost in thought. "Perhaps...just Mandalorian." "Fine by me." Feeling around, Xola gasped slightly. "What's wrong?" "My cloak...my cloak, where is it?" She asked, her voice raising slightly. "It's gone." Exhaling sharply, her fingers absently drifted to where the flowers once were. "Yes...it is, isn't it?" "Did you make it?" He asked, curiosity getting the better out of them. "Every petal." A bitterness in her eyes, Xola's hand moved to her side. "...What happens next?" "Quiet. We'll find a quiet planet to stretch our legs out for a few months. Sound good?" "Yeah. I'd like that." At the thought of rest, sleeping, and safety, Xola could not help but feel the stirring of something she had rarely had before. Hope.

"Mandalorian," She called out as his boots were fading away. "Thank you." When he began to nod, he chastised himself inwardly, replacing that motion with: "Yeah. I'll wake you for food." Leaning back, he looked at the chart. Low population density, unheard of, small. A nice backwater planet. "Then, Sorgan." Safety.

[sayhitoforever]

Burn Season - Malcolm Bright x Reader - PT (7/?)

A little holiday gift for all you lovely people.  Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6-  Thanks for all the love and support for this series. You guys are wonderful, your feedback makes my heart feel so full. I am playing around with the idea of making this it’s own fic, with an OC protagonist instead of a reader insert. If I go through with that, you guys will be the first to know and I’ll post any links here, most likely for AO3. Thank you, as always, for reading. This will be the last update for 2019! GIF credit to diver5ion because Malcolm is serving LOOKS 👌 .

~

Even with the meticulously neat organization of the evidence, it had taken Malcolm well into the evening to get through the boxes. The pictures were spread across his island and the floor as he’d tried to set up the scene the way it had been when it was first photographed. He poured over each report and lab and all the testimony that had been gathered before starting in on Y/N’s notes, usually left on sticky notes stuck to the reports. Some of them were incomprehensible, clearly pulling facts and forming theories around evidence he’d yet to read through.

It was strange, he thought. Y/N had said it wasn’t personal, that she hadn’t cared about her father, but all the hard work in front of him said otherwise. It could be that he was misinterpreting it, that the dedication to all the evidence spread around him was just part of her job. It was stranger even that her father wasn’t among any of the victims contained in the boxes, not that he could tell at least. Why, he wondered, would she tell him what she had but leave out any information that corroborated her story?

Six crime scenes, six charred buildings, corpses into the double digits, the timeline spanning over eight years. It had grounds to qualify as a serial killer by the modus alone. Always an abandoned factory or warehouse, some condemned and dilapidated building. Planned, intentional, where no one but the intended victims could be hurt. It was an act of empathy, an act of restraint, and that ruled out any theory involving a sociopath.

Malcolm found that all of the victims in the boxes had some kind of mafia affiliation. It was a dawning sort of dread that fell over him as he realized that the manner in which they’d been tied up, every last one of them, reflected crimes they’d been alleged of committing. The two handcuffed to old piping were infamous sex traffickers, known for keeping women chained up in basements to be abused. Another with remnants of his shattered kneecaps found in the ash, both ankles broken, known for crippling his enemies before executing them with a bullet between the eyes.

We will make you sorry.

Retribution then, like paying it forward in the cruelest way possible. Forcing them to suffer that which they’d done to others before they died. It was the fire though; the fire didn't seem to fit. It was the odd piece of the puzzle. Why burn them? What was that a reflection of?

Malcolm was reaching for his phone to text Y/N when it chimed with a message from Gil. ID on the victims from the other night that they were able to pull from their dental records. More mafia thugs, he noted as he scrolled through the reports Gil had sent, before stopping at the list of their alleged crimes. And there at the bottom of all three was the answer to his developing theory. Alleged murder, charges that never struck, involving bodies out in the wilderness, tied to posts with rope and shot at like an execution by firing squad.

The next chime was a phone call and Malcolm brought the phone to his ear.

“Gil,” he said by greeting.

“You got anything for me, Bright?”

“I…” Malcolm hesitated, looking at the spread of evidence all over his loft. “I don’t know. There’s a lot here, Gil. Years of evidence.”

“Any of it you can bring in? We could try to help, offer a fresh pair of eyes?” Gil offered and Malcolm could hear the sound of a coffee pot being returned to its stand. He smiled tiredly; so they were all depending on caffeine to get through the day now.

“There’s too much here to bring.” Malcolm stared at photos of the fourth crime scene, recalling testimony of a nearby vagrant. Something about overhearing someone a short while before the old factory had gone up in flames:

We will make you sorry.

Malcolm sighed, knowing that a fresh pair of eyes might actually be of some help. “But, let me grab what is most important and I’ll head over. Is Y/N there? I had a couple questions for her.”

“I saw her about a half hour ago, so I would imagine she’s around here somewhere,” Gil replied.

“I’ll be there soon,” Malcolm promised and pocketed his phone again as Gil confirmed.

What precisely to bring with him out of the mountain of evidence before him was another beast entirely. Should he rebox it and bring it all with him? Should he even keep reflecting on old evidence when he had a new case with fresh evidence that might even have more reliable results to focus on? Photos at the very least would help, and he made quick work of returning them all to their properly labeled envelopes and slipping them under his arm after donning his coat.

The chill in the evening air was like a sigh of relief as it washed over him. He’d been cooped up for so long, so focused, that he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been feeling a little claustrophobic. When he entered the precinct for the second time that day, Gil was on a heated, closed-door phone call with someone in his office, Dani had left to chase down the owner of the warehouse, and JT was on his way back with food for them all. With a sigh, envelopes full of old crime scene photos still tucked under his arm, he made his way to Edrisa’s lab where he was greeted with the sound of her pealing laugh as he opened the door.

“Mr. Bright!” Edrisa greeted him, face lighting up as he entered her lab.

Y/N was sprawled in Edrisa’s chair, booted feet kicked up onto her desk. The look she gave him across the room was a little haggard, but sharp nonetheless. He’d never asked her what business had called her away so quickly earlier, but it was clear now that sleep hadn’t been involved. It was the most comfortable he’d seen her around another person, and he wondered what specifically it was about Edrisa that maybe put her at ease.

“You two aren’t drinking again, are you?” he asked, eyeing Edrisa closely.

“Oh, no, no, it’s too early for that,” Edrisa laughed, looking back at Y/N who nodded with emphasis. “We were swapping stories of the worst dead bodies we’ve seen.”

Malcolm shot Y/N a critical look. The grin he received in return was nothing short of sardonic. “You have a laundry list of dead body stories?”

“More than I’ll ever let on,” Y/N said with a casual shrug, grin nearly splitting her face in half as she heard Edrisa’s groan of defeat.

���I knew you were holding out on me,” Edrisa lamented, hanging her head. “I even told you about the bog body.” Malcolm couldn’t help but chuckle at the hang-dog look on her face.

“C’mon, E. I gotta save the good ones. Can’t spill all my good stories at the same time.” Her eyes glittered as she looked over Edrisa’s sagging frame with another laugh, before she pinned Malcolm in place again.

“Oh, where are my manners? Have you two met already?” Edrisa exclaimed, glancing between the two.

Malcolm blanched for a moment, having forgotten that Y/N had left the crime scene while Edrisa was caught in traffic the other night. And again after the Baby Stout incident, she’d yet to discover that they were already well-acquainted.

“We are familiar,” Malcolm replied, slowly and awkwardly.

Edrisa blinked up at him, the word ‘familiar’ seeming to strike a chord with her. “Has she told you any of her good stories?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Bright and I haven’t had the opportunity to share our best case stories,” Y/N piped in, moving her hands to settle them atop her stomach as she lounged even further down into the chair. “But this case is squaring up to be a pretty good one.”

“That’s true!” Edrisa said enthusiastically. “I might even submit this case to the review board if we close it. Carbonization of tissue is such a fascinating subject, very open to debate about how it…”

When both Y/N and Malcolm stared owlishly at her as she trailed off, clearly lost in her own thought, she gathered herself just a little. “I could use more coffee. Do either of you—”

“Yes, please,” Y/N and Malcolm said in stereo. Edrisa’s eyes flitted between the two of them like she was watching a ping-pong match before she pointed at Y/N and laughed like they’d shared a joke Malcolm hadn’t quite caught. She continued to chuckle as she exited the lab.

Y/N remained where she was, feet still propped up, hands folded on top of her stomach, eyes studying him where he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting around the room.

“Spit it out,” she said suddenly. “Unless the question is meant for Edrisa.”

He winced, visibly, beginning to hate just how transparent Y/N made him feel. He couldn’t be that obvious, right? He was a trained professional after all. “It’s a sensitive question,” Malcolm said instead, holding back more questions. Always questions. Questions he was sure might never get answered. Not when the person he needed to ask evaded them like a pro, not when the questions entered a territory too personal, too private, too dark.

“Ok, I’ll bite,” she said simply.

Malcolm hesitated, his own racing train of thought coming to a screeching halt. “It’s regarding your father,” he said, giving her the leeway to refuse his request.

She stared at him impassively, cocking her head to the side slightly. “I’m still listening.”

He swallowed reflexively, trying to push out one coherent question at a time. “Was there anything that stood out in his autopsy report, anything weird, anything violently particular?”

“Clever.” Was the only thing Y/N said for a moment, eyes glazing over a little in contemplation, her silence leaving Malcolm prickling with anticipation. “Can’t believe I never thought about this, but yeah. His mouth had been stapled shut. Surgical steel.”

Malcolm’s pulse thundered in his ears as her gaze focused on him once more. She'd said it so easily, effortlessly, like the act of recalling that her father’s body had been mutilated while he was still alive, that he’d been silenced, before being burned alive meant nothing to her. Maybe it really wasn’t personal for her. Maybe it was just one of those cases you got fixated on because it had gone unsolved for so long. Maybe Malcolm was just projecting something onto her. His own need to understand everything that effected him in some way. The way she was looking at him, calm, exhausted, with no real sadness in her gaze, spoke volumes.

He stared back, too flabbergasted to speak for a moment before swallowing dryly. “So, I have a theory…”

[what-the--curtains]

Braving the elements

(Bucky x OC and/or Bucky x reader)

Summary:

A mutant with elemental control flees her life of crime after an altercation with her boss. In hopes of bringing him down she seeks out her old friend Wanda and offers to help the Avengers. Whilst there a certain avengers catches her eye and she catches his. As a more sinister plot begins to reveal itself, you realize that your former employer is the least of your worries and that something wicked was being planned for you since the day you were born.

Warnings; Violence, Swearing, Theft

Author's note: First piece of non-academic writing I’ve done in a while so feedback is always appreciated, but be kind! I may change this to be a reader insert, but I just don’t like how (Y/n) looks in the writing. If y’all want it changed though let me know! Bucky makes his appearance in Chapter 4 so it’s a slow burn romance, but there’s gonna be fluff, angst and smut involved! Steve/Nat and Wanda/Vision are in it later as well, but I wanted to establish the main character a bit first as she’s the only one who's made up

Word Count: 2.0K

Act 1: Chapter 1: The Robbery

Songs inspiring this chapter

Ain’t no rest for the wicked – Cage the Elephant (Bank robbery)

Boss Bitch - Doja Cat (Fight with the avengers)

Monday 10 AM, N.Y.C

“This is it?” you ask, pulling your sunglasses down slightly in order to get a better view of the building standing before you.

“That’s the one.” Your getaway driver Calvin says into your ear piece, he’s a block away in the back of a white van waiting for the go ahead from the boss.

You squint as the sun hits your eyes, letting out a low whistle “Pretty fancy for a bank, you gonna tell me what I’m getting out of here?” you muse.

“That’s on a need to know basis sweetheart.” He responds flatly.

“Well sweetheart, hate to break it to ya, but I need to know!” you pause for a moment to see if you’ve managed to make him laugh “Seriously Calvin this is some of my best stuff!”

“God do you ever shut up, cameras and emergency buttons are down, you just have the guards to worry about now so get on with the job. Once you’re out make sure your face is covered. Do you have your mask with you? ”

“”You know as the person doing most of the brute work I think I deserve a little respect” you retort “Do I have my mask? Do you have your mask Calvin? God your infuriating!” you mutter, pulling out your “mandatory” earpiece and throwing it into a nearby gutter, before taking a quick glance in your purse just in case you had forgot.

Seeing the mask in its place, you pull your leather jacket over a white t-shirt and tighten your belt ensuring your shorts stay in place. Alright let’s do this you think with confidence before immediately tripping over your shoe laces and falling to the ground.

“God how embarrassing” you say slightly louder than you meant too. Pushing yourself onto one knee you tie your laces up and hop back on your feet “Alright let’s try this again.”

You walk through the sliding doors into the marbled interior of the bank, smiling as you pass by two security guards. One with a long mustache and another with a poorly done tattoo of a tiger on his bicep. You make note of the other two guards who were currently leaning up against the roman-esque columns lining the perimeter of the building. One was wearing sunglasses and the other was casually twirling a baton around.

“Hey, only four of you guys defending this whole building?” You inquire

“Ya sweetheart just the four of us, but don’t you worry we’ll keep ya safe” Tattoo replied with a smile and a slightly unnerving arm touch.

“Well thank goodness for that and god bless America!” you say sweetly grinning from ear to ear. Turning on your heel you head towards the counter ringing the bell twice before a woman in her mid-twenties appears from the back room and walks over to the counter. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Sandy.

“Hi there Sandy, how are you today?”

“I'm doing just fine thanks for asking and what can I do for you today?” She replied with a smile.

“I’m here to retrieve my belongings. Vault 176 here’s the key.” you say sliding it under the protective glass. Sandy smiles politely and walks into the backroom for a few minutes before emerging with a small box.

“Alright, I’m just going to need see some ID then your good to go ma’am”

“Well you see Sandy, I left it at home and my husband’s gonna kill me if I don’t get this back to him tonight could you do a gal a favour and just look the other way?” you plead

“I’m really sorry ma’am, but I just can’t do that.” Sandy replies sympathetically.

“Well I understand,” you say “Oh and Sandy, I’m sorry about this really I am”

“Sorry for what exactly ma’am?” she asks with a worried tone

“For this' ' you jump onto the counter and pull out a gun “Hi, yea, hello, people of the bank can I have your attention please? I just wanted to inform you all that I’m gonna be robbing this branch, but this does not mean it has to be a traumatic or unpleasant experience. I just need that box there and I don’t want anyone to get hurt, really I don’t. So if you could pretty please hand it over to me and any spare cash you have lying around this joint.”

Unfortunately, Tattoo, Mustache, Sunglasses, and Twirly were now approaching you with guns raised.

“Ma’am drop your weapon and put your hands where I can see them” demands Mustache

“C’mon sweetheart we both know you don’t know how to handle that thing.” Sunglasses says patronizingly

“Fine you got me glasses.” you pout “My little lady brain doesn’t know how to use a gun!” you exclaim before quickly throwing the gun at him, hitting him right in the head and knocking him out “ You’re supposed to throw the gun right?”

Mustache rushes towards you at full speed. Before he can reach you, you jump off the counter connecting the soles of your feet to his face knocking him down onto the floor unconscious. You land painfully on your hip feeling a bruise forming almost instantly.

The last two guards begin their approach. From the ground you kick Twirlys feet out from under him and jump to fight the baton out of his hand. Punching him in the throat you stand up and turn to knock tattoo, your least favorite of the four, right in the stomach with the baton. He doubles over in pain. Twirly tries to stand up, but you bring the top of your foot down on his neck causing him to drop, this time staying down. Bringing the same leg forward you knee tattoo in the nuts and feign a pained look as he topples over. Bending over you pick up the three guns now lying on the floor

“You know, you should really learn how to use these properly. Wouldn’t want you hurting anyone, especially yourselves.” You scold. The few people in the bank remained still and decided it was probably best to comply with you. You turn back to the counter now sweating, and Sandy hands you the box from the vault and a bag full of cash which she had filled during the beatdown.

“Thanks Sandy you’re a peach!”

Sandy looks at you pleadingly “Oh come on, we both know you ain’t gonna get fired because some lady came in and threatened you. If anything you should sue them, unsafe workplace and all” you offer sincerely with a shrug of your shoulders.

You gingerly step over the four guards lying on the floor and slip on your mask before exiting the bank.

Monday 10:25 AM Avengers Tower

A field agent runs into Tony’s office where he and Steve were working “Sir one of the downtown branches has been broken into!” he wheezes.

“And?” says Tony

“And you’re going to want to see this” He pulls up a video taken by one of the bystanders in the bank. The video depicts the scene of you beating up the four guards.

“You know who that is?” Steve asks Tony

“Never seen her before in my life, which is surprising considering how well she fights. Let’s get in for questioning. I'm a bit busy here so Steve if you wouldn’t mind.” He says turning back to his work.

“Peter, Wanda suit up, we’ve got a robbery to stop” Steve orders.

10:35 AM Downtown N.Y.C

God this mask is hot you think struggling to get the eyes hole in place as you approach the white van concealing Calvin’s whereabouts. Knocking three times he open the door and you

throw the small box from the vault up to him.

‘’What have I told you about taking out your ear piece?” he fumed “And what the hell is in that bag?” he shouts pointing to the large bag of cash you had grabbed.

“Money.” you say with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Last time I checked boss said no extra risks, he ain’t gonna be happy about this.”

“Well last time I checked he likes money” you respond causing Calvin to become even more agitated. As you turn to grab the money you see a ball of red light come hurling at you. You duck just in time.

“Shit, how the hell did the goddamn Avengers get here so fast?” Calvin shouts, you grab the money and throw it into the back of the van he extends his hand and you’re about to grab it when BAM something hits you in the back knocking you forward.

“Alright who the fuck threw a whole ass shield at me!” You yell more irritated that angry

“We gotta go c’mon Eve” Calvin pleads “Boss really ain’t gonna like this!”

“Screw that, this just got personal! Go, i’ll catch up” you promise turning and running towards the shield throwing culprit a.k.a Captain American. You kick him right in the gut having caught him slightly off-guard he doubles over. You remove your belt and wrap it around his neck pulling as hard as you can.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a superhero or something?“ you begin to ask, but before you can fish the sentence something slaps you in the back of the head pulling off your mask. You're thrown off the captains back.

“Shit!” you mumble before turning to see one of spidey kids webs still holding your mask.

You hear her before you see her “Chris?” you turn to see someone you hadn’t seen in years

“Wanda?” you blink a few times no it can’t be. Just then a truck skids up behind you and firm hands hoists you up

“We gotta go now!” Calvin says angrily, shooting suppressing fire out towards the three avengers.

“Chris!” Wanda yells again before throwing energy towards the truck. You pull the air around it and throw the energy back her way.

With Spiderkid and the captain still on your tail you decide to pull out a few of your old tricks. You pull the branch from a tree up and wrap it around the kids arm trapping him in the tree

“Um Mr. Rogers I’m down and out” he sighs.

“Two down one to go.” you focus on the captain who's now running through the street after you at superhuman speed. Lucky for you it had rained the day before on the street was full of puddles. Crouching down you turn the puddles to ice causing the captain to wipe out. Hard. Closing the doors of the van as It turns the corner you make your way back to your headquarters.

“They made me. Spider kid took my mask.” you whisper hoping Calvin doesn’t hear you

“He ain’t gonna be happy” he chastised.

“God you don’t think I already know that! At least we got the goods. He’s gonna be real happy about that!”

[kitanoko]

Can I request a fanfic involving Todoroki listening to Momo's heartbeat and/or performing CPR on her?

         Note: thanks for the prompt, I finally had inspiration ‘cas of a comment on reddit this week and yesssssss this is just part one! Leave me a comment, I love reading those and thanks for everyone’s support as always! :D

      In which the doctor meets his match Part 1/3

       Yaoyorozuwoke up to the sound of ocean waves that reverberated from her phone. With alimp touch of a finger, she slid the ‘turn off’ indication that popped out onthe alarm screen and wiped a bead of sweat off her heated forehead. Herhalf-lidded eyes fixed on the notifications that revealed itself one by one onher phone and she could only swallow the knot that seemed to have lodged in herthroat.

       23 emailssince last night at 11pm.

       Seriously?

       Thedark-haired girl pressed a palm against her aching chest. She was having that feelingagain. That hallow yet painful rhythm of her heart that wasn’t like usual.Since a week ago her stomach had been twisting and her heart had been hammeringat every turn of her boss’ demands; sometimes her legs would feel weak withprickly skin like needles to flesh.

Maybe Jirou was right—she was having a nervous breakdownfrom work.

      Without skimming through those blasted emailsthat surely came from her secretary and bosses, Yaoyorozu made up her mind witha sigh. One day of missed work is nothing, she tried to convince herself.

      She tapped aquick email of her own addressed to Mr.Aizawa, who’d been her favourite, andbriefly mentioned that she needed a day off to get a checkup. Her best friendsadvised her before to see her family doctor in case something was really wrongbut Yaoyorozu kept brushing it off.

   “Oh its nothing!”Yaoyorozu would say to Mina and Jirou, “I probably just need more sleep. Youknow those houses won’t design themselves!”

    But surelyenough, the girl would get home and lift open her laptop with a warm mug ofassam tea next to her, letting her fingers work away at the blueprints. Her ‘babies’she started calling it (clearly picking that up from Hatsume who had been hergreatest partner) were Yaoyorozu’s greatest passion and she had never taken aday off since last year.

    Everything had tohave a ‘first’ though, and Yaoyorozu figured if she wanted to get back to herlatest project, she’s going to have to fix herself up before anything else. Shehad no one to blame but herself for overworking her gears and wearing themaway.

   The girl threw onthe brick-coloured fleece sweater hanging on her chair, slipped into hermust-have Levi’s and hurried out the door, her purse dangling on her elbow.

~~~~

    “Closed on Fridays?!”Yaoyorozu gasped, mouth agape in frustration. The working hours of the usualclinic that she visited had flew off her mind and she had completely forgottenthat her doctor wouldn’t be here today.

         She pressedlittle half-moons against her palm with her nails—a habit she had when she wasin need of comfort, and fished out her phone to make a few searches. Seemedlike the closest clinic that was open with the highest rating on Google was ‘Dr.TodorokiShouto’, just a street away.

       Curiosity gotthe better of her and she flicked down the screen to see the reviews. Yaoyorozuscowled.

     “He is sodreamy!!!!” a user named pokemon3094 stated.

      “not onlyclever but also pretty” another comment read.

      Seemed like theonly comment that didn’t leave a five star review was someone named nejideservedbetter239who said “I swear my girlfrd broke up with me ‘caz of this doctor.”

      Her eyebrowsscrunched together and was unconvinced these superficial feedbacks were a goodsign but there must be a reason why this ‘Dr.Todoroki’ had such a following. Shegiggled slightly at the thought if it was her friend Mina who had been calledto go to this doctor since Mina would definitely be shrieking with enthusiasmwith eyes sparkling at the opportunity. She remembered last time when she wascaught going through some of her latest designs with a well-suited young man namedShinsou who came to poach talent from every interior design company over tohis. Mina was freaking out about how handsome he was and Yaoyorozu could onlyroll her eyes in disbelief. She respected Shinsou’s company but she had strictloyalty at hers and if he thought that a mere 5-figure deal could entice then hewas wrong. But she digressed.

If it wasn’t for Yaoyorozu’s love of interior design (andwork), she would’ve stayed at home and waited till her doctor was back; Aizawawould’ve let her go without a doctor’s note anyway since she was his self-proclaimedfavourite mentee but the girl was one to follow company policy and so she hadto head over there despite her worries over this ‘other doctor’.

~~~~

      The black-haired girl arrived at thedoorsteps after a quick 5 minute trek. Shoulders slumping, a contrast to herusual confident poise, Yaoyorozu walked into the tidy, pristinely white-walledclinic. Even the marble tiles under her navy blue Repetto flats screamedelegance, and she internally complimented whoever decided to place two pots ofpurple orchids at the diagonal corners of the room. Very eye-catching indeedand well-placed. She also noticed a few people, young and old, flipping throughcooking magazines, most likely awaiting their turn.

    “Miss could Ihelp you?” A sweet orange-haired girl spoke nudging Yaoyorozu to come forward.Her name tag said ‘Kendou Itsuka’ and Yaoyorozu greeted her with a small grin.

   “I’m here as awalk-in,” the girl answered, digging through her purse for her ID cards, “wouldthere be space?”

   “Ah yes, ofcourse,” Kendou nodded, eyes scanning the monitor in front of her, “Perhapsabout a 20 minute wait? What are you here for?”

    Yaoyorozu thoughtfor a moment, sliding her medical card across the grey counter, “I think I’mhaving some issues dealing with stress, I’m not sure. But 20 minutes is goodwith me.”

   Kendou eyed hermedical card for a brief second and clicked a few times on the mouse. Yaoyorozucouldn’t help but notice how her eyes had that modelesque iridescent sparkle. “Perfect,thank you and please take a seat.”

   “Okay,” the latteranswered and popped over on an empty soft-cushioned bench. She thumbed a fewissues of Vogue, crossed her legs and found herself looking up at the girl thatjust sat directly across from her. Was it just Yaoyorozu or was the girl infront of her fiddling a little bit too much with makeup for a doctor’s visit?She watched her retie and untie her hair, load on mascara and now pushing lipstickshard on her plump lips. Yaoyorozu decided whatever, it wasn’t her position tojudge; perhaps that girl had a really important date after, who knows.

    The girl feltherself sinking further into her seat, comfortable at the zen environment andcontemplated when was the last time she was actually relaxed at a clinic. After a few more recipesthat Yaoyorozu took note of, it was already her turn.

   “Yaoyorozu Momo,” Kendoustood up and called. The girl closed the magazine in her hand and pushed herselfup noticing yet again Kendou’s lovely and welcoming smile. Yaoyorozu strolledpast the reception and into the corridor, thinking what she should say to thedoctor if he were to ask what was wrong with her, and found herself knocking afew times before twisting the knob and pushing through the door.

   The first thingshe saw when she came in was a man, probably around her age, with distinct redand white hair almost split perfectly in the middle. His chiseled jaw andserious eyes didn’t go unnoticed and Yaoyorozu swallowed hard at the way helooked at her.

  Charming was anunderstatement.

   “Hello,” she said,gulping right after, and the doctor gestured for her to sit down on the leatherchair. Yaoyorozu felt herself clam up, heart beating harder as if she was goingto have an anxiety attack, and practically stumbled into her seat.

   She wanted to openher mouth and ask what happened to his DNA, what kind of scientific marvel washe, but figured there was no answer to such meaningless questions anyway. Shewas here for her heart problems, nothing else.

   Though it wouldn’thurt to recommend him for Mina’s next doctor checkup.

   “So what can I dofor you today?” Dr.Todoroki spoke. His voice was deep, almost too sensual forher conscience, and wondered how many hearts had been stolen from his gazealone.

 “My heart.”Yaoyorozu answered immediately, straightening herself. She saw the doctor slide hischair over closer, arms reaching to his stethoscope.

  “Your heart. Okaywhat’s wrong with your heart. Can you be more specific?”

 Yaoyorozu’s lipspursed at his blasé nature and reckoned not all doctors could be like herformer one, cheery and positive.

 “I’ve beenoverworking myself I think, that’s why sometimes I’d feel an ache in my chest.My heart’s been beating really fast and I have a hard time sleeping.”

 “Mmm,” he only saidand motioned for her to turn around, “I’ll check your breathing first.”

 The girl leaned abit to the side and faced the ‘Know your STDs’ poster right behind her and feltthe end of the stethoscope rest on several parts on her back. Her eyes skimmedthe grotesque cartoon pictures of viruses and bacteria on the seeminglycolourful poster and heard the doctor move back. The otherwise quiet roomfilled with a bit of his monotonous humming.

“Can you turn back around, I need to hear your heartbeat,”his indifferent voice came. Yaoyorozu did as she was told and tensed at what was tocome. She knew she was a very well-endowed woman, growing up she had problemswith sneers and leers of those who either envied or wanted her for her assets.Yaoyorozu tried to steer her thoughts elsewhere when Dr.Todoroki leaned forwardto press the end of his instrument on the top of her left breast.

She felt her heartbeat suddenly accelerating, fistsclenching as her cheeks turned apple-red. She noticed his eyes trying to fix onsomething else also, perhaps slightly embarrassed at how his fingers had justbrushed against her breast as indicated by the reddened tips of his ears. 

Get it together, Yaoyorozu!! She told herself, It’s not like you haven’t a good-looking guy get close to you before!

 Sheswore he froze for a second like deer in headlights as well, and quickly retracted.

He was a doctor though, he must have experienced thousandsof such situations. Why was he embarrassed?

The girl bit inside her cheek and watched as the doctor rana hand through his hair, revealing more of the dark scar around his left eyethat she had noticed earlier.

“Palpitations,” he said, sounding confident in hisdiagnosis, and cleared his throat. He grabbed the pen lying on top of his keyboardand let it dance in scribbles on the memo pad in front of him. “Most likelyfrom stress, I’d advise you stay at home for two days for some rest.”

“Two days?!” She uttered in disbelief and quickly coveredher mouth at the sudden outburst. Hopefully no one outside heard.

“Yes, two whole days.” He said sternly and gave hissignature at the bottom before pushing it towards her, “Here’s your doctor’snote.”

Yaoyorozu scowled. “Are there any pills I could take thatcould maybe allow me to head back to work after a day?” She knew her questionwas in vain but she had to ask anyway.

Dr.Todoroki spun the pen on his fingers playfully. “No.There’s no medication I could prescribe for now. If it gets worse then comeback and I’ll send you over to a specialist.” He gave her one last look ofconcern while she pouted with a grimace like a child denied of candy.

“Your health should be your priority, like how it is mine.”

Yaoyorozu was taken aback by the sudden thoughtful messagefrom the otherwise apathetic doctor in front of her and she could only nod inresponse. Uncrossing her legs, she stashed the note in her pocket after foldingit in half and grinned.

“Thank you, I’ll make sure to come back if it worsens.”

“Sure.”

~~~~

“You went to who again?!”

Mina’s voice was thunderous, as if she was directly insidethe phone. Yaoyorozu had to pull back at how much it hurt her ear as she stoodin line for her daily latte, fresh roast waking her senses.

“Dr.Todoroki.”

“OH MY GOD, he was on TV last week! The total hottie whograduated from Tokyo Med. UGH I’ve been hoping I’d be sick so I could go to hisclinic. I bet there were so many people waiting!”

Yaoyorozu sighed. “You’re ridiculous Mina. You want to besick just to see a doctor? Yes, I agree, he’s quite easy on the eyes butseriously, he’s not going to be what you expect.”

She could hear Mina making tsk noises on the other side. “Yaomomo,you just have too high of a standard.”

“No I do not—“

“Remember when the son of Hitoshi Architect Ltd. came andyou said he was ‘normal looking’.”

“That was totally different Mina, I swear, Dr.Todoroki hasthe voice of morse code.”

“What’s that mean? Like he’s cryptic?”

“No, it means he sounds boring.”

“Psh, you’re just saying that. So many girls squealed onlineabout him. I don’t believe you one bit Yaomomo. I bet you had palpitations not ‘causeof work but ‘cause you saw his handsome face.”

Yaoyorozu rolled her eyes before mouthing ‘one latte’ to thecashier who already knew her usual order since she came here every day beforework.

“Mina, I gotta go,” Yaoyorozu uttered, slipping her slimfingers in her wallet to fish out a five-dollar bill, “Don’t worry about me eventhough I bet you aren’t really and tell Jirou I’ll be seeing you guys still tomorrownight.”

“Okay Yaomomo, take care and don’t you dare see this doctorwithout me next time!” With that Mina clicked to hang up and the black-hairedgirl could only smirk at how silly her friend is. There were times when she wasfrustrated at them but also mainly because they were such foils to herpersonality. Mina was able to brighten up her day, Jirou grounded her, andUraraka and Hagakure knows how to put anyone at ease with their bubbliness.

She slipped a sleeve onto the latte that had just been made,paying attention still on the messages she had been receiving through the groupchat and sucked in a bit of the delicious milk foam that hadspilled over on her finger. Yaoyorozu had been grinning ear to ear when she hadturned around unsuspecting, bumping straight onto someone who had stood behindher causing her freshly made drink to pour horrendously on his white Henley.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!” Yaoyorozu said, astonished at thedisaster and she grabbed a handful of tissues to wipe the drink off his shirt,perhaps further pushing the stain into the fabric. She tilted her head up tosee her victim and fell silent.

There stood Todoroki, the doctor that she had just discussedabout with Mina, looking quite peeved, and she still had her palm up againsthis thinly draped chest.

Talk about heartwarming.

[comicteaparty]

May 9th, 2019 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party chat that occurred on May 9th, 2019, from 5PM - 7PM PDT.  The chat focused on Lodestar by SasstastiKim.

Featured Comment:

Chat:

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB START!

Good evening, everyone~! This week’s Thursday Book Club is officially beginning! Today we are discussing Lodestar by SasstastiKim~! (http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/)

Remember that Thursday discussions are completely freeform! However, every 30 minutes I will drop in OPTIONAL discussion questions in case you’d like a bit of a prompt. If you miss out on one of these prompts, you can find them pinned for the chat’s duration. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is fun and respectfully appreciating the comic. All that said, let’s begin!

QUESTION 1. What is your favorite scene in the comic so far and why?

Darkhalo4321

My favorite scene has to be... the coffee shop book place thingy. With taylor! Sarcasm max.

Letter Bee

Elliot being told to trust his new friends by his mother.

SpazztastiKim

Author note: chapter one is getting "remodeled" so any suggestions are welcome

Kabocha

My favorite scene? Probably be this one: http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2597078/ch2-pg-17/ ...It's so atmospheric, and that is a very good and creepy looking heart. I'm into the atmosphere. Under @SpazztastiKim's cute artwork lies something deceptively dark...

Darkhalo4321

I looooooovethe backgrounds in that sequence

L O V E

Yes, very dark. >:3c

RebelVampire

yeah i got second that as my favorite scene. cause the atmosphere is to die for. and i love how contrasted it is from the previous scenes cause you go into it and immediately go "oh no a spooky dream"

Kabocha

Also, Kim -- if you are interested in critique, etc, I can throw you thoughts in private, but I didnt' like, make any notes or anything. It's your comic and I figured that you were doin' errything to have fun! (And get some good creepiness in there too)

SpazztastiKim

You are welcome to!

Kabocha

Okay. I'll do that offline and another day, then. But I do think you've got a good story here, so please don't feel obliged to open yourself up to such feedback!

SpazztastiKim

Thank you

Darkhalo4321

Let us gush over how superb becky's optimism is

SpazztastiKim

Lol

RebelVampire

im busy gushing over the dialogue on this page http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2749604/ch3-pg10/

Kabocha

Honestly I just really like the magic effects, not gonna lie

RebelVampire

like its so silly and yet reminds me of youth

Kabocha

I'm looking forward to more magic and ghost stuff

RebelVampire

cause these are random convos i would have as a youth with ppl

Kabocha

YEAH

Darkhalo4321

Same here!

Kabocha

It's so dramatic, and... man,... I remember being like that when I was younger

I don't recall if it's stated in-comic, but how old is everyone?

SpazztastiKim

Not stated yet. You can guess tho XD

RebelVampire

elliot was a 30 year old man this entire time

SpazztastiKim

Oof XDD

Kabocha

Ahahaha. I was guessing 14~15

Darkhalo4321

Im not allowed to guess because i kinda know XD

SpazztastiKim

Lol

Kabocha

Either way, I'm guessing high school for all of them, but nobody's a senior XD

Darkhalo4321

Except for ally

Shes like younger, like idk maybe hr high ish?

I actually dont know for sure her age

RebelVampire

i wouldve guessed middle school personally. but its hard to tell cause i need to see more adults

Kabocha

Maybe? She throws me a little bit? XD She's probably 13ish?

Darkhalo4321

Shes a precious cinnamonroll and needs protected at all costs

RebelVampire

yeah id peg 13ish for ally personally too.

idk if she need the protecting. she is not the one who got tackled to the ground

Kabocha

I would not fight her

Darkhalo4321

No

She will tackle you to the ground in l o v e

Kabocha

I do also really like how everyone's designs are unique

So it's really easy to distinguish who's who (and I'm pretty sure if it was a greyscale comic, it'd still be very easy... Which is really good)

....ALSO WHAT WAS WITH THE POINTY EARS

Darkhalo4321

Yeah kim

S'plain

X'D

Kabocha

I'm getting the feeling that there are spoilers in that answer

SpazztastiKim

OP... someone noticed

Kabocha

but

I can't help but feel like there are some alternate world or reincarnation shenanigans afoot

RebelVampire

elliot was an elf in a past life and the birth he witnessed was from back then

ya know what scratch that

he was the elf prince

Kabocha

Okay so I'm not the only one that thought that though

RebelVampire

just make everyone a prince

SpazztastiKim

Pfft yes

Kabocha

What's with the lanterns though... hahaha

But I really do have to wonder what all is going on there. The wolf skeleton was warning him about a thing he... sealed away.

SpazztastiKim

Was it sealed tho?

Kabocha

.... Maybe not

Darkhalo4321

:0

Kabocha

but, I mean, it's hella vague I feel like the wolf is protecting Elliot tho

Darkhalo4321

I get that vibe too, wasnt nice atthe end tho >:T

Kabocha

No, but this probably has happened before

Darkhalo4321

Ya think?

RebelVampire

when you say this are you talking about the dream itself or like the sealed away creature thing?

Kabocha

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2612346/ch2-pg18/ Well, the wolf says that Elliot's been dragged away before

so the thing that's hunting Elliot in his dream proooooooooooooooooooooooooobably has gone after him before

unless the "Birth" in question means it manifested in physical form

Darkhalo4321

D:

OH

Kabocha

KIM IS THIS NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET, AND ALL THESE KIDS ARE GONNA GET KILLED BY FREDDY

Darkhalo4321

Maybe

XD

MAYBE

SpazztastiKim

Pffft

RebelVampire

that theory did occur to me

cause of the dream themes

that this is basically monster in the dreams

rip everyone

Darkhalo4321

I mean, I know kim loves horror movies SO

Kabocha

Nightmare on Elm Street: The Dream Warriors II

RebelVampire

so the thing about the pointy ears that actually interests me the most is that elliot didnt seem to notice all that much or care. and like i know there was a bloody skeleton wolf scaring the crap outta him, but i feel like hed have at least been a little like "hey i am an elf boy now"

also the fact that the dream did not start off with pointy ears

they only showed up with wolf dude

Kabocha

It might be a sign of magic or something. Or maybe he and his ghost are just used to the pointed ears showing up

Darkhalo4321

Ooohh

I didn't notice tyhat!

Kabocha

I did have to re-read that part when I looked at this earlier this week -- it was like "waaaaaaaaaaait a minute"

SpazztastiKim

Hmm WHEN did the change happen again?

Darkhalo4321

Hm indeed

Kabocha

It seems to be a slow transition to be honest

Darkhalo4321

you know who we haven't mentioned yet- TOM my favorite character.

Kabocha

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2456424/ch2-pg11/ On this page, they start to look slightly pointed http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2505393/ch2-pg12/ AND THEN He starts to hear things and cough... And magic shows up in the next page

mathtans

Here for the moment, the little one is being very fussy this evening. I think my favourite scene was in the night terror in chapter 2, where we just had the glowing eyes - and then Mandy's glowing hand. Creepy and atmospheric.

Scrolling back to read, I liked how Elliot was thankful not to be a hobbit when he woke.

Darkhalo4321

Right?

Imagine if he woke up and HAD POINTY EARS

the rest of the cast would have been howling

Kabocha

Also, he's focusing on the important things: Not being a dream zombie

RebelVampire

i will be surprised if that doesnt happen one day. that he wakes up with elf ears and has to explain to everyone that surprise, hes an elf now

QUESTION 2. Dreams seem to be central to the story at hand. How do you interpret Elliot’s latest dream? Was it a dream, or was it something more? Whose birth did Elliot supposedly witness, and what exactly is it hungering for? Who is the black wolf that delivers the warnings to Elliot, and why is Elliot the one tasked with helping to defeat whatever the wolf is warning him about? Additionally, if this is no simple dream, why doesn’t Elliot remember this supposed event? Last but not least, what do you make of Elliot’s appearance change within the dream, and what do you think the meaning of the lantern is?

mathtans

I don't think it's a nightmare on elm street kind of thing, because Crystal Lake was dropped as a reference, so these sorts of things already exist in the characters' universe.

Chapter 4, Elliot joins an elf help group.

RebelVampire

but see thats the genius of it. drop the refs, nobody thinks anything of it and is like "ah just a red herring"

and then boom

dream murderer

Kabocha

THE DREAM WAS A WARNING I don't know if the "Starve it" Though... well. Maybe it wants to eat his dreams. Dream eater. OH MY GOD ELLIOT'S BEING HUNTED BY A DROWZEE

Darkhalo4321

THAT PUN WAS GOLD

That would be sneaky!

mathtans

It can't be a simple dream either way. Mandy joined him. That can't be a normal thing for ghosts. Can it?

RebelVampire

yeah starve it really interesting. cause what do you have to deprive the creature or whatever it is of to starve it? is elliot just not supposed to get eaten? is it dreams? is it ghosts?

although maybe its the lantern

nah

no way that was just a dream

Kabocha

Maybe. The lantern did come out as danger started to come near

RebelVampire

that was a vision

Kabocha

what is Mandy anyway

didn't he say that she was never alive to begin with? Or was he speaking generally

....What if Mandy was a victim of the thing?

RebelVampire

or even worse

mandy is the thing

SpazztastiKim

Scary

Darkhalo4321

Mandi is an imaginary friend taken form because of El? Maybe? Like, Can El manifest things?

Without knowing it-

RebelVampire

that could also be true

but im now sticking to the she is the thing one

cause it would explain why the wolf kicked her out

and said "no dream warnings for you"

Darkhalo4321

Aw

I know she's not like... real but she HAS FEELINGS DREAM WOLF

OH, but aside from just El having that one nightmare, apparently it's a prevalent problem going on- so it's not just isolated.

RebelVampire

ya know, i just want to point out if the dream wolf is going around warning ppl, the strategy is not very effective. fear is not the answer wolf.

Kabocha

Based on the comic description... We'll have to see more about that though

I dunno, if you scare someone enough, they'll stay away

Darkhalo4321

maybe el gets royal treatment of being warned

Kabocha

maybe the wolf is protecting the place where "it" is

Darkhalo4321

while everyone else just gets stalked with EYES

Kabocha

it's because he's acutally Frodo Baggins

Darkhalo4321

YES

HE IS SHORT

Kabocha

and the thing after them is Melkor. Or Sauron.

SpazztastiKim

obviously its voldemort

Darkhalo4321

!!!

you mean, he who should not be named!

Kabocha

GASP!

What about the Babadook

SpazztastiKim

my bad

OOF

RebelVampire

where elliot lives the dream wolf is just how the letters are delivered

Darkhalo4321

Baba Yaga

RebelVampire

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2597078/ch2-pg-17/ so i wonder who all the creepy ppl are in the bg

mathtans

Maybe it's like regular dreams, you don't really remember them unless you're woken up in the middle. So the wolf is waking everyone up with love bites.

RebelVampire

like was the creature born cause ppl were like "yaay sacrifice"

Kabocha

Oh, great, the wolf is my cat

SpazztastiKim

pfft

Darkhalo4321

if that's what you call a LOVE bite...>>

RebelVampire

the wolf is reading the wrong book of how to talk to humans

SpazztastiKim

lol

mathtans

There were five witnesses to the birth maybe, Rebel. They were summoned to the place in dreams.

Superjustinbros

HELLO

Kabocha

I'mma go out on a limb and say the people in the BG were part of the creation. THE COUNCIL OF CREATION A bunch of high elves that decided one day, "hey, let's just do this whole thing and nothing can go wrong" And Elliot was like, "NOPE" And died and went into another world where it was nearly unleashed upon them.

Justin, what are your thoughts on the Wolf and the Five people on Chapter 2, Page 17?

mathtans

They're looking at a heart.

Superjustinbros

Can I bring it home and call it Maniac?

SpazztastiKim

good name for it

Superjustinbros

Anyways hey there, sorry I'm a bit late

Room's getting redesigned but to stray from going offtopic I wanted to drop in and hand out and see what we're all talknig about tonight

RebelVampire

they are looking at a heart. Elliot was the mage who betrayed the council and realized his magic was for healing not the dark arts

Kabocha

Yep. We're talking about this week's comic -- Lodestar. As is the usual thing on the Thursday Bookclub~

Superjustinbros

Oh yea

Kabocha

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2597078/ch2-pg-17/ But really, I wonder what "it" is. .... Maybe there was a ritual.

Superjustinbros

Is that white line it's eye

Kabocha

Also -- did Eliot's magical scratch appear when the lantern showed up I'm just noticing this Does magic have a price?

RebelVampire

i assum eyes, the white line is its eye

that page did have the atmosphere of ritual

mostly cause of the heart

you dont hold beating hearts unless youre doing a ritual

idk i couldnt figure out when the scratch showed up. id have to look again super close

Darkhalo4321

It's def. Skooky

Kabocha

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2547332/ch2-pg14/ It's this page, Rebel

Superjustinbros

I ruined the feel of this image

SpazztastiKim

pfft(edited)

meme material

Darkhalo4321

I mean- MAYBE the wolf thing, wants to be empathetci?

Kabocha

"The woods cried out: FEED ME pls can i haz yer dinner hoomin"

Darkhalo4321

also likes hoomin heartz

SpazztastiKim

GOOD LORD XDD

mathtans

The whole glowing eyes thing is pretty cool. Not sure how the effect is done, but nice.

Darkhalo4321

It's not like I LIKE you or anything! B-BAKA!

SpazztastiKim

TSUNDERE DEMON

Darkhalo4321

kiss kiss fall in the lake!

Kabocha

Also likes hoomin necks They are like beef, but more gamey

mathtans

Maybe the demon is actually that aunt, the one who made the tea.

SpazztastiKim

Nom nom

Darkhalo4321

D:

Taylor?!

Kabocha

... I mean, dreams can be representational

so you got a Mama Wolf protectin' her youngins

Darkhalo4321

maybe- el is part dream wolf?

SpazztastiKim

i'm dead

mathtans

Yis. Summoned Elliot into town so the ghost Mandy could help.

"My other form is also a wolf."

RebelVampire

elliot wasnt real all along

he was summon

Kabocha

Oh no

Darkhalo4321

MAYBE- el is the creation woooooo

Kabocha

This isn't Final Fantasy 10, Rebel

unless we're getting meta, and we need El's father to be the wolf -- a summon from a dream becomes a dreaming summoned beast...

Darkhalo4321

I mean like-

We haven't SEEN el's dad yet so

Superjustinbros

"Hey, you OK?" "Does this look "Okay" to you?!"

_okay I'm done

Back to the comic

RebelVampire

yeah i was just about to say this is really gonna mess up the archives if it continues since i cant include images XD

Superjustinbros

Yeah lol

I feel like the joke has run it's course anyways

SpazztastiKim

I'm crying

Superjustinbros

You can only hammer in a joke edit so many times before it stops being entertaining

RebelVampire

onto the scratch. i get more the impression that the scratch was gonna happen anyway and the lantern showed up saying "hey stop scratching my boy"

Kabocha

image: [Elliot: don't make me Tidus- I wanna be Cloud]

SpazztastiKim

asdfghjkl!!!!

Superjustinbros

you wanna be a Cloud?

Darkhalo4321

giant SWORD

Superjustinbros

Oh that Cloud

RebelVampire

QUESTION 3. Early on, we learn that Elliot is supposedly psychic or an empath. Do you think Elliot is telling the truth about mostly just seeing ghosts, or does he really have other psychic powers as the others accuse him of? Who exactly do you think Mandy is, and what do you make of her closeness with Elliot? In other words, how do you think the two met? Do you think Elliot was born with whatever powers he has, or does it somehow tie into the creature he was warned about in the dream? Overall, how do you think Elliot’s abilities will help or hinder him in his task? What about in general for his newfound life in the town?

Kabocha

Elliot would not be a good Cloud, honestly. He's got too much personality, and too little damage from experimentation

Superjustinbros

Well we've seen a demon and a ghost so...

Kabocha

I THINK Mandy is his sister from another life. Or his best friend. And she couldn't be reincarnated with him, so she stuck around.

RebelVampire

was gonna go with his stillborn sister who never was

Darkhalo4321

But she was stated as never having BEEN alive?

That she wasn't real?

Kabocha

She's real for sure

She could also be a magic spirit, so she was never alive in the sense that humans would comprehend

Darkhalo4321

Real blue

SpazztastiKim

Har

mathtans

Elliot is all digital. He's in the Cloud.

RebelVampire

Elliot: I'm sorry Mandy but you're not real. Mandy: I'm...I'm floating right here and we're talking. Elliot: No, still not real.

Darkhalo4321

Maybe- El got the magic powers? ? From his last enounter that almost took him? And maybe mandi is some form of like... side kick from that?

Superjustinbros

Cloud saves? @mathtans

mathtans

I do think Elliot probably has other powers, but I don't think he actually knows about them. As to Mandy, I like Rebel's theory.(edited)

Kabocha

El goes on Dr. Phil, gets told "Perception is reality" Mandy laughs because... well

RebelVampire

so basically mandy is his familiar?

Superjustinbros

>Dr Phil I haven't heard that in a long time

Seems like it

Darkhalo4321

honestly, El would just sass his way out of dr. phil's show. they'd be like plz leave

Maybe?

RebelVampire

thats when they send him to jerry springer

mathtans

How did Mandy get her name? She must have existed at some point. Elliot doesn't seem like the type to just come up with that name, he's too introverted.

Kabocha

Maybe she has some sort of secret magic name

Darkhalo4321

Maybe Mandi named herself?

or came with a name?

Kabocha

and "Mandy" is just short for like Almandiasoriginamyeriath

mathtans

Bless you.

Darkhalo4321

cough kabo that's... I'm dying XD

Kabocha

HEY I know what "Bless you" means in some places!

Darkhalo4321

Salude

SpazztastiKim

ME TOO

Superjustinbros

Gesundheit.

RebelVampire

if we go with reincarnation being in this, maybe mandy isnt real cause she hasnt moved on in this life, has no memories of her past, and is basically just an empty shell floating around

Darkhalo4321

Oooh?

That's an interesting theory

Superjustinbros

I've seen stories with spirits like this

Kabocha

I'm curious to see what Mandy is later in the story, though. Like, if she's not real, then what is she. I'm pretty sure if she got kicked out of the dream, she's got some substance to her.

Superjustinbros

Yeah..

RebelVampire

well i guess it largely depends on what elliot's definition of real is

Darkhalo4321

:0

RebelVampire

i could also argue elliot is just deluding himself as to whether shes real or not because its how he protects his sanity

cause elliot doesnt seem fond of the idea that he has powers

so if he pretends none of its real its fine

Darkhalo4321

Yeah considering that he got REAL dark real fast when Becky kind of prodded him about the idea of it being... odd-

but thank god for Mandi she reeled that back in fast.

Kabocha

Elliot's been through some crap, hasn't he

Darkhalo4321

I FEEL like it- He's been through something- :/ but what? WHO knows-

RebelVampire

Elliot remembers the great elf war

Darkhalo4321

maybe el is actually an elf from another world, and this is an isekai story and we have no idea

Kabocha

"Remembers" only in his dreams

I AM DOWN FOR THIS

Darkhalo4321

reverse isekai?

RebelVampire

i am ok with this

Kabocha

YEP.

SpazztastiKim

Y'all would be great at DnD

Darkhalo4321

I'm going to get yelled at aren't I?

Superjustinbros

is not a DnD player(edited)

Kabocha

I'm also cool with it being a reincarnation story, or just that El gets to see all sorts of monstrous things because he's got some sort of magic shenanigans going on

Darkhalo4321

poor unfortunate soooooul

RebelVampire

im ok as long as elliot lives to tell the story cause the world would be a lesser place without his snark

Darkhalo4321

I would cry

SpazztastiKim

X'D

Darkhalo4321

I would actually FLY TO KIM'S AND we'd have a long talk

>:T

#teamelliotlives

SpazztastiKim

-tosses the idea pretending I never planned it-

mathtans

Maybe Mandy will start possessing people. Suddenly Becky gets real mellow. Suspicious.

SpazztastiKim

pfft

Superjustinbros

Oh good just what we need

Ghosts doing ghost stuff

RebelVampire

wait maybe mandy is just the manifestation of elliot's lantern hence why she was never alive and isnt real

Kabocha

WAIT, Is there a risk of people actually dying in this story ... ...Kim are you going to kill off Elliot

SpazztastiKim

no

Darkhalo4321

I feel like Becky would out.... do a ghost?

SpazztastiKim

HA

Darkhalo4321

SHE IS JUST TOO MUICH spirit for them XD

RebelVampire

Tom though is probably doomed for possession

SpazztastiKim

Poor Tom

Kabocha

.... Oh god you're probably right Rebel

Darkhalo4321

Becky is the one that would go " NO YOU DONT! " and unpossess herself with will power

Kabocha

Tom gets possessed and he seese EVERY HORRIBLE THING he's forced to do to feed the hunger

Darkhalo4321

NOT TOM

Kabocha

turns out the hunger is just really into chocolates

SpazztastiKim

PFFT

Darkhalo4321

NOOOO

Kabocha

They break into a Godiva shop with Tom's body

Superjustinbros

Did someone say chocolates?

Darkhalo4321

CHOCOLATE?!

Superjustinbros

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2771909/ch3-pg14/ I wonder what flavor everyone's getting then

Kabocha

The Wolf isn't super keen on the whole Chocolates thing though, because, y'know, theobromine poisoning...

SpazztastiKim

hehe

Darkhalo4321

so that's why the wolf says STARVE it

Superjustinbros

Tsundre wolf cannot consume ice cream

RebelVampire

well at least a chocolate quest would be more pleasant than alternatives XD

Darkhalo4321

TRUE

Superjustinbros

XD

Chocolate Ice Cream? :3

RebelVampire

thats going too far in the sweets department questing O_O

Kabocha

Hey, at least Tom won't have to gorge himself on other things. But they do find out their local big box store was robbed of all its chocolate rabbits around easter...

SpazztastiKim

Truly the worst that could happen to this town(edited)

RebelVampire

but after Tom is freed hed never want to eat chocolate ever again

Kabocha

That's a tragedy.

Superjustinbros

RIP Chocolate rabbits.

RebelVampire

i want to see more tom though. i appreciate his calm demeanor in the face of the girls rampant amounts of energy

Darkhalo4321

Yes

Tom seems like the, solid rock founddation of the group type

mathtans

I like that idea that Mandy is just the manifestation of some object. Maybe something Elliot carries with him. A watch? He was good at pegging tea time.

RebelVampire

also cause tom is the useful one. cause becky is like "FARM FESTIVAL" and Ally is like "SWIMMING AND ICE CREAM" meanwhile tom is being a good boy and researching stuff for elliot

mathtans

Tom is a good counterpoint. He understands all the characters too.

Darkhalo4321

Like Hey let's do the job our club is suppose to do, shall we?

RebelVampire

Elliot is a time lord

mathtans

Oh yeah, the Farm Festival is sure to be a plot point. It's a metaphor for something.

RebelVampire

mystery solved(edited)

Darkhalo4321

I mean, if this were ouran host club, he's kyouya ... the only one that keeps the club on TASK

mathtans

Elliot's consciousness is trapped in a pocketwatch. With Mandy.

RebelVampire

ya know i could dig time lord elliot tho for reals. cause it explains why hes an elf or something. he just time travels and forgets he time travels. but why he knows how to save ppl from falling stuff

Kabocha

The farm festival will be... full of lore. About how they had the festival to appease a hungry beast.

Superjustinbros

oh boy

Darkhalo4321

Maybe

They farm

hearts

SpazztastiKim

HA

gross

Kabocha

Hey, the heart could have been a Deer Heart

Darkhalo4321

was it though?

Kabocha

Coulda been.

RebelVampire

QUESTION 4. As the comic opens up, we meet a slew of characters and learn some notable things in regards to dream. What do you make of the fact another person is supposedly having intense dreams similar to Elliot’s? Does this have anything to do with the creature, or is it simply a red herring? If it does have something to do with it, what do you think Elliot will have to do about it to help the victim? In general, how do you think the dream club Elliot joined will help him in his overall task? Moving on from Elliot, which of Elliot’s friends are you looking forward to learning more about? In what ways do you think these friends might help Elliot deal with his problems and his quest?

Superjustinbros

How intense we talking? Like, Math Test insane?

Darkhalo4321

WELL Becky has every intention of making sure el has a social life, some what-

Tom will probably ensure no one dies- or he'll die trying.

RebelVampire

dark no

dont even suggest tom dies

Darkhalo4321

What if

he does die tho

RebelVampire

protect that child

Darkhalo4321

D:

RebelVampire

no protect that child

Darkhalo4321

Ally tho

RebelVampire

or dont and be optimistic and assume him becoming a ghost will make him the most powerful being

Darkhalo4321

:0

Ghost Tom

mathtans

Elliot's the replacement Chosen One. The current one in town is having trouble.

Darkhalo4321

current one?

Superjustinbros

?

SpazztastiKim

esplain Mathans

Kabocha

So, if we were to categorize these characters as horror characters...

Darkhalo4321

NOOOO

like horror movie horror, or like scary movie parody horror?

SpazztastiKim

Yes

Superjustinbros

Oh dear, this is gonna be fun >:3

Kabocha

.... Elliot's our Canary, though sometimes the canary lives Tom's dead. I'm sorry. Becky will be scarred for life, but probably will be the one carrying the plot and making sure everyone survives. Allison... She will not be in the horror parts. She'll be the character that calls the cops at the end.

Superjustinbros

rip Tom.

RebelVampire

no all of you need to stop killing off tom

SpazztastiKim

Just straight up kill off Tom

RebelVampire

the next page of the comic is literally just a dagger flying through the window and stabbing tom in the heart

Darkhalo4321

I'm pretty sure I saw the next page, can confirm

Superjustinbros

oof

Darkhalo4321

tom actually falls backwards out of his chair and LANDS on a dagger. effectively killing him off. Then the comic ends. Tom was the danger ALL ALONG(edited)

Superjustinbros

Dear god

That's cold

SpazztastiKim

A twist to make m night shyamalan proud

Kabocha

Lol Justin if you believe that you obviously haven't read through this comic

RebelVampire

no no the comic continues. the wolf comes back and is like "bro i told you to starve it not kill it. youre under arrest. this is a sting operation"

Darkhalo4321

XD

SpazztastiKim

-wheeze-

Darkhalo4321

Elliot gets hauled off to DREAM JAIL

Mandi is denied visitation rights

Becky becomes his laywer

RebelVampire

then elliot becomes a dream defense attorney and has to prove his own innocence

becky would be a scary lawyer

like

i could just see her taking the floor and talking for hours

and her client is found innocent just cause the jury wants to go home

Darkhalo4321

She'd probably make a good case though-

Superjustinbros

@Kabocha Even if I did that's still pretty cold lol

Darkhalo4321

Jury: She talked for 5 hours, but... she wasn't wrong innocent!

Wolf thing : damn it!

SpazztastiKim

Ghost Tom: Language...

Darkhalo4321

Elliot: @#$% the establishment! throws a chair

Everyone just has the surprised pikachu face, after that!

SpazztastiKim

HA

Superjustinbros

That face is glorious

RebelVampire

at this point i think were just all drunk and have gone mad with power

SpazztastiKim

lol probably

RebelVampire

im really curious to see what happens at the farm festival tho. mostly just cause maybe nothing bad will happen and theyll just have fun. like go on a nice hay ride

that will not trigger unpleasant memories and not start a fire to the whole festival

SpazztastiKim

hay rides are included tho

Kabocha

Maybe we'll find out that they have a sleep study at the contest

erm

festival

Darkhalo4321

And then after it's been ALL good- and it's all fun and stuff-

Kabocha

why am I thinking contest

Darkhalo4321

THEN

Superjustinbros

Oh god what's happennig here now

Darkhalo4321

then it will go downhill

Kabocha

Yep. It'll be a hot mess. AND FREDDY RETUR--- wrong series

RebelVampire

id really want to see elliot in a sleep study now tho

just imagine the scientists face afterwards

as theyre like wtf are these readings

Superjustinbros

oh boy

Kabocha

"This boy never enters REM sleep!?"

RebelVampire

what is life

Kabocha

"How is he alive?!"

Darkhalo4321

Right?

my question exactly ^^^ lol(edited)

RebelVampire

elliot was the one to have never been alive to begin with. the whole mandy thing is him projecting

Darkhalo4321

it would explain why some scenes have her split off of him?

Kabocha

oh that would be a twist.

Two souls one body?

Darkhalo4321

THAT IS MY JAM

RebelVampire

i had considered that as a realistic possibility. or more that mandy is just an aspect of elliot's soul

SpazztastiKim

-watches with entertained glee-

Darkhalo4321

Oh maybe?

RebelVampire

http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/comics/2704817/ch3-pg4/ off topic but i just noticed that computer has a pear on it and that makes me laugh

Darkhalo4321

Like the NICE version of who El is, and all the snark remained in the actual body

El is just Snark

that's it

TOM HOW CAN YOU

Superjustinbros

Shoutouts to Pear Products

mathtans

Sorry, called to crib. Have we talked about the title yet? With "lode"star? Is that like a metaphor for Elliot's powers, or something else?

RebelVampire

we have not talked about it.

mathtans

(As to explaining about the chosen one thing, the person with night terrors in town wasn't responding properly, so that's how Elliot ended up in town too.)

Darkhalo4321

We havent'

RebelVampire

i assumed it was a play on a lodestone

Darkhalo4321

I don't actually know about the title so much

PROBABLY

What is a lodestone?

RebelVampire

“A lodestone is a naturally magnetized piece of the mineral magnetite. They are naturally occurring magnets, which can attract iron. The property of magnetism was first discovered in antiquity through lodestones.”

Darkhalo4321

Hm

RebelVampire

elliot is the attracter of evil

Darkhalo4321

PROBABLY

el is an unlucky person

Kabocha

MAGNETIC SOUL

SpazztastiKim

poor kid

mathtans

Mandy being part of his soul is interesting. It reminds me, I liked in the first chapter how there were hints of her at times, and eventually it became clear.

Oh yeah, and I loved the Pear Computer, Rebel. Glad you remembered to mention it.

Yeah, I thought it was like lodestone, but being a star, maybe it's good somehow even though there's a burden involved.

RebelVampire

i liked the small hints but at the same time i was confused and wondered if he was communicating telepathically with becky XD

Kabocha

I'm curious to see where this all goes. There's not enough information to really like, get super crazy with fandom yet

mathtans

I did wonder where the thoughts were coming from.

Also, before the end, gotta mention the Becky and Ally ship. Those two can feed off each others' energy, it's sweet.

Darkhalo4321

they can power the entire town with their energy

RebelVampire

i will support the elliot/tom ship

Superjustinbros

Since the CTP is ending in a bit, thanks for the CTR, and thanks for the cool comic as well @SpazztastiKim, it was fun checking it out

mathtans

There you go. Can't ship Tom with his sister, after all.

Darkhalo4321

El == shippable with everyone honestly

mathtans

El is shippable with the wolf?

Darkhalo4321

...

SpazztastiKim

asdfghjkl

Kabocha

...yes

RebelVampire

yes

Darkhalo4321

I MEAN, as Friends?

Kabocha

BFFS

Darkhalo4321

El seems like he needs more FRIENDS

Kabocha

Anyway! Thank you Kim! I look forward to seeing where this comic goes~

Darkhalo4321

and boy and his aggressive wolf friend

mathtans

Wolf's name is probably Lodestar. Got it from a book.

Best with it, Kim!

RebelVampire

COMIC TEA PARTY- THURSDAY BOOK CLUB END!

Sadly, this wraps up this week’s Thursday Book Club chat for now. Thank you so much to everyone for reading and joining us! We want to give a special thank you to SasstastiKim, as well, for making Lodestar. If you liked the comic, make sure to support SasstastiKim’s efforts however you’re able to~!

Read and Comment: http://lodestar.smackjeeves.com/

SasstastiKim’s Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/SpazztastiKim

SasstastiKim’s Twitter: https://twitter.com/SpazztastiKim

[franzis-frantic-thoughts]

Oh another thing that I forgot to mention yesterday, that probably blew a lot of money semi-down-the-drain is the New Website.

They made such a hype about the new website and everyone was looking forward to it because the old one was quite out of date.

Except the new one...

“it’s hard to navigate” would be putting it lightly. The menu for the website is not well structured and not all-encompassing. Some things can only be accessed via the menu (good), others only via the homepage or site notice area at the bottom (why?)

It’s riddled with typos and missing punctuation (screenshot below).

It misgendered Helen, Head of Inclusion, for the longest time (Helen’s page now has all his pronouns listed, but the blurb still only uses she/her).

It is out of date (screenshot below).

It is incomplete (e.g. there is no direct link to the transcripts of all original shows, neither is there a direct, easily accessible link to the transcript feedback form, screenshot below)

And that’s just the things I can think of off the top of my head.

This one was most of the ironic errors because of it being part of the “Quality” section. “We care what we put on name to.” :) You sure do care for Quality, huh?

[ID: A screenshot of the RQ Website, taken some time in February 2022. It’s white on black text and reads “Quality - We are the best at what we do because we don’t settle for less than exceptional” The full stop after this statement is missing, before it continues “We care what we put on [sic] name to.” Following, is “Community - We’re welcoming, inclusive and compassionate but we don’t shy away from making tough decisions to protect our team.” /end ID]

I shouldn’t have to rely on Twitter, which not everyone has, or Patreon, which not everyone has, for updates. Surely, the company website should always be up to date and informative. This is the first point of contact for fans and potential collaborators alike. What kind of impression does it leave with you, when you see something like this?

This screenshot is from the “Our History” section on their About page.

[ID: A screenshot of the RQ Website, taken on October 15th, 2022. It’s white and rust-coloured writing on black in three columns. The first column is dates, the second is show names and “launches” or “ends” and the third column is a little more detailed information. It reads:

“October 2021 - Enthusigasm Launches again! - Launches as a public show after high demand.

TBA 2022 - Rusty Quill Gaming Ends - The podcast concludes after more than 220 core episodes and multiple critical awards ending the first phase of Rusty Quill’s content.

TBA 2022 - New Show in Development Launches - TBA…

TBA 2022 - Chapter & Multiverse Launches - A new TTRPG actual play series focusing on the multiverse city of chapter featuring expanded cast, multiple settings and systems.

TBA 2022 - Trice Forgotten Launches - A new nautical epic celebrating scientists of colour on their ocean adventures/ [sic]

TBA 2022 - Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Launches - A new comedy of errors examining power and its mismanagement during the peak of Ancient Rome.

TBA 2022 - New Show in Development Launches - TBA…” /End ID]

This is the newest update on their “news” blog.

[ID: A screenshot of the RQ Website with rust-coloured and white text on black. It reads “Trice Forgotten sets sail: 2nd August 2022 - Trice Forgotten, a new nautical epic podcast from Rusty Quill, will officially launch on 2nd August 2022″, followed by the meta info: Posted by user hattieq; on July 27, 2022; in News; tagged “news,” and “Trice Forgotten”; and a “leave a comment” button /end ID]

This is a screenshot from the top of the Transcripts page.

[ID: A screenshot from the RQ Website, taken on October 15th, 2022. It’s white and rust coloured text on black, reading: “Transcripts - Rusty Quill Originals - chapter and Multiverse transcripts - Stellar Firma transcripts - The Magnus Archives transcripts - Enthusigasm transcripts - Rusty Quill Gaming transcripts”. There are lines above and below the section to indicate the screenshot didn’t cut off anything. /End ID]

thanks for the updates from Maddie and Twitter! I can’t believe whats going on. The relaunch of Magnus in combination with stopping so many cool ongoing shows is so weird

You are very welcome! I actually revived my Twitter account to be able to check regularly for new posts, either from Maddy or others. There doesn’t seem to have been anything new in a few hours now, even if I personally missed it, I’d have heard about it via one of the multiple discords I’m on.

Yes, RQ has made incredibly strange decisions this past year (or even beyond that) which leave me as a fan - and highest tier Noble - incredibly frustrated.

When they shut the discord down, they said they’d reevaluate six months later. RQO recently “celebrated” its first death day. Personally, I don’t want RQO back. But I would have liked to have that promised reevaluation.

The reason the discord had to be shut down can apparently also be traced back to shit communication between RQ and the team of volunteer and unpaid mods.

When Chapter&Multiverse, Trice Forgotten, and Cry Havoc (Ask Questions Later) were announced in late 2021, they were projected to air within the first half of 2022. Instead, only C&M aired “on time”, Trice has a change in director and was delayed until summer, and Cry Havoc has now been pushed back until 2023. It’s great that they don’t want to burn out their cast and crew, but they’ve also been releasing Enthusigasm episodes twice a week and C&M main campaign and specials in parallel earlier this year. Clearly, someone didn’t think their schedule through properly.

Instead of making sure their new shows are taking off, they instead drag TMA’s corpse out of its grave. I love Magnus as much as the next person, it was an incredible show. Writing, acting, soundscaping… but the way RQ keeps pushing it into the limelight and down our throats to the detriment of their other shows (formerly only RQG and STL, but now even more shockingly also new shows like C&M and Trice), has fostered a real resentment towards TMA in me and others.

When the transcripts were put out, after literal years of delay, they were - and still are - full of errors, inconsistent, or incomplete. There have been no responses to feedback given via the appropriate feedback form, there have been no responses to emails, and there have been little to no corrections made to the transcripts, whether for old shows or new ones. Transcripts are Accessibility tools and should fulfil certain standards. Apart from that, the quality of these transcripts offends me on a professional level. RQ has referred to an agency multiple times in their updates. That agency clearly didn’t work to professional standards and RQ didn’t have any quality assurance process internally either. What an utter waste of (my and other patreons’) money.

Some of the TMA transcripts were apparently taken down this week for maintenance, which was ridiculous timing that made people think it was related to the ARG. Again: shit communication.

They’ve lost so many great people in the last two years: Auto and all the mods, Bryn, Mike, now Maddy. I didn’t listen to RQ podcasts, because they were RQ podcasts. I listened to them, because I enjoyed the content and creators. If the creators leave RQ, I’ll follow them to their next endeavours. Go check out @re-dracula for Karim, Jonny, Beth, Alasdair, Sasha, and Ben; @thekilda for Alasdair, Ben and Sasha; @faustiannonsense for Alasdair, Ben, Tim, and Jonny. I hear Mike is in Tiny Terrors. Sasha and Jonny create TTRPGs. Jonny just published his second book. Also check out everyone’s streams (I particularly enjoy Bryn and Auto struggling to solve puzzles together) and individual patreons and kofis.

Sorry this reply turned into a rant. I’m just fed up at the moment. I’ll go to bed and probably feel better in the morning.

[asksciencesquad]

WELP guess I should finally post this damn thing. I’ve picked at it wayyyy more than I need to and I just have to accept that it’s never going to be perfect.

I referenced this event like 500 years ago in a previous ask if anyone even remembers but decided it was too ambitious for a whole comic, then realized it would be a good excuse to write again. Sorry if you guys were expecting something visual, but it just be like that sometimes. I haven’t done any creative writing in a while (let alone post it on the internet) so it’s probably not my best  the plot structure is weird, the narrative distance is wildly inconsistent, there’s probably way too much dialogue but it’s something and it’s actually done, so here we are.

(s/o to those of my friends who were able to read this and give me feedback, you’re amazing and I love u)

Summary: The squad visits the Barrier to do some research for an ongoing study. Things quickly go off the rails.

New Home was easily the busiest place in the entire Underground. Monsters of all shapes and sizes lived in the capital, bustling about its streets almost every hour of the day. Most of the inhabitants paid little mind to the others around them, too focused on their own business to pay attention to anyone else.

The three monsters hurrying through the crowds drew a few stares, however.

“G, could you slow down a little bit??” Sans called to the colleague rushing ahead of him. A few feet behind him, Alphys struggled to keep up. She adjusted the backpack slung over her shoulders, muttering something about a laptop.

Gaster stopped and waited for the other two to catch up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were falling behind.” He set down the case he was carrying. He hoped the delicate scientific instruments inside hadn’t been jostled too much from his running. Normally he would’ve been a lot more careful with them, but he and his friends were behind schedule.

Sans set his case down as well, flexing his fingers a few times to unstiffen them. “The streets are so packed. They really couldn’t have sent us at a less busy time of the day?”

Gaster shrugged a little. “I’m sure they just wanted to make things harder for us. At least we’re almost there.” He turned to look at the imposing structure of the castle, visible even from several blocks away. The stone walls rose higher than most of the other buildings, making it discernible from far outside the city. It was the same monotonous gray as the other buildings around it and in the rest of New Home. The only significant difference was that the tops of the castle’s tallest towers had been painted blue – a bright spot of color in a sea of gray.

Neither he nor his friends had ever been inside. While the King could often be found wandering the streets and making small talk with his subjects, the castle was largely closed off to ordinary citizens. Gaster, at least, was excited to see it. The three of them were being sent to go to the Barrier, collecting measurements for an ongoing study. Gaster was interested to see it in person; maybe it was twisted to look forward to seeing the very thing that trapped him and his fellow monsters underground, but his curiosity got the better of him.

The tall skeleton looked back at his companions. “Should we keep going?”

Sans picked up his case again; the lizard monster next to him squinted at Gaster. “Just remember not to leave us behind again. Not everyone has a three-foot stride like you do,” she said.

“Oh, my strides are not three feet long,” Gaster responded. He smirked. “Maybe if you two weren’t so short, you could keep up.”

“H-hey!” Alphys protested. “We’re both slightly below average. You’re the one who’s ridiculously tall!”

“… Yeah, I guess that’s true.” At six and a half feet, he certainly towered over a good portion of the monster population.

By now they were only a few blocks from the castle. A flight of stairs led up to the entrance where several Royal Guards were stationed, watching closely for any signs of trouble. The sight was a little intimidating, even to the most innocent civilians.

“So…” Sans scanned the line of guards. “How does this work, exactly? Do you go up to them and say, ‘Hey, we’re the guys here to look at the Barrier, please let us in’? Or is the King himself maybe gonna bring us there?” Sans gave Alphys a playful nudge. Her normally yellow scales reddened.

Gaster rolled his eyes. “What we need to do is show them the official letter that was sent to the lab asking for someone to help collect the data. The guards and the King should know we’re coming.”

“Letter, huh? Didja get that when you volunteered all three of us to do this without asking me and Alphys first?”

“Are you still upset about that?” Gaster replied. “Okay, I know I probably should have asked, but if I hadn’t spoken up someone else would have volunteered. I figured all three of us could use a few more brownie points after the last… incident.”

There was an awkward pause between all three of them. A couple weeks ago, a power transformer they had been working on sparked violently, starting a small fire in their lab. No one got hurt, and the damage was minor, but nobody at the facility had been very happy with them. Gaster continued. “This won’t even take that long – a couple hours, at most. Besides, have either of you ever seen the Barrier?” He glanced back at his colleagues. They both shook their heads. “Neither have I. It’ll be interesting.”

They were almost at the stairs leading up to the castle’s main entrance. If the guards noticed them, they didn’t show any sign of it, remaining as stoic as ever. The scientists paused at the bottom of the steps, and Gaster fished the printed document from his pocket. He unfolded it and looked it over, his confidence wavering. He could usually keep his head in these kinds of situations, but the fact that this task involved royal affairs made him apprehensive. The stares of the ever-watching guards weren’t helping, either.

“Uh… do either of you want to ask them about this?” he asked hopefully, looking back at his friends.

“Nah, I’m good,” Sans answered.

Alphys shook her head. “You got us into this, you should do it.”

“What are you muttering about down there?” a gruff voice said behind them.

Gaster turned quickly to see who had addressed them. A large dragon-monster guard stood in front of the rest of the castle’s lineup, giving them a hard look.

“Oh, uh, nothing!” Gaster answered hastily. “We’re just, uh…” He climbed the steps up to the guard, Sans and Alphys following behind. He showed the letter to the dragon. “Actually, we’re here to look at the Barrier. I’m sure King Asgore told you we’d be coming, right?”

The guard grabbed the paper and looked it over. “Oh yeah, I remember hearing about this.” He stuffed the letter in his own pocket. “Don’t suppose you three have some kinda ID, do you?”

Gaster and Alphys produced their ID cards from the lab, at which the guard gave a nod of approval. Sans had to dig around in his pocket, but finally found his card and held it up for the guard to see. It was far more beat up than the other two, and had a strange stain on one corner. After a couple seconds, the guard nodded, albeit hesitantly.

He turned to the lineup of other guards. “Artan, take these guys up to the Barrier,” he said, pointing at a lion monster.

“Yes, sir. Follow me,” the guard said with a look at the scientists. They gathered up their gear and followed him to the doors. The guard let them enter before stepping into the castle himself. The entrance was large, as expected. The walls were made of gray stone, much smoother and polished than the exterior. A large and ornate rug covered most of the floor. The weak light of the Underground trickled through several small windows placed high above them, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. Besides a couple chairs pushed up against the walls, the area was otherwise rather empty – almost uncomfortably so.

Artan led them down a side hallway. The scientists followed closely behind in silence. After a moment, he peered back at them. “So… all three of you are scientists?” he asked.

“Yup,” Sans said, nodding. “We’re all huge nerds.”

“Really? You guys don’t look like it.”

“Like scientists?” Gaster raised a brow. “What are we supposed to look like?”

The guard thought. “I dunno. Lab coats, older, kinda stuffy…” He looked directly at Gaster. “I kinda thought you were a bodyguard or something at first.”

“What? Why?”

Artan looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “Uh… mostly ‘cause of the cracks, honestly.”

Of course. Gaster reached up to touch the small crack running over his right brow. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had made an assumption like that, but it never failed to bother him. “Yeah, uh… those are just from an old accident,” he said. “Trust me, I’m definitely not cut out for the Royal Guard or anything.”

“No kidding,” Sans said, snorting. “Can you even imagine? You’d probably get slaughtered on your first day.”

“Heh, yeah, probably.” He actually found the idea pretty unsettling, but he wouldn’t say anything with an actual guard around.

Artan shrugged. “Well, I guess you’d know better than me.”

***

The rest of the trip was quiet. When words were exchanged, they were usually just one or two-word sentences. Evidently the awkward conversation earlier had set the mood for everyone.

Artan led them onto a couple elevators and through several winding, gray hallways. Soon, the group entered a new hallway that was vastly different from the others. Polished tiles covered the floor, and one wall was covered in detailed murals outlining the history of monsterkind. On the opposite wall were several stained-glass windows. Yellow light filtered through them, casting the hall in a warm glow.

Sans whistled. “Impressive. This must be an important hall.”

“We’re close to the throne room,” Artan explained. “And just beyond that is the Barrier.” He didn’t seem as awed by the corridor as the three visitors. Gaster figured he’d seen it dozens of times before.

Another gray passageway greeted them when they exited the hall, which then led to the throne room. It was even brighter than the golden hallway. King Asgore’s throne sat in the center, surrounded by small yellow flowers. Gaster looked at the flowers at his feet, getting a sinking feeling in his soul. He knew they had come from the surface. That fact might have been exciting in any other context, but every monster in the Underground knew why they were growing here.

The guard led them down a passageway that led to where the Barrier was. At first it steadily got darker, but at some point their surroundings grew lighter again. Gaster’s eyes widened as they entered the Barrier room. It took up a large portion of the back wall, pulsing with white light. The whole area was filled with a strong and alien energy that could only be human magic.

“Feels weird, right?” the guard asked. He stayed near the doorway as the other three walked closer to the Barrier. “There aren’t many things I’m afraid of, but this place kinda gives me the creeps.”

Reading about the Barrier’s effects was one thing, but actually feeling it was entirely different; being this close to such a powerful magical force was indeed a little unsettling. Gaster felt it permeate through his bones, stronger than he could ever hope his own magic could be. It was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

He pushed his discomfort to the back of his mind. Pleasant or not, they had work to do. “Well, we might as well get started,” he said. Kneeling down, he opened his case and looked over the various science instruments, trying to decide which one to set up first.

“And I’ll boot up the laptop,” Alphys offered, taking off her backpack and unzipping it. In almost a whisper she added, “The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave.” Gaster was a little surprised that Alphys wasn’t more enthusiastic - she was usually excited about anything related to humans. She must’ve found the Barrier’s magic particularly uncomfortable.

As they all busied themselves with their setup, Artan stood by the door in silence. After a moment, he took a few more steps into the room. “Do the three of you need anything else? Cuz if you don’t, then I’ll just… leave…” He jerked his thumb at the door awkwardly.

Gaster looked up from the device he was holding. “I think we’re fine. After we take our measurements, we’re heading back to the lab right away.”

“Alright, well, if you do need something there’s, you know… plenty of guards in this place to ask.”

Gaster nodded in acknowledgement. The guard turned back to the entrance and left them to work. Once his footsteps faded away, Alphys looked up from her keyboard. “Huh, he sounded uncomfortable,” she observed.

“No kidding,” Gaster said. “Can’t blame him – the Barrier can do weird things to monsters.”

Alphys snapped her head up in alarm. “What?? L-like what?? Why didn’t you say anything to us??”

Gaster took his eyes off his hands to look over at her. “Did you not read the documents I gave you? Both of you?” During his informal research on the Barrier, he’d been giving anything particularly important to Sans and Alphys. He'd hoped that it would help them all be well-prepared for the excursion, but apparently all of that effort might have gone to waste. He glanced at Sans as well, giving him a questioning look.

“Eh, I read a couple of ‘em,” Sans said, unconcerned. “Don’t remember any warnings about the Barrier.”

“I skimmed most of them, but… i-it’s not anything bad, is it?” Alphys stammered.

“No, no, we’ll be fine,” Gaster reassured her. “It’s just that there’s a lot of powerful and concentrated magic here, and not everyone can handle it. A lot of monsters have reported feeling… uneasy around the Barrier.” He set down the instrument he’d been holding and started looking over another. “The other effects include things like headaches, anxiety, nausea… nothing serious or long-lasting.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Sans said with mild interest. He’d conjured up a bone and was moving it around aimlessly with his magic.

“Hey, cut that out!” Gaster snatched it out of the air. “The Barrier is really sensitive to any contact with other magic – which you’d know if you’d read anything.” He dropped the bone to the ground, where it disintegrated on impact. “If we hit it with our magic, it’ll react and affect all our work. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have to go back to the lab without any usable data.”

“Alright, alright, I gotcha,” Sans said. “Geez, you’re such a hardass sometimes.”

“Only when it really matters. What we’re doing today is important.”

Sans still seemed as aloof as ever. “Okay, so… what exactly is all this for? I know the data goes to the Royal Scientist and their team, but what do they do with it?”

Gaster thought back to all the material he’d read about the Barrier study. “I’m… not sure what exactly they look for. I just know the observations started decades ago with one of the previous Royal Scientists. Obviously, the hope is that we can use the information to somehow bring down the Barrier.”

“Why even bother? The easiest thing to do would be to just wait ‘til one more unlucky kid falls down here. Doesn’t take a bunch of engineers to realize that.”

Gaster wished the other skeleton would take this a little more seriously. “Because,” he began, “For one thing, the study began a long time ago when we had fewer human souls. For another, there’s no way to be sure when another human will even come down here. It’s already been… what, 40 or 50 years since the last one?” Gaster looked at the Barrier. “If the human kids living near Mt. Ebott have finally learned and started avoiding it, who knows how long we have to wait. We might as well be proactive about it.”

“Yeah, I guess. Still, there’s always gonna be kids who ignore warnings and do stupid things. Like climb up a cursed mountain.”

Sans wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, it sounded better to try and do something in the meantime rather than sit around waiting – hoping - for the next human to fall down. If scrutinizing the Barrier could lead to their freedom sooner, that’s what Gaster would do.

“Well, either way we still have to do what we were, ahem, ‘assigned,’” Alphys said, with a glance at Gaster. “Where should we start?”

“Probably should start with overall magic levels,” Sans suggested. “We can work on the more complex stuff later.”

Gaster nodded. “Sounds fine to me.” He looked over the open carrying cases, grabbing the correct instrument for reading magic levels. He turned it on and fiddled with some of the settings.

Alphys looked back to her laptop, while Gaster and Sans went over to their other equipment. Gaster immersed himself in his work, calibrating the instruments and discussing the setup with the other two monsters. It actually wasn’t very complicated, but he figured it was best to be extra meticulous considering who the data would be going to.

“HEY!” an unfamiliar voice suddenly shouted, catching him completely off-guard. Looking up, he saw a blue fish-monster standing in the doorway. She held a spear of cyan magic and gave them a piercing look. “What’re you three doing here??” she demanded, glowering at each of the three monsters.

None of them spoke.

She jabbed her spear in their direction threateningly. “Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Or do I have to force you to talk?”

“Wow, okay, take it easy!” Gaster held up his hands . “Why do you need to know? Who even are you?”

“I’m Undyne, and I’m part of the king’s Royal Guard.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now who the hell are you punks?”

“We’re scientists, we’re just here to research the Barrier,” Gaster explained. “All we’re doing is taking some measurements. The head guard even has an official letter that says what we’re doing, go ask him about it.”

“And leave you three all alone again? Yeah, right.” Undyne looked the three monsters up and down. “Why should I even believe you guys are scientists? You don’t have lab coats or anything.”

Sans cocked a brow. “We, uh, don’t really wear lab coats outside the lab. This is fieldwork.”

“Why should we believe you’re a guard? You definitely don’t look like one,” Gaster argued, pointing at her tank top and pants.

“Well, technically I’m off-duty today. But justice never rests! And I’m not gonna just stand by when something looks funny to me!” Undyne tightened the grip on her spear, making sparks of energy fly off. “I’m one of King Asgore’s students, so if you were supposed to be here, he would have told me about it.”

“M-maybe he just forgot to tell you?” Alphys offered. “I mean, he m-must be pretty busy-“

“Asgore wouldn’t forget to tell me anything!” Undyne snapped. “Now, you all need to come with me or else you’ll be in big trouble.”

Gaster frowned. He had a hard time believing this monster was a guard, let alone a student of Asgore’s. "Alright, this is ridiculous,” he said. “I’m going to go find a real guard to deal with you.” He was only able to take a few steps before several blue spears erupted in front of him. He stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor.

“I didn’t say you could move!” Undyne barked. “You aren’t going anywhere!”

Gaster’s soul pounded as he looked up from the spears that had almost impaled him. “Can you stop with the arrows already??” he asked indignantly.

“Not until you start listening to me!”

Gaster’s patience was wearing thin. “You aren’t listening to us! I’m trying to tell you what we’re doing here! We’re not up to anything!”

“I’m not taking that chance!” Undyne hurled her spear at the other three monsters. They ducked, letting the attack sail right over their heads. Instead, it collided with the Barrier at the back of the cavern. Waves of cyan magic rippled through it as it absorbed the spear’s energy.

Gaster, Alphys and Sans could only stare helplessly. They hadn’t even gotten a single measurement, and now anything they did take would be unusable. The fish-monster had ruined their entire trip.

“Consider that a warning shot,” she said. “I don’t usually give those, so be thankful for that.”

Gaster turned back to the fish-monster, pointing at the Barrier. “Thankful? Do you have any idea what you just did?! Your magic affected the whole Barrier! Now we can’t even do what we came here for!”

“Then I’ve done my job. Now, if you still don’t come with me, I’ll-“

There was a loud ‘PING!’. Undyne’s soul lit up with blue light, and she was jerked a few feet in the air. She flailed her limbs as her remaining arrows dissipated. Below her, Sans kept firm control over her soul through her struggling.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL??” she snarled down at him.

“Hey, don’t take it personally. I think your desire to protect the kingdom is uplifting, but you’re being kind of a problem right now.” He turned to Alphys. “I can hold her while you and G go find an actual guard to help us with this.” The fish-monster kept thrashing and twisting her body, trying in vain to break free of the blue magic. “… Just, uh, try to be quick about it.”

Alphys scurried to Gaster's side and they began hurrying towards the exit. She looked up at him once they were out of earshot. “A-are you okay??” she fretted. “You could’ve been killed!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he told her. He was still rattled, but at least he was in one piece. “We really need to find someone before-“

They heard a loud bellow behind them. Gaster looked back right as Undyne threw a spear down at Sans. Startled, he jumped sideways out of its direct path, but it still managed to graze his arm. He yelled out in pain, and Undyne fell to the ground as he lost his hold on her soul.

“SANS!” Gaster and Alphys both exclaimed, running back over to his side. Undyne took the opportunity to scramble back to her feet as they tended to their friend.

“Maybe now you’ll follow my orders,” she growled, conjuring up another spear. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

Gaster bristled, whipping around to face her. “What the fuck is your problem?!” he shouted, gesturing at the other skeleton. “Sans wasn’t even attacking you! You had no reason to do that!”

Undyne clutched her spear with both hands, adopting a battle stance. “Threatening a guard is a serious offense!” she retorted. “And using soul magic counts! You’re all gonna be in deep shit when I’m done with you!”

As they both glared at each other, something inside Gaster finally snapped. He’d had more than enough of this monster, and he wasn’t going to keep waiting around for someone else to come and help. “Alright, that is it.” He stepped towards her. “You threatened us, you ruined our work, and now you’re attacking us! I am done with you!”

Before Undyne could make another move, he gathered up his own magic and started summoning an attack. Two large, beastly skulls quickly materialized on either side of him. They didn’t look like the skull of any existing creature - their bottom jaws were split down the middle and filled with long teeth, and they were adorned with small spikes. White rings of light glowed from their orbits, eyeing their target. Undyne gaped in disbelief.

Gaster stared her down, eye sockets completely black. “Now,” he said icily. “Are you going to cut it out, or do you want to try attacking us again? Because if you do…”

The skulls opened their jaws, magic gathering in their mouths.

“…You are REALLY not going to like what happens next.”

Undyne didn't say anything. She obviously had fighting experience, but by the look on her face, she’d never encountered magic like this. Gaster hoped it would be intimidating enough to make her stop assailing them.

After a moment, she snapped out of her stupor, her face hardening with resolve. “I am not backing down,” she said, looking Gaster in the eye. “I’m staying right here.”

He hadn’t been expecting that response. He’d been certain she would give up or run - everyone else did when they first saw his Blasters. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to make a Plan B.

Shit. Shit shit shit, this was a stupid idea! What had he been thinking? What was he supposed to do now?? He felt his control on the Blasters slipping, riling them up even more. He refocused, reining them back in before they could fire at the fish-monster. Somehow, he managed to keep his outward expression from reflecting his inner state. The best he could do was stall until he either thought of something else or someone finally showed up. “…Well, I’m not backing down either,” he finally said. “Not until you agree to quit it.”

“Well, there’s no way in hell I’m doing that!”

“Then I guess we’ve reached a stalemate.”

There was a pause. Gaster wondered if she was reconsidering what she was doing. Suddenly, Undyne jumped aside in an attempt to surprise him. Just as quickly, one of the magical skulls fired off a small blast of magic that hit a couple feet in front of her. Not close or powerful enough to hurt her, but enough to stop her in her tracks.

She glared again at the skeleton, and he returned the look. “Consider that a warning shot,” he said. She growled in frustration.

Gaster wasn’t entirely sure how much of that last shot was him and how much was the Blaster’s doing. His panic grew. What was he supposed to do if she did that again? He didn’t actually want to hurt her. He didn’t want any of this. He prayed that things wouldn’t escalate further.

They continued their staredown. Nobody moved or said a word. Gaster occasionally heard shuffling noises from the two monsters behind him, but it was otherwise quiet. After a few long minutes, Gaster broke the silence. “Alphys, how’s Sans doing?” he asked, without turning back to look at her. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of Undyne.

“Uh, he’s… alright, I think. I-it’s not too bad,” the lizard monster replied.

“’M okay,” Sans groaned unconvincingly.

“See? Your friend is fine,” Undyne said. “So how about you put your freaky skull things away and-“

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” The blasters opened their jaws a bit more. His desire to protect his friends outweighed his reluctance to use his attack. He wasn’t going to give her any leeway.

She scowled, tightening the grip on her spear. “You can’t keep this up forever. You’ll exhaust your magic sooner or later.”

“I don’t need to last forever - I just need to outlast you. Unless you just want to give up right now?”  Gaster knew there was no way he had more stamina than her, but she didn’t know that. As long as he acted confident, she might actually believe him.

She didn’t seem to be fazed. “No way am I going to submit to some punk bag of bones like you. I’m not afraid of you or your weird attack!” One of the Blasters snapped at her; Undyne instinctively took half a step back.

“If you say so,” Gaster replied, shrugging. He couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Undyne glared harder at him. “God, you are such an asshole.”

He scoffed. “I’m an asshole? You attacked us first! You’re the one who’s playing vigilante here!”

“I’m not a vigilante! I told you I’m a Royal Guard!”

“A real Royal Guard would be protecting citizens, not terrorizing them!”

“Terrorizing??” Undyne snarled. “You have a LOT of nerve accusing me-“

“What on Earth is going on over here?” a low voice interrupted from the hallway. Gaster watched as King Asgore himself stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the top of the door. His eyes widened when he saw the scene before him. “Oh, my.”

“Y-your majesty!” Gaster stammered, his concentration breaking. The Blasters grumbled a little before dissipating in a cloud of purple magic. The skeleton had never felt more relieved. “Thank god you’re here!” He pointed at Undyne. “I don’t know who this thug thinks she is, but-“

“These three punks are here without permission!” Undyne interjected. “The short guy used magic on me, and then beanpole here threatened me with his crazy skull creatures-“

“You attacked us! You hit Sans with your spear!”

“You guys weren’t LISTENING to me-“

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down!” Asgore held up a large hand to silence both of them. He walked over to Undyne. “Is this why I didn’t find you in the garden for your training session?”

Gaster froze. Training session?

“Well, yeah!” she replied. “I had to keep an eye on them! I didn’t know whether they were supposed to be here or not!”

Gaster’s relief at the king’s arrival quickly turned to dread. Undyne really was one of Asgore's students. If that was the case, there was no way he’d be getting out of this situation unscathed.

Asgore looked over at the three scientists. “And what are you doing here, exactly?”

Gaster started as the king addressed them. “Oh, uh, we were just… collecting data on the Barrier - I mean, at least we were going to. But then this fish-monster came in and interrupted us.”

“Oh, yes. You must be the ones from the Barrier study.”

“Wait, what??” Undyne asked incredulously. “You knew they were coming? Why didn’t I hear about this??”

“I must have forgotten to mention it,” Asgore said. “…Even so, you are not on duty today. All you came here for was to meet with me, not take care of suspected criminals. You should have brought it up to another guard, at the very least.” He glanced back at the doorway. “And I would have expected you to stay within the throne room while these three were working.”

Undyne opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again without a word. Asgore turned back to the scientists. “Now, what happened that led to the, ah… confrontation that I saw?” he asked, looking at Gaster again.

“Uh…” He grew cold. How could he ever explain pulling his attack out on one of the king’s students? “I… uh, I-I mean, we - we were just… Undyne was going to - I mean, I-I would never actually-“

“Gaster only used his attack after she hit me,” Sans interjected.

Both monsters looked over at the skeleton. “We were just setting up when she kinda… barged in here and demanded we come with her. We all tried to explain ourselves but she wouldn’t listen, and she started throwin’ spears at us.” He glanced over at Undyne, who only glared back. “I tried to restrain her with my magic first, but then she got me with one of her spears. G used his magic before she could attack us again.” Alphys stayed quiet, but backed Sans up with a lot of nodding, avoiding looking directly at Asgore.

“Hey, you left out the part where your friend fired at me,” Undyne contended.

Gaster faltered. “W-well, yeah - but I missed you by like, two feet!” he countered. “You gave us a warning shot first, so I figured I’d return the favor.”

Asgore gave him a questioning look. “You fired your attack at her?”

“I… did… but that was after she tried to attack us first, and after she hurt Sans. I didn’t actually want to hurt her, but I – I didn’t know how else to get her to stop,” he answered. It was a terrible explanation, he realized. He was doomed.

“I see,” Asgore said. “You are aware that attacking a Royal Guard is punishable by law, aren’t you?”

“Of course, but…”

Once again, Sans jumped in. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Gaster – all of us – were just trying to defend ourselves. We had no idea if she was actually a guard or just some random monster that was trying to kill us.”

Asgore’s expression became thoughtful. “Hmm… that is a fair point.” He turned to Undyne. “Did you show these three any proof you were a Royal Guard? Your badge, perhaps?”

Undyne looked away. “Well, no. I don’t have it with me.”

“Did you ask anyone else about them before you came in here?”

“Uhhhhh… no. I thought I could deal with them by myself.” Her ear-fins drooped slightly.

Asgore sighed. “Undyne, please wait for me out in the gold hall. We’ll talk more when I’m done here.”

“Yes, Asgore.” She shuffled out of the room.

Asgore watched until she was gone before turning back to the three monsters before him. He’d barely opened his mouth before Gaster decided to speak first.

“King Asgore, before you decide anything, I just want to remind you that these two didn’t do anything,” he sputtered, gesturing at his companions. “I was the one who escalated things!”

“What? No, you weren’t,” Sans interrupted. “She attacked us first, G, don’t take the fall for this.”

“I fired at her! A Royal Guard!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Asgore said. “Let’s all calm back down.”

Gaster couldn’t relax very much, but fell quiet. He noticed Sans grimace a bit, adjusting his grip on his arm. Alphys took a step towards him. “Sans? A-are you okay?”

Sans hesitated. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just hurts a little.” Gaster couldn’t help but roll his eyes; Sans could be bleeding out on the floor and he would still insist he was fine.

Asgore looked at Sans with concern. “I suppose we should do something about your arm. I can heal it, if you’d like me to.”

“… Really?”

“Of course,” he said. “You did get injured by one of my students, after all. I think I should take partial responsibility.”

Sans looked down at his arm uncertainly. “Well, sure, if you really wanna.” He walked up to the king, carefully taking his hand off the wound. The boss monster held a large paw over it, glowing softly with green magic. After a few seconds, Sans was fully healed.

Asgore took a step back. “Is that better?”

Sans relaxed. “Yeah, a lot better. Thanks.” He rubbed the place where the injury used to be. “You, uh, really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Oh, it’s hardly any trouble.” Asgore was quiet for a moment, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “You know, I should’ve remembered to tell Undyne about you all coming. She may be a guard, and has lots of potential, but she’s still fairly new. She also tends to be … rash in situations like this. I can’t blame you too much for trying to defend yourselves. How about we just put this all behind us and move on?”

Gaster stared at the boss monster. “But…Undyne is a guard. And one of your students! I almost hurt her! Aren’t you mad about that?”

Asgore chuckled a little. “I certainly could be. But believe me, it would take more than one attack to take Undyne down. You didn’t even want to hurt her in the first place, right?”

Gaster could hardly process what was happening. The king was completely serious. “In any case,” the boss monster continued. “I hope she didn’t derail your work too much.”

“Well…” Gaster rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, Undyne kind of wrecked everything. We were supposed to observe the Barrier under normal circumstances, but one of her spears ended up hitting it. It’s really sensitive to contact with magic, so… now it’s not normal. We’d have to wait until it goes back to its regular state.”

“Oh.” Asgore furrowed his brow. “And how long will that take?”

Gaster could only shrug. “A few days, at least – probably longer. It depends on how powerful her magic was.” More potent magic was known to affect the Barrier for weeks. Undyne’s spears didn’t look like a particularly strong attack individually, but there was no way of knowing exactly how powerful it was. An uncontrolled variable like that would make things much more complicated if they tried to take any measurements now.

The king sighed. “Undyne…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The fish-monster was definitely giving him a run for his money. “There isn’t anything you’d be able to do here?”

“’Fraid not,” Sans said. “Everything we were going to do involved the Barrier.”

“I see.” Asgore looked over at the magical construct that trapped his people underground. “I’m really sorry about this whole mess; I should have remembered to tell Undyne.” He turned back to the scientists. “So, what are you going to do now?”

Gaster shrugged again. “Well, I guess we go back to the lab and tell them that the Barrier got disrupted before we could do anything. Someone else will have to come back here later to get measurements.”

“In that case, I can have a message sent to your lab explaining what happened, if that would help. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault.”

The skeleton blinked. He looked at Sans and Alphys, who looked as surprised as he was. He hadn’t expected Asgore to let any of them off the hook, let alone get involved with their employers. “Uh, yeah, s-sure… if you really want to.”

“Well, of course. It’s the least I can do to make up for all this. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Gaster felt guilty about how much the king was doing for them already. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “You’ve helped a lot already.”

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I’ll leave you to pack up all your things. You all take care, now. And you two…” He looked at the skeletons. “Just be careful with your magic.”

Sans shrugged. “Personally, I don’t think you have much to worry about. But yeah, we can do that.”

Satisfied, Asgore finally left the room. After a moment of shocked silence, Alphys laughed nervously. “Well, that was… something.”

“It really was,” Gaster agreed distantly, not taking his eyes off the exit.

Sans looked at him suspiciously. “You don’t feel guilty about any of this, do you? ‘Cause you really don’t need to.”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?” Gaster started walking back over to their equipment. “I don’t get why Asgore would do anything for us after all this.”

“I think he’s just l-like that,” Alphys said. “He likes helping where he can.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Gaster agreed. “I guess I also feel… embarrassed, or something?” He sighed. “I should’ve controlled my emotions better. I really don’t like anyone to see that side of me.”

“Well, that side of you saved our butts today, so I’m not complainin’,” Sans said as he followed the other skeleton.

“Hey, you argued us out of getting in trouble.I would’ve been done for if you hadn’t come along.”

“Well, you also tried to take the blame for everything,” Alphys chimed in. “Which was really dumb, by the way.”

“I didn’t want anything to happen to you guys! We’re only here today because of me.”

“G.” Sans adopted a more serious tone. “Literally no one could have guessed this would happen. None of this was your fault.”

“Don’t forget that Sans used his magic, too,” Alphys pointed out. “And, uh, maybe the two of us could have done more to de-escalate things… or something.”

Sans nodded. “Either way, Undyne was the one who started it all. As far as I’m concerned, she can take most of the blame.” He put the last item into his case and closed it. “Look, let’s just get back to the lab, deal with not having any data, and forget about this whole day.”

“I’m good with that,” Alphys said.

“Fine with me.” Gaster was more than happy to leave and never have to deal with the Barrier – or Undyne – ever again.

***

None of them spoke as they left the Barrier room. Whether they got in trouble over it or not, they weren’t excited to have to go back to work with nothing, and the impending disappointment hung over them like a storm cloud. They proceeded down the hallway to the throne room, the light gradually getting stronger. The throne room greeted them with its full brightness and garden, but they didn’t stay around to appreciate their surroundings.

At this point the silence had become unbearable. “What do you think will happen to Undyne?” Alphys finally asked, stopping before they entered the next hall.

“Who knows,” Gaster said. “Asgore said she still had things to work on. If that’s true, then maybe she shouldn’t even be a guard.”

“I-I don’t know… maybe she should get a second chance. Like Asgore said, she just n-needs to work on a few things,” Alphys said.

Both Gaster and Sans stopped and looked back at her. She looked away quickly. “I-I mean, what happened wasn’t okay, but, uh, she… she has all the good qualities of a guard, too!”

Sans cocked a brow. “Alphys, she hit me. That’s kind of a big deal.”

“N-no, that wasn’t good, b-but I just…” She trailed off, blushing.

For a moment, the skeletons stared at her. Then Sans began to snicker. “Alphys, do you like her or something?” he asked.

“W-w-what?? No! Don’t be ridiculous! That’s- you don’t-“ Alphys stumbled over her words again, stepping back. “W-we don’t even know her!”

“Dang, Alphys, falling for Asgore and his apprentice. What, does she remind you of an anime warrior princess?”

“Shut up!” Alphys hissed, face reddening even more.

Gaster rolled his eyes. “Knock it off, Sans. I don’t think we’re really in the mood for this.”

The other skeleton chuckled. “Sorry, Al. It’s just… she doesn’t seem like the type you’d be into. But hey, I won’t judge.”

Alphys grumbled. “Can we just forget about it? I doubt they’d ever send us back here, s-so… it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.”

“And I, for one, am grateful for that,” Gaster muttered. The mere thought of ever having to deal with Undyne again aggravated him. They left the throne room and garden behind, stepping into the so-called Golden Hallway. Several smaller hallways branched off of it on one side. Gaster scanned the wall opposite the windows, trying to remember which passage they’d come from. His eyes drifted up to the mural painted on the wall above the pillars. He hadn’t gotten a good look on the way to the Barrier, but now he noticed some of the more grisly scenes. Among the depictions of the monsters’ achievements and portraits of notable individuals, there were many images of the war with the humans long ago – some of which were surprisingly graphic. It was a jarring contrast to the serenity of the rest of the hall.

“Um… I think we c-came from the fourth one down,” Alphys said, averting her gaze. “The one under the part of the mural with… a bunch of humans stabbing a monster.”

“Pretty gross, huh?” another voice said.

Gaster snapped his head in the direction the voice had come from. Undyne emerged from behind one of the pillars of the hall, flashing a toothy grin at the small group.

Apparently the universe just hated the skeleton today. “Shouldn’t you be with Asgore by now?” he asked her flatly.

Undyne leaned against the pillar, crossing her arms. “Normally, yeah. He said he had to send something to your bosses or whatever first and told me to keep waiting here.” She looked at the three of them in turn. “So, you guys are leaving?”

“Well, yeah,” Sans replied. “We can’t really do anything with the Barrier right now.”

Undyne grumbled in annoyance. “Look, I’m sorry, I know I fucked up. But can you really blame me for assuming you were up to something when no one ever told me about you guys?” She looked directly at Gaster. “And it’s not like you’re entirely blameless, either.”

Any lingering guilt he had been feeling instantly evaporated. “Hey, you started it!” he contended. “We tried to reason with you, and you started throwing magic attacks at us. Did you expect us to just take it?” Undyne didn’t respond, so he went on. “Clearly, you don’t have the right temperament for a Royal Guard. I’d be surprised if Asgore didn’t fire you over this.”

The fish monster snorted. “Fire me? As if. I’ve known Asgore since I was a kid. It’ll take more than one little misunderstanding to get me kicked out of the Guard.”

“Little?” Gaster echoed. “You hit Sans, you ruined our observations, everyone at work will be pissed at us because we have no data… ‘little’ is an understatement!”

“Okay, fine, it wasn’t just a little misunderstanding. I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?”

“You could leave us alone, for starters. The king can take care of the rest.”

Gaster felt a nudge and noticed Sans was now standing next to him. “G, come on, let’s just go. It’s not worth dealing with her.”

Gaster gave Undyne one last look before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” He turned back to the passage that they’d been heading to. “Well, if you’re done with your half-assed apology, we’ll be going on our way.”

“Woah, hey, not so fast!” Undyne rushed forward, stopping right in front of him. “Okay, look, we got off on the wrong foot there. I was actually thinking maybe we could… talk a little?”

Gaster glared down at her. “Forget it. I think you’ve interacted with us enough for-“

“I don’t wanna talk with all you punks,” Undyne interrupted. “Just you, tall guy.”

He raised a brow. “You can’t be serious.”

“Look, just hear me out,” said the fish-monster. “If you don’t like what I say, then you and your pals can leave and I’ll never bother you again, I swear.”

Gaster peered back at the other two monsters. Sans shrugged hesitantly and Alphys looked away, but neither objected to letting him and Undyne talk. The skeleton turned back to her. “Fine. Tell me what you want to – but make it quick.” He set down his case of equipment and folded his arms.

Undyne grinned in satisfaction. Gaster was unsettled; less than an hour ago she'd been ready to kill them all, but now she was eager to make small talk with him. He was starting to question her sanity.

“Okay, so… you’ve got a pretty powerful special attack, huh?”

Gaster blinked. Of all the topics she might have wanted to discuss, he hadn’t expected her to ask about his magic. “I... suppose?” he answered.

“How powerful are those skull things, exactly?”

Gaster already didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I don’t really know, honestly. I’ve never tested them or anything. All I know is that whatever I’ve used them on has gotten really damaged or destroyed.”

Undyne nodded. “Interesting. And what kind of things have you used them on?”

The skeleton tried to remember everything he’d fired his Blasters at. “Things at the dump, boulders, tree stumps… textbooks that your college won’t buy back… that kind of stuff. Nothing important.”

“But have you like, used them on another monster? I know you gave me a warning shot back there, but-”

“What? No, of course not! I wouldn’t want to actually hurt someone with them! Did you not hear me say that to the king?”

“Hey, chill, it was just a question.”

Gaster narrowed his eyes. Was she really interested in his magic, or was she just trying to get a rise out of him? “What exactly are you getting at? I told you to make this quick, so cut to the chase already.”

Undyne grumbled. “Alright, fine.” She paused to think about what to say next. “Uh, okay, I bet this’ll sound crazy, but… have you ever thought about joining the Royal Guard?”

He stiffened. “Joining the Royal Guard?"

“Well, yeah, why not?” Undyne gave him another toothy smile. “You’ve got a hell of an attack, and I’m sure you’re a little tougher than you look. Plus, it looks like you’ve seen your fair share of scuffles, right?”

Gaster looked away sheepishly. Everyone seemed to be interested in the fractures today. “Uh, not exactly. The cracks are just from a stupid accident.”

“Oh,” Undyne said, slightly less enthusiastic. “Well still, you haven’t ever thought about becoming a Royal Guard?”

“Not really, no.”

“Come on, I’m sure you’d be fine! You might even be really good at it.”

“No.” Gaster tried stepping around her, but she blocked him.

“Can’t you at least think it over for a bit?”

He scowled. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? I’m not joining the Royal Guard.”

“Why the hell not?” Undyne demanded. “You want to waste all that potential just to do a bunch of nerd stuff? You’d be a huge asset against a human! Don’t you care about the rest of monsterkind??”

“Of course I do! But I don’t want to do this!” Gaster shot back, gesturing at the violent art above them. “Didn’t you say you would leave me alone if I didn’t like what you said? Because I really don’t.”

“Well, I didn’t actually expect you to refuse an invitation to the Royal Guard,” Undyne spat. “It’s not just about you, this involves every monster that’s trapped down here. Think about everyone else!”

“What I do with my life is none of your business! I worked hard to get where I am, and I’m not throwing it all away to work with some brute like you.” He tried to step around the fish monster a second time, but she blocked his path again.

“If you would just listen-“

“No, I’m done listening to you! So back off!” The skeleton finally managed to outmaneuver Undyne, storming off in the direction he and his companions had been headed. Sans and Alphys followed after him, leaving Undyne behind in the hall.

***

In the castle’s gray passages, Gaster stewed in his own thoughts. He should’ve known better than to let Undyne talk to him after seeing his attack. Of course the only thing she cared about was how strong his magic was. Of course she didn’t care what he’d already chosen to do with his life. Of course she would try to get him to join the Royal Guard. And of course she’d say he was selfish when he refused.

He’d heard it all before. Several times.

“G, wait up!” Sans called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Gaster slowed down. Part of him wanted to stay far ahead of them to process his emotions alone, but leaving Sans and Alphys behind would make it harder for any of them to find their way back. He decided to stop, but barely acknowledged his friends once they reached him.

Alphys looked up at the skeleton. “Gaster, um… a-are you okay?” she asked.

Gaster huffed. “No, not really.” He started walking again.

“Geez, she sure pissed you off back there,” Sans remarked.

“It isn’t just her. It’s…” Gaster hesitated. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s lame, old family drama. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.” Usually he’d tell his friends at least a little about something that was bothering him, but talking about his family was particularly uncomfortable. As far as he remembered, he’d never talked to Sans or Alphys about them.

“Family drama?” Sans repeated. “Like, your mom and sister?”

“Oh, god, no. It’s on my dad’s side of the family.”

Alphys’s eyes widened. “Your dad’s side? I’ve never heard you mention anyone else in your family.”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly my favorite subject,” Gaster admitted. “I probably shouldn’t be letting it get to me this much.” He hadn’t even seen his relatives in a long time. Surely nothing they’d ever said should still bother him at this point in his life.

Alphys looked up at him with concern. “Would, um, talking more about it help?”

He slowed down a little. “I’m not sure. I’ve never told you guys anything about this, so...”

“I-I mean, you don’t have to,” Alphys added. “But we’d both listen. Right, Sans?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Listening is pretty easy.”

Gaster mulled it over. “… Alright, I could tell you a little bit. Just don’t judge me or anything, okay?”

“What, didja murder someone?” Sans quipped. “Cuz I might have some problems with that.”

Gaster laughed a little, despite himself. “No, it’s not quite that bad.” He walked over to a nearby wall and leaned back against it. “Well, to make a long story short, when I was growing up I had a lot of family members telling me to join the Royal Guard because of my special attack. No matter how many times I said no, someone would always bring it back up. It was a big deal for most of them.”

“Why’s that?” Sans set his case down on its edge and sat on it, careful not to tip it over.

“That would be the long version,” Gaster replied. “There’s a lot to it.”

“Like…?” Alphys prompted.

Did they really want to know more? Gaster worried about what they might think if he gave them all the details. Then again, these two were far different from anyone in his family. It wasn't likely that his friends would have the same mindset as they did.

He took a deep breath before starting. “For starters, having Blasters is something that runs in my dad’s side of the family. They’ve always been a source of family pride. It’s pretty rare, but once in a while someone ends up with them.”

“When I was little I would hear stories from my relatives about monsters who had the Gaster Blasters. Almost everyone who got them ended up in the Royal Guard or something similar. Back then, I loved hearing about them, and before my magic developed I wanted so badly to end up with the Blasters, too.  When I passed the age most monster kids started using magic and still wasn’t able to do anything, I wanted them even more.”

“And then finally-“- Gaster threw his hands in the air - “The day came when I could use magic, and the first thing I conjure up is a pair of Blasters. Both my dad and I were pretty excited about it, but right after I told him, he sat me down and gave me a serious talk about how dangerous they could be. He told me that I had to be careful with them so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt someone. They have a mind of their own sometimes, so if you don’t know how to control them…”

He decided not to finish that thought. “And that’s when I realized what having the Blasters really meant. They weren’t just a cool magic attack anymore. They were weapons.” Gaster shifted uncomfortably. “The thought of actually having to hurt or even kill someone made me feel sick. If I went into anything like law enforcement or the Royal Guard, I knew I’d probably have to do that at some point, and that really upset me. One day I finally asked my dad if I would have to be in the Guard someday just because of my magic, and he said it was up to me. I could do whatever I wanted to, whether it involved the Blasters or not. And I was pretty happy with that.”

“But the rest of the family wasn’t too thrilled that I didn’t want to be a guard. They tried to bring it up all the time, but Dad would just shoot them down. I didn’t have to hear much about it for a long time.” Gaster sighed. “But after he died, pretty much all courtesy on the subject got thrown out the window. My mom and sister were still supportive of me, of course, but my relatives weren’t afraid to share their thoughts.”

His voice grew bitter. “Every time we had a gathering with them, at least one person would mention it. ‘Hey W.D., have you thought any more about enlisting into the King’s forces?’ ‘Come on, you’d do great in the Royal Guard!’ ‘How could you just waste a gift like that? Stop being selfish and think about the rest of monsterkind!’” He shook his head. “When I decided I wanted to go into the sciences, they became even more determined to change my mind. But I managed to hold my ground. After my dad first talked to me about the Blasters, I promised myself that I’d never use my attack on anybody – and I wanted to keep it that way.”

“But… what about today?” Alphys asked cautiously.

“Pfft, threatening someone with the Blasters is different than actually using them. I’ve summoned them a few times when going through the sketchy parts of the city and such. Just seeing them is enough to scare any troublemakers off.” For a second, he actually did feel proud to have them. “I was sure Undyne would do the same. Then when she didn’t, I kind of… panicked. It had never even crossed my mind to make a backup plan.” He looked away, embarrassed. He should have known better than to assume that someone who’d had fighting experience would turn tail and run.

“Look, the Blasters are a strong attack even without training. I don’t know how much damage mine could do to someone in one blast, but I know they have the potential to dust all kinds of monsters in one shot.” He looked at the floor. “If I wanted to, I could kill almost any monster in the Underground. Maybe even a human, if I really dedicated myself. It’s… kind of horrifying, honestly. I don’t like to think about it.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them. Gaster wondered if he’d given them too much information at once - or worse, that they felt the same way his relatives did.

Sans finally spoke up. “Geez, that’s some heavy stuff. I can see why Undyne aggravated you so much.”

Gaster released some of the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Yeah, everything she said was what everyone else told me about a hundred times. It brought up a lot of bad memories.”

“I bet,” Alphys said. “They all sound like a bunch of… well, jerks.”

“Well, some of them weren’t that bad about it.” Gaster shrugged. “But I hardly see them anymore, so if anyone still has a problem with it, at least I don’t have to hear their whining.”

He realized he did feel a little better now that he’d talked about his thoughts. It was even more reassuring knowing his friends were on his side. With a stretch, he stepped away from the wall. “Welp, I hope you guys enjoyed my tragic backstory.”

Alphys snorted. “Oh yeah, I loved it. Now we all know about each other’s tortured pasts, right?”

“Hey, we’re all still young. There’s still plenty of time for tragedy,” Sans said as he got up from his makeshift seat.

Gaster chuckled. “Wow, okay. That’s pretty dark.”

“What, I’m not allowed to do dark humor?”

“No, it’s just… weird, coming from you.”

“Hey, I’m more than just puns, you know.”

“Ah, of course. I just forgot in the deluge of wordplay you flood me and Alphys with every day.”

Somewhere in the city, a clock started chiming the hour. Alphys looked at her phone to confirm the time. “Oh geez, have we been standing here long? We need to get going again!”

“Alph, it’s only been like, 5 minutes.” Sans patted her shoulder. “We’re fine.”

“We should get moving again, though,” Gaster said. “If we take too long, someone might suspect we’re avoiding work altogether.” He grabbed the case sitting beside him.

They finally resumed walking, managing to remember the way they came in among the numerous passages of the castle. As they traveled, Sans slid over next to Alphys. “So,” he began. “About that fish-girl we just met – I bet you think she’d be a reel catch, huh?”

Alphys blushed. “Sans, I swear to god-“

“Hey, no need to be bassful about your new crush. Or are you still more interested in Asgore?”

Alphys got even redder, but the skeleton didn’t relent. “I think you have a chance with him, too. But first you goat to get his attention, be-fur someone else does.”

“Ugghhh!” Alphys shoved him away, making him snicker. “Gaster, can you get him to stop??”

Gaster smirked. “No, you kids need to settle this by yourselves.”

“Not you, too!”

He looked back at her quizzically. “What do you mean? I didn’t- ...oh, god.” He smacked his forehead. Kids. “Sans, stop corrupting me.”

“Whale, if you don’t like goat puns, I can go back to fish.” Sans caught up to Gaster. “My goat puns are kind of crappie anyways. So hey, any ideas on how Alphys can fin over Asgore or fish-girl? It’s fine if you need to mullet over for a bit. Personally, I think she should be honest about her eelings, but I trout she’d want to be that up front about it-“

“Sans,” Gaster said.

“Yeah?”

“Will you please shut up?”

[allenmendezsr]

John Thornhill's Digital Mentorship Monthly.

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/john-thornhills-digital-mentorship-monthly/

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[winsister91]

>send an ask: get to know your author ---> all the number >:3

ARE YOU SERIOUS? Damn. Did not expect this. Well you asked for it!! 

Lemme just go ahead and pop a ‘keep reading’ here coz this shit’s gonna get lengthy.

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?Got a ton of ideas I noted down and still haven't got around to doing? Does that count? I’m lazy and think faster than I write.

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?Published online? Not really. Unpublished? LOADS.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?Generally chronological when doings fanfics. The piece of shit novel that I’ll never finish has been all over the place.

4) favorite character you’ve writtenAlways love writing Dean <3

5) character you were most surprised to end up writingDidn’t expect a request to write Richard Speight Jnr fluff! Shocked me a little. But it was fun to do!

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change nowI ballsed up Three Wrongs Make a Right. I had a vision for the ending, but then went off in a completely different direction and backed myself into a corner. Now I dont know how to continue it DX

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?Bit of both I guess. I’m more comfortable with strangers reading my stuff tho. There’s a very select few people I know IRL who have actually read stuff I’ve done. I’ll tell people I write, if they ask to see it, nine times out of ten it’s a huge HELL NO.

8) favorite genre to writeWhen writing original works, I always fall into fantasy. Fanfics I'm a sucker for fluff.

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?I listen to game/movie soundtracks! I dunno why, just helps me visualise stuff and get in the groove.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?Alone with background noise.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?Pfft. I don’t think it has haha I’m maybe more confident in actually doing it these days maybe?

12) your weaknesses as an authorGRAMMAR. Super dialogue heavy. Suck at setting and describing scenery.

13) your strengths as an author:S IDK. I may be dialogue heavy but I’d like to think it’s decent dialogue at least?

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?Nah.

15) why did you start writing?Simple, I just enjoy it. Writing is super hard tho, but I enjoy attempting to tell stories and hope it entertains someone :)

16) are there any characters who haunt you?*shrugs* dont think so?

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?LEARN TO GRAMMAR. QUICKLY COZ YOU STILL CAN’T DO IT AGED 26 FGS YOU HAVE AN A-LEVEL IN ENGLISH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?Uuuh...maybe? I’m not observant enough to notice coz I’m a dumb :3

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?PLAN PLAN PLAN. Or just wing it and hope for the best. Depends on my mood.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?I came to Tumblr during a fortnight off work, so the sessions were looooong and stretching into the stupidly early morning hours. Then I had to go back to work *sulk*. so now its more short bursts coz I’m too damn tired all the time.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?This sucks. That sucks. Why do I subject people to this trash? NB: this applies to current works too.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?If it makes me that uncomfortable, I simply won’t write it I guess. Is that cowardly? I don’t like writing abuse.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?Lived in a pub in my childhood, have always worked in customer services so I have met and spoken too some nice/fun/weird/creepy people over the years. No doubt some of them will have creeped into the writings. Again, I’m not observant enough to fully notice tho.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?I wouldn’t say ‘expert’ but I got a request to write a migraine fic (which can be found heeeeere), and I’ve never experienced one. So I did some googling, found a page where people described how a migraine actually felt to them, looked up suggested home remedies, what happens when a migraine comes on etc etc The overall feedback I got from that fic was that I got the description pretty damn accurate! Which was pretty cool :) I would never wish a migraine on anybody btw.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud ofOh god...guess I better scavenge and see if I actually like any of it...Okay, I’m gonna go with this chunk out of This Means War

“Round 1You skulk up to the blonde Dean has been chatting up just as he goes to the bar to grab them both a drink.“Hey,” you whisper and the girl turns to you puzzled, “My sister hooked up with that guy a week or so ago. Crabs.”Dean approaches while you dance with a baby-faced cutie.“Again?” he says, pulling out his fake FBI ID, “I'll let you off this night Miss Spankalot, but I catch you in here looking for customers again, I'll have to take you in.” Round 2You run up and slap Dean amongst a group of girls on their hen night.“You bastard!” You cry over dramatically, “You're other wife just called to tell you she's pregnant! With triplets!”“She's loopy that one,” Dean mumbles to your next victim, “I heard she pokes holes in condoms and goes crazy screaming you'll be the perfect happy family.” Round 3Dean wanders over to the guy eyeing you up. You watch as he points at you and lip read him saying, “Has a penis.”You make eye contact over Dean’s shoulder to the brunette he's charming. You lean forward, nodding you head towards Dean and announcing, “Micro-penis.””I just really enjoyed writing this chunk. Fun and pranky Dean is always a joy. I like how ridiculous he and reader are getting over a silly bet and determined to one up and sabotage each other. One of my finer moments in attempted comedy I feel :)

THERE ARE YOU HAPPY NOW! (That was actually really fun, thankyouloveyoubye)