#and im unpracticed so it looks Bad

[blackenedsnow]

hihi please write a nathan explosion x reader with tons and tons of anxiety like its so bad 🙏 im in a rlly bad place right now and need some comfort with my boy

unsteady hands

WARNING: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and emotional distress.

PAIRING: Nathan Explosion x Reader

NOTE: Thank you for the request! I had anxiety back in 9th grade so I'm just writing based off my experiences with it.

SUMMARY: Nathan Explosion was not known for his sensitivity. As the lead vocalist of Dethklok, he was used to dealing with chaos, destruction, and the occasional fan frenzy. Emotions, however, were a different beast altogether.

You were curled up on the couch, your breathing ragged and uneven. The familiar signs of a panic attack were setting in, and Nathan could see the fear in your eyes. He frowned, unsure of what to do. His massive hands hovered awkwardly in the air, hesitant to reach out. He knew how to destroy things, but fixing something so delicate was another story.

“Uh, hey,” he started, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re, uh, you're freaking out again.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. Nathan’s heart clenched. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how. He awkwardly patted your shoulder, the gesture stiff and unpracticed. “It’s… okay. You’ll be okay.”

But you weren’t okay, and his words didn’t seem to help. Your breathing got worse, and Nathan felt a wave of panic himself. He hated seeing you like this, so vulnerable and scared. He wanted to do more, but he didn’t know how. He felt a knot tie in his chest, he wasn't used to feeling helpless.

After what felt like an eternity, you started to calm down, your breaths becoming more even. Nathan sat beside you, feeling like he’d failed. He was supposed to protect you, but he couldn’t even do that right.

The next day, Nathan found himself in Pickles’ room. The drummer was lounging on his bed, sipping a beer and flipping through a nude magazine. He looked up as Nathan entered, raising an eyebrow.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.”

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, his massive frame towering in the doorway. “Uh, I need your help. With, uh… with something personal.”

Pickles sat up, intrigued. “Yeah? What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s about (Y/N),” Nathan began, his voice gruff with uncertainty. “They’ve got this… anxiety thing. Really bad. I don’t know how to help them.”

Pickles nodded slowly, setting his beer aside. “Yeah, anxiety’s a bitch. What happened?”

Nathan explained the previous night, his frustration evident. “I tried to help, but I think just made it worse. I don’t know what to do.”

Pickles thought for a moment, then spoke carefully. “Okay, here’s what ya gotta do. First, don’t try to fix it. Just be there for ‘em. Hold their hand, let ‘em know you’re there. Sometimes that’s all they need.”

Nathan listened intently, nodding along. “What else?”

“If they’re havin’ a panic attack, help ‘em breathe. Deep breaths, slow and steady. It’s all about gettin’ their body to calm down. And don’t freak out, ‘cause that’ll just make it worse.”

Nathan absorbed Pickles’ advice, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Okay. I’ll try that... thanks.”

“No problem, dude,” Pickles said with a smile. “Just remember, you care about ‘em. That’s the most important part.”

A few days later, it happened again. You were on the verge of a panic attack, your breathing erratic and your hands trembling. Nathan felt the familiar surge of helplessness, but he remembered Pickles’ advice.

He sat down beside you, his presence solid and grounding. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said awkwardly, taking your hand in his. “I’m, uh, here. I’m not going... anywhere.”

You squeezed his hand, your grip tight with fear. Nathan could feel your anxiety, but he didn’t let it show. He focused on keeping his own breathing steady, hoping you’d follow his lead.

“Breathe with me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “In… and out. Look, like I am.”

You tried to match his breathing, your breaths shaky at first. Nathan kept his eyes on you, his hand warm and steady in yours. It took time, but gradually, your breathing slowed, your body relaxing bit by bit.

“You’re doing... good,” Nathan muttered, still unsure of himself. “Just, uh, keep breathing.”

It wasn’t perfect, and he was still incredibly awkward. His movements were stiff, and his words came out clumsily. But he stayed by your side, doing his best to help you through it. You could see the effort he was putting in, and it meant the world to you.

As the panic attack subsided, you leaned back against the couch, your body feeling heavy with exhaustion. Nathan stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours, though he was unsure if he should let go. His brow was furrowed with concern, and he seemed more uncomfortable with the aftermath of the situation than he did during the attack itself.

“Are... are you okay now?” he asked, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Nathan.”

He shifted awkwardly, finally releasing your hand and rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t do much,” he mumbled. “Just tried not to fuck up.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him, offering a small smile. “It helped a lot just having you here.”

Nathan grunted in response, his usual way of acknowledging something without making a big deal out of it. He got up from the couch and grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, handing it to you.

“Here. Drink this.”

You took the bottle, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks.”

He nodded and sat back down, the room falling into a comfortable silence. Nathan wasn’t good with words, but his actions spoke volumes. He was there for you, and that was enough.

[meaningofaeons]

First request ive sent for hsr bcz I DO NOT SEE ENOUGH AU CONTENT ON THIS SITE?? I would like to request Gepard x reader musician au where gepard plays an instrument or maybe hes some kind of idol… idk im insane and ill take anything 😭

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ (tone) deaf

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau ⊹ word count - 705 ⊹ notes - gn!reader, musician/music au, modern au, gepard is still kinda a bad singer like in canon but not as bad (serval vocal coach yahoo!), reader is implied to be semi-famous but still knows the landaus, serval's band is implied to be semi-famous too (SERVAL WINGWOMAN IS BACK!!!), idol!gepard

hi anon!!! I REALLY LIKE THIS REQUEST!!!! I love guys who can't sing (cough tanjiro demon slayer cough) and it's always so cute writing about them. the idea of idol!gepard made me swoon so I went that route! I did hcs I hope that's okay! and I hope the modern au is okay, I didn't know if you wanted to stick to the original belobog/hsr setting or no. thanks for requesting!!! (=^･ｪ･^=))ﾉ彡☆ (I didnt rlly know how to end this one so if you want a p2 lemme know <3)

Gepard isn't necessarily a bad singer. He's just unpracticed.

Serval remembers fondly the times her brother would try to sing in his room, completely unaware of how he sounded to anyone with half an ear for tone.

He'd always wanted to be in a band of some sort like his older sister, but he didn't really have a knack for it. And instruments? Forget it. He could barely strum a single chord on a guitar!

Brawn was always Gepard's bigger strong suit over brains, and music certainly required quite a bit of the latter.

So, Serval, noticing her brother's plight (but also his desire for improvement) approached him on getting vocal lessons. From her, of course.

Over the course of a few years, he improved by leaps and bounds. In all that time, it never occurred to his sister to ask why he was so desperate for musical ability.

That is, until she went with him to one of your shows on her rare time off from her own band.

You were a longtime friend of the Landaus, and Serval felt that all three of you got along quite well. Like a house on fire, one would say.

But she never quite expected her brother to be so taken with your sound.

"Y/N has really bettered her playing!" Gepard ranted to Serval as soon as they were out of the small live house venue, waving his arms around. "I mean, she's always been good, but wow!"

"Is that why you wanted to get into music?" the girl teased, and her sibling immediately shut up.

"...N-Not exactly, but Y/N is inspiring."

"Your crush is written all over your face, baby bro—"

Serval was promptly shushed when you bounded up to the two of them.

"Hey, guys! How'd you like the show? Pretty cool, right?"

Gepard would spend hours ranting to you about songwriting, tone, anything he could possibly think of to occupy your conversation. Serval, meanwhile, would slink away to give you two your space.

It didn't take long for the newly-improved singer Gepard to find his place in a male idol unit.

His looks certainly helped, but it was no shocker that his leaps-and-bounds better singing was the kicker that got him his spot.

You continued your own musical gigs, but you were always willing to lend the blonde a helping hand (and ear!) for his new songs. Though idol groups usually got composers to write for them, Gepard was a sucker for coming up with his own songs.

As a very handsome guy, his talents were naturally geared towards a 'heartthrob' persona to his fans, which they lapped up like a cat to milk.

You soon became no exception—though you were obviously closer to him than any fan could get.

You would help him with writing songs, and all of his love-centric ones were written with you in mind (not that he would ever admit such a thing)

Still, you seemed ever-oblivious to his hints, even when his songs started to get borderline personal. His manager had to outright stop him from performing a song on the fly during one of his shows that specifically described you.

And Gepard was silently thankful that his moment of lovestruck delirium hadn't been broadcasted live to millions.

You couldn't exactly deny your own feelings for the man, but considering both of your levels of fame and his rise to success as a shoe-in for the whole nation's celebrity crush, you figured not to say a word.

Even though the work got busier by the day, though, Gepard always made time for you, and you for him.

When he couldn't make it to a show of yours or he had to miss out on a meeting due to a scheduling conflict, he'd always send a bouquet of your favorite flowers straight to your doorstep.

And though you couldn't always be there for his live performances, you always made sure to send something to eat from his favorite restaurant that he could indulge in after the show.

Fame could be tiring, trifling, and outright frustrating at times, but with the two of you to support one another, it wasn't too bad a hurdle to cross.

[sickofthis666]

Straight women when asked why they shave, at some point in the 2010s and after: I do it for ME, *I* LIKE it like that

Me: But how did you even figure out you liked it? Why did you do it the first time ever? Personally I did it after being bullied and mocked and harassed endlessly about it by boys my age in MS, and after actually doing it I was horrified of how painful the electric razor was on my legs, feeling doomed by the idea id have to subject myself to 30 minutes of excruciating pain, again and again, somehow willing but somehow not...?

Straight men when asked why they don't shave: Ew, because that'd be gay! (AN: gay is pronounced like it's the worst thing one could be called)

Me: Oh? So shaving is somehow directly linked to your sexual orientation? Shaving is about making yourself physically and sexually appealing to men? And not about you? When you see women, do you categorize the shaved ones as straight/fuckable and the unshaved as lesbians/unfuckable?

Why did somehow owning your sexuality as a straight woman become a bad thing? Why do women feels attacked and give answers that sounds like excuses - "the sexy, tight, unpractical clothing is for me; the conventional makeup that hides what society and men branded as flaws is for me: the painful and hard to walk in and ankle-sprain-inducing high heels are for me! Of course they are! I'm an independant woman, i make my own decisions.'

It used to be 100% fine to owe up to your choices. "Yeah im wearing this short and tight dress Because Im going to the club to get approached by men (they still make the first move anyway), get complimented on my looks bc I spent time on them, flirt, and get laid. I wear those heels to seduce men. I wear make up so more men will approach me and ill have a higher chance to get laid." There's NOTHING wrong with wanting men's attention when you’re sexually attracted to them - its normal. And working to get it. It's not shameful. Just because you do one thing doesn't make your whole life revolve around pleasing men! You contain multitudes!

[shoebillstork]

Oc lore and history of ky world dump under tha cut

Okay so in my world there are three main gods: god of identity, most devote followers residing the in the glaciel Northeast region, the god of purpose, less devoted followers but more of just a widespread belief in the south, and the god of foundation whose beliefs have been integrated very much into the practice of society in the north east. Rimon, the big castle in the middle, represents the mirror city. All three beliefs are mixed together (and all the beliefs realistically should be mixed together because otherwise focusing on one aspect tends to be bad and unhealthy) in Rimon, the captial of the continent, as well as all the regions cultures. There's lesser acknowledged gods, but those are the big three.

The lesser gods can choose champions of their will (not saying the big three cant but they arent focused on individuals) and with it grant them power. The ones more prevelant in my are the champions of vitality, oddity, greed, memory, and creation. Everith, who was prolific in preservation magic, was chosen a long time ago to be the champion of vitality. Vitality was interpreted as a preservation of life, or remaining in the best condition possible, at the time so they were the perfevt choice. Along with their preexisting preservation magic they gained an abundance of energy and healing magic.

If you look on the map you can see a giant ridge of mountains around the continent. A long time ago a meteor was called down onto the continent and made a lot of the life extinct on it as well. There aren't many records of why or how or even what it was life before the impact, but it's said that the land was controlled by evil. The royal family of Rimon are patrons of the creation god, specifically chosen to enact the creation God's will. With creation comes responsibility, and they're like the erase tool. They have the power to call down comets and cause extinction events, but there's a lot of responsibility and rituals and timing with space in order for it to happen. Anyways, the royal family survived and rebuilt in Rimon, and the crater impact site eventually became the rotating city, or Scorwally (im making ip names for yhe cities on the fly LMAO) anyways Everith was born in the identity region a couple hundred years after Rimon was established and became the champion.

Being a champion is very lonely because youre put on a religious pedestal as well as just having a lot of enemies, and Everith has it even worse because they're essentially immortal so any friends they do make end up dying. They become friends with the champion of memory tho, who can remember their past lives perfectly and start a new life basically as soon as they die. They even remember before the first impact. Anyways, with a constant companion, Everith and MC (memory champion) start making connections with other champions and act as mentors essentially to them.

They make their base of operations in Rimon, and their little agency becomes very powerful due to so many champions working together. After so many years of wealth and power, the Rimon Royalty has become lazy and basically unpracticed (? Right word? Badically they dont do their job because it was done before they took the throne) but are still in power. The people of Rimon start respecting the agency more than the royal family, which obviously causes problems for the royal family when their people don't respect their word.

King Lofed Rimona decides to constrict the power the agency has, which the agency obviously ignores. He decides to take more drastic measures, and declares the agency to be criminals. This causes a rift between the people of Rimon between people who believe in the royal family and those who believe in the agency, and a civil war starts. After a couple years of fighting, the agency wins and basically overthrows the Rimona family. Lofed, however, had a plan B thus entire time. Lofed evacuates his family from Rimon and calls down another impact centered on Rimon. The entire city is destroyed, along with everyone in it, including Lofed.

Everith manages to survive. They climb their way out of the debris of the city and after realizing their entire lift work has been destroyed they sit a whole year in shock, ignoring literally everything ariund them. Its like they turn into a statue. The god of vitality is bored by this, and switches champions. Everith feels a conplete and utter despair over their entire life and everything they've ever done. It's only because of the rejection of the virality god that they snap out of it. They start living again, but now their main goal is to get revenge on the gods.

Since the champion of memory is still like 2 at this point, they're completely alone. They become friends with the champion of greed, Valder the Consumer, and start working their way into getting revenge on the gods. Valder feels scorned by his championship, he didn't want one in the first place and especially not one rhats considered bad. He and Everith find a companionship in being scorned, and it eventually devolves into a romance. MC finds them again, and dissaproves of what they're doing, blaming the Rimonas for what happened. They have a fallout and MC leaves Everith to focus on their own mission. However, Valder was chosen because of his underlying desires in the first place. The champion of greed is able to gain any power of whoever they consume, and Valder wants to be immortal. He betrays Everith and eats them.

Everith still has preservation magic, however, and eventually claws their way out of his stomach and escapes. Valder still became immortal tho, and is wreaking havoc wherever he decides to go. Everith feels bestrayed by literally everyone in the world, and decides to work to destroy the entire world. They enlist the help of a champion who they grant immortal preservation. This champion, Argo, (haven't decided which god yet) was stuck because of her power, which allows her to trap people in objects. Argo follows Everith's lead in trapping key people in objects until they're useful for Everiths plan.

This includes Selendor Rimona, the heir of Rimon. Rimon got re-established after the second impact by the royal family, who is of course horrified by the actions of Lofed. They give up the powers of the creation god, and instead rule based on responsibility and respect of the kingdom. The people once again follow their lead, and build a castle made out of glass and mirrors in the middle of the crater from the impact, and the city is rebuilt in the crater walls, grander than ever. Hundreds of years pass once again until the heir to the throne, Selendor, is sealed inside one of the mirrors in the throne room. The entire continent panics. The Rimonas were the symbolic power that everyone could follow, otherwise there would have been countless wars between the regions. Eith the absence of their ruler, the regions secede into three kingdoms based on their gods: identity, foundation, and purpose.

The foundation region was already pushy before because they believed without a doubt that their kingdom was the best way to run things, with longer living races being in charge of all the shorter lived ones and that whereever you were born is ultimately the status you should stay, and a lot of royalty there abused their power of it. However, the servant of the tyrantial queen drowned her in her bath and fled. The servant became the face of an anti royalty movement, scaring the nobles. The queens brother became king, and with the absence of the Rimonas and already feeling like his kingdom is crumbling due to the realization of the power dynamic and how quickly it could change, he took over Rimon and became the dominant power in the continent. He doesn't want Selendor to be freed from her mirror, and starts working with Everith despite the rumors of their reputation. They have a mutually beneficial relationship where Everith takes care of people the king dissaproves of, including the revolutionary movement starting (MC is a main pusher for the movement and becomes a public figure again) while supplying Everith with whatever they want. The king doesn't know their plan.

Anyways, that's Everith and a good summary of the main history of the world. I'll explain more ocs in my world laterrrr

[zorlok-if]

Friendly scenario: ❝ hey, let me in. i’m outside with your favorite pizza. ❞ with Tommy

AHHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSS

From this prompt list.

Balancing the pizza box in one hand you attempt to text the kid, "hey, let me in. i'm outside with your favorite pizza" but with your unpracticed fingers and the keypad's idiotically small buttons, it comes out as: "hez lft mein im ouuside wiuh yourfaorite piz xa".

You growl. Fuck it, you think to yourself, and start to call him. At that moment, the front door swings open. A woman stands in the doorway with her arms crossed. You slam your phone into your pocket and the box teeters dangerously.

"Ah, Elena!" you cry, trying your best to recover your cool demeanor, "Hi, hello."

"I didn't know you delivered pizzas in addition to tutoring. I also don't remember ordering pizza."

"No, no, I don't actually, I was just," your thought is interrupted by frantic footsteps cascading down the stairs.

"It's okay mom," Tommy's voice cracks, "It's for me."

Elena's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

Tommy pulls the door open further and you can finally see his face, his mouth open as he pants heavily and translucent beads of sweat start to appear on his forehead. "I, uh- I mean," he looks out to you.

"Uh, Tommy texted me earlier telling me that he'd had a bad day at school."

Tommy's eyes light up. His mouth snaps shuts and he nods emphatically up at his mother. "Yep, real bad day. Pretty awful," he says with a little too much enthusiasm and relief for it to be convincing.

"So, I decided I'd try to cheer him up by bringing him his favorite pizza." You lift the box and offer your most genuine, unthreatening smile. "I thought we could go hang out in the park and talk about what's got him feeling down."

Elena crosses her arms and looks between the two of you a couple times. "Okay, fine. It's a school night so just make sure he's back before 9." Tommy starts to sigh but you flash him a cautionary glance and he retains his composure.

"Thank you so much, Elena," you mutter as Tommy squeezes past his mom, slipping a hoodie that says "Greetings from Tatooine" over his head. Elena nods and shuts the door.

"Thanks, Z!" Tommy whispers.

You snort, "Yeah, no problem kid," and pass him the pizza box.

His face lights up and he gasps, "Wait, what? You actually have pizza!?" He opens up the lid and fragrant steam billows out. Your own stomach grumbles. Tommy immediately starts tearing into it.

"Yeah, of course," you mutter grabbing a slice. "Didn't you get my text?"

Tommy chews for a moment, "Yeah, but I couldn't figure out what it was supposed to say. I figured you'd butt texted me or something."

"Butt texted?"

"You know, like butt dialing but for texting."

You take a bite. Sin, it tastes good. "No, kid." You murmur between mouthfuls. "I really don't know."

"Do you need me to teach you how to text again?" Tommy asks.

"Yes, please. Also, dude, can we work on your lying? It fucking sucks."

[threading-fate]

CAMILO HCs BECAUSE HES THE BEST (ENCANTO)

okay okay so. camilo madrigal, amirite. (this got kinda long, oops)

i recently watched the movie and HOOOOOOOO BOY

*SLAPS CAMILO’S BACK* THIS BAD BOY CAN FIT IN SO MANY HEADCANONS.

THE MOMENT THE MOVIE ENDED, I HAD SO HCS FOR CAMILO IDC IF HE GOT LIKE 5 MIN SCREENTIME SO I HAD TO WRITE THEM DOWN SOMEWHERE. so my hcs for camilo specifically are these:

- Camilo has an ENTIRE area/space in his bedroom that contains little things he found while he was someone else; am i saying he is a thief? no, i am not. (maybe.) BUT WHAT IM SAYING IS SOMETIMES HE KEEPS THEM OKAY. Or maybe he asks for them politely. like the good kid he is.

- Camilo’s room has SO MANY mirrors (maybe even a WHOLE room of it) and people think its bc hes narcissistic BUT NO. its so he doesnt forget what his true self looks like. because of how frequent he is acting like someone else, somewhere deep down he’s afraid of forgetting himself. so. mirrors

- Adding to the one above, maybe he gave himself a rule that he cant shapeshift into someone else while in his room. 

- ONTO ONE OF MY FAVORITES. (my thoughts is that camilo can somewhat Also attain the person’s abilities/skills) Camilo just has these really RANDOM interests for so many random shit like sewing, drawing, singing, dancing, cooking/baking, writing etc etc. at this point, the madrigal family is used to it and they all indulge him (imagine maribel teaching camilo how to sew, and add isa who teaches camilo how to make flower crowns and then camilo gets this great idea to sew REAL flowers into a piece of clothing hes sewing himself) (maybe isa made the flowers immortal)

- adding to the above, Camilo gets really interested in the randomest hobbies but the THING is... HES BAD AT THEM. SO BAD. LIKE GEN Z TALKING ABOUT EMOTIONS BAD. /LH. anyways what i mean is that everything he does is done AWFULLY, but. but camilo LOVES it. literally adores anything and everything he creates. because you know what? he made these *gestures wildly to badly sewn scarves, overcooked pies, near incomprehensible doodles, and more* HE MADE ALL OF THAT. AND HES SO PROUD OF IT!!!! 

bc it was by HIM and HIM ONLY. made by his inexperienced hands, made by his small hands, made by his unpracticed hands. hes so proud of them because its HIS only, okay?? nobody elses. (at an angle, this is his own way of making sure he still knows himself and can do things not influenced by the people he shapeshifts into.) he loves them all dearly. and keeps them in his room like theyre his trophies and medals of the fucking century. 

THATS ALL I HAVE (FOR NOW?) I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING ALL THAT SHIT. HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT

[tiredrobin-scooted]

Uhh hmm…. something-something about Link braiding his hair with flowers. (Yes this is just an excuse to hear your headcanons. Yes I want to hear them.)

like what u read? im doing BOTW link-centric ficlets and snippets focused on my own headcanons right now, so feel free to send me an ask with a prompt!

Word count: 1,674

Tags: Light(???) angst, fluff, chronic pain, some self-flagellation due to aforementioned chronic pain

—

There’s something about hair. Something about—

Koko gets just a bit too excited. The way she bounces on the balls of her feet when he produces from his slate meats and rice and a light smattering of greens is endearing, and Link is grinning even before they start. He shows her how to carve the meat and then leaves her nearly-confident hands to take care of the rest while he rewashes the rice one last time and then dumps it into the pot to begin simmering. Koko rambles at him as she works, watching her hands as carefully as Link does, and he only listens with half an ear.

A few loosened locks of hair have slipped from the untidied bun atop her head in her eager dancing, falling just so that they flutter overtop her eyes. She keeps ineffectually blowing them back often enough that Link pauses in preparing their greens to reach over and brush them away himself, and Koko barely startles before shooting him a smile. She goes mostly quiet after that but Link is pretty sure it isn’t in a bad way. They finish up in a comfortable silence, then settle back to wait for their food to finish cooking.

It’s a thoughtless action to reach out again when his hands are idle for too long. Koko seems to know what he wants even before he does, because she scoots over with her back to him and tilts her head into his hands, and Link finds himself taking a moment to cradle the back curve of her skull in his hands.

The sensation of her hair against his unscarred palms prickles something in the back of his mind, the phantom feeling of an itch, and Link tries to latch onto it but it’s gone as soon as it had appeared. He breathes out slow and even and then, hesitant, begins to undo the loosened bun.

Koko stays still under his slow, uncertain hands. He can tell as he combs his fingers through her hair and gathers it all up again that he didn’t often make buns in someone’s hair, and that’s significant, he can feel the pressure of significance whispering there within sense memories he can’t quite capture, but he doesn’t know how, doesn't know what it means. It's another something which alludes him, and the harder Link tries to grasp for it the faster it slips away.

"Mister Link?" Koko asks, tilting her head back to look up at him. Link realizes that he's gone still, her undone hair still held in his hands, and he bites down a frown so that Koko doesn't think it's for her. He smiles instead, gently nudging her head back in place, and Koko huffs a quiet laugh as he carefully returns to making a bun.

The end result isn't too much better than what she had before, he finds. His unpracticed fingers, deft though they are, don't quite know what to do with handfuls of unruly hair. He carefully tucks the sticks back into it to help pin it in place anyway, and then—impulsively, nearly as thoughtless as when he had reached for her hair in the first place—Link untucks a flower from his belt and gently works its frail, limp stem into the space between the sticks. Finished, he pats Koko's shoulder once and settles back.

Koko touches the bun gingerly. A smile edges hesitantly across her face when her fingers brush over the petals of the little white flower, and she twists to beam at him. "Is that a flower?" At his nod, she turns around entirely and wraps her arms around his waist. "Thank you, Mister Link!"

Grinning now, Link hugs her back. The movement tugs lightly at his side and her pressure doesn't do much to help with the deep-seated ache there, but nothing really does and it's not so bad that he can't ignore it. She pulls away quickly after that, asking if their food is done, and Link gets back to his feet to begin dishing their meal back out of the cooking pot.

—

Something of the act of doing Koko's hair sticks with Link in the following days, even long after he leaves Kakariko village. He finds himself tugging at his ponytail in idle moments despite how reaching over his shoulder to do so tugs at the muscles in his neck and back. He fiddles with it, thoughtful, and stares into the flickering light of his camping fire, and ultimately does nothing about it.

Still, it lingers.

—

His knee hurts.

Link carries himself as far from the fallen Lizalfos as he can manage before it nearly gives out on him, so there he stops and sits harshly down on the grass. His knee throbs from where one of the Lizalfos managed to kick it from behind. A potion seals up his minor wounds, stops the bleeding of a deeper gash along his forearm, but the ache does not relent. Link fights back the desire to curl around the pain; it won't help, won't shield him from it, and there is no one around but there is also very little cover where he sits, and he needs to stay alert and wary until he can walk again.

So Link sits, and he waits, angry with himself but too tired to hold onto even that for long. His whole body feels achy and hollow with it; at least the sun blankets him, warm but not overbearing, and the cool grass beneath his fingers keeps him grounded.

There's no one around. No more Lizalfos, no Bokoblins. He thinks there might be a Korok puzzle a little ways off and decides that if he can walk before the sun sets he'll go do it. Keeping one ear tuned to the world around him, he eventually turns to his slate, plotting out a potential route to a few shrines he marked but hasn't explored, organizing his weapons, going over his food stores.

(He hates this. Hates the pain, hates his knee, hates that he needs to stop and sit in the middle of nowhere to recover from a battle which should have had been by all counts easy, hates himself for giving in when his body gives out. Hates that there's nothing he can do.

The only boon is that there is no one to witness this weakness.)

Eventually, Link catches sight of a small patch of flowers blooming to his left. Moving his knee so suddenly sends a sharp, stabbing arc of pain through it, and Link has to stop and grit his teeth through the worst of it before he can move again, but eventually he manages to sit himself beside them. They're a pale purple like the sun has burnt the color from them, the entirety of the span of petals no bigger than the pad of his thumb, and something tickles in the back of his head. It's the same something that had him tucking a flower into Koko's hair, he's certain; it's the same something that slips away when he reaches for it, the same something that comes up as nothing more than smoke and the faintest idea of... yellow, maybe.

Link doesn't know what spurs him to tug the thin strap of worn leather from his hair. His shoulders burn as he begins to comb his fingers through the messy strands, though not enough to stop him (not like his damn knee), and that burn deepens into something hotter as he slowly, clumsily begins weaving his ponytail into a braid.

It's something about hair. Something tugging—

Someone... doing his hair. Someone else doing his hair, doing what he's doing, winding it into a shorter braid than the one he's trying to make now. His hair had been shorter. The rest of the details escape him, the whos and the whats and the whys, but as his fumbling fingers slip and he has to start over again, he feels the faintest brush of a memory settling somewhere in the back of his head.

It's the most he'll get.

The act of braiding his own hair takes altogether too long, and he has to start over again when the sounds of a wild animal rustling nearby startles him into high alert, but eventually, finally, Link knots the leather tie to the end of his braid. There's no one around to help him as he plucks a few of those pale purple flowers from the grass and tucks them into his hair, no one around to watch him somehow bungle even that up and pull a whole chunk of hair from the tie. He doesn't try to redo it if only to save himself some pain, and eventually when he's done he picks up the Sheika slate and opens the camera.

He doesn't often look at himself, not in mirrors nor lakeside reflections nor the crisp, clear image of a photo from the slate. He doesn't do so this time, too; his gaze goes unfocused until he can turn his head enough to capture a better part of the braid, and he studies it for only a few moments before closing the slate and setting it back in place at his hip. A lump has formed in his throat in that brief span of time.

The braid looks wrong. Too loose and messy, barely held together by its tie. Two of the flowers are half-crushed where he gripped them too tight. It's wrong in a way he can't articulate, wrong in a way that tightens his chest, and Link yanks the tie from his hair quickly and begins shaking out the braid and the flowers. He's unsettled now, heart fluttering in his chest with uneasiness he refuses to look at closely, and it doesn't ease even after he ties his hair back into its usual ponytail.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter.

Eager to leave this behind him, Link begins the slow, painful process of stretching his knee back into a state of usefulness again.

[pocketramblr]

im going to be so fucking predictable right now but, for a prompt... how about some momnight

 I'm going to do my Very Best at this though I am very unpracticed with writing her so here we go!

---

"Alright, class. Today we're supposed to do a lesson that follows up on the interviews you did yesterday with Midnight and Mt. Lady. Which means I'm not teaching."

With that, Aizawa-sensei flopped to the ground. The thud was only slightly cushioned by the sleeping bag around him. A few students winced.

"Exactly!" Midnight said, shoving open the door. "This time, we'll be practicing a little more with cameras and a little less with talking."

Oh? The students all leaned in, curious and excited.

"We'll be practicing photo shoots! Come to studio 1-4, come on." She stepped to the side as the class got excited, and just waved Aoyama out the door when he jumped to go ask her a million questions, sparkling.

Toru was excited too, though she took more time to stand than the others. By the time she had, Yaomomo had already dragged the reluctant Jiro out of the room, and all that remained were Bakugo and Koda.

"Not going to be the last one there, I hope, Bakugo?" Midnight asked, tone of voice edging into a tease.

Bakugo grumbled about it being stupid, but he did hurry more out the door.

"And you, Koda? Nothing to be scared about, the camera doesn't bite." But their teachers sure might, if they dawdled- or interrupted anymore of Aizawa's extended naptime.

"Right!" Toru agreed, skipping to the back of the room to reach for the boy's arm. "Come on, it'll be a fun lesson! Better than a pop quiz, and maybe you'll even get to do a cute picture, like holding a bunny!"

Koda stared at her sleeve for a long moment, then finally nodded.

When they passed Midnight at the door, Toru looked up and realized the woman's smile had slipped a little; she looked thoughtful, brow furrowed behind her glasses.

The smile came back quickly though, as she tugged the door closed behind them and hurried them to the studio where the class was waiting for them.

Haya-senpai was also waiting for them, apparently. The cool girl stood in front of a group of third years by the side wall of the room, where several desks and mirrors and lights had been shoved in a row. The rest of the room was cleared out, backdrops and green screens angled around with a few stools and props.

"Alright, class 1a, before we get ready for your first shoot, there are some things to know." Midnight closed the door behind her. "You can take notes on your phone, if you want. There are several different kinds of photoshoots. What ones can you think of?"

"Ooh!" Mina waved her hand and was called on. "There's magazine photoshoots, and if you're lucky you'll be on the front page!"

"Certainly, magazine shoots. What else- Yaoyorozu?"

"Advertisements, with products?"

"Very good, you've done some of that already, haven't you? Alright, what other kinds?"

Toru waved her arm, humming so she'd be more noticed. Midnight crooked her finger at her. "Makeup? Well I guess that could be a product too, but there's also fashion shoots."

"Right on, Hagakure."

The class was quiet for a few moments, and Midnight nodded. "There's other kinds too- a headshot shoot, some hero agencies will require them for an application or their site. Portraits, lifestyle, sports, glamor, portfolio- the point is, there’s different types, and different points to each of them.”

Tsuyu raised a hand, and got a nod. “Midnight, all the different types, but don’t they boil down to either work use- like the headshots- or publicity for everything else?”

“That’s not a bad way of looking at it, Asui,” The teacher tapper her cheek as she paused, “But there’s more than that. You could also be doing it for benefit of others, either like a charity calendar photos, or perhaps even as a favor for a friend if one of them asks for a photo op.”

“And if,” Bakugo spoke up, apparently at the end of his patience for waiting for an explanation, “we don’t care about that crap? Publicity? If we haven’t got any friends who just want to take pictures of us?”

Midnight’s smile stretched, just a little, like a smirk. “Not a bad question. Anyone else think they have an answer?”

No one spoke, looking at each other, then Iida raised his hand.

“Midnight-sensei! Regardless of wanting to do publicity or charity or not, an agency may require to and all parts of a hero career should be done as exactly as one can, whether or not you want to-”

Midnight coughed. “Not bad, Iida, but not what I was thinking of. Bakugo, everyone, consider it like this. Once you become a hero- before that, even- you are going to have publicity. You are going to have paparazzi. Your photos are going to end up in ragmags no matter what you do.” She emphasized those words with a tap from her whip to her palm. “But, you can decide how you present yourself in other media. Sure, you can go way underground like Eraser. Or, you can take control of your representation. Choose your own photographers, magazines, products, vlogs, anything. That’s why you have to learn how to do these photoshoots and other media courses.” She clapped her hands, and the third years jumped. “So, we start with makeup.”

The older students waved some of her classmates forward, and Toru pushed Koda forward so he’d sit.

She found herself watching them get makeup put on, holding Iida’s glasses for him while Haya mused with his hair. Next to him, a senior was marking lines under Uraraka’s eyes to make the lashes pop.

“That looks really cute!”

“Thanks!”

“Do you mind me using a bit more foundation here?” Another senior said, poking at Midoriya. “It’s not quite even, but some of your freckles are showing through still.”

“Uhh,” Midori said, eloquently. 

The older student raised his eyebrow. 

“Um, actually, its,”

“It’s what, Midoriya?” Midnight asked, stepping from out of nowhere to peer over his shoulder at his mirror.

“It’s fine!” The makeup didn’t completely hide how red his face went.

Their teacher met his gaze in the reflection, clicking her tongue. “Come on, what did I say the point of the lesson was?”

“Um, control?” Midoriya asked, then went “Oh.”

Midnight smiled, straightening back up.

“I’d like my freckles to be- to not be covered up. Please.” Midoriya was still red, but the senior just shrugged.

“Alright. I’ll darken them with this then instead, so they actually show well under the lights and all that.”

He nodded, relaxing back in his seat, and Midnight squeezed his shoulder before moving on, nodding at Iida before looking at her.

“Hagakure, you haven’t gotten someone to start makeup yet?”

Toru shook her head- and shoulders. “No, Sensei. It’s not like I’ll show up on camera anyway, so.” She kept her voice cheerful, but her smile faltered halfway through.

It was fun to watch everyone else get dolled up and decorated... but would probably be fun if she could join them too.

Midnight stared at her, and she couldn’t read the expression before the teacher shook her head. “No, no. You’ll still have to participate and I have an idea!” She took Toru’s hand, then led her to the seat next to Uraraka.

Toru couldn’t keep the startled giggle from bubbling up as she sat.

“Midoriya,” Midnight said, riffling through the makeup on the desk, “You heard Hagakure. What do you think she could do in a photoshoot like this?”

“Hm.” Midoriya considered it, but when he answered he sounded much more confident than he had earlier. “Well, she’s invisible, but anything on her wouldn’t be. You could play with elements like dust or sparkles to suggest shape in an interesting way- oh, if you don’t mind being in your hero suit, that is.”

Midnight hummed an affirmation. “There’s a lot you and your team could do with that, and body paint is a fun medium to work with.” She paused, then leveled an eyeshadow brush at Toru like it was her whip. “Only when you’re eighteen, though. What do you think, Uraraka?”

“You could use your quirk, you know, to shine?” The brunette waved a hand. “Lighting up in different places to outline you, maybe, it’d look really cool if you had a space-y dress or something with it.”

“Oooh,” Toru had to admit that would be fun. It’d need a dark background and probably a camera without a flash or something, but it would be a picture of her, using her own quirk.

“Or like, even a space suit or something alien!”

“As long as I don’t upstage Mina!”

Midnight decided on something, then turned back with a nod, eyes sparkling. “Those are good ideas. Now, I’m going to try something with eyeshadow on you. Tell me when your eyes are closed.”

Toru closed her eyes as asked. “They are now, Midnight.”

If the point of this lesson was control, she wasn’t quite sure that this counted since she was just letting someone else do it, but Toru didn’t mind. She had a couple new ideas bouncing around for real photoshoots, in the future, and she really wanted to see what her teacher came up with.

She’d been right, this was fun.

It tickled a little, when Midnight traced eyeliner all on the sides of her face, but Toru managed to keep her face still enough. Then came brushes and colors she couldn’t see, shapes she could feel but not recognize.

Finally, the touches to her face stopped and she heard the brush clatter on the table.

“You can open your eyes now.” Midnight said, moving out of the way between the chair and the mirror. 

Toru gasped, then stood so she could lean closer to her reflection.

Her teacher had painted elaborate designs over both her eyes, branching out like butterfly wings. They shimmered with many neutral tones, light and brown and pink between the black lines. A few sparkles were touched heavier on the ends, and overall they looked beautiful.

“Oh! Guys, look!” Toru turned, and Uraraka gasped too, clapping.

“Those look so pretty!”

“Right? Thank you so much, Midnight-sensei!”

The hero laughed, waving a hand. “You’re very welcome. You’ll have to work with the photographer to decide how to model it on your own though. Speaking of...” She checked the clock on the wall. “Fifteen minutes left! Get to pictures then washing off.”

She walked off down the row again, checking on the other students, though not before she squeezed Toru’s shoulder for a second when she passed.

Toru was beaming as she asked for a senior with a camera to work with her, and she ended up with a picture of herself winking- one eye open to show the full butterfly, the other closed to show the colors swirled on the eyelid too. 

It looked pretty, and it looked fun. It felt like a perfect picture.

[fusefr]

Banner asset by Starkindler

·  A R R I V A L  ·

cw: general nasty because im a plague edgelord [finger guns] i’m also no writer so forgive my garbo prose

One foot in front of the other.

As long as he kept moving, survival was a possibility. Giving in wasn’t an option, couldn’t be, even as the swathes of gleaming hardened gem seemed to dig deeper and deeper, strangling his muscles, cutting into his skin. The caw of the birds overhead, dogging his every step forced him on.

So long as he kept--

A stumbling claw caught on a gnarled fleshy root, sending him crashing into the fetid earth. Isaiah’s vision blew white, head wringing with the sudden jolting bite of pain. He cursed, softly hissed into the ground. 

Was the Wasteland itself against him now? A struggling weakling bowing under its unyielding might? 

The will had left him, exhaustion settling in deep. He could rest, right here. The rational side of him knew it was a bad idea- more things than dragons roamed the Wastelands, and those vultures were circling now. But it was easy, so much easier to let his eyes close, wings sagging across his body.

For a moment, the pain abated. Peace.

And the someone tapped him on the head.

Isaiah cracked an eye open, face to face with pale pink eyes ringed with green on-- on the brightest creature he’d ever seen.

“Oh! Not dead, that’s excellent. You smell a little dead, but that’s not so unusual.” The tundra flashed a toothy grin, pausing only to blow an unruly flip of mane from his face.

Isaiah stared. Perhaps he was dying then, because surely this was a hallucination.

“As if you could imagine someone this handsome,” the tundra said lightly -- had he said that out loud? Mother help him. “But the dying part? Ehh... you don’t look so good.” He hesitated. “It’s... not really policy to go picking up half-dead dragons on the edge of our territory. But I saw the vultures and well. I suppose I’m too curious for my own good!”

Isaiah blinked, slow and struggling to stay conscious in the face of the beaming tundra as his words began to slur and fade in his hearing. It wasn’t a battle he could’ve won, anyway.

--

There was something soft under his head. It was the first thing that registered, a feather stuffed pillow stuck under his chin, a stray feather poking out and tickling the end of his snout-- which was wrapped carefully in white bandages. With a heaving effort, he lifted his head, let it fall heavy on his own shoulder. The rest of him was hidden under a ragged blanket, well-worn with claw holes poked in around the edges. Someone had... saved him?

The pink tundra?

The room he’d been left in was small, walls a strange mix of stone and the same fleshy earth that covered the Wasteland. Banners hung from the wall, an emblem stiched onto them by an unpracticed hand.

“Your duty is to keep people away, not to bring them in to the most hidden chambers of the clan!” Not a voice Isaiah recognised, gruff and unhappy, every word pronounced with a snarl.

“Oh yes, I should just leave him to die on our doorstep, that’s much kinder.” Ah. The pink tundra.

“If he can’t survive by himself then--”

“Do you ever get tired of sputtering that old mantra? Survival doesn’t mean withholding aid simply because.”

“...” A heavy sigh.”Don’t let them hear you say that, Rhys. You’re in trouble enough.”

Footsteps drew closer as the voices got louder. “I’m always in trouble! But Vespera insisted. It was either her, or Venom and well. Venom likes the experiment more than heal.”

The tarp strung over the doorway was pushed back, that same pink tundra peeking through, face lighting up. Behind him stood another tundra, larger, with his face pulled in a displeased grimace, coat pale yellows streaked with faded green.

“You’re awake!” chirped Rhys.

“Wonderful. Then you can explain what the hell you were doing on Gulch territory,” the other one growled, placing himself between Isaiah and Rhys.

He found himself staring again, glancing between the two. When in doubt, tell the truth, he supposed.

“...What’s a Gulch?”

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

It was truly a testament to the sheer chaos of his surroundings that he didn't realize there was a Sith present until it was too late.

Of course, his progress in using the Force to identify threats hadn't exactly progressed as far as picking out specific individuals. He'd just sort of had a constant buzz of impending danger and people with harmful intentions since he'd landed. It was a city with known Black Sun ties, after all.

Luke was just glad that his part in the mission was over. He'd made contact with a spy looking to leave the criminal organization, escorted them to the city, and kept cover even after passing them along to Rebel agents who would smuggle them offworld. Now he just needed to casually make his own getaway in a city district where everyone outside was looking at him like a potential threat or a potential target.

The "ambush" didn't catch him off-guard. For a boy who had grown up closer to Mos Eisely than he would've liked (even the other side of the planet would've been too close for most), spotting someone following him was almost second nature. So when the hulking human grabbed his shoulder from behind, Luke twisted out of his grip before he had a chance to shove his blaster into his back. He shoved the man, hard.

"Hey, I don't want any trouble," he said, in the warning tone of one who would start trouble if he found it necessary. "Just take it easy."

[[MORE]]

His attacker grinned, showing unnaturally white teeth. "Don't want any trouble? Well that's too bad, isn't it? You're trespassing on Black Sun property, kiddo. So unless you paid the toll, you're gonna have a bad time."

Luke grimaced. He'd heard better threats, in his experience. But the intent to harm rolled off this man clearly. He was probably just looking for an excuse to fight. Luke had dodged a lot of impromptu clashes between Black Sun supporters and smaller, local gangs who resented their presence. It had kept the local Imperials very busy, which had worked to Luke's advantage during the mission. But this was far less convenient.

There was a commotion down the street behind him, and the distant sound of blasterfire, but Luke ignored it when three other men joined the one harassing him. Three against one wasn't exactly good odds -- Han would tell him to forget the odds, Luke bet -- but Luke could hold his own in a gunfight. The problem was, this was much too close range. Finding cover would be difficult. And using his lightsaber here would draw the wrong kind of attention.

Luke was not eager to repeat his experiences on the smugglers' moon.

He felt a surge of warning, as if all his hair was standing on end. His chest felt tight, and he assumed it was just anxiety as he dodged the grasping hand of one of the attackers and jumped back several steps.

The four men halted so abruptly that they seemed to freeze in place. With a shaking hand, one raised a blaster and fired. But not at Luke.

The bolt streaked past Luke, high and to the left. The shooter dropped his blaster to clutch his throat, gasping. He dropped an instant later.

Luke had a bad feeling about this.

The man who had initially stopped him pointed his weapon directly at Luke's head.

"I think this guy's a Rebel!" he shouted, "Don't worry, I got 'im!"

Luke moved on instinct. In the half second between the gangster speaking and squeezing the trigger, Luke had brought his lightsaber up and into a guard position. The bolt bounced off the blade and straight back into the man's chest. He stared in disbelief at the wound for a moment, then fell.

"Your skill with the blade has improved, young Skywalker."

Luke came to the sudden, horrible realization that the Force hadn't been warning him about the gangsters. He turned slowly, too apprehensive to even think about the risks of turning his back on the other two men. Just as he'd feared, Darth Vader stood just a few meters away, with two stormtroopers.

This time, Luke wasn't going to rush in blindly the way he had on Cymoon. Not that he thought that would save him this time.

"You can blame your buddy, Kreel, for that," Luke croaked in an effort to sound defiant and not terrified.

Vader tilted his helmet slightly to one side -- a jarringly disarming gesture -- and made an unidentifiable sound. "Yes. I had hoped that he would at least further your knowledge beyond whatever dismal attempts Kenobi made."

Something cold and fearful twisted in Luke's gut. It slithered up his spine to wrap around his heart. Darth Vader...wanted him to learn lightsaber combat? But he had destroyed the Jedi! He had killed Luke's father! What was he trying to accomplish?

Vader took a step forward, and Luke stumbled a step back, despite himself. Behind him, he heard the last two men shift, and something metallic clicked. The Force swirled around him, warm in warning and yet at the same time colder than anything Luke had ever felt.

In front of him, Vader made a gesture with his hand. Behind him, there was a loud crack, and two thumps. Luke didn't have to look to know the men were dead. To his shock, the two stormtroopers with Vader dropped dead just as the gangsters did.

He killed his own men? Why?

Luke stared down at the bodies, then slowly raised his head to look at the Sith lord. He couldn't understand why he was still breathing. And then, as unexpectedly as everything else, Darth Vader spoke.

"At our first meeting," he said slowly, with no apparent need to rush, "You accused me of killing your father."

Luke remembered all too well.

"You don't even remember," he snapped, "You've killed too many fathers to know the difference."

"No."

That one word brought Luke up short. He tensed, trying to regulate his breathing with little success. His heart felt like it was going to just break out of his chest and make a run for it at this point. He raised his lightsaber with shaking hands. It wasn't much of a defense, but it was better than nothing.

With barely a twitch, Vader snatched the hilt from Luke's hand and switched off the blade. He clipped it to his belt and stepped closer.

"I spoke flippantly then, as I was not aware of your identity at the time."

There was something very dangerous in those words. An undercurrent of an old anger, and an imminent threat. Luke would have run if his feet hadn't been rooted to the spot. He tried and failed three times to speak before the words crawled out.

"Why does my identity change anything?"

As if a Sith and an Imperial would tell the truth. As if Vader wasn't about to murder him and ensure the death of another potential Jedi.

But Vader did not kill him. He was silent for three, nerve-wracking seconds before taking one final step towards Luke. He was inches away now, blocking out the fading light.

"I have killed many fathers, young one," he said in an unusually soft voice, "But not yours."

The ground seemed to fall out from under Luke's feet. Vader...hadn't killed Anakin Skywalker? He had to be lying. Because if he wasn't, then Obi-wan had been wrong. Or lying.

Without really knowing why, Luke asked shakily, "W- what do- what do you even want?"

He flinched as a hand, heavy as lead, dropped to his shoulder in an iron grip.

"To complete your training," Vader answered simply, "And to take back what is mine."

Luke stared up at him, horrified and bewildered. The Dark Side. He had to be talking about the Dark Side! Luke wouldn't turn. He couldn't! Which meant that he was probably going to die shortly.

Vader shifted and, almost tentatively, touched his other hand to Luke's forehead for an instant. "You have no reason to fear me," he said. The words sounded stiff and unpracticed, coming from him. "I do not wish to harm you. So long as you do not cause any harm in return, I can hide your existence from the emperor."

Luke trembled. If he was taken prisoner, everything he knew about the Alliance was in jeopardy. Compartmentalization protected a lot of those secrets, but he knew things about Leia most others didn't. And he didn't want Vader even speaking her name after what he'd done.

"Thought you killed Jedi," Luke managed, barely audible now.

Vader considered this, then began to walk. His grip on Luke's shoulder drew him along unwillingly and stumbling over his own feet.

"The Force is with you, young one." Vader sounded almost amused. "But you are not a Jedi yet. You do not yet understand the scope of the lies you have been told. But you will. Soon."

Luke had a very bad feeling about this.

[gwoongi]

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (1)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 6793

You just wanted humanity to survive.

warnings: violence, swearing, sexual content, gore and blood, death, taboo themes, drug and alcohol use

a/n: hi!! this has been in the works for literally. a year. maybe even longer. it has caused me so much pain and stress + im so happy to be putting her out into the world!!!!! thank you for all your endless support and i hope u all like this fic!!!!!!! :D ((it is a revised version of my older “the last of us” fic on cosykims!)) 

[ Moodboard || Playlist ]

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

“...city centre is now closed until further notice, after a bomb was detected near the subway station at 3:45pm. Reports say that the bomb was not a hoax, and was indeed planted there by foreign intel…”

“After three major bomb alerts in cities across the country, the senator has released a statement saying the following: Relations with foreign powers are continuing to get worse. Bombs are being planted around our country, and the threat of nuclear war is among us. Currently there are no dramatic changes, but our channel will keep everybody within the area notified.”

“...I repeat, this is not a drill. North Korea have finally declared nuclear war on the western hemisphere, challenging other powers to ready their weapons and start to fight. Curfew is now under way, and everybody must report to nearby shelters in the case of an emergency. May God be with you all.”

“...thanks, Janet. What we are seeing here is the aftermath of what appears to be catastrophic damage done by a foreign bomb in New York City. Thousands of people are suspected to be dead and bombs are still being detected in the radar. This is no longer a fantasy - this is the reality of our country. God Bless America.”

“...months after the fighting has ceased across the Globe, the Government have set up control areas to prevent the possibility of an infection, of which was caused by the toxic chemicals of the bombs dropped just three months ago. Citizens are to be evacuated within three miles of controlled areas and gas masks are being supplied to everybody South of Nebraska….”

“...what appears to be a virus has spread throughout controlled quarantines this evening. Reports from the state suggest that the word ‘zombie’ might fit the description of this virus. This is not a joke, I repeat, we are dealing with a nationwide crisis here. Everybody is to stay within their homes.”

“...the world is ending….hundreds and thousands of people are expected to fall to the virus caused by the aftermath of war...flesh-eating zombies….may God be with us all….oh God...oh God!”

Three Years In 01:12am.

Contrary to popular belief, there were many good things about the apocalypse. One, you wagered, was the fact that there was barely any pollution in the air; in fact, on an evening, you could see the whole galaxy without a telescope, breathing in the life of speckles of white, shooting ivories and the smile of a lonely moon. Two, there were no official rules to life. Unlike life before, no human is illegal, now. Border control is non-existent, and immigration and tax and how much money you’re going to make come payday is no longer important to anybody still alive. And three, if you were lucky, it was always silent.

Before, you used to sneer at silence. The way it mocked you, and humiliated you after a high-school presentation, or after the punchline of a joke. The way the silence slowly picked at your bones and flesh in the attic bedroom of your grandparents’ bungalow in the northern part of the city, secluded in mountains and barren trees; the silence laughing at the way you stared out that small box window, praying for a miracle to make noise. 

But now, silence is your new best friend. Silence indicates that nothing is near, and danger is less likely. It heightens every sense, and keeps you awake at night. Against any loyal survivor or camp-member, you valued silence as the number one ally.

Sniffing once, you caught your nose running, stepping over a large pile of rubble that had fallen from the roof of the warehouse you were currently based in. Careful to not awaken any of your fellow campers, you made your way towards the large wire fence, pulling a cable tie around the sliced wire to tie it together - an unpractical reinforcement, although quieter than chains. And as designated leader of the camp, you admit that it’s hard to keep everybody sane and grounded. Safety was of paramount importance, but you can’t fake it. You can’t lie to your campers by saying everything is safe. Because nothing is safe anymore.

Scraping scrap metal across the tarmac, the distant sound of boots made you glance up, noticing the familiar scuff of red leather and you turned away, not having to look up to know it’s the new guy, Kim Taehyung.

“Need any help?” his voice called across the loud silence, his fingers toying with a loose strand of polyester attached to his jacket.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, fiddling still with the ties around the looped chain.

Taehyung moved forward anyway, indifferent about the tense tone of your voice. He missed the hint entirely, coming closer when all you want is for him to go away. “It doesn’t look like you’ve got it. Here, I’ll hold the fence.”

You flinched when he appeared by your side, your face meeting his helpful gaze with a sharp glare. Regardless, you sighed loudly and relaxed, letting him hold the fence in place as you wrapped around the cable tie, clamping it closed before moving to the next hole created by cutters.

“Are you always this pushy?” you asked, avoiding his stare as you worked to close all the possible entrances (and exits).

“I just wanted to help,” Taehyung confessed quietly. “I felt pointless in there, not falling asleep. Plus, Jiyong snores. I wanted some peace and quiet.”

At that, you scoffed and smile. “Well, I can believe that. He’s always been a snorer, ever since high-school.”

Taehyung made a noise of acknowledgement, finally accepting defeat and crouching quietly beside you, wordless but inquisitive. It had only been three days since he joined the camp by chance; he was one of the lucky ones who approached your camp and made it inside. A law you lived by, inside your cluttered and hazy and scared brain, was that you never accepted outsiders into the camp. Sticking by friends you’ve known and trusted for years seemed safer than blindly trusting someone you had never met before. But, as Seunghyun pointed the sniper rifle at his tuft of brown hair hanging on his forehead, Yena had bounced down from the watch-tower with wide eyes - “he needs a Doctor, Y/N. He’s bleeding from his knee. We have the supplies, we can save his life.”

You just wanted humanity to survive.

And so the gates opened and he lay down on a medical bed inside the warehouse, and Yena and Jisoo helped patch up his wounds. Now, here he is; lingering in the shadows of the warehouse, limping across the length of the grounds, begging for jobs to keep himself occupied.

“You work a lot,” Taehyung noted. “I never see you sleep at night. Insomnia?”

“One person always stays on guard during the night,” you explain, tugging at the wire to make sure it holds. “I volunteer because there’s always something that needs to be done around here. If you think you’re safe, you’re wrong. Nobody else wants to do it, so I will. Just to keep myself busy, mainly.”

Taehyung nodded. “I get that. Before I came here, I just walked. I never stopped walking from where I was, constantly looking for somewhere safe to go.”

“Ain’t that the way,” you replied. With nothing left to do with the fence, you eventually turned to look at him, staring at his face outlined by the dim gas-lighter by the door to the warehouse. “You been on your own for a while?”

“No,” he answered, hesitantly. “I was with my sister when the virus first broke out. We were both at NYU. We got separated in the manic and I joined a small group of science students on their way to find a cure. Clearly, that didn’t work out. I figured it was safer on my own, you know? I had no idea where she went. So, I walked.”

“And your leg?” you asked, looking at his knee, still wrapped in soaked bandages. “You got hurt pretty bad, huh? Biter get you?”

“Unfortunately not. I got jumped by a couple bandits on my way here. I got away when a few walkers came by, but barely escaped. Then, I came here.”

You stood up as he spoke, him following your every move like a mirror. “‘Walkers.’ You can tell you’re from New York.”

Moving away from Taehyung, your feet take you to the mid-height fence near the drop towards the forest, a view overlooking the tops of tall trees, a spiralling path faded by fog and the familiar outline of a deserted city near the horizon. Kicking the fence gently, it stays in place, requiring no fortifications or attention. Nothing could climb the steep drop beneath it. Resting your elbows on the beach wood of the fence, you rest your weight and stare towards the city, analysing the corners of each building, jagged lines like a maths puzzle.

“While I was getting patched up,” Taehyung began, after a long moment of serene silence, “Jisoo told me that you guys go out on trips, hunts in cities. How many have you covered?”

“Only one,” you replied, nodding in the direction of the city in front of you. “That’s Denver. It’s so large that we barely covered a third of it in the two years we’ve been here. We planned to keep moving, but we had some...complications along the way. We got trapped up here. Every week we send out a group to scavenge the cities, find whatever we can to prepare us for travels. And last week, Jiyong’s pick-up truck ran out of gas for good, so anything we can find to help get that back and running would be great.”

Taehyung nodded with understanding, picking at the dry skin around his bitten-down fingernails. “I hear it’s in a few days. Shouldn’t you be asleep, resting for it?”

“I can’t sleep,” you said quietly. “Not anymore. And it’s like I said, there’s always shit that needs to be done. The drive to the city is around half hour, I can catch some z’s on the way there and between shifts. Why so curious, anyway? You coming with us, or something?”

He shrugged. “Can I?”

“Have you got anything better to do?” you retort, and he smiles slightly, looking down. “I hear you’re a good runner. We could use the extra legs and arms. If your knee’s up to it, course.”

Gratefully, he nodded with acceptance. “Come to think of it, your group is quite small. Has it always been this selective?”

As the words left his lips, Taehyung felt himself regret that sentence, noticing the way you tensed next to him, hands pausing in their movement of toying a blade of grass that hugged the fence post.

“I’m sorry. That was rude-”

“There were others,” you replied tensely, your demeanour changed instantly. “But like all other groups, we lost people along the way. Good people. Kind and loving people. In a world where life is so short, I can’t afford to lose anybody else.”

You clapped his shoulder roughly, “you’re new, Taehyung, and I don't expect you to understand. But we’re a family here, and the safety of the group is essential. You’re gonna lose people along the way but…”

Your voice trailed off, and Taehyung looked up. He got it. You didn’t have to continue speaking for him to put the pieces together.

Two Days Later. 08:19am.

The lively sound of a rumbling engine stirred Taehyung awake, the noise travelling from the square all the way to the South-Wing, painted in yellow as ‘Zone S’. S for sleep, or S for safety, Taehyung couldn’t quite decipher.

Sitting on the rectangle straw-sheet, he slipped on his socks and signature ruby leather boots, carrying his jacket over his arms as he left the zone and moved towards the square, where the sun bled out onto the dusty tarmac, a glimmer of glittering light causing him to squint as he crossed the width of the kitchen. He smiled at Yena, the youngest in the group, only eighteen amongst middle-aged outcasts, and passed her at the table, ignoring her wavering stare.

“Taehyung. Good morning.”

He forced himself to smile over at Taekwoon, only slightly intimidated by the size of his muscles behind a grey sleeved tee, and the way he effortlessly lifted a duffel bag filled with weapons into the trunk of the Subaru. Taekwoon looked over gently, in an effort not to afraid the newbie, and then he shut the boot of the car and approached him.

“You coming on our trip today?” he asked, and Taehyung nodded.

“Did you clear it with Y/N?”

“Yes,” he replied surely. “She invited me.”

Taekwoon smiled mockingly, laughing out of his nose. “Right. Sure she did.”

Taehyung blinked, unfamiliar. “Where is Y/N? Isn’t she coming with us?”

“Yeah. Protocol around here is similar to certain armies,” Taekwoon explained lamely. “The leader always helps out on missions. Hey, she’s nothing like that old guy out of Wonder Woman, I’ll tell you that.”

“Y/N is the leader?” Taehyung asked dumbly.

Taekwoon turned then, resting a hand upon the hot black exterior of the car. “Does that shock you?”

“Kinda. She looks so…”

He didn’t continue, but Taekwoon nodded in understanding. “We get it. But without her, none of us would be here. I couldn’t think of anyone better leading us. Well, I mean, I’d proper love a Rick Grimes around here, but you can’t have everything. Jiyong and Seunghyun are technically leaders, too, but we just say Y/N is to deprive them the satisfaction of feeling powerful.”

From behind him, the short sound of footsteps made Taehyung turn, meeting your gaze halfway as you briskly passed him, cheeks clammy, freckles on display. He’d never noticed them before. At your entry, the group of hunters gathered around the bonnet of the car as you spread a map down on it with a short slap, a dying red Sharpie in your hand, circling the next part of the city.

“Last week we went to this section, so try and focus on these areas today,” you explained, waiting for Taehyung to shift into a position where he could see the map carefully. “Denver was one of the worst hit cities, so we could either be lucky and find bodies, or unlucky and find biters. Either way, try and avoid making sound. We have the radios and walkies in-case we get into any sort of trouble. If we lose signal, meet at the car before sunset. Remember - don’t risk your life if one of us doesn’t arrive on time. Give it five minutes after the sun begins to disappear, and if we’re not here, go on ahead. We can’t sacrifice our supplies for the sake of one man. It’s harsh, and we go through this every time, but I’m making it clear to the fresh meat.”

Everybody, minus Taehyung and his bewildered expression, nodded with understanding, a quiet murmur overpowering the groan of the dead hanging in the shadows of the forest surrounding the warehouse.

“Is there anything anybody wants to ask for before we head onto the road?” Jiyong asked, his voice in the same usual volume- quieter than a shout, slightly louder than a whisper.

“Gas is a priority,” Taehyung suggested, remembering the conversation about the useless pick-up truck sitting in the back near the barrens.

Taekwoon nodded, “we need gas for the truck, and in-case our getaway vehicle runs out unexpectedly. We’re on our last few drops.”

“The usual, I’d expect. Food is obvious, water, clean water. Clothes, or batteries would be great, too. Never skip over a store because it looks empty,” Doyoung, Yena’s brother and the best shooter within the group aside from Seunghyun, said, looking at Taehyung all the while. “Pharmacy's look emptied, but there’s always the office near the back that’s filled with extra medicine. The keys are usually on a staff member who’s lurking or dead. You have materials that can pick the lock.”

“How do you know that for sure?” Taehyung asked, meanwhile the rest of the group readied the truck. You stayed near Taehyung, eager to hear what he had to say.

“I used to work at my Dad’s pharmacy before shit hit the fan,” Doyoung shrugged. “I know my way around a pharmacy, is all.”

Having little else to do, Taehyung simply nodded and stood still, waiting for the group to finish setting up the car, with Taekwoon riding his motorcycle near the front like a Police escort.

“Ready?” you asked, stopping by his side as the group hollered for everybody to get inside. Yena hurried out towards the gate, hanging by the loose chain ready to open it up. Taehyung sucked in a breath quietly, and looked at you with as much optimism as he could. It came out falsely, but you appreciated his efforts.

“Not really. Will I ever be?”

You didn’t know how to answer that. No response was good.

The city was unusually quiet.

Beside you, in the back of the car, Taehyung stared silently at the scenery as it rolled past, just as the car crossed into the city’s territory. Immediately, he could see the stark contrast between the wilderness and the madness; a concrete jungle, overpowered by lush green and forest ferns, weeds that turreted as high as traffic lights snaking up the drains of apartment complexes, tufts of cloth dancing in the breeze. Despite the damage from nuclear destruction, Taehyung was surprised that nature could take over so quickly. He stared in silence at the sight of rusted vehicles abandoned in the streets, decorated with blood red graffiti, the walls of buildings reading “DEAD INSIDE” or “KEEP OUT”, neither better than the other. As the car crossed through an intersection, down one of the streets, water had eroded the roads; murky green water bouncing off the heavy sunlight creating patterns on the brickwork, faded and dressed in dark ivy.

“Reminds me of Chernobyl,” Taehyung commented on the way there.

As the car pulled up in a relatively deserted section of the city, Jiyong switched off the gas and hopped out instantly, wasting zero time. Taehyung clambered out afterwards, holding open the door as you climbed out after him, nodding as a thank-you, already familiarising yourself with the silence.

Taekwoon began to hand out weapons from the duffel bag in the boot as you stared in all directions, analysing pathways and gaps between buildings. Craning upwards, the canopy of unstable concrete, the decaying body of two large towers collided together, made you feel uneasy, and you turned back towards the group, gladly taking a pistol and extra ammunition.

“Remember the rules,” you reminded. “Stay in your partners. Taekwoon and Doyoung, go North. Jiyong, Seunghyun, go West. Jisoo, you’re okay to go South, yes? I’ll take the newbie with me East.”

Jisoo nodded, loading her gun. “I don’t need a man to slow me down.”

“Just be careful,” you warned, happy to see her confident going alone. Taehyung shifted from foot to foot, shakily taking a pistol from the bottom of the bag and following behind you as you moved towards the East direction, towards the fallen ruins of Denver city.

After some minutes of silence, Taehyung spoke up: “where are we going?”

“Further into the city,” you replied, not missing a beat. “Most of the stores close to the square have been checked already. But the ones further in the city are more likely to stay in tact. Nobody comes in here unless they want to die. Thankfully, it seems quiet today.”

“We got lucky, then,” he decided.

“I hope you’re right.”

A few more minutes in, and Taehyung felt himself cower at the sight of more skyscrapers leaning together, debris falling from the sky and landing in tufts near his feet. He ignored the stained blood from feet as he crossed a gravel pathway, near a sectioned off waterpool barricaded by old cars. Distracting himself, Taehyung invested his attention towards yourself, watching cautiously as you fiddled with buttons on the small radio you picked up along the way.

“Should you really be using that out in the open?”

You paused, scoffing slightly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I believe you, but, that’s making noise.”

“What about it?”

Taehyung narrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Noise attracts walkers.”

With a final sigh, you turned to him over your shoulder. “You’re going to attract ‘walkers’ in a minute. Just...keep your voice down, yeah? The radio is our only way to communicate with those outside our group. It’s either this, or walking straight into death. You want that?”

“Obviously not,” he replied.

Opting to keep you happy, Taehyung didn’t say anything else. Instead, he followed your heels closely, muttering soft thanks when you lifted up a beam for him to duck under, or pointed out a hole of muddy water that was probably contaminated. In his ears, he listened for the sound of something - anything - to come through on the radio, when a voice cut through the radio static.

“...nothing left. I’m leaving the city, with as many people as I can. We have to leave people behind, but...they’re in no position to travel. Alby is sick, and Jaena’s leg is infected. We don’t have much time left…”

Taehyung moved closer to you, and you positioned the radio so he could hear.

“There’s nothing left for anybody in City Ten. Bandits and hunters come to scavenge stores but there’s nothing we can do about it. We gathered all the medical supplies in our store room in Block 18. Fuck, I don’t know what building we are in, but we can see the large building that towers over all others from our window. Tommy came in saying he has everything ready for us to go. We’re heading North, towards Washington. Some survivors said there was a group of student scientists there with a bunch of NASA officials, working on a cure. They’re calling Washington the safe zone, or something, I can’t remember. Denver is empty.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t be here,” Taehyung said in a low voice, and you looked at him briefly before looking back at the radio, as if it would do something visual.

The voice continued breathily: “If you’re still in the city...if anybody even still listens to me, you need to get out. You need to head to-” she paused over the line. “Fuck, they’re here. I hear them.” Her voice got quieter, breathier, like a whisper. You decided to continue on foot next to Taehyung, waiting for her voice to come back through the line. For what felt like eternity, she made no response.

Taehyung heaved himself up over an abandoned car, extending a hand down to you to help pull you up. Climbing up after him, you snatched your hand away when you realised he was still holding onto you, brushing your hand on your jeans and jumping down from the car back onto the floor.

“Hey, Y/N, how about we head over--”

Abruptly, the woman’s voice cut back in through the silence. “Oh fuck! Oh my god, they k-killed him. They killed him, oh my God, they’re coming back for me, stop! Leave me alone!”

Her screams were screeching, loud enough to shatter glass. Taehyung immediately fumbled for the volume, hissing when the radio continued to scream out into the silence of the city. As quickly as her screams became deafening, they became deaf, fallen silent, only static replacing her noises. As if overcome with fear, you toss the radio to the side, causing it to smash into pieces.

“What are you doing?” Taehyung exclaimed suddenly.

“I don’t wanna hear that,” you replied, shaking your head furiously. “Come on, let’s keep going. We’ve already wasted time listening.”

“She’s in trouble,” Taehyung continued, nonetheless following you. “We could try and find her, and help her.”

You smiled bitterly, hiking towards the nearest convenience store at the ground of a large high-rise building, slanted and glass-covered. “Taehyung, you’re sweet. Really, and I so like that about you. You’re a good asset to the team, and I want to keep it that way. But, we can’t afford to save her. By the sounds of things, she didn’t make it.”

“You don’t know that.”

Pausing to observe a blood-covered metal bat rolling back and forth by the open door to the store, you crouch to pick it up and swing it back and forth. “You’re right, I don’t. But I care more about our survival than hers.”

Behind you, he scoffed and shook his head. “You’re heartless.”

“No, I’m realistic,” you counter, holding the door open for him and handing him the metal bat. He caught it with a breath of air. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you about it. We can discuss it back at camp. For now, we have to look in the area and find somewhere to scavenge. This’ll do for the moment. Take the chemist and the clothes, I’ll scan the aisles for food if there is any. If you see bottled water, please get some.”

Taehyung reluctantly sighed, following you through the door and flinching when his boots crunched shards of broken glass on the floor. Shuffling into place, Taehyung scanned the room with a somber expression; the shelves near the door had been stripped clean, with only crumbs and stains marking the off-white colours, faded neons screaming nursery rhymes as he approached the first aisle. To his delight, or more so relief, he noticed food still on the shelves towards the back of the store, and he moved his gaze towards the right side of the store, where a hanging light, swinging to and fro with a daunting creak, read “Clothing”, where a neon should have bled out into cyans and magentas.

“Take half an hour?” you suggested, tossing him a spare flashlight from your backpack. “Meet back here if you can’t find anything useful. Take what we need, not what you want. I mean, clothing is preference, but- you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he replied, sounding almost indifferent. “I know. Be careful.”

To that, you smiled. “You too.”

Waiting until Taehyung had shuffled into the shadows of the clothes department, somewhat near to the flickering blue glow of the chemist desk, you gulped and retreated towards the far shelf, crouching to pack in a can of beans and some soup, close to expiry but good enough to salvage. By the end of the search, your bag was near enough filled to the brim; you had plenty of food, and lighters to aid Jiyong’s bad smoking habit, alongside a pack of cigarettes you found at the back of the shelf next to some ammunition and a discarded wallet. A pack of batteries lay like a ripe cherry in a bunch of rotten ones, and you barely wedged it into the front pocket of your bag. Feeling successful, you swung the backpack onto your shoulders and rose from your crouch behind the shelves.

Poking your head over the stacks, the sound of Taehyung dragging clothes across the rails puts your mind at ease, distracting you from the low hum of the undead, which, as if it were possible, seemed to get louder and louder. Probably paranoia, you guessed, minding your own business as you approached the counter looking into the bakery. You stared sadly at the moulded breads and pastries, eyeing them with a new hunger. If you remembered hard enough, you could remember visiting a store just like this one and buying fish at the market, and then buying a custard cake at the bakery with your college friends.

At that thought, you looked away, leaning over the counter to eye the floor, messed with flour and footprints dotted with red shuffling towards the kitchen, where silence screamed out. You took a guess that the red wasn’t your ordinary jam, and you gulped, sadly imagining who the unlucky victim was. Shrugging off those thoughts, you prepared to pick yourself back up onto your feet when a loud shuffle made you freeze in all movement.

Please be Taehyung.

Turning around slowly, you held your breath calmly, facing the store. As you turned to look to your left, the sight of a biter hovering near the glass doorway to the side-store made a chill run up the length of your body. You did nothing. It simply stared.

Perhaps if you moved slowly, it wouldn’t see you. Albeit wishful thinking, it seemed better than nothing at this point. It stood there dauntingly, shaking from side to side with a tremor, lips torn apart and skin ripped, maggots clinging to the rotten flesh. It let out a snarl, teeth curling and stirring creamy foam out of its mouth, fingers curled like dinosaur claws. As it waited, you turned fully, hands spread flat on the counter of the desk, observing all possible exits.

There was the safe route; towards Taehyung where he could help you take out the biter coming after you. There was the risky route; straight back towards the door, where noise would attract both the biter and Taehyung anyway. Or there was the stupid route; towards the biter, ready for attack.

Thankfully, you’d seen zombie movies enough times to know that running towards the biter almost always got you killed. Instead, you moved slowly, almost unmoving entirely. The biter stayed in place, biting air, snarling at the wind. Walking as quietly as you could, you edged towards the clothing section to find Taehyung, already somewhat comforted by the continuous sound of him dragging hangers across the rails. Every step was taken without breath; afraid that even blinking would send it into a frenzy, silence was of new paramount importance.

Inching further towards Taehyung, you flinched violently when the biter growled loudly, making enough noise to pull Taehyung’s head out of the clothing racks, bag practically stuff with clothes he basically didn’t really need. When the noise was followed by silence, he gripped his bat handle tighter and dropped his backpack to the tiles with a soft thud. Taehyung moved slowly towards the open archway separating the clothes to the foods, taking his time looking at the way the lights flickered, and the sound of the wind getting caught in the tiny cracks in the window-panes.

“Y/N?” he called, unaware. His grip tightened on the bat when nothing responded, only a murmur, a groan that sounded guttural. “Y/N?”

Approaching the arch, he turned into the main foyer of the store and froze in place when he saw you; standing like a statue by the counter, facing him with eyes wide. Without saying words, he seemed to know what to do - he looked back and forth between yourself and the biter, staring at the way it swayed from side to side, occasionally jolting as if having a seizure. Looking back at you, he paused when you held your hands in front of you, as if warning him to stay away.

“Don’t move,” you mouthed, afraid of a whisper being too loud.

He nodded, although you barely caught it. “What do we do?” he mouthed back.

Catching your breath quietly, you began to move slowly towards him, dragging your feet across the tiles wiped with tomato coloured red. Taehyung held out his hands invitingly, bat still pointed outwards, shaking slightly. He couldn’t pinpoint whether it was nerves, or fear, but either one drove his hands further outwards, taking small steps of his own towards you, quiet in an effort to not distract unwanted attention.

“That’s it,” he whispered, the smallest of whispers, waving his hands slowly in circles. “Slowly…”

The taste of blood swam through your mouth as your teeth sank down onto the inside of your lip, hands shaking violently as you steadily stepped towards your partner. Closer than breath, he was steps away, when your foot came down on shards of cloudy glass.

It ripped through the silence like a cough in Church.

The biter jolted with a high-pitched scream, too loud for you to turn around to check its expression. Taehyung stared over your shoulder at the way it broke out of a trance, screeching loudly at the sight of sounds. Time was running out; Taehyung yelled your name loudly, causing you to hurry towards him to grab his hand extended outward. As you skidded past his legs, his voice rang in your ears, lips brushing your hair: “Outside! Now!”

Grabbing his bag discarded on the floor, Taehyung swung it over his shoulders as you hurried ahead, ducking through a broken window. With impatience, Taehyung pushed you out, hands on your upper-back thigh, cradling you as you jumped out the hole and onto the road. He barely made it out, tugging at the thin material of your sleeve and dragging you out into the dust on the road. From behind both of you, the doors separating the biter and the store smashed open, alerting at least a dozen others lingering nearby in the dusty shadows.

They were newly infected, still grasping on to whatever shreds of humanity they had left. Running fast, screams loud, hands still rotting the flesh away; the biters ran from behind you down the road, screaming with every step, nudging you both further down the large road to nowhere. You weren’t even sure if this was the way you came; all you seemed focused on was the sight of Taehyung’s feet leaving you behind in a cloud of dust. He was faster than you had anticipated, but, with experience, you endured the heat of the panic and gravitated towards his side.

“Y/N-” he began, looking at you with a breathless expression.

“Don’t talk!” you screamed in reply, pulling at his arm. “Just fucking run!”

Passing identical buildings, acting like copied and pasted images, it was hard to deny that you were exhausted. At one point, it felt like Taehyung was dragging your weight, your legs too tired to hurry along after his frame. The cries of hunger and agony from the biters behind you increased in volume, filling the atmosphere with a heaviness. If the group were close, they had heard the noises and thought better than sticking around.

“Turn! Here, here, here, here, don’t fucking stop running!” screamed your voice over the chaos, pushing Taehyung by his shirt towards a small and narrow alleyway between two smaller stores; a ladder, enclosed by a bar painted an ebony black, smiled in the darkness, and Taehyung thankfully ran towards it without hesitation. The sharp turn caught the mob off-guard, sending them skidding across the road.

Taehyung began to climb up the ladder, and you swiftly followed, veins pumping with fear and adrenaline, hands shivering as you climbed from step to step, height to height. A biter lunged for your boot, sinking its teeth into the heel and you kicked it in the jaw, a growl emerging from its torn jaw as it collapsed back into the hoard.

Finally reaching the top of the roof, you heaved yourself up over the low brick wall, physically feeling the exhaustion in your arms, a dampness under your armpits. Landing with a thud on top of Taehyung, a breath of hot hair released from your lips, strands of hair sticking to your forehead like cake mixture to a bowl. Both of your breaths were in sync; Taehyung lay beneath you, unmoving for the several moments of gathering breath, with the shakiness of his hands vibrating against your waist.

When the reality of lying on top of Taehyung sank in, you shuddered and lifted yourself up off his stomach, your palms scratching on the scorching hot roof. Behind you, Taehyung lifts himself up off the floor, leaning over the side of the wall to peer down at the biters below. Groans fill the air as he spots biters learning how to climb the ladder, and he gulps, saliva hot and solid moving down his dry throat.

“That was fucking insane,” he hissed, turning to you sharply as you pace in ovals on the roof. “What happened down there?”

“Biter came up on me,” you muttered, “didn’t hear it until it was too late.”

The biters congregated down below, a loud compilation of groans becoming disheartening as you fail to come up with a solution to this incredibly difficult problem. Taehyung jerks himself away from the wall, crouching to his backpack to take a swig of water he was planning to save until later. You turn halfway, thankfully taking a sip of the water he hands to you once he swallowed.

“What do we do now?” Taehyung asks, hands on his knees. He’s hunched over. “The group leaves at sundown. Will they wait?”

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head and shove the water back into his hands. “No. It’s the rules.”

“Fuck the rules,” he replies. “We’re a team.”

“Yeah, but we’ve worked this way for a while now. We won’t change just because you arrived to the group.”

Taehyung scoffed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Letting out a sigh, you pace back towards the wall overlooking the city. “It’s not ideal, I know. But if the group wait a second longer and lose their supplies to bandits or biters...it would be a waste of time. Our group are already vulnerable back at camp. We don’t wanna leave people behind. If you can help, do it, but we’re on a roof in the middle of the city and there’s no way in hell we can make it back in time without leaving right now.”

With nothing useful to say, Taehyung let his body drop with a thud on the floor, a cloud of dust circling his thighs as his bag dragged against the side of the wall. Above, the sky transitioned into auburn colours, clouds moving faster than smoke rising out a chimney, carried by the wind towards the direction of the camp. The sound of cicadas and the haunting birdsong, and the constant groan of death, was all to be heard as you clenched your outstretched hands into small balls, cursing the air with your gaze cast downwards; it eventually fell on the sight of a rusted, and unstable balcony a few stories below, a scrap of magenta cloth clinging to the corners, broken glass twinkling in the light.

As time moved, and hours rolled by, Taehyung had napped twice and your eyes would not move from the sight of the balcony, analysing each pattern and grid and rusted area, calculating jumps and falls and possible scenarios in your brain. Eventually, when the sky had darkened with rain clouds and night, the sun dipped behind a large storey building. Maybe the group would wait for you.

Maybe they’d think differently because you were their leader. Or maybe they didn’t need you.

With a fright, Taehyung jumped when you spun around to him, crouched on your knees with an urgent voice. “I have one plan, and if this plan fails, we are doomed.”

“Sounds promising,” he commented, without giving a plan of his own. Taehyung rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm.

“There’s a balcony,” you explained, moving across the roof to show him, pointing down at the brown painted overhang. He nodded with understanding, “it obviously goes into a room. We could sneak through the building and come out through the front. The herd are around the back, or in the alley, and the ones up front are too tired to react in time. We use that time to run back towards the truck. The group might have stayed behind for us, but if not, we can try to see if any of the cars around the area are salvageable. If all fails...we could camp in a building for the night. Start walking to camp. We’d be there in a day, or two.”

Taehyung stood quietly, thinking.

“It’s risky,” you considered, looking at him, bottom lip between top teeth. “But it’s the only plan I have.”

“It’s the only plan we have,” Taehyung replied. “I couldn’t think of anything better. Are you okay to run?”

Nodding your head, you adjusted the straps of your backpack, tightening it so it would manage the drop in silence. Taehyung hesitated, watching you climb over the half-wall and settle to sit, your legs hanging over the side above the short, nonetheless intimidating drop to the balcony. Quickly, however, he followed; Taehyung heaved himself up next to you, watching nervously as you pushed forward and back, with inner conflict.

“Ready?” he asked, gently, without demand.

Without talking, you pushed.

NEXT CHAPTER.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Miraculous Ladybug au: Brokenhearted Part 2

(Part 1) (Enjoy the heart wrenching part 2)

“I am surprised how intricate and yet unpractical some of those designs were back then. Wasn't it impressive Marinette?” The teal tipped hair musician commented as he and his black haired girlfriend walked out of the museum.

“Yea...”  Marinette said despondently, her mind was clearly somewhere else. The musician was able to tell.

“I was hoping that the victorian era fashion exhibit would be able to cheer you up.” He said with a soft sigh. 

Marinette looked at her boyfriends fading smile and felt horrible for being so disinterested.

“No, Luka its not that. The exhibit was really cool.” Marinette assured. “I... I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Its about Adrien.” Luka stated instead of guessing. He knew that the blond teen model was on her mind. He had been aware of her crush on him, he also knew that she had said she had given up on pursuing him romantically. She would mention him in passing when talking about school or her friends, but aside from that he hardly heard about him. 

“He got taken out of school. Its been over a week since it happened.” Marinette explained. “Nino is especially devastated. His dad has him on lock down.”

Luka felt bad for assuming that it had anything to do with romantic feelings. These thoughts were the concerns of someone who missed her friend.

“Thats terrible. Is he able to at least text or...” Luka inquired.

“No, total lockdown. Nino said that if his dad even saw anyone from his class show up at his gate, he will send Adrien to America.” Marinette’s worry was clearly present, she didn't want her friend shipped off to another country. 

Luka placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“I am sure it isn't as bad as it seems. In fact, Ill go talk to Adrien. See if I can find out any details.” Luka assured.

“But his dad will...”

“I am not from his class, or yours. As far as Mr. Agreste is concerned, I don't exist. Don't worry about it Mari.” He smiled as he assured his girlfriend that he has a handle on the situation.

She smiled and kissed his cheek.

“You are the best.”

_______________________________________________________________________

The blond teen had finished his lessons for the day and was laying on his bed, he was reading a book that he hadn't touched in years. Honestly trying anything and everything to avoid thinking about his life seemed like the best solution.

He heard a knock on the window. He didn't know what to expect as he sat up from his bed and walked to the window in his bathroom, there he saw what appeared to be a familiar face smiling at him. It was Luka, Marinette’s boyfriend.

“Hey Adrien. Could you open the window? I don't think I can hold on much longer.” The musician asked as he held on to the window seal. 

Adrien quickly helped the boy in to help him not fall to his death.

“How the heck did you get up here?” Adrien asked. “Im on the second floor.”

Luka placed his hand on his chin as he was about to say something. Adrien had noticed a familiar ring on his finger deciding it would be better to cut him off there..

“You know what, its better if I don't know.” Adrien interrupted. “Better question, why are you here?”

“I heard about what happened. It isn't cool that your dad has you locked up in here. I wanted to find out if there was a way that you can get free somehow” Luka explained.

Adrien turned away from the musician. More focused on the fact that Luka was now holding his miraculous. Even though he knew Marinette was ladybug, he didn't actually expect her to take his suggestion so seriously. Seeing it now, was more of a slap to the face then anything else. Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Someone out there must really like making him suffer.

“There is no getting out of this Luka.” Adrien spoke, his words having an unexpected bite to them.

“Aren't you going to at least try? You need to stand up to your dad. Don't your friends matter?” Luka asked, his concern and frustration pushing out of his normally calm persona.

Adrien wanted him to leave, he didn't want this conversation, not with him of all people.

“I am surprised you would want to help the guy who kissed your girlfriend to be free.” Adrien stated with an unnerving calm tone.

“Excuse me?” Luka asked, clearly confused by his words. “What did you say?”

Adrien turned around looking Luka in the eye.

“A few weeks ago, I kissed Marinette. I am surprised she didn't tell you.” Adrien restated, now with much more venom. His tone and words coming off as something he would normally describe as ‘Chloé-like’.

“That isn't... you are just trying to get me mad aren't you?” Luka rationalized.

“You are very astute, I guess that is why you are such a good boyfriend. But I wouldn't lie just to spite you. It isn't my style to lie.” Adrien answered.

Luka turned away from Adrien.

“I know we weren't best friends, but you are different then the Adrien I know. I know that this isn't you. Is it because of what your dad did that is making you like this?”

Adrien shook his head.

“You know, I thought that my worst fear would be being locked away in this mansion. But I faced a much worse fear recently, making my previous fear a lot more tolerable.” Adrien explained.

Luka turned back to him to see the blond teen trying to hold back tears.

“And that is?” Luka pressed.

“Losing my soulmate.” Adrien answered, just barely audible.

Luka looked at him and shook his head.

“You are taking a rejection way too seriously.” Luka commented.

That is what made Adrien snap. Before the musician could even react. Adrien had slugged him in the face.

Luka nearly fell over from the force of the punch. He looked at Adrien with shock and anger, seeing the teen with tears in his eyes and clearly furious.

“Okay, thats how you want to play it.” Luka said as his patience has now reached its limit.

He charged at Adrien. The two exchanged several blows, Luka was older and slightly taller, but Adrien was more athletic and had a lot more experience in fighting then the musician. It was clear it was one sided and favored the blond model. Luka had gotten a clean hit on Adrien’s stomach, but the teen wasn't as fazed by the punch as the musician would have liked. Adrien returned his punch with a series of blows that left bruises and bumps all over the teen. 

Adrien finished the fight with a punch to the face hard enough that it knocked Luka over his couch, leaving him dazed for a bit. 

Adrien grabbed a towel and threw it at Luka.

“Clean yourself up and leave. If I call for help, you will be fighting in a prison cell.” Adrien explained as wiped the small amounts of blood on his face. He saw a black cat Kwami floating over Luka’s head. Adrien saw the pleading eyes of the cat kwami. Adrien wanted to take back his companion right there, but her resisted, he wasn't Chat noir anymore.

Luka sat up wiping his face with the towel.

“If this is the person you are now. I am glad you are kept away from Marinette.” Luka said as he stood up. “Thanks for the towel.” 

He tossed it to the side and started climbing out the window. The black cat Kwami looked at Adrien one last time, before he had to go back to Luka. Adrien saw that the cat had mouthed the words ‘I miss you.’

“I miss you to Plagg.” Adrien spoke to the air.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Ow...” Luka winced as his violet tipped hair sister dabbed his bruises with a cotton swab. “Could you not press so hard Juleka.”

“Seems your low tolerance to pain explains why you got beat up so bad.” Juleka commented as she continued treating his bruises. “You are lucky mom is out with her boat buddies or you would probably get in trouble.”

Luka sighed.

“Juleka, how would you describe your friend Adrien?” He asked curiously, which seemed like a sudden topic change.

“Well, he is polite, nice to a fault. Way more tolerant and understanding then anyone, even more then Marinette.” Juleka answered. “He is almost as naive and kind as Rose.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Luka retorted as his sister put the bandage on his cheek.

“Well he was more of an acquaintance then a friend. But I know Marinette was super into him before she dated you.” Juleka explained. “While I have been wrong about people before, Marinette is a great judge of character.”

Luka felt his sister’s comment touch his heart. The Adrien that he talked with today was a bitter, angry, and a very cold person. Was that his true self? Was that a front to get him to leave? It was hard for him to decide.

“You stay here, I am gonna check to see if we have ice.” Juleka said before leaving the room. Once she left the room, a black cat Kwami popped out of his jacket.

“What do you think about all of this Plagg?” Luka asked.

“I believe that wasn't the real Adrien you saw. I could tell. He was hurting.” Plagg gave his opinion.

“You and my sister seem to believe the same thing.”

“He knows you're chat noir.” Plagg dropped the bombshell.

“What? How would he know that?” Luka asked alarmed.

“He saw me when he knocked you over the couch, I got flung out.” He lied. ”I flew back into your jacket, I think he noticed.”

Luka sighed.

“Great... thats another thing on the list to worry about.” Luka commented.

He noticed his phone buzzing and grabbed it to look at it. 

“15 missed calls from Marinette.... yikes.” Plagg commented. “You should probably call her back.

“Yea... I also have a few things I need to ask her about.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Adrien laid on his bed looking up at the ceiling. He knows for a fact that his emotions were crossing the line. He knew he should have an akuma flying in any second to get him, but nothing. He sat up from his bed when he noticed a black Butterly fly at his window. He watched as the akuma seemed to be fluttering around the window, as if debating whether or not to go in. Curious on why the akuma hadn't just barged in he decided to walk towards it.

_______________________________________________________________________

“There was a lot of hostility coming from Adrien, so much so that it attracted the akuma away from my initial target. “ The villain in the purple suit spoke aloud. “I shouldn't use him for my schemes, it would be cruel to do so. Come back my akuma. Do not let that boy distract you.”

He watched as the Akuma flew back into the room. It landed on his palm.

“Lets see if I can locate that original source of pain from early...”

He heard the sound of glass smashing. A blond teen had fallen through the window.

“Adrien!” Hawkmoth called out in surprise.

Adrien got up dusting himself off, thankfully he didn't cut himself on glass. He looked up to see the evil masked villain of Paris looking at him in disbelief.

“Hawkmoth? What are you doing in my house!?” Adrien exclaimed as he got into a battle stance.

Hawkmoth looked at the angry teen and sighed deeply.  He wasn't going to fight his son.

“Its me Adrien.” Hawkmoth spoke softly. “Nooru Dark wings fall.”

Adrien watched as Hawkmoth had transformed into his father, Gabriel Agreste. 

“Father?! You're hawkmoth?!” Adrien looked at him with a flurry of emotions.

“Adrien, its time I told you everything.”

______________________________________________________________________

(Thoughts? Do you want more of the Brokenhearted au?)

[professional-benaddict]

Someone on a groupchat showed me a post that it said: "Make sure your sugar daddy takes the flu shot this year" and I need Peter being a little nurse and staying with Tony who caught the flu. Family friendly, if you want ;)

Im sksks I dont know what to say about what I wrote but heres a thing lmao

Sugar Daddy Tony, 18+ Sugar Baby Peter, sickfic, flu, whump, fluff, some silliness and Stephen and his Lamborghini

————————

”Steph?”

With a hum, the older man turned around to face Peter, but quickly fixed his gaze over to where the boy was pointing. They were stood in line at the store with a basket full of tissues, ingredients for chicken soup, cough drops and cold medicine. Stephen was holding the basket, even though Peter had protested that it was his boyfriend who was sick and that he should help out, the doctor had shushed him with a smirk and said how Peter’s hands will become rough if he carried too much heavy stuff. The boy had tried to pout and protest, but in the end he blushed a little. To be honest, he loved how everyone, not just Tony, treated him like a sugar baby.

”No.”

”Come on! It will cheer him up!”

”I’m not a nurse, but even I am offended by how horrible that outfit is. It’s unpractical and let alone unsanitary.”

”It’s just a costume, it’s just for fun, Doc.” Peter chirped, elbowing his friend teasingly in the ribs before stepping out of the line momentarily to grab the nurse outfit. Despite Stephen glaring at him as he returned, Peter placed the outfit in the basket the older man was holding. As a thank you, Peter stood up on his tip toes to plant a soft, but slightly sticky from lipgloss, kiss on the doctor’s cheek.

”You’ve become such a brat since you and Tony became a thing.” Stephen said, but there was no ill harm behind his words, nor did he move to wipe the glittery gloss from his cheek. Peter giggled.

The two of them made their way out the store quickly with their purchases and to the parking lot where Stephen had his Lamborghini parked. People might have thought that Stephen was a sugar daddy doing some shopping with his sugar baby, but that was not the reality. Still, they would have made a stunning pair. Climbing into the car and starting the roaring engine, Stephen began to drive Peter back to Tony’s place.

”You’ll call me if you need anything, all right? I won’t have you working yourself sick too by caring for him, you hear me?” Stephen said with some sternness as they started to get close to their destination.

”Yes, yes, Steph.” Peter assured with a chuckle as he drummed his fingers against his thigh along to the Pink Floyd that Stephen played on the speakers. Tony would kill him if he told him this, but in Peter’s mind Stephen had better taste in music than Tony.

”All right, here we are.” The doctor said as he pulled over to the entrance to the luxurious apartment building. ”You want me to help out with the stuff or cook the soup?”

”I thought you hated the nurse outfit and now you wanna come up and see it?” Peter laughed as he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the bag from the backseat.

”Oh God! You’re gonna put it on right now?”

”Of course! Either way, you’ve helped more than enough, Doc, I can do the rest. Thank you.” Peter thanked and again, he leaned over to give Stephen a kiss on the cheek.

”Okay, then. Give the old man my love, yeah?”

”Will do!”

And with that Peter climbed out of the car and headed to the entrance. Flashing the guard by the door a smile, the boy was let into the building and he headed through the luxurious lobby to the golden elevators. One of Peter’s favourite guards was stood by the elevator and pushed the button before Peter could even greet him.

”How are you, Thomas?”

”Welcome back, Mr Parker.”

”Thomas, please, it’s Peter.”

”Sorry, sorry.” The guard chuckled and let Peter enter the elevator first before following him and pushing the button for the 56th floor. ”Oh, is Mr Stark sick?” Thomas asked as he saw the contents of the plastic bag, considering how transparent it was. However, he did not ask about the nurse outfit, which Peter was sure he had seen too.

”Yeah, he is. I’m going to nurse him back to health.”

”That’s very sweet of you. Call the lobby if you need anything, yeah? And wish Mr Stark a speedy recovery.” Thomas said with a friendly smile as the elevator slowed down and the doors slid open with a soft ding. Stepping out, Peter waved the guard goodbye.

”Thanks, Thomas.”

There were only three apartments on the 56th floor, considering how enormous they were. Tony had instructed Peter not to tease their two neighbours about how they had the best apartment out of the three, which of course the boy did not do. Peter found both Mr and Mrs Berg to be very friendly, although he did not see them often, but old Ms Wilson Peter was more than familiar with. He would often go visit her and help around in her apartment. As a thank you, she would often come around and give Peter and Tony some of her delicious pastries when she apparently made “too much on accident”. 

Pulling out his keycard, Peter entered the apartment and closed the door with his foot. Usually, he would have cried out to Tony by now that he was home, but considering how Tony was sick and probably sleeping, Peter entered quietly. After toeing off his shoes, he padded to the kitchen to put the food away. He decided to check on Tony first before putting on the outfit, just in case the old man was in a bad mood. Bringing the cough drops, cold medicine and a big glass of water with him, Peter headed down the hall to the master bedroom. 

The bedroom was nearly pitch black, only slightly illuminated by one stripe of sunlight that got in though the crack in the thick curtains. The air in the room was thick and heavy, with a hint of warm feverish sweetness. In the middle of the king sized bed, Tony was laying on his front, however his head was not on the pillow, but on the mattress. He was only dressed in boxers, breathing heavily and a little noisily, but that was due to his stuffed sinuses. The duvet around him was a mess as he probably pushed them off only to pull them back over himself with the hot and cold flashes from the fever. 

“Tony, babe…” Peter said gently, placing the glass and such on the bedside table before going to open the curtains a little. He could hear some stirring from the bed at the sudden brightness, but before he went to Tony he opened the window to let in some fresh air. “Tony…” 

“Mhmm…” A low groan was all Peter got in response, and just based on that he knew that Tony’s voice was different due to the swelling in this throat. Sitting onto the side of the bed, Peter brought a hand to the older man’s forehead. Glassy and red eyes met brighter ones and Peter smiled down at Tony. Luckily, Tony did not feel much warmer compared to when Peter had checked before heading to college earlier that morning. Still, he grabbed the thermometer from the bedside table and took the protective cover off. 

“Open up.” Peter instructed and the older man grunted a little as he turned onto his back before parting his lips so that the boy could place the thermometer under his tongue. 

“That’s my line.” Tony grumbled.

“Shhh, don’t talk or the reading won’t be accurate.” Peter shushed back, bringing a hand up to stroke at Tony’s toned stomach gently. 

They sat in silence while the thermometer took the reading, with only the autumn breeze whispering gently as it came through the window and freshened up the thick air in the room considerably. Eventually, the device beeped and Tony was about to lift his hand, but Peter was faster. 

“100,50. How are you feeling?” 

“Like I have 100,50 in fever.” Tony deadpanned back, only opening his eyes to slits and smirked just a little at the look Peter gave him. Clearing his throat a little, Tony tried again. “Head and throat hurts. More importantly however, how did the talk with your supervisor go? Did she approve your research question?” 

“You’re dehydrated, here.” Peter answered shortly, picking up the glass that he had brought and offering it to Tony. The older man grunted again as he sat up a little and with his free hand, Peter helped place a pillow behind his back. Once he had finished one-fourth of the glass, Peter handed him the two white pills that would bring down his fever, but instead of taking them, Tony stuck his tongue out. With a roll of his eyes and a chuckle, Peter placed the two pills on Tony’s tongue and watched as he swallowed them with some more water before putting it aside. As much as Peter pretended to be annoyed by Tony’s childish behaviour, it was a good sign and meant that he wasn’t seriously ill. 

“Now, tell me how the talk went.” 

“I went to school, but only to reschedule the talk to next week. I didn’t wanna spend too much time away from you so I called Stephen to pick me up and we went to the store to pick up some supplies. He sends his love by the way, as does Thomas.” 

“Thomas goggles too much at your ass.” Tony snapped back, to which Peter only giggled. “And what do you mean rescheduled? The first draft is due in two weeks you said. I’m an adult for Christ sake, I can deal with a cold, so you go back to school.”

“You’ve got the flu, babe.” Peter corrected. “You said your joints hurt this morning and that’s not a symptom of a cold, but the flu.”

“Whatever, whatever…” The older man grumbled and slipped down from his sitting position to lay back down. “What are you doing here then? Getting yourself sick too? Get out of here.” He argued and with a weak arm he gestured to the door. Before getting up, Peter patted Tony’s bare thigh and leaned over to kiss his temple. 

“I’ll make you some toast and tea, yeah? I also got stuff to make chicken soup later.” Peter said as he circled the bed to head out. All he got in response was a groan from Tony. 

Once Peter had the tea brewing and the toast in the toaster, his eyes fell upon the nurse outfit on the counter. Holding back excited giggles, Peter changed into it quickly before placing the toast and tea on a tray. Taking a deep breath, he began to head down the hall to the master bedroom again. 

“How’s my favourite patient?” Peter said huskily by the door, waiting until Tony lifted his head up to look at him. 

“Did my fever spike or are you wearing a cheap nurse outfit?”

(Smth like this maybe??)

[achanceofprecipisatan]

Anyone watched The Society?

Grizz was unconcerned by Sam being late — it was hard enough to get out past curfew without a newborn. It was a shame they'd get a little less time together, but he didn't hold it against him.

He sat down on the edge of the curb, feet in the dry gutter, thinking distractedly about what he needed to do the next day. Mundane things that didn't really fit in this isolated town of dread, but were necessary nonetheless.

The night was quiet, quieter than it had ever been back home, no cars charging along the roads, no midnight strollers, laughing against the moon. Nobody but him.

So the footsteps surprised him, he thought it must be Sam at first, so lifted his head, and there in the orange glow of the streetlight stood Lexie.

Grizz stood, "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Fair enough," He nodded. "Its a rendezvous."

"A what?"

"I'm meeting someone." He clarified, "Now what are you doing? It's past curfew."

"I wanted to go see Allie." She took a step towards him.

"Couldn't you do that while the sun was still up?"

"I could." She acknowledged, taking another step, "But I didn't."

She was close enough now he could take her in, her jacket open despite the cold. And, tucked into the belt of her jeans, an unmistakable black hilt.

"Is that a gun?"

"No!" She wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Shit. You're not gonna- You can't shoot Allie."

"Oh? That one of her rules? She shot Dewy."

Whoever shot the killing bullet, he knew she was telling the truth. "He killed Cassandra."

"She violated me! Im fucking terrified, we all are. She deserves to feel scared, too."

"You think she isn't? This will only make anything worse."

"Look, Grizz, just let me go."

"Or what?"

She pulled out the gun and pointed it at him. He remembered throwing up when he was asked to help with the execution. How could she hold it so casually?

"First rule of gunmanship." He instructed. "Don't point at anything you won't shoot."

"I know." She said coldly, not changing position. "Maybe this will do more, one of the Guards, shot because he was out past curfew"

"Lex-" He took a step forward and suddenly, so suddenly, she shot.

It was a simple enough deduction: there was a bang, and she stumbled backwards from the backdraft, and his left ear hurt more than anything had In a long time. Didn’t feel real, though.

She said something, but he couldn't hear it over the ringing, the echo from the bullet. His hand went up to his ear and it felt hot and wet.

She looked around, eyes widening like she heard something, then took off, and still he could only hear ringing, and only feel the sting.

Sam came into view, and Grizz hadn't really realised how bad it was until he saw his shocked face.

"Sam..." He tried to say, but he even couldn't hear his own voice. He thought he might be able to hear his heartbeat but it could just be the pump in his ear. He took his hand away and it was covered in dark blood.

Sam ran forward and caught him just as his legs collapsed.

He was meant to be the wonderer, and the stoic, and he was meant to be ok even if the worst happened, but he wasn't ok.

Sam was saying things urgently, lips and hands moving fast, and Grizz couldn't understand a word of it.

"I can't-" He tried to explain and was only hit again with that terrifying feeling of not hearing his voice.

"You can't hear?" Sam signed slowly.

He shook his head.

~

He woke up in one of the hospitals beds, and Sam was in the chair next to him, neck cricked to one side, holding his hand in broad daylight. He squeezed it and his eyes flew open.

"Shouldn't you be with Becca and Eden?" He asked, and that ringing was still there, quieter but still replacing everything else. His own words included.

Sam shrugged. "You are more important."

"Important?" He signed back the unfamiliar gesture.

"You need me more." Sam rephrased.

Grizz smiled. "Thank you."

Gordie came over. "You're awake?"

Sam translated.

"What happened?"

"Lexie was going to... she was going to try and shoot Allie. She shot me instead, or tried to and misfired." Speaking was disconcerting.

"Is Allie ok?" Sam asked.

Gordie shook his head slowly. "I don't know."

Grizz shut his eyes, so he couldn't hear or see anything. 2/5 senses gone. At least he could still smell that stark hospital smell and taste some coppery blood on his tongue... and feel Sam tracing on his palm, circles and letters that he couldn't place. He opened his eyes again.

"Can I go home?" He asked, knowing that this disrupted his whole image and lost Gordies trust, but he didn't care. He wanted to be somewhere but here.

Gordie nodded. Sam stood up.

"Sam... you can go, I don't-"

"I'm taking you home."

"Okay." He was too tired to argue, and anyway it was kind of nice to be cared about, when he was usually the one looking after everyone else. Especially by Sam.

-

"I'm scared," Grizz admitted, sat on his bed with his back against the headboard.

"I know," Sam replied.

"You can help teach me sign language, and  I can... fuck. I don't even- I know its not fair to be upset when you-" He was stumbling over his silent words.

"No. Losing is the worst part."

"I want to know something in sign language."

"What?"

He took a deep breath. “How do you say 'I love you.'?"

"I love you." Sam signed back.

"Do you?"

"Yes. I love you."

"I love you?" He asked, eyebrows raised, checking he was doing it right.

"I love you." He confirmed.

"You never told me how to say 'kiss me.'"

"Kiss me."

"I love you. Kiss me?" It was unpracticed, but his eyes said it, too.

Sam kissed him.

[ayyponine]

anyway re: my personal daemon & patronus

bc ive been thinking abt this and yesterday, went to the zoo

opinions are welcomed as hell though like please hmu w what you think would be an interesting fit fr me bc chances are ill be trying to figure it out fr the rest of my fucking life

patronus: idk what ive said abt this in the past or what pottermore officially assigned me w but rn atm? id LOVE the idea of a capybara barreling into a dementor at full speed. its an image thatd double as a riddikulus spell. also the zoo made me realise birds are shrieky as hell and i would not want them as a 24/7 daemon but magpies make me happy and id be satisfied w one defending me any day thanks

daemon options: 1. i know this is v unpractical and i prefer the idea of being able to keep it close & curled up to yrself but.........sheep? the one pettable sheep at my local petting zoo has gotten used to me so when i sit down he’ll come over and standw his head under the sort of roof my bent legs make while i pet him which just Feels Good Feels Organic. so anyway i might be sheeple 2. one of my friends insists it’d be like a marten, otter or smth similarly sleek & slinky which is extremely good and makes me suspect mb he thinks too highly of me bc theyre kinda silly & cute and playful but also have a composed elegant aura so idk if im like legally allowed to claim that. 3 not sure if it fits me any better but i do like the look of smth cuddly but SOLID like a wombat, red panda, oppossum, raccoon (rabiosexuals put your paws up. i am KIDDING). 4. at the end of the day i still adore larry though..... idk much abt daemon lore but based on boreal im guessing lizards, snakes, etc are bad? like a cold blooded personality? so that wouldnt fit me at all but god.. the image of me going like hang on i need to ponder on this b4 i make a life changing decision....*turns to the horny toad perched & spacing out on my shoulder & whispers like idk larry what are we thinking.

larry:

dont tell me that isnt a god tier mood tbh

[a-panda-reads-act-omega]

ACT OMEGA PART 8

THE 24/10/16 UPDATE

Woow, another liveblog from your favorite act omega liveblogger. Are there any other livebloggers out there i need to know.  So yeah, here we are with part 8! Big Vriska number for the win. Also only two updates away from double digits! Yeah, I’m not sure I thought this through with the whole update-update format, this might take a L OT of posts to get caught up. Luckily, I have no problem with making a fuckton of posts. Anyways, I think we left off with the kids, so lets hurry up and get back to them!

(Cant post the image. Here’s the link. http://mspfanventures.com/?s=16414&p=47)

GASP, IS thIS SOME MULTIPLE CHOICE SHIT? Well considering I’m forever going to be staying chronological, I suppose I should start with the one on the next page! 

A CHARACTER SELECTION MENU appears through the power of NON-LINEAR STORYTELLING. You know the drill by now, have some free will! Or just go in this order, if you think agency is overrated

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR | FIVE

Oh, that’s helpful. Great, I’ll start with ONE then.

The fact that you are a dedicated and loyal reader is obvious and indisputable, so of course you won’t be moving on ahead without having taken a gander at all of the options presented to you.

Obviously! what kinda brainless CHUMP would move on without you explicitly stating to? NOT ME.

Anyways, starting with ONE.

PFt, woah their eyes. 

KANAYA: (Hey) ROXY: oh heeeeey! KANAYA: (Hey To You Again Except Slightly More Quietly) ROXY: (oh sorry)

It seems they gotta be quiet for reasons. H  m m M..

ROXY: (why r we whispering) KANAYA: (I Am Not Entirely Sure)

So they just need to be miss zuipPer lips for no reason then?

KANAYA: (That Just Seems To Be What Everyone Has Lapsed Into Doing) KANAYA: (And Now Speaking In A Normal Volume Will Draw More Attention Than Desired Especially When Attempting To Have A Private Conversation) ROXY: (im lovin this private convo already but you might need to make it snappy)

so everybodys just whispering? do they all got SECRETS? Also, what’s the hurry Roxy?

ROXY: (john looks about ready to get down n dirty with some srs leadership biz)

Oh yeah.

KANAYA: (Alright Then I Will Attempt To Be Brief) KANAYA: (I Wanted To Thank You Again) KANAYA: (For The Matriorb Certainly)

Alright cool! It seems that this Kanaya does remember Roxy giving her the good ol’ matriorb. 

KANAYA: (But Additionally For Everything Else You Have Accomplished Today) KANAYA: (I Know Being The One To Strike The Final Blow Against Our Shared Enemy In The Midst Of Battle Does Not Necessarily Warrant Gratitude But I Thought It Might Be Nice For You To Hear That What You Did Was Appreciated)

What she DID, was prove herself to be a goddamn BADASS. But honestly everybody here’s a badass one way or another. 

KANAYA: (At Least By Me) KANAYA: (On Behalf Of My Species As Well As All Those Who Suffered At The Behest Of The Condesce) KANAYA: (And All Those That May Now Be Born And Live Free Of Tyranny) KANAYA: (You Did Good)

Pft, nice. “Ya did good, kid.” 

ROXY: (omg i am cri)

goddammit these lines always manage to be fucking perfect.

ROXY: (that wasnt brief @ all but twas so so bootiful) ROXY: (gdi cmere moms big loveable space gf)

OK this doesn’t need to be stated, but I fucking love roxy.

KANAYA: (Um I Would Prefer It If We Saved The Hug For Later Maybe) ROXY: (aww ok thats cool)

nO FUCKING HUG NOW

KANAYA: (Anyway I Have Only Just Met You But You Have Already Proven Yourself To Be Just As Extraordinary An Individual As Your...) KANAYA: (Uh) KANAYA: (Rose)

Nice Kanaya.

ROXY: (as my rose?) KANAYA: (Yes Your Rose) ROXY: (;D)

ITS CONFIRMED, Rose is Roxy’s Rose. this conversation is so cute.

See you’re still over there TZ. Whatcha lookin at? The uh... oh youre blind. what are you doing terezi?? come on girl, celebrate!

ROXY: (okay looks like john got distracted by somethin) ROXY: (so since we got a little more time to chat it up) ROXY: (and so long as were exchangin bomb as FUCK felicitations) ROXY: (youre not so shabby yourself yknow) ROXY: (like damn i was absolutely right youre one deadly customer)

Yeah no fuckin kidding, this girl knows how to kick ass.

ROXY: (seeing u whip out that BEASTLY CHAINSAW) ROXY: (was a sight to behold)

PFt, that was nothing. You should have seen when she single handedly put three of the most dangerous characters on the meteor out of commision. 

KANAYA: (I Really Did Not Do All That Much Surprisingly) KANAYA: (Or Perhaps Unsurprisingly) KANAYA: (I Am Not Sure If I Was Erring On The Side Of Caution After All) KANAYA: (Out Of Consideration For The Gift You Gave Me) KANAYA: (Or If Perhaps I Was Simply Unpracticed)

Well yeah, she didnt do as much in this battle as the others.  But like she said, she had the matriorb to keep safe. PLUS, she wasnt godtier. So yeah Kanaya, you’re excused from doing your makeup during the final epic battle.

ROXY: (who cares??) ROXY: (we WON) ROXY: (gave that witch what was COMING TO HER) ROXY: (and thats the end of that no point gettin our knickers all in a twist over it no more)

Roxy’s got the right idea. There doesn’t gotta be any more “proving yourself.” You did the battle, and you came out on top!  JUst be done with it.

KANAYA: (Yes I Suppose Youre Right) KANAYA: (Though I Do Wonder How Things Might Have Gone If I Had Attempted To Dust Off One Of The Old Fraymotifs)

Oh shit, Kanaya’s got fraymotifs? And also, you can use fraymotifs without being godtier?

oh. wait. terezi isnt godtier is she? Yeah, you totally can use fraymotifs without godtier.

ROXY: (no kidding!) ROXY: (yeah that woulda been pretty badass) ROXY: (we could have had a sick combo) ROXY: (void and...) ROXY: (uh) KANAYA: (Space) ROXY: (right yeah space)

Well too bad you’ll never have the opportunity to USE that sick deadly combo!

I am ONE HUNDRED percent sure that will be the case

i am SO SURE

nobody has to die anymore

so

completely sure.

KANAYA: (It May Have Indeed Been Sick But Upon Further Reflection Perhaps Not)

No kanaya, it would be SUPER fuckin badass dont even give me that shit.

ROXY: (wait rly) ROXY: (how come?) KANAYA: (I Dont Feel Like I Ever Got The Opportunity To Truly Get In Touch With My Aspect Like You) KANAYA: (It Has Never Seemed Pertinent That I Be Able To Cast Some Sort Of Spacey Enchantment) KANAYA: (In Fact I Have Yet To Stumble Across A Scenario I Could Not Handle Through More Traditional Methods) ROXY: (u mean a deadly body slam full a sharp metal teeth twice the length of your head) KANAYA: (Yes Precisely) KANAYA: (That Tends To Cover The Bases Pretty Well)

WELL, Chainsaws do seem to cover many different issues. Mainly the ones which involve somebody needing to be cut the fuck in half. But I dont know if being “In touch” with your aspect was ever really a thing. I mean, when did John become “in touch” with his aspect? He just sorta got the powers and did shit with them. i dont really know what that has to do with it- wait a goddamn second. People always associate the wind aspect with like independence and shit, right? And.. the last thing that happened before John went godtier, was a choice. Given to him by Vriska, who for the first time decided to step back and let him decide what to do on his own. Whether or not she would have owned up to what she said about letting him decide how to fall asleep, he still made the choice and went with it on is own. So maybe that’s got something to do with it.

Or maybe I’m just an idiot.

ROXY: (well you know what thats cool) ROXY: (u do u) ROXY: (besides) ROXY: (hopefully there wont be any more reason for you to wreck shit)

GOddammit stop saying shit like that

KANAYA: (That Would Be Ideal I Suppose) KANAYA: (However It Is Always Wise To Be Prepared) KANAYA: (Just In Case) ROXY: (ofc!) ROXY: (and hey) ROXY: (just cuz we won the game doesnt mean there wont be any more opportunities to like) ROXY: (explore yourself and your aspect) ROXY: (our cool powers are too friggin handy for them to just stop bein relevant once we walk thru a magic door)

SPeaking of which, can THEY HURRY UP AND WALK THROUGH THE MAGIC FUCKING DOOR YET IM GETTING ANXIOUS.

ROXY: (maybe someday youll get the chance to blitz ur chakras and get spacey w it) ROXY: (and itll be at your own pace instead of having to rush it for the sake of fixing some giant spacetastrophe) KANAYA: (That Does Sound Nice)

YES IT DOES NOW HURRY UP THROUGH THE DOOR SO THAT BECOMES A REALITY COME THE FUCK ON JOHN

KANAYA: (Considering Right Now I Am Very Unsure Of How To Even Begin Blitzing Those Particular Chakras) ROXY: (i bet u can ask john) ROXY: (hes rly good at givin advice for stuff like that)

YES HE IS BUT HE ISNT GOOD AT OPENING DOORS AAAAA

ROXY: (tho he probably doesnt even know it pffff) KANAYA: (You Are Also Very Good At Giving Advice) KANAYA: (That Was Not Necessarily A Request I Simply Thought I Should Point That Out) ROXY: (TOO BAD youre gettin some anyway ;P) ROXY: (rly tho ive hardly even begun to wrestle my voidy powers into submission) ROXY: (still got a loooooong way to go on that front) ROXY: (but thus far most of my blitzing has just been like) ROXY: (being around the thing) ROXY: (and letting myself embrace this like) ROXY: (natural synergy i got going w it) KANAYA: (When You Say) KANAYA: (The Thing) KANAYA: (Do You Mean Nothing) KANAYA: (Considering Your Aspect Presides Over Literal Nothingness)

Yes Kanaya, this is exactly what she means.

ROXY: (pffft) ROXY: (yes thats what i mean :p) KANAYA: (Okay I Was Just Attempting To Clarify) KANAYA: (How Does One Surround Themselves With The Concept Of Nonexistence) ROXY: (i dunno!) ROXY: (when u put it that way it does sound pretty mind bending) ROXY: (i guess ive just been lucky?) ROXY: (or maybe the nothing is naturally attracted to me and lucks got nothin to do w it)

WELL YEAh, what isnt naturally attracted to you? Guys i just really love roxy help

ROXY: (but yeah i got that voidy ring @ one point) ROXY: (and when john started getting to fixing the timeline he took me to a place that felt like) ROXY: (the nothingest nothing to ever unexist) KANAYA: (That Sounds Interesting) KANAYA: (What Was It Like)

Probably nothing.

THATS a cool panel right there.

ROXY: (well it was) ROXY: (white) ROXY: (but not pure white) ROXY: (just slightly off) ROXY: (and) ROXY: (it was super vast) ROXY: (but not like regular outer space where you can actually see stuff like stars stretch on and on til you cant see it anymore) ROXY: (which at least gives u a sense of distance) ROXY: (but instead it was almost claustrophobic) ROXY: (cuz there was nothing there) ROXY: (you and all the other somethings just completely enveloped by a shrink wrap o absence)

HUmm.. thats pretty interesting to say the least. Not really sure what to think of it though! Just pretty nifty.

KANAYA: (Hmmmm) ROXY: (never really tried putting this into words) ROXY: (i think the thing about it was that the void sort of) ROXY: (changed) ROXY: (depending on how i chose to perceive it) ROXY: (cause the whole point is that its kinda like) ROXY: (idk) ROXY: (maybe a little like binary) KANAYA: (Binary?)

too bad sollux is dead he’d get a kick outta this.

did anybody make this connection. computer hacker guy who likes two’s. Binary. man. i feel like everybody did.

ROXY: (yknow binary) ROXY: (computer language) ROXY: (0011101100101001)

TRANSLATOr HELP

“;)“

omfg she just winked in binary.

KANAYA: (Oh That) ROXY: (the way that works is basically) ROXY: (you have a bit) ROXY: (like a computery bit) ROXY: (and it can say either 0 or 1) ROXY: (and dependin on which it is the computer displays the info differently) ROXY: (but the void is like a completely blank bit) ROXY: (there isnt a 0 or a 1 written on the bit yet but thats all were programmed to understand yknow) ROXY: (like 0 is technically nothing but whats important is that theres something there for you to see) ROXY: (but what im gettin at is that really void is just blank space waiting to be written on) ROXY: (by somebody like yours truly) ROXY: (im the computer and youre the person reading the display)

Oh. That’s pretty cool and shit. 

OH shes gettin all magicky here

ROXY: (and my whole voidy thing) ROXY: (is that i gotta figure out the code for whatever i wanna make exist) ROXY: (and write it on the blank bits) ROXY: (then) ROXY: (i snatch em outta the void!)

Oh AGAIN. YEAh, roxys power seems a lot cooler now.

ROXY: (yoink!!!)

*gasp*

nice lipstick yo

Kanaya is so fucking cute oml. She looks kinda dumbfounded by this lipstick.

KANAYA: (Wow) KANAYA: (That Was Really Quite Insightful Roxy) KANAYA: (I Think I Am Already Beginning To Understand Things Better) KANAYA: (But What Is This) ROXY: (p sure its lipstick!) ROXY: (and its 4 u) ROXY: (i dont rly know if pinks ur color but) ROXY: (here it is anyway!)

Oh god help me im already starting to ship it.

KANAYA: (Another Gift) KANAYA: (Why) ROXY: (daaaaw i dunno) ROXY: (i mean its actually kinda cool i was able to make this at all) ROXY: (i bet it must be bc of you somehow) ROXY: (you like lipstick right?) KANAYA: (Yes) ROXY: (i dont know if this is just me but i bet this is totes a thing w space players) ROXY: (like i get the vibe that u guys r more in touch with the objects around you) ROXY: (specially the ones thatre important to you) KANAYA: (I Suppose...)

HMm.. Interesting bit of aspect analysis. That could possibly be a thing.

ROXY: (well?) ROXY: (ru gonna take it or what) KANAYA: (I Really Cant Accept This) KANAYA: (I Was Attempting To Alleviate The Debt Of Gratitude I Have Already Been Accumulating Towards You) KANAYA: (A Measly Thank You Is Hardly Enough) KANAYA: (And Yet You Present Me With Even More To Be Thankful For)

COme on Kanaya dont be like that. Just take the thing and be hAPPY! you dont gotta prove yourself for a gift.

ROXY: (man thats not how this works) ROXY: (you dont owe me nothin) ROXY: (but heck if it makes u feel better) ROXY: (the space egg wasnt rly 4 u it was 4 all the little trollings that need to be born) ROXY: (skewering the batterwitch was definitely 4 me and earth and stuff) ROXY: (and the lipstick is to thank u for takin such good care of my mom :D)

Dont you mean your Rose?

KANAYA: (... That Does Make Me Feel Slightly Better) ROXY: (so youll take it??) KANAYA: (Okay) ROXY: (hella) KANAYA: (Thank You) KANAYA: (Again) ROXY: (dont mention it!)

She will likely mention this many times.

WEll that was the end for their interaction I suppose, so it seems like we get one page of another interaction then? I guess Dirk and Jake.

Ohp, yep. Jeez they look awkward.

DIRK: (... So.) JAKE: (...) DIRK: (...) DIRK: (That was some fight, huh.)

Goddammit this is awkward. 

JAKE: (Oh yes that sure was a doozy of a brawl we all just participated in.) JAKE: (Or rather multiple brawls.) DIRK: (I think you’re probably up to speed on exactly how well mine went.) JAKE: (Um.) JAKE: (Should i be?) DIRK: (Nevermind.)

Just another beheading of good ol’ Dirk. Seems like that’s a common thing for him. 

((OhOFOHSANSIJFN  HOLY SHIT I PRESSED A BUTTON AND FOR A SECOND I THOUGHT I ALMOST DELETED EVERYTHING I WROTE DAMMIT TUMBLR GIVE ME WARNINGS))

JAKE: (Sorry... its just difficult to, uh...) DIRK: (Don’t be sorry. It doesn’t actually matter.) JAKE: (The important part is you won right?) DIRK: (Yeah...) DIRK: (How did yours go?) DIRK: (If you feel like sharing, that is.) JAKE: (Oh i won too!) DIRK: (Well. Obviously.) DIRK: (I meant... like.) DIRK: (Specifically, HOW you won.) DIRK: (I’d be down to hear some details of all the kickassery you've been dishing out.) DIRK: (That must've been pretty crazy solo.)

Come ONNNN guys, quit dancing around the topic here. Somethings bothering you and its making everything shitty.

JAKE: (Oh.) JAKE: (Well i wasnt alone for long actually.) JAKE: (In fact it was quite the clusterfuck of skeletons sprites and green goblin brutes!) JAKE: (That crabby troll fellow even showed up at one point.) JAKE: (He seemed to be having a difficult time with one of the tinier rascals but i was up to my ears in fracas and fisticuffs myself and couldnt really lend him a hand.)

Dammit Karkat. I love him, but god he’s adorably pathetic in fights.

DIRK: (It looks like he’s alright, so no harm done.) DIRK: (How many of those green dudes were there again?) JAKE: (Im fairly certain there were 14.) DIRK: (And you trounced all of them?) JAKE: (Actually k...carat dealt with one of them i think.) JAKE: (They were small but a decidedly tricky foe. It was scurrying around so fast i dont think a single one of my bullets even grazed it!)

He has ALLLL the luck Jake, ALL of it!  Honestly, can we get a Vriska/Clover battle?

DIRK: (Well, shit. Sounds tough.) DIRK: (Still, my score reads "Jake: 13, Goblins: 0".) DIRK: (Oh, and I’m pretty sure the name you’re looking for is Karkat.) JAKE: (Is that so?) DIRK: (Yup.) JAKE: (My mistake then...) DIRK: (Don’t worry about it.)

Dammit Jake, don’t be so fucking hard on yourself. I feel bad for him now. Like, he’s beating himself up over not knowing a complete strangers name.

JAKE: (Have you spoken to him at all yet?) DIRK: (Nah.) JAKE: (Would you like to?) DIRK: (I guess? Sure.) DIRK: (He and Dave seem to be in the middle of something, though. No point in interrupting.) DIRK: (Besides, I’m talking to you right now.) JAKE: (...) DIRK: (...)

(...)

Alright dammit, I guess we’ll see if they get over whatever’s bugging them in the next update, because that’s the last page. Seeya next time and whatnot folks.