#but then i remember. whats the point in building a house if danger can be avoided entirely by spamming torches everyone

[dexaroth]

godddd i WANT to like minecraft so much but theres fucking nothing going onnnnn the biomes are boring the geography is def better than was before but still theres so little variation and even then the core gameplay is just. nothing. the inventory management sucks so much ass ive straight up stopped playing vanilla without bundles and the way you progress in many areas is so dumbb like teehee go find a jungle biome that could be 200 blocks or 20000 blocks away from spawn just so you dont implode of anger trying to build something decent without wasting time on countless dirt pillars. oh and also the only things that look good are structures from the outside because furnishing stuff is practically impossible since theres no furniture. lolz

there are of course many mods that adress this sort of thing but each take it in a new direction and sometimes you just want a branch of the river yknow?

ive been trying to find datapacks for this sort of thing but it doesnt seem like they can accomplish much so it leaves everything to need to be mods.. sigh

[endearng]

Special guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter somsgimdz went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He handed you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear on working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smile adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[funlovinzara]

Monster trio rejecting you Pt.3

‘Makeup’

Warnings: Fluff, arguing in Zoros part

———

Luffy

You and Luffy both talked and had a deeper understanding of eachother, you were in love but Luffy never experienced that nor did he know that was what he was feeling.

He truly did love you in the end, he never even knew he broke your heart in the first place.

“Y/nnnn come on come on come onnn. We have to go!!! You aren’t still talking to Ace are you?”

“No no im not, im coming give me a minute!”

You were still changing to head off on the ship, Luffy being as impatient as he was couldn’t wait. He busted into your room and snatched you out while you were still fixing your hair

“Lets go!! We…I cant go anywhere without you!!”

You both got off the ship and you see Luffy run off into the forest and quickly return with a weird looking flower in his hand.

“For you!!”

He places it in your hair and giggles, “you aren’t ever leaving me!!”

——

Sanji

Sanji decided to take the time to speak to you and apologize, Hes just now realizing that what he said didn’t respect a lady at all, he didnt know how to win your heart back.

Especially with brook being your new best friend, it rages him to see how more comfortable you are with brook than him.

“Y/n.”

“Huh? Yeah?” You turn around to see sanji standing a few feet behind you.

“I need to talk to you…im sorry about what i said. I think i do really like you. I cant see you talking to other men even a skeleton for goodness sake.”

“What.😨”

There was silence as you both stared at eachother

“What?”

“What.”

“Huh?”

“What-.”

All this time you’ve spent trying to get over him all shattered into pieces. Not that he isnt attractive to you anymore its just what he said was a red flag, but since hes apologizing its better than nothing.

You think its better to build up a better friendship before you get with him.

“We can try. But it wont be so easy for you.”

“Really y/n..? You’re sure right? What i said, i didn’t expect you to…”

You gave him a hug, it relieved so much tension. Now you both were on good terms and no one can get through the bond you two were going to build. As for brook, obviously your still going to talk to him! Hes your bestie!!

However he was a around the corner watching the whole situation, he gave Sanji a lecture beforehand. He didn’t think he would actually take action though. He is proud, and hoping things go well.

—-

Zoro

Hes furious at the sight, not that he cares but he does??

The man turns his head slightly and he sees that its..Trafalgar D. Law????

Hes even more ticked. He didnt think Law was a dangerous person but he didn’t want YOU to be around him.

“Y/n???”

He said loud enough for you and Law to hear, you both turn your heads.

“Ah Roronoa Zoro.”

“C’mon, were leaving.”

“What? No why?”

“Theres no point of us being here, we have to go back to the crew.”

“I…huh? I don’t understand.”

“What do you understand?” He says snapping back.

“You live up to your reputation, Zoro.”

“Shut it mushroom hat, lets go.” He forcefully grabs your hand and you try to wiggle free. “Zoro let me go!! What the heck are you doing-!”

You haven’t even gotten to exchange contacts with Law, luckily while you weren’t looking he snuck it in your pocket.

You both exit the auction house and you violently snatch your arm away from Zoros grip. “ZORO!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

All you get is silence from him.

“I cant be happy just for once, you rejected me and yet you’re pulling me away from my only chance of ever getting someone who will like me here!! What the heck is your problem??!”

“Y/n i cant let you do that because i love you. I look like a jerk i KNOW already. But i need you.”

This situation got even more weird. You haven’t completely gotten over him to be honest, but this was so unexpected.

“We can talk about this later. We have a crew remember.”

He walks up to you and looks into your eyes for a second before landing a peck on your forehead.

“I cant let anyone have you. Now, are you gonna take that number out your pocket or what?”

——-

IF YALL ASK FOR A PART 4 IM GONNA CRY.😭 this is the last part periodd

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Minecraft

Alien: What is the point of this game? Human: It doesn’t have one; you can do whatever you want. Alien: Can I burn this world and leave nothing but ash? Human: Disturbingly specific but go ahead.

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

Alien: How do I get wood? Human: Punch some trees. Alien: ……….. Alien: Punch some trees. Human: Yup. Alien: Are you mocking me? Human: What? Alien: Do you think I’m some sort of joke? Alien: An object of ridicule for your amusement!? Human: Okay, before you over react let me just show you. Alien: *Starts reaching for sword when they see the human literally start punching trees for wood* Alien: Oh. *Puts sword away* My apologies. -------------

Human: Why aren’t you playing? Alien: There is a monster in my home. Human: Is it an ender man? Alien: No. Human: Skeleton? Alien: No. Human: Creeper? Alien: Nope. Human: ………… Human: Zombie? Alien: Thwarp no. Human: *Takes controller and goes inside the house* What could it possibly be- *Sees creature* Human: That is a pig. Alien: It is the stuff of nightmares. Human: What the hell is scary about a pig? Alien: Look into its eyes. Alien: It has no soul; no remorse. ----------------

Alien: What are you making? Human: A doomsday device. Alien: Are you allowed to build that on a public server? Alien: Surely the admins would seek to stop you. Human: They can’t stop it if they can’t find it. Alien: What did you build? Human: I placed a claim block, fifty blocks down, and started a cow farm. Alien: That doesn’t sound so bad. Human: There are currently five hundred cows in a four block pen. Human: I have seen the amount of lag it generates drive men to madness. Alien: You are the worst of your species. ---------------

Alien: How goes it? Human: I’ve created a massive creeper farm. Alien: Dear gods why?!?! Human: I want to see what happens when one of them is hit by lightning. Alien: Why? Human: I heard that it turns them into a super creeper. Alien: Why would you want to make the sentient explosive even deadlier? Human: To leave as a surprise for that griefer who blew up my chicken farm last week. Alien: Ah. ----------------

Alien: What are you building today? Human: A nether portal Alien: Is that the purple doorway thing in front of you? Human: Yup. Alien: What does it do? Human: It’s a portal to this world’s version of hell. Alien: WHAT?! Alien: Is that not dangerous? Human: I mean, I want glow stone for my city; and the only place to get glow stone is in the nether. Alien: I weep for this world that has you as its caretaker.   ---------------

Alien: Why is all the sand from my beach gone? Human: Needed it. Alien: For what? Human: Copious amounts of TNT. Alien: Do I even want to know why? Human: Remember that village that I defended only for the golem to attack me? Alien: Yeah. Human: Good. Human: Because that memory of yours is all that is left of it. -----------

*stumbling down extensive mine network to find human friend deep underground.* Alien: You ever coming topside again? Alien: I just found these things called “Pandas” and they are adorable. Human: Not until I find a diamond. Alien: Oh gods, here we go again. Human: There’s only fucking copper down here! Human: What the hell can I even use for copper!?! Alien: I think you can make lightning rods out of them. Human: Oh yeah, sure, lightning rods. Human: I’m sure those will be useful SIXTY BLOCKS UNDERGROUND!!!! ------------

Human: What’s this? Alien: I’ve created an elaborate rail system that will allow me to transfer the citizens of one village to another village to make it a super village! Human: Isn’t that considered kidnapping and human trafficking? Alien: ……….. -------------

Alien: I have created these five iron golems to protect my home. Alien: Nothing shall destroy it while I am away! *Alien leaves into mines* *Returns after an hour of mining to find the entire home destroyed by creepers* Alien: What the flarp! Alien: Where are my go- *Turns to see all five golems distracted by some flowers* -------------

Alien: Something just occurred to me. Human: What’s that? Alien: If you can use the portal to this nether, why can’t things down there use it to escape? Human: Pfft. Human: That’s impossible. Alien: Is it? Human: *Dramatic pause before sprinting over to portal with alien behind him* *Both arrive to find legion of pigmen pouring out from the portal* Alien: Congratulations, you created the end times. Alien: I hope that glow stone was worth it. Human: *draws sword* It really was.

[girlgenius1111]

young, drunk, and alone

putellas!reader, infuriates her sister when she sneaks out and gets drunk with her friends. alexia comes to realize that maybe, this is a result of her pushing you too hard.

angst + fluff. brief mentions of blood and vomiting. and alcohol consumption. this is literally 6k word essay on how silly sisters can be.

-----

Sneaking out hadn't been your best plan. Was it really sneaking out if you slipped right out the front door? You weren't sure. Alexia and Olga were heavy sleepers, and because you had the following day off, you figured it was as good a time as any. You were planning on meeting up with some friends from school and going to a club. You didn't drink much; a combination of being a professional athlete, and someone named Alexia, who happened to be your very strict older sister.

You probably should have paced yourself. You also probably should have not run away from your friends, especially when you were blitzed out of your mind. You weren't quite sure where you were, or how long it had been since you'd bolted from the club. Or how many drinks you'd had.

You'd broken one of your... well, one of Alexia's heels, and you carried both shoes in one hand. You were really sleepy all of a sudden, and you spotted a bench a few meters ahead. You headed there, plopping down on the bench before pulling your phone out of your pocket. The screen swam in front of your eyes, and you couldn't figure out if your hand was moving, or if your head was moving. Something was, that was for sure.

You were somewhere. Somewhere in the city of Barcelona. You needed some help, though.

And you knew just the gal to come get you. Alexia could find anyone, but especially you; she had your location.

The phone began to ring, and you heard your sister's grumpy voice come over the line shortly after.

"Why are you calling me from inside the same house?" She said groggily.

"Aleeeeexiaaaaaa!" You sang, proud of yourself for solving your problem all on your own, especially while the earth was spinning so much faster than normal.

"Nena. You better be in your room right now." Alexia said through clenched teeth. You could hear her shuffling, and Olga speaking to her quietly.

"'M not in my room, Ale, sorry." You heard your door bang open, then, and Alexia confirm what you'd just admitted.

"I am going to kill you to death." Alexia warned. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm not totally sure where I am. There's a road... ooo and a bench. And I think a building. D'you know where I am?"

"My god. You don't know where you are?" Alexia cried, shaking off her girlfriend's advice to calm down.

"Nope. D'you?" You slurred.

"How would I know where you are!?!?" Alexia shouted. There was more shuffling, and Olga's soothing voice replaced Alexia's.

"Nena, Ale has your location. We're going to come get you now. Stay where you are, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." You said, saluting to the thin air in front of you. You hung up then, though you forgot to say goodbye, and awaited your sister eagerly.

-----

"I am going to kill her." Alexia seethed, driving well over the speed limit on the way to your little dot on her screen.

"You can kill her later, let's just make sure she's safe first." Olga sighed.

"This is Alba's fault. Or Mapi's. Or Pina and Cata's. I will find the culprit, and I will make them run so many laps..."

"She's right there," Olga interrupted, pointing to the park bench where you were sitting, looking blankly at your sister's car.

Alexia threw the car and park, and moved to throw her door open, but stopped when her girlfriend grabbed her arm.

"Alexia, she's drunk. She's not going to remember any of this tomorrow, so be nice now. You can yell later, yes?"

"Fine." Alexia sighed. She got out of the car, as did Olga, and they approached you carefully.

"ALE!!" You cheered, standing and tripping forward dangerously as you tried to tackle your sister in a hug.

"Hi." Alexia said evenly, easily catching you and helping you back upright.

"Thanks for comin' to get me," you slurred, slumping into your sister.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get you home nena."

"OLGA!!!" You yelled suddenly, turning and seeing your sister's girlfriend biting back a smile at the sight of you. You were gone. Completely gone.

"Hey nena." Olga said kindly, opening the door to the backseat for you. Alexia barely got you buckled in before you toppled completely over, now laying horizontally across the back seat.

"Ow." You said quietly. Again, Olga had to try really hard not to laugh, turning to her girlfriend, who just look exasperated.

"Maybe I should sit back there with her." The brunette suggested.

"I think that might be best." Alexia agreed, walking around to the drivers side and getting in. She looked in the rearview mirror, seeing you completely slumped on her girlfriend's shoulder, eyes already shut. It melted her heart, just a little, how much you loved Olga, and how much Olga loved you. Still, her overarching feelings right now were anger and frustration.

-----

Once Alexia had carried you from the car, deposited you on your bed, and placed a trash can and a bottle of water within your reach, she grabbed your phone, texting your friends that had clearly not been keeping an eye on you that you were home safe. She then stomped back into her room, throwing herself dramatically onto her bed.

"What was she thinking? Is she stupid? Is she the stupidest person on earth? She has to be."

"Ale, calm down." Olga said, following her in and shutting the door behind her. "Go to sleep. Deal with it tomorrow."

Alexia sighed, laying back down under the covers, before looking over to her girlfriend. "Thank you for coming. And for taking such good care of her." She said quietly.

"Always." Olga promised, pressing a light kiss to Alexia's lips.

-----

The next morning found you not laid in bed until the afternoon like you would have hoped. Instead, Alexia had dragged you out of bed at 9am, which she felt was pretty generous, threw some training clothes at you, and drove over to the Barça grounds. She had to pull over once for you to get out and throw up, but even though you were sweating, exhausted, your head was pounding, and your stomach churning, Alexia was unrelenting.

Olga was still asleep when Alexia had left with you, and you had wondered if you could text her discreetly to put an end to this before it started. Alexia had taken your phone hostage though, so that was a no go.

Now, Alexia had you running sprints. You thanked god above that it was a chillier, cloudier day, but running while you were violently hungover was still... a form of torture. She'd found a whistle, somewhere, and anytime you stopped running, she blew it at you, making the pounding in your head worse.

You managed to last 15 minutes before you stopped a few feet away from her, looking at your sister pleadingly.

"Ale, I'm gonna throw up," you warned.

Alexia's was unflinching, sunglasses down over her eyes as she stood, hands on her hips, watching you.

"I'm not stopping you." She said coldly, gesturing for you to do so.

"Ale, please," you whined.

"If you didn't want to run sprints hungover, you shouldn't have snuck out and gotten drunk." Alexia told you.

You turned away from her, throwing up what little water you'd managed to drink so far. When you were done, you turned back, finding Alexia directly behind you, holding out a sports drink.

"Drink." She instructed. You took it, chugging the whole thing as you held back a gag, knowing if you could keep any of it down, it would be somewhat helpful.

Things continued like this for another 10 minutes, until you were sure Alexia was going to keep you going until you passed out.

In fact, Alexia was just about to call it, not wanting to completely kill you, when she heard her name being shouted from just behind her.

"Alexia, what are you doing to that poor girl?!" Mapi yelled, marching towards her friend, while Ingrid broke into a run, heading towards you. You'd fallen to your knees, retching pathetically onto the grass, even as nothing came up.

"She snuck out and got drunk." Alexia dismissed, looking concerned at the sight of you on the ground, trembling violently in Ingrid's arms. Mapi grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around.

"Alexia. This is really harsh, even for you."

"Good. Maybe she'll learn her lesson." Still, Alexia couldn't help her gaze flicking over to where you were. You were okay, she was sure. She knew what you could take, and what you couldn't. You'd drink some water, take a cold shower, and sleep the rest of the day.

Mapi looked disapprovingly at her captain. "Maybe that would have taught you a lesson. I'm sure there are more effective ways of talking to your sister about this, than attempted murder."

"She's fine. I know her limits, and so does she. If she was really not well, she would have just stopped."

You wouldn't have. You knew your sister was furious, and you would have done anything to fix that. Anything. If it meant running until you dropped, so be it. Alexia didn't think you'd push yourself that hard, though. She way underestimated the lengths you would go to for her approval.

"Anyway, what are you doing here? It's an off day." Alexia questioned, beginning to walk towards you.

"Ingrid wanted to work on a few things." Mapi said.

They reached your side, and Ingrid looked up sternly at your sister, a glare set on her face.

"Ale, can we go home?" You asked pathetically. You were completely pale, covered in sweat, and you were shaking all over.

"Yeah. Let's go." Ingrid helped you to your feet, holding you steady as Alexia wrapped an arm around you, and began walking you towards the exit.

"Should we call child protective services?" Ingrid wondered sarcastically, watching Alexia drag you back to the car.

"Nah. She's 19. And Alexia will have to deal with Olga when she gets that poor kid home."

----

And have to deal with Olga, Alexia did.

She helped you into the house, the AC in the car and the endless supply of water Alexia had for you helping tremendously. You felt more alive now, and honestly, you must have sweated out a lot of the alcohol, because you didn't feel that bad.

You were still shaking, though, still pale. Alexia cringed internally when she heard Olga's feet quietly making their way towards the front door, as she helped you pull your shoes off.

"Alexia." Olga gasped. "What did you do, take her to get run over by a truck?" She walked forward, easing you away from your sister, and towards the living room, shooting her girlfriend a harsh glare over your shoulder.

"No. We had a workout to do." Alexia said casually.

"Nena, are you okay?" Olga asked softly.

You smiled up at her, relaxing back into the couch. "Yep. I thought she was going to kill me for a bit, but she didn't."

Olga sighed. You were back to joking, back to pretending that Alexia's behavior didn't bother you. Back to acting like you didn't need more support from her. This needed to stop. Now.

"Drink some water. We can try to get some food in you in a bit. Alexia, come with me." Olga's tone left no room for conversation as she headed up the stairs towards their room. Alexia didn't listen immediately to a lot of people, but Olga was one of them.

She trailed after her girlfriend a little hesitantly. She knew she'd taken it too far. She hadn't done any damage to you, but it was still too far. And Olga was about to give her hell for it. Which likely, she deserved. Alexia was stubborn, though, and she wouldn't admit to being wrong without a bit of a fight.

"Are you crazy? What were you trying to accomplish, Ale? Whatever you made her do was overkill. You didn't need to take it so far-"

"NO. She is my baby sister, and she is off getting drunk and getting lost, and-" Alexia interrupted, suddenly furious again.

"Alexia, she's 19. This is what 19 year olds' do." Olga defended.

"Not HER. She is supposed to be responsible. She is an athlete, she has responsibilities, she has people relying on her-"

Olga cut her off again. "God, amor, I cannot imagine why'd she'd feel the need to go get drunk. That doesn't seem like a lot of stress on a teenager at all."

Alexia was quiet for a moment. "If she was stressed, she would tell me. If it was too much, she would tell me." She said, though she sounded suddenly unsure.

"Would she?" Olga wondered. "You're pretty strict with her, baby. Maybe she doesn't need Stern Alexia, and tough love all the time, maybe she just needs love." This had been swirling around in Olga's head for the past few weeks, though she wasn't sure how to bring it up to her girlfriend. She'd watched as you would wilt when Alexia would give you a simple 'good job' after a game, directly followed by all the things she thought you could improve. She watched you do things, and instantly turn to your sister, to see if she was impressed or not. If Alexia was, she never let it show.

For Alexia, sternness, rigidness worked for her. She didn't need people to be soft with her, to tell her all the time that she was doing a good job, so she assumed you didn't either. Olga could tell, though, that every time Alexia ruffled your hair instead of giving you a hug, shook off your request to something fun instead of reviewing match footage, it crushed you, just a little bit.

Olga wasn't surprised that this had happened, not at all. You were acting out, trying to burn off some stress while also trying to get your sister's attention.She hoped it would finally make her girlfriend understand that you needed more from her. You were young, living away from your mom, and you needed someone to care for you, not just push you. You wanted that from your sister, too, although you were always appreciative of everything that Olga did for you.

Their argument fizzled out, and Olga realized Alexia needed space to think. She left her there to do so, heading back downstairs to check on you.

-----

You and Alexia didn't speak of the incident in the days following. You could tell something had changed, Alexia was being... different with you. Less intense.

You thought she was just really angry. Which was fair. You'd been stupid and irresponsible. She had every right to be angry. You decided to let it pass, to not push her into forgiving you sooner.

You didn't realize that Alexia was rethinking the entire dynamic she had with you, the role she played in your life. She noticed, suddenly, that you weren't as affectionate as you had been before. You didn't sit close to her on the couch when you watched TV together. You didn't pull her into a hug when you saw her. You didn't talk to her when you were upset after a game. You didn't immediately look for her when you got hurt. She'd been so focused on being the coach that she thought you needed that she'd forgotten to be the sister that you'd actually needed.

She could be your mentor without pushing you so hard, Alexia had realized. You didn't need another coach. You needed your sister. Alexia just wasn't sure how to fix what she'd broken.

When she did figure out how to fix it, it came naturally to her. It was suddenly instinctual, again, the strong feeling within her to take care of you, not push you to be better.

-----

The first time you got some idea that Alexia was making an effort to be different was a few days after The Incident, as you and Olga had named your adventure. You were coming back from seeing your friends; the very same friends you had gone out with. It had started off fine, everyone joking around about your disappearing act. As the conversation continued, though, it became clear to you that a few of them had seen you leave by yourself, and not bothered to go after you. And they had all been significantly less intoxicated than you were.

They tried to excuse their behavior by telling you they were distracted by various people they'd met up with at the club. When you pushed, asking why no one thought to keep an eye on you, or go after you when you ran out, especially after they'd been pushing drink and drink on you, enjoying how increasingly absurd you got, they got defensive. They lashed out, going on and on about how you should have been responsible, and it wasn't their job to babysit you. You knew that, but at the same time, anything could have happened to you when you ran out of the club. It was a miracle that nothing did. The argument escalated into a full blown fight, until you were shouting back and forth at each other, bringing up issues that were long resolved.

Eventually, you stormed out, walking the 15 minutes back to your sister's house, angry tears falling from your eyes. Your friends weren't the best friend's a person could have, you knew this. They were your only friends outside of football, though, the only friends that were truly your's and not also your sister's. That's probably why you kept them around so long, and you never would have thought they would care so little about your safety.

The words exchanged had been harsh, and you knew as you neared home that there was no salvaging those relationships. You were upset, everything hard about the week catching up with you. You just hoped that when you walked through the front door, Alexia and Olga would both be too busy with various tasks to notice how upset you were. Alexia hated your friends, and you knew she would tell you that what happened was for the best. That was absolutely not what you needed to hear, now, though.

You opened the door as quietly as you could, slipping your shoes off and carefully placing your keys down on the little table near the door. You turned to walk up the stairs, jumping slightly when Olga was suddenly standing directly behind you, looking at her phone.

"What do you want for dinner? Your sister and I can't agree," Olga asked, growing quiet as she looked up, spotting how upset you were. "What's wrong?" The brunette's face grew sympathetic, and you ignored how it made you want to cry.

"Nothing." You told her, dodging her attempt to rest a hand on your shoulder, and slipping up the stairs. You shut the door to your room. It was a mess in there, it was past time you cleaned it; and, anyway, you needed to do something to get your anger out, and furiously cleaning seemed like as good of an idea as any.

-----

Downstairs, Olga was conflicted. Normally, she would take this, as the more emotionally available adult in the house. She knew that you didn't want her comfort, though, not in the way you wanted your sister's. And Alexia had clearly been taking to heart what her girlfriend had told her, being noticeably different with you, even if she hadn't figured out quite how to act. So, Olga slipped off to the office, knocking and entering when she heard her girlfriend's voice beckoning her inside.

"Hey, beautiful," Alexia said, smiling from behind the desk. Olga smiled in return, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Your sister just got home from seeing her friends and I think something happened, she was really upset."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "They suck, I'm not surprised. Is she okay?"

"She ran off to her room, but she was crying." Olga replied, watching her girlfriend's expression carefully. Alexia looked conflicted, like she wasn't sure what to do.

"I'll go check on her." The blonde said finally, receiving an encouraging smile from Olga. She stood and headed towards the stairs, pausing when Olga stopped her.

"Just a tip. Telling her that her friends suck probably won't make her feel better. Even is she's mad at them. Just try to be nice." Olga suggested.

Alexia nodded, continuing on her way. Her girlfriend was more than a little amused at how nervous the blonde seemed. It was just you.

For Alexia, though, she didn't really know how to make you feel better. What would have worked for her was clearly not working for you, she saw that now. You were so different from her, so much more sensitive. She was nervous because she didn't want to say the wrong thing. She didn't realize, however, that any attempt she would make would be greatly appreciated by you.

Alexia knocked on your door, feeling a little ridiculous at how nervous she was, opening the door tentatively when you told her to come in. You were pacing around the room, folding clothes and putting things away, even as a few tears remained falling from your eyes. You looked furious as you cleaned rather aggressively, not acknowledging your sister when she walked in the room.

"Hey, nena?" Alexia called after a minute of watching you fold a shirt like you would have preferred to set it on fire. You hummed in response, still not looking towards her. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." You snapped, moving on to another shirt, throwing the recently folded one down on the bed, huffing in frustration when the action messed up your meticulous work.

Deciding not to second guess her instincts, Alexia strode forward, taking the shirt out of your hands and setting it on the bed. She turned you so that you were facing her, placing her hands on your shoulders. You still wouldn't meet her eyes, and you were a good few inches shorter than her, but she could still see your angry resolve cracking, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

You didn't want to cry in front of her, not over the friends of yours that she hated. It was a waste, and you knew she wouldn't give you the sympathy that you wanted. That just wasn't how Alexia was.

"C'mere," Alexia said softly, wrapping her arms around you and bringing you into a tight hug.

Until this point, Alexia wasn't sure she quite understood what you needed from her. The second you melted into her arms, though, like a hug was all you'd needed, it became very clear. Olga was right; you'd just needed love.

Your shoulders were shaking with silent cries, as if you were trying to keep them quiet, and Alexia frowned, arms squeezing you tighter.

"You can cry, cariño, if you're upset. It's okay to cry." She whispered. Admittedly, expressing emotion wasn't something she was good with. She hadn't realized the effect this had on you expressing your emotions before now.

You cried into your sister's shoulder, no longer holding back after her words of encouragement, for a solid 5 minutes. Alexia didn't shy away from the display of feelings like you expected her to. Instead, she sat you on the side of your bed, carefully wiping the remaining tears off your face with the sleeve of her sweater.

Still sniffling pathetically, you looked down at our hands, not sure if you should tell her what happened, if she'd want to hear. Alexia caught your hesitation, sitting down next to you, and bumping your knee with hers. "Tell me what happened."

You took a deep breath, before launching into the story. Alexia grew tense next to you, clearly with anger, but you weren't sure who it was directed at. If it was at the reminder of how irresponsible you'd been, or if it was at your friends. When you finished, Alexia was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

"They suck." She said finally, before shaking her head at herself. "No, Olga told me not to say that. You deserve better friends than them, especially if their are so unconcerned with your safety and wellbeing. What if you hadn't had your phone? What if something had happened? I wouldn't have known where you were, you could have been hurt." Alexia went on, growing more agitated.

"I'm sorry, Ale," you told her.

"No, no. I am angry with them." Alexia said earnestly. "For being so careless with you. They should have been looking out for you. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you, but I probably would have started with ruining their lives."

Protective Alexia wasn't a side of your sister you'd seen in a while. Not since you were 11 and you'd told her that a boy had tried to kiss you on the playground. She'd skipped training to march to your school, asking you to point out the boy. You had, and she'd held him up against the brick wall of the building by the collar of his shirt, warning him to never so much as look at you, ever again. He was appropriately terrified, and no one tried to mess with you again after that.

It was nice, feeling protected by your sister. It felt safe. It made you feel loved.

-----

Even after the conversation about your friends, Alexia still didn't acknowledge that something had changed.

Until after a rather rough match against Atlético. You were having an off day, your passes not connecting, your shots just barely missing the back of the net. She could tell you were frustrated, and she wasn't sure how to make you feel better. Normally, she'd give you a pat on the back, tell you to push through and focus. Alexia realized now, though, that you didn't need that from her.

Still, it was the middle of the match, and there wasn't time for a pep talk. She'd have to wait until the match was over, and then she could figure out what to say to you. Now, she needed to focus.

Alexia did focus. She focused on taking the corner, watching the ball sail towards your head. She focused on Lola's gloved hand extending towards the ball, and connecting squarely with your face. Alexia saw you drop to the ground, clutching tightly to your nose. The whistle blew immediately, and half the team was looking down at you uneasily, waving urgently for the medical staff. Lola was crouched by your head, clearly making repetitive apologies.

Normally, when you got hurt, Alexia kept her distance. She didn't want to suffocate you, and she didn't want to act unprofessional. On the pitch, you were teammates. Appearances didn't matter, though, not really, and she could be your older sister too, she knew.

Alexia sprinted to you, shoving players of both teams out of her way in her quest to get to your side. Lola saw her barreling towards her, and wisely backed up, leaving the spot just above you open, while the medics were arriving on either side of you.

You were still on your stomach, clutching tightly to your face, feeling hot blood seep into your hand. It was broken. You'd heard the crunch. And, like always when you got hurt, you wanted your sister to come hold your hand. You knew she wouldn't. She had to be professional, she had a reputation to protect. You were surprised when her soft voice met your ear.

"Hey, nena, can you roll over for us?"

Although your position smushed into the turf felt like the most comfortable you could get currently, you slowly rolled onto your back with a groan.

"Oh, honey," Alexia whispered, taking in the sight of your very broken nose, blood pooling all over your face.

"Broken," you mumbled, the movement of speaking hurting, blood filling your mouth. So as not to allow you to choke, Alexia and one of the medics carefully sat you up, tipping you forward, allowing your nose to drip into the towel being help against your face.

"She's right, I heard it break," Lola added, still hovering near you. It had been completely accidental, what she'd done, and she felt guilty. She backed up, though, when Alexia shot her a harsh glare.

"Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Are you going to pass out?" Alexia asked anxiously, knowing that you weren't a fan of blood. The medics exchanged amused looks at your suddenly overbearing sister, as you looked at her, less amused, and slightly comforted.

"No. Fine. Hurts't talk." You got out, closing your eyes as the pain intensified. Alexia's hand rubbed circles into your back, and you were floored when she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, right in front of the entire stadium, before looking to the medic for permission to help you to your feet. When he nodded and grabbed your other arm, they got you up, supporting you all the way to the sidelines, where another medic took over for you sister.

"Should I tell Jona to take me off?" Alexia asked you, still glued to your side, even as you neared the tunnel.

"No, go win." You spit some blood onto the ground, barely managing the words, and Alexia agreed uneasily, watching you all the way back inside.

The rest of the team was looking at her like she had two heads. Never before had they seen her be so nurturing with you, so outwardly worried. Alexia loved you, no one doubted that. She was just normally much more reserved about showing affection for her youngest sister.

-----

By the time Alexia got back to the locker room post match she was startled to see that you weren't in sitting in front of your locker waiting for her, or with the team doctors. They informed you that Olga had taken you home. You had a slight concussion, and your nose was broken, but didn't need to be reset, and you didn't want to wait for most of the second half to finish for your sister, so when Olga offered to take you home, you took her offer gratefully.

She sped through her shower and her post match routine, continuing to ignore the surprised expressions on her teammates face, and the rather satisfied one on Mapi's; the defender was finally seeing the return of the Older Sister Alexia she knew.

Alexia arrived home, abandoning her bag in the car and rushing inside. She wanted to make sure you were okay, more than anything. More than anything. It was like she'd just remembered that she was your sister, not just your captain, and her instinct to protect you was overwhelming her.

She marched right into the house, finding you laid on the couch, your head resting in Olga's lap an ice pack held over your nose by your sister's girlfriend, who was telling you an animated story about the crazy fan she'd run into in the stands today.

"Nena," Alexia sighed, feeling slightly better at the sight of you, more or less in one piece.

You sat up, still rather confused at the complete 180˚ your sister had done. "Hi." You had a rather disconcerting lisp to your speech, your lip swelling from the contact with the opposing goalkeeper's glove.

Alexia sat right next to you, removing the ice pack, and inspecting your face carefully.

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"Not as much now. The ice is helping."

"Have you eaten? Taken anything? You should drink a lot of water, and ice every 15 minutes, and make sure you sleep propped up on a pillow, and we should go to the dentist tomorrow, just to make sure your teeth are okay." Alexia rambled, gently nudging your lip up to look at the swollen gums surrounding your upper front teeth. "Are they loose? If they're loose, we should go to the dentist now."

You exchanged a look with Olga. You were rather confused, while she just looked pleased with herself.

"They're not loose. I feel fine, Ale, and I ate some pasta. I think I'm just going to go to bed, I'm really tired."

You stood, keeping the ice pressed to your nose, catching the slightly frantic look on your sister's face. "You'll wake me up if it hurts, or if something is wrong, right?" She questioned.

"Yeah, if you want me to." You told her.

She nodded, relieved. "I would like you to."

"Okay. Goodnight, guys." Before you could step away from the couch, Alexia was standing and pulling you into a gentle hug, being extra careful with... your entire face. She kissed your forehead, before shooing you off towards the stairs.

Bewildered but pleased with your sister's odd behavior, you headed for bed, hoping that Alexia would be more normal, if still just as caring, tomorrow.

-----

You knew that was out of the question when your door opened softly an hour after you went to bed. You turned, not having fallen asleep yet, seeing your sister stood in the doorway, a blanket in hand, worrying her lip between her teeth.

"What's up?"

"Can I sleep in here? I'm worried about your face, I can't fall asleep." Alexia admitted, taking one step forward before pausing, looking anxiously at you.

You blinked at her for a minute, wondering if this was some kind of bizarre dream where your sister had undergone a personality transplant, before nodding.

"If you want," you agreed, scooting over to make room for you sister. She climbed onto the bed eagerly, smiling at you. You smiled back, wondering if it was possible that your sister was on drugs. She took several minutes to get comfortable, settling under the covers before turning on her side to face where you lay on your back, eyes closed. You could feel her watching you.

"Alexia you can't sleep in here if you're going to stare at me all night like a psychopath." You said, not opening your eyes.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just worried. I'll stop now." Alexia promised, rolling onto her back too.

You didn't say anything for a moment, not wanting to ruin the very sweet moment you were having with you sister, but also feeling curiosity burn through you.

"You're being really weird." You said finally.

Alexia sighed, like she'd known this was coming.

"Am I dying or something and no one bothered to tell me? Is that why you're being so nice to me?" You were only half joking. Alexia sighed again, and somehow, it sounded guilty. "Am I?" You asked, opening your eyes and looking at the blonde.

"No, idiota, you aren't dying. I'm just... I'm trying to be a better sister."

You heard all the time that your sister was awkward, but you'd never really gotten that vibe from her until now.

"Oh. Okay. You're a good sister already, Ale." You said gruffly, looking away from her.

Alexia blinked at you. "Well, I'm glad you think so, but there is always room for improvement. You shouldn't be surprised when I'm nice to you, or take care of you. That should be normal."

"Thanks." You said after a minute, clearing your throat. You hated when Alexia was so nice it made you cry. Hated it.

"You don't have to thank me. I love you, hermanita." Alexia said, and there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her voice.

You were so going to tell Alba about this, and make fun of Alexia endlessly for being so bad at human emotions. For now, though, you rolling into her side a little, resting your head on her shoulder.

"I love you too, Ale."

Alexia smiled to herself. God, she normally hated when her girlfriend proved her wrong, but this time, it had been so needed. She was greatful for Olga, and for you, for being so forgiving. It was very youngest sister of you, never holding a grudge. She loved you. A lot. She was going to be better about showing it.

-----

this got out of hand i won't lie.

hope you enjoyed :)

[604to647]

What Was I Made For?

3.1K / Frankenstein AU Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Left on his own, Tim learns a new way to live.

Warnings: None! Age gap cause Tim’s like hundreds of years old 🤷🏻‍♀️😂 Semi-sentient woodland creatures that meddle, I guess 🤭

A/N: Inspired by @almostfoxglove’s beautiful AU moodboard below - if you haven't already, check out that post and the tags, along with all her other AU moodboards! Thank you so much for sharing them with us 🥹🥰

Title by Billie Eilish / Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 🥰

For a very long time, Tim did not go outside during the daytime.

Father said not to.

And even though Father has been gone for many years, Tim still heeded his words.  His being the only voice Tim had ever heard.

He still doesn’t know why Father left.  He’s even less sure of why he never returned.

Merge Mansion remains dark, even during the day.  Its halls empty, its candelabras unlit.  If anyone was to pass through the ivy choked iron gates and listen at its door, and no one ever did, they would hear only the skittering of mice and the occasional heavy footstep, so slow and deliberate it could be mistaken for the heartbeat of a slowly dying house.

Only ever at night, Tim goes out to the woods behind the now dusty and crumbling mansion.  Those same woods where Father would have him lift, throw, break - repeatedly.  And Father would write furiously in his notebooks.  Tim thinks maybe that’s what he was made for.

For more years than can be counted, enough so that he passes into legend, Tim continues to do what he knows.  He uproots trees and plants and heaves them over knolls and into streams.  He rolls boulders and smashes rocks.  He haunts the forest alone until the dawn threatens to pierce through the thick overhang of the old growth trees; hiding within the moss-covered stone walls of the only home he’s ever known until night brings cover once again.

Until one night after so many nights, he just… doesn’t.  Instead of his nightly exertion to prove something to the darkness, Tim just sits and bathes in the pureness of the moonlight.  He breathes in the earthy musk of the forest’s damp soil and the sweet scent of pine mixed with bark sap.  Instead of his own laboured breathing, Tim finally hears the babbling of the brooks, the hooting of the owls, and soft breeze whistling between the low berry bushes and the high tree tops.  Tim doesn’t know if he was made to be at peace, but he finds that he can do it all the same.

He teaches himself to read.  At first using words Father would say and the signs he would point to in the room Tim lived in: Lock.  Unlock.  Hot.  Cold.  On.  Off.  Danger.  Stop.

Then from books about nature that he finds in the library, remembering words that Father would use to describe their surroundings when in the woods that Tim now knows so well.

Tree.  Rock.  Hill.  Hole.

It takes a very, very long time.  But Tim has nothing but time.

He’s not even sure if he’s doing it right - he has no one to ask.  Not that he could even if there was.  He says the words in his head the way he thinks they sound, but with no voice, never out loud.  He wasn’t made for that.

It’s no matter.  Even if he isn’t sure he’s sounding them out properly, Tim thinks he’s assigned the words to the pictures in the books of animals and landscapes correctly.  There are other books, as well.  Ones with illustrations that are foreign to him and where the words denote meaning that he doesn’t think he will ever understand, but he learns them anyways:  Music.  Dance.  Laugh.  Feast.  Love.

In his woods, Tim no longer destroys: he clears, builds, tends.  Tim carves out paths that feel softer on the bottoms of his lumbering feet.  He removes dead branches from healthy trunks and uses them to sweep the forest floor.  He rolls away dead trees, some fell by age or disease, others by his own hand in the olden days when he thought that was what he was made for.

He still only does these things under the cover of night.  Father had said to be afraid of the village at the bottom of the looming hill upon which Merge Mansion perched.  He warned Tim that if he was discovered, the villagers would come and hurt them both.  Tim wishes that he had known the words or had the voice to tell Father that he would have protected him.  That perhaps it was the villagers who should have been afraid of him. Father’s notebooks say that he was built to be fierce. 

The bunnies in the woods do not seem to think so.  Nor the foxes, or the badgers, or the mice.  The deer do not find Tim to be fearsome, and the birds readily to flock to him.

He supposes it’s because he starts to help them build their nests; his long legs easily carry him to the farthest corners of the woods where the best nesting materials can be gathered.  He volunteers his big, pawlike hands to dig their burrows and holes.  His strength he uses to drag logs and branches to where whole furry families reside, breaking the thick wood into smaller pieces to help them expand and fortify their homes for their growing broods and the incoming weather.  He’s tall enough to lift baby birds back into their nests when they fall out before they’re ready to fly.  He forages and shares all his bounty, himself having no need for sustenance. 

Tim would not mind if this is what he was made for.

The years continue to pass.  The village at the bottom of the hill gets less busy, smaller, and is eventually gone.  Tim only knows because he witnesses the number of tiny square windows illuminated by bright candles during the night, dwindle until there is only darkness.

From the now dilapidated walls of Merge Mansion, Tim watches as what remains of the village rots and is reclaimed by the Earth.  It looks less frightening to him the way it stands now, wild and lush - much more like his beloved forest where he’s only ever known friendly creatures.

It’s the bunnies who convince him to come out in the daytime. 

It had been an especially abundant year for the rabbits, with baby bunnies almost overrunning the forest floor.  The mamas plead with Tim using their big brown eyes to help round up their little ones and keep them safe, making sure none of them strayed too far from the safety of the woods.

Little bunnies are hard to see in the dark.

The first time Tim steps outside during the day, he’s so blinded by the sky’s brightness that he thinks perhaps his eyes were not made for sunlight.  His forest is so green in the daytime.  A richness of browns with the occasional pop of red, blue, even lavender.  In the winters, the snow is so white during the day it appears almost clear.  Once the snow has melted, the streams splash with fish that jump during the day – something that never happens at night.  The sun’s beams warm Tim’s rough skin in a way the moon’s cold, comfortable ambiance never has.  The sounds of the forest are so much louder, cheerier in the day than they are at night – it strikes Tim as odd given it’s the same forest but he supposes he feels more alive during the day as well.

The deer are the ones that lead him out of the forest and to the front of the house.  The overgrown grass on the Merge Mansion hill begs to be grazed on, and with the village gone, Tim and the deer while away many days unseen and unbothered amongst the soft green blades – looking out to a splendid view of rolling plains and sprawling forests stretching all the way to the horizon.  He never strays far from the house - still heeding Father’s words of caution even though the dangers he warned against look to be long gone.

Tim doesn’t even know that another village has sprung up somewhere on the other side of a low mountain that he considers to be more than a fair distance away until you.  The first time he sees you, you’re but a little girl and you come with your own father to the cemetery that rests at the bottom of his hill, where it once bordered the old village.  The same cemetery from which Father gathered the parts that make up Tim as he is, if Father’s notebooks are to be believed.  The deer scamper away before you or your father see them, but Tim stays and hides, watches.

He hears your father tell you that these graves belong to your ancestors who once lived in the old village that’s now gone and that even though you live on the other side of the mountain, you should still pay your respects.  Tim listens to your cheery chatter and the hum of your father’s merry tunes as the two of you clean the gravestones, pull the weeds, plant fresh gardens.

You and your father come every week and Tim begins to look forward to it.  He watches you grow into a beautiful woman and your father into an old man.  He listens to the musical lilt of your voice and the gentle teasing of your father as the two of you care for and nurture the plot of land at the base of the Merge Mansion Hill so that it grows vibrant and fragrant with flowers that he’s only ever seen in Father’s books.  He hears your father tell you stories he heard as a child about the house that Tim lives in – the legend of a mad scientist and a terrible monster.  Tim doesn’t know why, but he feels relief when you laugh at these stories and call them ridiculous.

When your father stops coming with you, Tim watches over you in his stead.  You continue to do your duty in the cemetery joyfully and your sweetness is like an invitation.  The bunnies and the foxes and the mice and the deer all come down to join you.  You laugh and share your food with them and they enjoy your company as much as you do theirs.  Music.  Dance.  Laugh.  Feast.  He thinks he finally understands.  When his furry friends turn their soulful eyes up to the house, Tim knows they’re looking to him to come down but he shakes his head no.  He’s not made for this.

He doesn’t know that you see him anyways.

You’ve known he was there since the days you would come to this cemetery with your father as a little girl.  Most times as just a shadow on the Merge Mansion grounds, but once or twice you had seen Tim’s handsome, haunted face in one of the cracked windows.

You don’t know who he is or what he is, but some how you know that you have to pretend that you’re unaware of his presence.  As if for some laughable reason, he finds you to be frightening.

So, you try to make yourself to be as nonintimidating as possible.  You wear soft flowing fabrics that lie prettily over your equally soft skin in pleasing colours that compliment the hue of your hair and the brightness of your eyes.  You keep your voice gentle and the sound of your notes harmonious when you sing or hum your favourite songs of love and fantasy.  When your father tells you the old stories of the Merge Mansion Monster, you make sure to loudly decry this characterization.  Your unseen friend is not a monster, and you want to make sure that he knows you know that.

Your woodland friends who proclaim to know him best seem to say, give him time.  So you do, waiting patiently for a sign.  For what?  You don’t know.  Just a sign for more.

It comes one summer day, many, many years after your weekly trips to the cemetery became solo trips.  For two weeks, you’ve been in a state of mild panic, unable to find the delicate gold chain necklace that your father gave you - his last gift to you before he passed.  A part of you fears that it may have come unclasped and dropped onto the path some time during your weekly trip to the Merge Mansion cemetery; your heart clenches – if that was the case, your treasured necklace is surely lost.

Your surprise when you find your necklace waiting for you on top of a gravestone next to a small tied bundle of lavender is palpable.  Your eyes threaten to overflow with tears as you look up the hill to the house and mouth, thank you.

You don’t know that you had actually lost your necklace next to this very gravestone and that one of your bluebird friends had carried it up to Tim in its beak.  Tim spends two weeks practicing making the small bouquet of lavender – his large and clumsy hands unused to the precise and delicate movements required.  He refers to the instructions in the book he found so many times he can see the diagrams in his sleep.  But he keeps trying until he gets it right – wanting to offer you something more than just your returned necklace as a token of his appreciation for all the work you do.  Holding the delicate chain in his oversized hand, he can’t stop looking at it glittering in the moonlight and admiring its intricate craftsmanship.  It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.  Well, second.

The next week, Tim discovers a large and fragrant bouquet of the cemetery’s best and biggest blooms laid outside of his iron gates.

Three weeks later, on the same gravestone, you find those flowers dried and pressed, then laced together in a pretty flower crown.

You weave your own from new fresh flowers and leave it in place of the dried one you take home.  The following week, the crown you made is gone, and in its place, a large pile of fresh wild berries that must come from the forest behind the mansion.

The squirrels had objected, but Tim promised that the reduction of berries from their weekly hoard would be for a good cause.  You helped prove him right the following week when he returned from the hill with a jar of wild berry jam which he happily shared.

This continues for months.  Each week a small, thoughtful trinket exchanged - neither you or Tim having much to offer except your consideration and time.  The giddy anticipation and resulting awe a gift in itself.

The day you bring a blanket that took you six weeks to knit, you’re imbued with a bravery (the source of which is unknown even to you) that brings you all the way to Tim’s doorstep.  The heavy door opens when you push against it, but no one answers when you call out.

While Tim is in the woods assisting with the birth of a newborn deer, you’re wandering the dark, musty halls of Merge Mansion.  You find where you think Tim must sleep: in a room that looks like a lab - electrical wire equipment, gurneys, restraints and medical utensils long since pushed against the walls of the room and abandoned.

You read the notebooks left behind by the scientist and seethe on Tim’s behalf.  To call him a Creature!  To experiment on him and put him through trials of endurance and strength as if he was merely an instrument for violence!  You’re grateful that Tim’s creator must be long dead by now, else he might not be able to escape the vitriol you feel rising in your chest at the mistreatment Tim endured at his hand.

You leave the blanket and the mansion in a hurry.

When Tim comes back into the house, he knows immediately that you were there.  He smells you.  The sweet floral perfume from your garden and the sticky scent of fruit from your jams hangs in the air.  Nothing in this house or the forest smells quite so lovely.  You were here. 

With growing distress, he finds your thoughtful gift in the room where he sleeps and knows that you’ve read Father’s notebooks.  You know the truth of what he is now.  He’ll never see you again.

But you come back.

You leave him a letter and for three weeks, he reads it every day. 

It’s a letter that tells him about yourself and your family, and how you came to be his weekly visitor.  You tell him how you’ve always known he’s been there but you were afraid to scare him away so you never let on that you saw him.  You tell him that now that you’ve calmed down a bit, you’re not quite so angry at Father but you do think that he didn’t understand Tim’s true nature, or perhaps, you concede, he simply wasn’t gifted enough time to understand. 

You tell him what you think of his nature.  In your experience, men who are strong are rarely gentle and those who harness power are hardly ever giving.  But Tim is.  His hands, arms and muscles may be sewn together from much lesser men, but he, Tim, wields his strength to protect and look after others.  His heart may not be able to pull down trees or break rock, but it’s tender and pure – and where his true power lies.

You write that even though you’ve never met him face to face, you only ever feel safe and cared for knowing he’s around.  And you hope that even if he never forgives you for trespassing in his home and going through his personal belongings without his permission, he will take your words to heart.

Every week you come back to the doors of Merge Mansion bearing a small gift and a big apology, but Tim is nowhere to be found.  You’re starting to fear that you’ve crossed an unforgiveable boundary and ruined your indescribable but cherished connection, when the most wonderous sight awaits you as you near the top of the hill nearly a month after you left your letter.

Tim. 

Impossibly large and broad, a hulk of a man is sitting on the front steps waiting for you.  His face is hard, lined from time and worry, but his eyes are soft and vulnerable.  You see some trace of old scars along his forehead and neck, and down the worn skin that stretches over the corded muscles of his forearms.  His clothes are outdated and entirely the wrong size, but somehow it works on him.  He looks formidable.  Wild, yet tame.  Handsome.

You run to him, beaming.  Tim stands when you come to a stop in front of him, towering over you as he holds out a bouquet of wildflowers picked from the forest lands behind his home that he tends to so carefully.

When you reach out to accept, your small fingers brush his larger calloused ones, and the jolt of electricity that passes between the two of you feels like pure joy.  And although Tim can only offer a quiet grunt, unable to say the words that he wishes he could sing with his whole chest, you understand him perfectly.  Your incandescent smile and hopeful expression reassure him that you too, recognize the simple, unspoken truth: Tim was made for you.

🎶Obligatory Billie Eilish, What Was I Made For lyrics🎶:

'Cause I, 'cause I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday I might Someday I might

Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be Something I wait for Something I'm made for Something I'm made for

[ravendarkwood]

Some of my favorite things about Chayanne!

He likes swimming! The reason Phil has that bath outside of his house is because that was a little swimming area for Chayanne when Philza and Missa first build his house. Swimming was one of the first things he did when they got him up the wall (it was very cute). I also very distinctly remember a moment where Phil and Chayanne visited Bad's house, and Chayanne took off his armor and swam for a bit in this two by two infinite water source that Bad had inside his house while Phil and Bad talked. He wants to be a water dragon when he hatches into a dragon.

He likes being up high! Or, if there's a random block up a bit higher than other blocks Chayanne will get up onto it. A very popular choice is that orange wool that is outside of his house. If I remember correctly Missa gave it to him for a bed (this was the first day and they didn't know how the eggs operated so they didn't know that he had like a bed bed. They also fed him seeds for a while because they didn't know he needed actual food).

Chayanne used to throw himself off of the wall a lot, which is why the fence and walls were put up. I think he enjoys making his fathers worry and likes exciting things. I saw a twitter post point out that Chayanne used to be a lot more disobedient until one day that led to Ramon's first death, and that's been living rent free in my head.

Chayanne can be suspicious of strangers! The first time that Wilbur showed up at Chayanne's house he attacked him before Phil reassured Chayanne that Wil was a friend. Another time this is illustrated is that one of the first times Chayanne met Richarlyson he asked him a bunch of questions trying to figure out here he came from.

Going off that last bit, Chayanne is actually interested in knowing about the mysteries going on in the island when it pertains to the safety of others. He questioned Richarlyson when he first showed up, asking where he came from and if he was a danger to others, and the day that Phil had to defend Chayanne , Richarlyson, and Leo from the code Phil actually wanted to leave early, but Chayanne wanted to stay because he was eavesdropping on the other adults because they were talking about the eggs.

Chayanne is very quiet! He's said a few times that he struggles with words and expressing himself, and he uses body language to communicate a lot. One of my favorite moments is when he threw Phil is sword, and then started shift dancing on top of the anvil because it was low on durability and he wanted Phil to repair it. Phil was talking to Wil at the same time, and didn't know what Chayanne meant until he clarified it.

Speaking of shift dancing, Chayanne does it a lot. One of my favorite dance moves is when he jumps in the air, spins in a circle, all while shifting. It just makes Chayanne look very excitable and I think it's cute.

If I remember correctly Chayanne's first pet was the white cat that's in the boat outside of Phil's house. It's name is Avocado. Chayanne seems to really enjoy small animals in general, having cats, raccoons, parrots, and axolotls as pets. Phil actually took Chayanne and Tallulah into a cave, and Chayanne took a dive off of the cliff to get one of the axolotls, which lead to a bunch of mobs attacking him. I think that one was one of the two that lived in the pond in front of the house, but I think they accidentally got wiped when other mobs got deleted.

Going off of the last point, when Chayanne sees a raccoon in the wild, he'll pause, crouch down in front of it, stare at it for a few seconds, before going back to running again.

Despite what Phil says, Chayanne actually does enjoy decorating and things looking good. He and Tallulah decorated the basement together, and he argued a bit with BBH when he told Chayanne to use the block enforcer in his safe room because it would make the blocks ugly. He was wanting to decorate his safe room for a while before they got to it.

Chayanne also has some Autumnal vibes to him. When he decorates he uses a lot of oranges and yellows and dark woods and red leaves, and uses jack-o-lanterns a lot for lighting. Since he's gotten it he's also been favoring his jack-o-lantern staff when not in fights, a few times conjuring a Mr. Pumpkin to hang around him. He also has a lot of death vibes, but so does his entire family so.

Chayanne wears a skull helmet a lot when he doesn't need to wear full armor. Missa made him a whole set so they could match, and Chayanne likes wearing it. Recently he's also been wearing a king's crown a lot more, and mixed with Bonnie's "he smells like an old king" thing, this is most likely a reference to Technoblade.

After coming back with cracks Chayanne was very disappointed with himself and that his siblings and him got hurt, and even said that he wanted to be strong like Technoblade. Phil managed to cheer him up by giving him a pep talk about getting back up when pushed down and if Chayanne was Phil's little hero.

Chayanne tends to write and all lowercase, including referring to himself and other's names, but that's not an always thing.

Chayanne and Tallulah are pretty much a team at this point. They'll very often say things like "I've got your back" and things like that to each other when they need reassurance. I bet a lot of people who don't watch Phil have seen Chayanne's "u and me, u and me always" sign to Tallulah when she was extremely distressed about being dirty.

Chayanne tends not to hit people. This is true of Tallulah and Phil too, with Phil only hitting Chayanne or Tallulah by accident or like when it's meant to be a high five or something, and Tallulah gets into slap fights with Chayanne sometimes when they disagree with each other or hits Phil when he says a joke she doesn't like, but Chayanne doesn't usually hit people? When he wants someone to read his sign he stands next to it and does a shift dance or jumps until they notice.

My favorite scene with Chayanne and Phil:

Chayanne: "I mean, gosh I'm bad with words! I don't want to die, I won't die soon, I take everything you [Philza] showed us seriously. Thank you so much of [for?] that. When the giant squid grabbed me I was shaking bc [because] I thought that was the end of it. So yeah, it's not a good feeling."

[A few minutes where they talk about pictures, and Chayanne seems to collect his thoughts?]

"There's something else I want to say. Last time with Forever, I spent so much time out of home. It was nice but felt weird. I'm always saying I want to go to dungeons, but my life so far has been pretty chill. And you know what, I love it it's perfect. I wouldn't change it."

Philza: "Aw, I'm glad Chayanne, I'm glad. I was getting a bit worried I'll be honest when I came back from TwitchCon or wherever and I heard that you had been going through dungeons and stuff and you had so much fun I was like 'aw man. Am I a bad dad?'."

Chayanne: "I once said this to Dad Missa. I don't envy anyone, or anything. I love our current family."

This turned out way longer than I meant it to be. I dunno, what are some of your favorite things about your favorite eggs that people might not know?

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

boom! l Javi Gutierrez

Summary:  Javi almost hit you with his car, that's how it all started

Warnings:  just fluff, you're safe, kissing, a little bit og wine, Javi is cute and sweet, mi amor

 A/N: no one asked, but i needed this. this is gonna be boring and sweet as cotton candy. i think we all need a date like this. let's forget i wrote that.

He remembered the day he first met his mi amor. It was a hot afternoon, his car was speeding through the streets of a sleepy town - maybe a little too fast - and the beautiful mi amor appeared out of nowhere in front of him. You almost fell into his arms, although you thought you almost fell under the wheels of his car.

You threw every curse word you knew at him, called him an idiot and said that his macho style would eventually get someone killed and knowing your luck - it would be you.

And he just stood next to the car, with his brown eyes wide open, wavy hair falling in disarray and slightly parted lips staring at you as if he saw the eighth wonder of the world.

He didn't say a word. He just stared at you until all the emotions flowed out of you.

"Hey! Are you okay?" you finally asked, snapping your fingers in front of his eyes.

"Mi amor..." he replied, a smile lighting up his face "It's a twist of fate that we ran into each other!"

"More like your reckless driving." You mumbled. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"More than ever."

You didn't want to continue this strange conversation. You backed away with the thought of going home, but every time you turned around, the man was still there, still staring at you with that same absent gaze.

You couldn't have known that Javi Gutierrez had just met his match.

You might have wanted to forget about the whole event, but Javi couldn't forget about you. When you left the house the next day, you saw him standing on the other side of the street.

It was a bit strange and unsettling. You knew too many horror stories about stalkers, but you didn't know if any of them lit up at the sight of their victim like this man did when you appeared before his eyes.

"Wait!" he called as after a moment of hesitation you quickened your pace "Mi amor, wait!"

"What are you doing here?" you hissed "How do you know where I live? Are you following me?"

"That's a very unfortunate choice of words. It would mean that I'm a stalker or some other freak." He caught up to you and saw how you raised your eyebrows "And you would have the right to think so." He added hastily "I wanted to apologize, mi amor. For what happened yesterday."

He overtook you and pulled a bouquet of red roses from behind his back. That made you stop.

You looked at the flowers and at the man holding them. You didn't see anything dangerous in his gaze, quite the opposite. He seemed really nice and sorry about yesterday's accident. You took the flowers from him, and his cheerful smile completely melted your heart.

"Thank you, mi amor." he said, delighted. "You don't even know what a relief it is for me. I wouldn't forgive myself if you hated me for what I did."

"Please, it's okay."

"Now for sure. I'm Javi, and you?"

"You know where I live, but you don't know my name?" you smiled slyly.

Javi let out a loud breath through his teeth, clearly caught red-handed.

"Yeah, you're right. But it's nice to finally meet you, Y/N."

There was something charming and intriguing about him. He reminded you of a puppy that demanded your attention and got excited when he finally got it. And it was sweet.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" he blurted out.

"I barely know you, Javi."

"My name is Javi Gutiérrez. I live over there." He pointed to an impressive building on a nearby hill. "I can show you my driver's license if you want." He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a plastic disk.

"That's not necessary." You laughed. "You're very..."

"Creepy? Intrusive?"

"Involved."

"That's good, right?" he looked at you uncertainly.

"I guess so. I'm free today, if that's okay with you."

"Yes! Of course! I'll pick you up at 8, is that okay?"

"Sure. Bye, Javi."

This was his second favorite day.

Was what you were doing irresponsible? Probably a little bit. However, Javi had something that drew you to him and you wanted to see what it was. Despite everything, you didn't kid yourself and took into account the fact that your first date could also be your last. So you wanted to have fun.

However, all courage escaped from you like the air from a balloon when you left the house at the agreed time.

Javi was waiting for you by the car, just as he promised. Dressed in a dark, well-tailored suit, a white shirt slightly unbuttoned under his neck, revealing his skin touched by the sun. His hair was tamed and he looked really...

"Wow..." you mumbled, approaching him "I didn't know it was so formal. My dress looks very... ordinary next to you."

"You look phenomenal, mi amor." he replied, and you felt that he was really serious.

He took your hand and kissed the back of it, probably deciding to use all his charm on you. It was easy to fall under his spell, and you definitely jumped in headfirst.

Maybe it was the way he treated you? Maybe you had never felt before that someone was so totally focused on you and your needs? Or maybe all of that plus the wonderful view from the terrace where you were having dinner and sipping really good wine.

You didn't pull your hand away when his fingers started stroking the back of it, and it brought him relief. God! If only you knew what was going on in his head at that moment.

Javi tried to keep his emotions in check. He didn't want to scare you and make you run away from him. He wanted everything to be perfect, just like you.

"So..."

You were walking along the seaside, the water pleasantly washing over your bare feet. The cloudless sky was filled with thousands of stars, and the calm sound of waves filled the silence.

"So you often try to run over some girl and then ask her out?"

"No, not really." Javi laughed quietly "It was an accident. But a very, very successful accident."

"Do you think so?" you looked at his handsome profile.

"Definitely. You're one of a kind, mi amor."

You smiled.

"I think you're straight out of a fairy tale or something."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. No one's ever treated me like you did before." You shrugged and stopped. "If you're just playing with me, say so. If you just want to fuck me, then..."

"Mi amor!" Javi seemed genuinely offended. "Why do you say that? Did I do something to make you think that?"

"No, I just..."

You looked down. You felt stupid. Javi was a charming man, and you still decided to suspect he had some nefarious intentions towards you.

"Hey, sweetheart." he grabbed your chin and lifted it so you looked straight into his shining eyes "Maybe once, a long time ago, some idiot hurt you, but it wasn't me, you know. Yesterday... God! When I saw you, it was like a lightning strike. Boom!"

"Boom?"

“Boom!” Javi raised his hands in excitement.

"You're crazy!" you laughed.

"Crazy? I'll show you what madness is. C'mon, mi amor!"

He grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the water.

"W-What are you doing?! Javi!"

He was already waist-deep in water and was pulling you even deeper. Your dress stuck to your body, but Javi was still in his suit. At some point, you lost ground under your feet. Panic crept into your heart.

"J-Javi?" you grabbed his hand tighter.

"You can't swim, mi amor?" he asked tenderly, then moved closer to you.

"I'm not the best at this." you answered uncertainly.

"I'll help you. Will you let me?"

You nodded and felt Javi's arms wrap around your waist. It gave you some stability and a sense of security.

"Better?"

"Yes. Much better."

The waves lazily carried you away, but Javi was like a safe haven for you. You could smell his pleasant scent, and his body was warm, despite the water surrounding you.

"Are you cold, mi amor?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"You're shivering."

You bit your lip, feeling the heat pouring down your neck and cheeks. You were grateful that Javi couldn't see it in the dark, but he could definitely feel how your body tensed up nervously. His hand ran tenderly over your back.

"Hey, I won't hurt you." he said calmly. "I'd cut my arm off if I did."

"You don't have to do this."

"But I want to!"

"Javi, I trust you. I don't know why, because I barely know you, but I trust you. Is this madness?"

He smiled, and you noticed those cute little wrinkles around his eyes that looked at you with such tenderness.

"Maybe we're both crazy, mi amor." he replied. "Is that bad?"

"Tell me yourself."

"I think I'd like to kiss you now."

Now it was you who smiled. Your fingers unconsciously played with his hair, and you noticed how natural it all was for you. His closeness, this moment, his arms that embraced you.

"So why aren't you doing it yet, Javi?"

You didn't have to repeat it a second time. In an instant, his lips were on yours, soft and tender. When you parted your lips, his warm tongue slipped inside. He tased like a wine and it was totally intoxicating.

You clung to him, deepening the kiss and losing your breath more and more.

His hand slid down to your hip, which he squeezed lightly, but didn't go any further. A sweet purr escaped his throat, and it made you laugh.

"What?" he asked as you pulled away and giggled, "I can't help it, mi amor. You're the one who does that to me."

"It doesn't matter. I like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, and I really like you, Javi. I guess that means I'm crazy."

"So let's be in this madness together. I want to meet you tomorrow and the day after, and the day after, and every day after that."

"You'll get bored with me."

"Naah! Don't say that, mi amor. I'm drunk on you and I want more, and more. Give me a chance, please."

Javi didn't have to ask you. You were already sure you'd agree to all of this. You were completely enchanted by him. Maybe it was madness, but you didn't want to stop, you didn't want to go back to normal.

He stared at you expectantly, but you didn't answer. You took his face in your hands and kissed him tenderly. That was your answer, and Javi was delighted with it.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[daechwitatamic]

Of Ruin: Chapter 14 | KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕 Also thank you to @casuallyimagining for looking over these fight scenes for me!

//

Section Warnings: language, angst, uhhh fighting and explicit violence, blood and injury, tense situations with dangerous vampires, uhhhhh multiple murders wc: 6.3k

“You are not supposed to be here.”

“I left,” you admit, sagging into one of the worn chairs and letting your head fall into your hands. It’s late now, nearing dinner time, and you know Dr. Kim would normally be leaving. “I can go home. I meant to go home. But I left there and started walking and… ended up here.”

He regards you for a long minute. Then, as if he’s made a decision, he sits across from you. You’ve been just like this many times - he behind his desk, you across from it, working out a curse or a class-schedule - but it feels different this time.

You’re so ashamed you can barely stomach it.

You’ve never run away from anything in your life, not like this.

You explain it all, you leave nothing out. The dangers you faced, the mistakes and missteps. The way you learned what you really are, and began learning how to do something with it. How you’d slowly worked the curse to a tipping point. How you’d slowly fallen in love with Prince Taehyung, how you’d thought he felt the same.

But Taehyung throwing around words like Queen… it feels like too much. It feels like something you shouldn’t have, don’t deserve, haven’t earned. It feels like a trick or a trap, and you ran scared like a little bunny.

You tell him all of it.

When you’re done, you watch his ancient face for signs of what he’s going to say, if he’s going to chastise you for letting a job get so out of control.

You take in his expression and your heart sinks.

“You’re going to tell me I have to go back, aren’t you?” you lament, shoulders slumping.

“No, my dear,” Dr. Kim says kindly. “I’m going to tell you to go home.”

“Home?” you echo. “What, you mean, like… go home and sleep on it?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Go home. To your family.”

—

Dr. Kim had never really understood the way things were with you and your family. You forgave him for it long ago - he clearly had a very different situation. You’ve learned that even more in the past few months spent with his grandson. But even though you know how pointless his advice is… you follow it anyway.

It’s a long train ride to your hometown, and you spend it pressed to the window, watching the backsides of buildings flash by until they give way to the greens and browns of the countryside.

You think about what you might say. You think about what your parents might say back.

You try to remember the last time you’d even spoken, before your assignment to Infracticus, and you can’t recall.

You spent last night alone in your apartment. It had felt all wrong, somehow - like it belonged to someone else. It occurred to you, as you’d walked through your living room, a hand trailing absently over the knickknacks and clutter, that you hadn’t missed any of these things while you’d been gone.

You’d slept fitfully, with the lights on, bolting upright every time you heard footsteps in the hall.

You walk from the train station; the season has turned in the time you’ve been gone, and the air is biting and cold, stinging your face and the inside of your nose. You slip your hands inside your sleeves, wishing you’d grabbed a heavier coat on your way out the door.

You stop a few houses down, leaning against an old, wooden fence. You watch your childhood home silently, rubbing absently at your chill-bitten nose.

You imagine going up and knocking on the door - because it’s been nearly a decade since the days you were comfortable just breezing in and out of their home. You imagine sitting down at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea between your frozen fingers, heating up by degrees. Imagine telling your parents, yes, I’ve been on assignment, actually. In Infracticus.

You imagine your father joking, I’m surprised you didn’t find a way to stay.

That’s exactly what you’d done, without even meaning to.

Is this visit supposed to be goodbye? Is it an attempt to ask for their blessing? How can you expect that - of any parent? How can you walk into their house, uninvited, and ask them to tell you goodbye?

Even if it isn’t forever - even if you can promise visits, regular communication - how can you expect anything like the permission you seek? It isn’t fair of you to even ask.

You stand in the cold and think to yourself that maybe you’re best off just leaving things how they are. Maybe keeping them from the truth is better for them.

Because this is what you’ve figured out, the knowledge you’re grappling with: regardless of Taehyung’s feelings for you… you’re going to ask him to turn you.

Even if he doesn’t love you, even if he doesn’t want you to rule with him, you’re going to walk away from your mortality.

The curse calls for the end of a life, and so your mortal life will end.

What happens after - with Taehyung - remains to be seen, it’s true. But you’d been wrestling with this question for days: would you be willing to give up your mortal life to save his immortal one?

Dr. Kim had heard the indecision threaded through your story, and had sent you here, knowing you needed clarity.

And it worked - everything is very clear as you stand alone on the street you grew up on, knowing there’s no place for you here.

You’d never built anything here. You hardly had anything to say goodbye to. No friends were blowing up your phone wondering where you’d been. Your parents didn’t even know you had gone in the first place. Even the university, your job, had simply slipped another professor into your place.

But Infracticus… Taehyung… those things fit.

You’d felt it in the way your magic slipped into the cracks of his, how they fused together easily, perfect counterparts.

You’d felt it in the way you could exist together quietly with the waves of the sea crashing just ahead of you.

You’d felt it in the way his hand wrapped around yours, the way he tried to stay a step ahead of you, moving obstacles out of your way.

You’d felt it in his heavy, hooded gaze, in his mouth against your skin, in his useless heartbeat against yours.

You fit next to him. Maybe - with time, with him - you could build something. In fact, you could build a lot of things. If his vision of the future really came to be, you could do a lot, could play a real part in creating something good, something lasting.

All you’d ever done here was daydream about a world you had no place in.

You’ll have a place there now - either leading at Taehyung’s side, or existing under his rule. Neither seems like a bad option.

It doesn’t feel real. But neither did any of it, at first. If things go how you plan, you’ll have plenty of time to adjust.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and check the train schedule, turning on your heel and heading back the way you came.

Unlike when you left Taehyung, you don’t look back. There’s no reason to.

—

You get back to the city in the early afternoon, and you go directly to the university. Dr. Kim looks up calmly when you enter his office, and simply says, “That was faster than I expected.”

You snort, the tension breaking, and he shuffles some papers as you take your usual chair.

“Well?” he asks, not looking up.

“I think you already know,” you say flatly, but he doesn’t hear you, because the sound of your voice is drowned by heavy footsteps and frantic knocking on the already-open door.

Dr. Kim’s eyes twinkle when he spots whoever is behind you, and you whirl in your chair, jaw dropping.

It’s, of course, Prince Taehyung, but he’s flanked by Satuel and Namjoon. All three of them are in jeans, and the sight of the prince dressed like one of the students here would make you laugh out loud if you weren’t so shocked by their presence.

He steps through the doorway, frowning deeply, eyes on you, and says, darkly, “I didn’t fake anything.”

As if this sentence has been itching to burst from him since you laid the accusation at his feet two nights ago, as if he couldn’t take his next breath until he refuted the very idea.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, standing.

“Come in, come in,” Dr. Kim says urgently, “and close that door before someone sees you.”

Maybe someone closes the door. Maybe they leave it open. Maybe a tornado rips through the room and carries everyone else away. You don’t know, because all you can see is Taehyung’s dark eyes, shining with emotion as he chokes out, “How could you just leave?”

“I had some things I needed to figure out,” you murmur.

He steps closer to you, filling the space, and reaches for your hands. “I never faked a thing,” he repeats, like this is the line he rehearsed. “I tried to explain, but you left so fast. My father may have told me he wanted me to pursue you, but all of it was real. I didn’t care about your magic or what you could bring to the family - I just wanted you.”

And, well, you’ve known that all along. But it’s nice to hear him say it.

Your eyes find the floor, head full of all the other things you two need to talk about. “Okay,” you say quietly.

“Okay?” he parrots, an edge to it. “Okay what? Okay, you’ll come back?”

You look up, but not at Taehyung. You look at Namjoon, and then over your shoulder at Dr. Kim. “I have to go back,” you say. “I figured out what we have to do to break the curse for real.”

—

You hate the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you in the crowded room, but now that everyone is settled in and ready to listen, you have no choice but to speak.

“Namjoon is the death magic expert,” you say, shooting him a little sideways glance. “So, chime in if something seems off. But I was looking at what we have… and reading similar cases… and I think we tried to get around the life for a life counter too quickly.”

“No,” Taehyung says immediately. “We’re not ending a life -”

You hold up a hand, silencing him. “It’s not your decision to make,” you say evenly.

His face contorts. “What are you talking about? Of course it is.”

You shake your head. “It’s mine. We’ll end my life - my mortal life.”

You have to clarify it twice to be heard over the outroar. Taehyung damn near stomps his foot with his cry of protest, and Dr. Kim has risen to his feet. Even Satuel looks struck, her eyes uncharacteristically wide.

“You mean,” Namjoon says slowly, the first one to piece together what you’re saying, “you’ll turn?”

You watch his face carefully for any hints at what he’s thinking, how he feels about this news. “It would work, right?” you ask, even though you’re about ninety-two percent sure on your own. “It’ll count as a life ending? Technically?”

He shoots a nervous look at Prince Taehyung, and then at his grandfather, like he’s not sure which one of them will be more infuriated by his answer. “I… I think it should, yes.”

To your right, Taehyung says your name, voice strangled. “That’s the plan?” he asks, as if begging for someone to tell him he’s got it wrong. “I have to turn you during the counter-curse to satisfy the end of life thread?”

You hold his gaze, your stomach knotting, your throat tightening until you can barely breathe. “Will you?” you ask, the words paper-thin.

He shakes his head, but it doesn’t seem like he’s saying no. “And then what?” he demands. “Have you thought about what this would mean?”

“Extensively,” you say flatly.

He looks around the room for help, his expression stricken. None comes.

“You can’t,” he says, imploring. “There are so many things that could go wrong - what if there’s some kind of attack, and I die? What if my father refuses to pass over the crown, and throws us in jail for trying? What if it does go as I’ve planned, but I go to trial and I’m found guilty for what happened the first night of the curse?”

You hear exactly what he’s really asking - What if you give up your entire life here and it turns out to be for nothing?

You frown. “Taehyung, you can’t live your life based on the worst-case scenario. Maybe none of those things will happen. But even if they do… don’t think that my turning has a… a price that you have to fulfill. I’m not turning just so I can be with you.”

His face goes blank. Before you can process what you’ve done wrong, Namjoon beans you in the forehead with an eraser off his grandfather’s desk.

“Say that better,” he instructs.

“Ow!” you protest, but the distraction helps you catch up to the moment. You meet Taehyung’s eyes even as you bend down to pick the eraser up off the floor. “What I mean is,” you say emphatically, “it doesn’t have to be any kind of commitment. I’ll turn because I want to, and because it will save you, and then… we’ll have time - all the time in the world - to see what comes next. Right?”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches and unclenches as he thinks. He looks around again. “Someone else weigh in here,” he begs, finally. “I can’t agree to this, can I? It’s too much.”

“Maybe we should let you talk alone?” Namjoon suggests, and you look at him, full of gratitude. But, of course, he’s been there all alone, has seen what was happening between you and Taehyung long before you were willing to admit it yourself.

“I’ll take you to the staff room for coffee,” Dr. Kim tells his grandson. “You can catch me up on the situation. But Prince Taehyung’s guard really ought to stay close to him.”

Satuel nods smartly. “I can stand in the hall,” she says, and you fight back a smile, knowing she’s choosing to give you a little privacy.

When they’re gone, Taehyung sags, letting himself sink into the misery of the situation.

“This is not a sacrifice I can allow you to make,” he tells you, eyes round, mouth pulling down unhappily at each corner.

You lean back against Dr. Kim’s desk, considering your words. “It’s not so much of a sacrifice,” you try to explain. “You’d be giving me something, not taking anything away.”

He watches you carefully as he says, “But you couldn’t come back. I mean - for a long time, as you adjust. And then, after, only at certain times, with permission… you’d give up this whole world?”

“Those permitted visits over an immortal life will probably add up to be more time here than I would have had normally,” you point out. “Just not all at once. And maybe, when I come visit… you could come with me?”

He doesn’t speak, just holds your gaze and nods tightly.

You shrug, toying at your bottom lip. “Then that’s already better than what I have now.”

He crosses to you, then, taking you in his arms, and you let him. You allow yourself just one second to be scared and unsure, and then you lean back to look up at him. “I want to do this,” you promise. “No matter what happens after. Even if you decide I’m boring and you fall in love with someone else and -”

He scowls. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” you tease, smiling a little. “Even if the worst happens - whatever version of the worst you want - I still choose this.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can do it,” he admits. “I don’t know if I can hurt you like that.”

“I’ll be okay,” you promise, though this is the part that’s scary - the turning process. “I’ll be okay, because I know you’ll be there. I know you’ll take care of me.”

“Yes,” he pouts, “but who will take care of me while I’m panicking over you?”

“Namjoon,” you say sagely, pleased when a laugh rips through him, rumbling in his chest.

He sighs. “We’ll be okay?” he asks.

You don’t think he means individually. But you include it in your answer when you squeeze your arms around and say, confidently, “We will. I know we will.”

He leans down to kiss you, softly at first, his lips light against yours. Then, more firmly. You melt against him, happy to be held, happy to be loved, happy to see a solution shimmering in the distance.

“You know,” he says softly, when he pulls away, “I don’t want to add any weight to this… we can see what happens after, like you said. But… I consider you my intended. That’s just… that’s how I feel.”

A shiver runs through you, thrilling and terrifying both at once. “There’s time for that after,” you say, accidentally repeating what Namjoon had told you once. “I promise.”

—

Taehyung and Satuel leave first, though she practically has to drag him.

“Promise you’re following us,” he demands on his way out.

You laugh. “As soon as we nail down this countercurse, we’ll head straight to the Ostium.”

“Don’t even stop for food,” he warns, but you know it’s a joke. Or, partly a joke.

“Not even fries?”

He considers this, then turns to Satuel. “Actually, can we stop for fries?”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on. You need to be back before midnight.”

This sobers everyone.

“Perhaps for the last time,” you say hopefully.

“Don’t say that if you aren’t sure,” Taehyung says darkly, and then kisses you goodbye, right in front of everyone, like he doesn’t even care.

“I love you,” he says, low, and you feel it down to your toes. “Don’t do anything foolish until you’re back with me.”

“Roger that,” you try to smile.

Satuel and Taehyung disappear down the hallway, so lightning quick that you can’t even watch them walk away.

Dr. Kim goes to start a pot of coffee.

Namjoon gives you a wry, knowing smile, and begins to organize paper and pens.

The three of you work all night, and it’s after four in the morning when you finally sit back, set down your pen, and declare it ready.

—

It’s still before sunrise when you pass through the Ostium, pausing to bandage up your hands after crossing - you were prepared, this time.

It’s clear right away that something is very wrong; not only is Satuel not there to pick you up, as agreed upon before she left, but the Ostium isn’t even manned. The whole building is empty, your footsteps echoing as you cross to the door leading out into Infracticus.

Your heart racing, you turn to look at Namjoon. It’s clear he’s thinking the same thing.

“What the -?” you start, as you step out of the Ostium into the pre-dawn purple. A coach is parked there, a team of amarisca hitched and ready to go.

Beside you, Namjoon shouts, already starting to run. Too late, you see the prone body on the ground, on the other side of the carriage.

“Satuel,” you manage, covering your mouth in horror, as you round the corner and spot her. Namjoon crouches, holding her up. Thick, viscous sangru - what Infracti have instead of blood pumping through their bodies - pools around her, as black as her eyes. It looks like an oil spill around her. You spy a gash on her neck, but there must be more.

“The palace,” she gasps, her wild eyes finding yours. “The prince.”

“Go,” Namjoon instructs. “I’ll stay here, I’ll help her -”

You don’t wait for the rest. You tear around the side of the carriage and start fumbling with the clasps of the first amarisca until it’s free from the rest of the team.

You turn back to where Namjoon is still cradling Satuel’s unmoving body. “The prince has a private stable at the beach,” you call to him frantically. “Get her there - I’ll send help as soon as I can.”

Namjoon nods in understanding, his face drawn and desperate, and you dig your hands deep in the amarisca’s mane and throw a leg over, urging it to move, clinging tightly as it begins its rocking gait over the road leading to the palace doors.

The palace looms in the distance, and you urge the amarisca to go faster, squeezing your calves and whispering pleas, though the latter does nothing for you. It seems like it’s not even getting closer, though the trees stream by you on either side.

Please let him be okay, you think as you frantically ride. It’s almost dawn - he would just be coming out of the curse, any second now. If the palace is under attack, would it be a hindrance or a help for him to be only beast?

Finally, the palace seems to grow in size, looming over you as the road curves around an approach.

You’re knocked from the amarisca’s back so quickly that you don’t have time to register what happened, hitting the ground with an unattractive grunt as all the breath is knocked from your lungs.

“Fuck!” you scream, as soon as you can inhale, pounding a fist against the dirt, because you failed, didn’t even make it to the palace, and now you’re going to die at the hands of some random Infracti, at the side of the road -

“Shut up,” the Infracti hisses, tugging at your arm, and you go limp because you think you might recognize his voice.

“S-Seokjin?” you whimper, turning to see if you’re right. You are, but he doesn’t answer you as he pulls you swiftly away from the road. Now you’re less sure you’re about to die, but it’s unclear.

“Listen,” he says, quietly, tugging you behind some brush and crouching. You follow his lead, eyes wide. “We’ve got about thirty of us infiltrating the castle. Probably a few teams are already in. They’re going after the royal family - that’s their only goal.”

“You’re - what?” you stammer.

“Focus,” he snaps. “I’ll help how I can, but I’m not going to out myself, and neither will Jungkook. Get in there, find Taehyung, and get him out. I don’t care where you go with him - just out of the palace. Don’t worry about the King and Queen, protect Taehyung. Can you do that, witch?”

You nod, unable to speak, mind already flying through your memories of the palace corridors, trying to think of the fastest way to the rooms where Taehyung spends his cursed nights.

“Go,” he urges you, releasing your arm. “I’ll cover your back as best I can until you’re inside.”

“Thanks,” you let out hollowly, taking a steadying breath. And then you run.

—

The first set of doors you come across is locked from inside, but you press your hands to the metal mechanism and call for all the magic you can reach until you hear gears turning, and - finally - a telling click.

You let yourself inside and quickly scan the corridor. It’s deserted - which is honestly a bad sign. The guards are somewhere else, which means there’s already trouble somewhere else.

You jog, making sure to peer around every corner, knowing that if any of the Score soldiers hear your heartbeat or smell your blood it’ll be over before you can even fight it. But there’s not much you can do, and you’ll be safer once you find Taehyung, so you hurry on until you reach the wing where he spends his nights.

You hear voices before you see them, but you round a corner to find a crowd of guards - Taehyung’s guards. He’s standing at the far side of the group, dictating orders. Over their heads, he spots you, does a double take. You watch him close his eyes for the barest second, relief clear on his face, and then he’s waving you over even as he continues speaking to the Infracti closest to him.

“Change of plans,” he’s saying as you approach, breathless. “The ten of you, join that group, get my parents to the safe room.”

“But, Maiesti, that leaves you without -”

“I don’t need you,” he says, sure, looking at you. “Not now that she’s here. My parents are sitting ducks. My venefici can fight with me.”

A few Infracti call out orders, and they separate into three groups, filtering out of the hallway in waves, leaving you and the prince quite alone.

“Did you just send away all of your guards?” you ask, horrified.

“My parents need them more,” he says, tone steely. “I’m not going to run - I’m going to take out as many of them as I can. Will you stay and fight with me? ”

“Taehyung,” you say frantically, trying to break through his resolve and get him to hear you. “They got Satuel - I had Namjoon take her to Potato’s stable, but it looked really bad.”

He stands there, frozen, caught between fighting for his family or saving his trusted guard. You know what choice you’d make, but you wait silently, anxiously shifting from foot to foot, and let him get there by himself.

“Alright,” he says finally, clearly displeased. “Fastest way to the stables is through here.”

—

Taehyung gets what he wants anyway. You hardly get anywhere before stumbling across a pack of the Scores.

They’re ready for you - five of them, all crouched defensively - likely heard your traitorous human heartbeat. But they don’t know who you are; they don’t know what you can do.

You send a blast towards their feet, which knocks three of them onto their backs. Beside you, Taehyung moves like liquid, in a way you’ve never seen before, a dark blur vanishing from your side and reappearing down the corridor, locked hand-in-hand with one of them, snarling viciously as they clash.

You can’t just stand and watch; the second Infracti you’d left standing is zipping towards you, a flash of motion, and you throw a wall up around yourself. He hits it with a sickening crunch before falling to the ground. Down the corridor, Taehyung seems to have finished off the one he was wrestling with, and is now rolling over a second man, fangs bared and black with sangru, growls and snarls rippling out of both of them.

You can’t watch, can’t keep an eye on him, because the two remaining Scores are up and they are pissed. You don’t have a single second to think, you can only react. You throw a hand towards the ceiling, shouting the spell you’ve favored since the beginning, and a large chunk of stone falls with a boom that rattles your bones, nearly knocking you off your feet. Dust flies into the air, and you shield your eyes, coughing a little.

You take stock of the situation as soon as you can see again. You only got one of them with the chunk of ceiling, and you can hear Taehyung still fighting on the other side of the unsettled dust. Which means there’s still one -

He’s on you. You don’t even know which direction he came from, but you’re on the ground and he’s snarling over top of you, fingers digging into your upper arms, black eyes narrowed in effort, fangs bared.

You kick and buck, trying to get free enough that you can use your hands and try to throw a spell, but nothing works.

“Taehyung!” you scream, and then the weight is off of you - as if the Infracti was never there. You sit up, frantically, and then you find him - rolling in battle just feet away, snarling and snapping at a sandy-haired body that growls loudly back.

Jimin.

You run for Taehyung, but he meets you halfway, hands reaching for yours desperately. There’s a smear of sangru down his face, but he seems okay.

“Jimin,” you pant, pointing behind you, and Taehyung vanishes into a flash of color again, rushing to help his friend.

By the time you reach them, it’s over. The Infracti that had pinned you lies still on the ground, his head at an angle that makes your stomach lurch.

“You have to get out,” Jimin blurts. “They’re here for you, they only want you.”

“We’re going,” you say, trying to give Taehyung a tug. He doesn’t budge. A growl rumbles from his chest, but it’s subdued. He’s not fighting, just frustrated.

“I know you want to fight,” you say, still tugging, “but Satuel -”

“Shhh,” Jimin says suddenly, holding up a hand.

You freeze, listening.

They’re already here.

They come in that formless blur of color, surrounding the three of you and stilling, their bodies filtering back into view.

Everyone is moving at once. It’s impossible to keep track of anyone, friend or foe. All you can do is try not to become anyone’s prey.

You choose a direction and slam a burst of magic at them. It knocks two of them back, but there are more coming for you.

Your fear gets the better of you; you forego defensive walls and arc your hand over your head, shouting a spell that’s meant to cut, one of the few offensive moves you’d practiced what feels like ages ago.

Time slows as you watch black sungru spurts from an Infracti’s chest, her eyes rolling back as she staggers to her knees before dropping.

Another Infracti flies towards you, lightning fast, face contorted, fangs ready. Somebody tugs you out of the way, and you stumble after them, getting it together enough to throw up a wall between you and the attack.

You glance backwards enough to see that it’s Jungkook who saved you, but you can’t dwell on it. Just ahead of you, Jimin’s raking his teeth across someone’s neck, sangru bubbling down their throat in the wake of his fangs. He drops the body unceremoniously and launches himself at another.

You look around frantically, trying to find Taehyung. You don’t find him before you’re grabbed from behind. You scream, feeling fingertips digging painfully into your upper arms. You throw your head back as hard as you can and hear the crunch as you make contact.

You spin around wildly, throwing a blast that sends your assailant flying across the corridor. He crumples to the ground, and you turn away, going back to your search for Taehyung.

You spot him just as one of the Scores leaps onto his back, the same way they’d done to you moments ago. Taehyung twists in the other man’s grasp and gives a brutal kick; the Score staggers away and Taehyung launches himself at his attacker, knocking them both to the ground. When Taehyung bares his fangs and lowers his head, you look away. But you still hear the scream cut short into a feeble gurgle.

To your left, Jimin is grappling with one of them, their hands locked. You throw a protective wall around yourself and inch closer, trying to determine if you can help without hurting Jimin, too.

Jimin spots you, his eyes widening.

“Back up!” you yell, trying to make your way closer.

His face goes taut and he gives you a nod, understanding what you mean to do. He gives the Infracti he’s fighting a mighty shove, successfully putting a few feet between them.

You attack instantly, before the gap can be filled, sending a blast so strong that it knocks Jimin backwards, too. He lands gracefully, having only been grazed, and gets up quickly, looking between you and the Score you’d just flattened against the stone wall.

“Nice shot,” he breathes.

“Help Taehyung,” you answer, panting.

You both take off down the hall to where you’d last seen the prince. He and Jungkook stand alone, two more bodies motionless on the ground between them. They’re both breathing hard.

“We have to go,” Taehyung manages, as soon as he spots you.

Jimin steps towards Jungkook and for a second you panic, thinking he doesn’t know that Jungkook is on your side, but instead of fighting they seem to hug - clasping the back of each other’s necks and pressing their foreheads together for one breathless second before breaking apart again.

“Stay safe,” Jungkook says. It comes out like a warning.

“You, too,” Taehyung says, and steps past you, grabbing for your hand as he goes. “We’re almost out - let’s move.”

—

Day is breaking in full when you finally breach the palace’s walls.

“Hurry,” you say needlessly, rushing to the stone stairs that lead down to Taehyung’s private stable. You hope Namjoon made it there, you hope Satuel is still hanging on.

You’re shaking so bad that you miss a step, adrenaline wreaking havoc on your systems. You catch yourself on the banister and continue on, Taehyung and Jimin right behind you.

There are no guards at the stable, and you burst through the door in a rush. Namjoon jumps to his feet, a rake in his hands like a weapon.

“It’s us, it’s us,” you blurt out, trying to look past him. “Is she - are we in time?”

“I really don’t know,” Namjoon admits, lowering the rake and letting you all inside. Jimin closes the door carefully, locking it from the inside.

You make your way into the empty space beside Potato’s stall, where Satuel’s body lies. She’s unmoving; it doesn’t seem like she knows you’re there.

“Okay, Healer,” you say, looking at Taehyung.

He kneels by his guard’s side, examining the places where she was ripped open. He shakes his head. “This requires more than I’m capable of.”

You step closer, kneeling beside him. “What if I help?” you suggest.

He looks at you, something unreadable flashing across his face. “You think you could?”

You nod. “If we merge magical signatures, the way we did for the ritual? You should be able to pull from my power - borrowing from me. I’ll be like… a battery?”

He smiles despite the desperate situation.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s try - we’ve no time to spare.”

You settle onto your bottom on the dirty, wooden floor. Taehyung takes your hand, and you close your eyes and focus on your breathing, inhaling and exhaling as slowly as you can with fear still running rampant through your system.

After a few minutes - admittedly longer than normal - you feel your magic rise up inside you, warm and soothing and ready. You feel the familiar sensation of it reaching for Taehyung’s magic, little tentative tendrils poking around until they find the empty spaces between his.

The feeling when the two magical signatures meet and accept each other is euphoric, and you fight not to lose yourself in it, to stay focused.

Beside you, Taehyung starts running his hands over the visible gashes, the places where it seems like chunks are missing. The skin stitches itself back together easily under his touch, but you can tell it isn’t enough. Satuel doesn’t stir, her unfocused eyes staring blankly at the ceiling above you.

You can feel it, the exact moment when what he’s trying to do becomes too much for Taehyung’s magic. It pulls on yours sharply, an alarming sensation behind your ribcage.

You inhale. You exhale. You don’t fight it. You let him tug magic from you, you tell your systems that you trust him with all of it.

Taehyung doesn’t give up, keeping his hands above Satuel’s undead heart, letting your magics both flow into her, fixing what’s been broken, restarting what’s shut itself down.

She blinks - that’s the first sign. Her eyes blink once and then focus on Taehyung, and then slide shut. They stay shut, which alarms you, but then you see her fingers twitch.

“Your Majesty,” she breathes, eyes still closed. You sag with relief, and you feel your magical connection to Taehyung untangle, your magic curling back up inside you, tendrils coiling back up and retreating.

Taehyung closes his own eyes, but he doesn’t release your hand. Behind you, you hear Namjoon press closer.

“Rest,” Taehyung says. “All of you. We should be safe here. Rest.”

You settle in on the floor, backs against the wooden walls of the stable, eyes on the door. You listen to the ocean pound the shore outside, listen for the cries of gulls to warn of danger. Namjoon sits to your right, his tight gaze on the door. Prince Taehyung crouches to your left, ready to spring to his feet.

It’s over an hour before Taehyung’s guards find you, inform him that the palace is clear.

“My parents?” Taehyung asks, standing and brushing hay and dirt from his pants.

“The King and Queen are perfectly alright,” the guard tells him with a quick bow.

Taehyung straightens beside you, and you recognize him in royal mode, even before his voice comes out cold and controlled. “Very well. I need Satuel to be taken to the Elders for proper healing. And tomorrow morning I’ll be having an audience with my father and the curse-breakers. Please inform him.”

The guard bows again and backs out of the doorway, probably to go get backup to help move Satuel’s weakened body. You look at Taehyung quizzically, but you don’t feel afraid, not with his hand still in yours.

He meets your gaze evenly. “A year ago,” he says, still cold, which means he’s scared, “my father made me some promises, and broke them. Tomorrow, he’s going to make me a few more - and you’re going to help me make sure he can’t break them again.”

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!!!!! I can't believe there's only two more after this!!!! It's all coming to a close!!

thank you so much for reading!!! chapter 15 will go up next week as planned!

[ahgasegotarmy116]

He Doesn't Deserve You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter Two

Summary: You decide to finally do something for yourself and ease your mind Pairing: Noona reader x Jeon Jungkook (She's 28 and he's 22) Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Not too much for this chapter in particular besides mentions of domestic violence BUT yändere, manipulation, self harm, cheating, explicit language, smut, angst throughout the rest of the story a/n: Since you guys seem to be really liking this story I worked hard to get chapter two out quickly! Let me know what you think! p.s. Fuck me y'all I literally deleted chapter 2 but luckily I write on wattpad and I was able to restore it. I was literally about to cry Requested by the lovely: @kkusadmirer 💜

We had another fight. 

Honestly I don't even remember what it was about, something stupid like I left the door open after I came in with the groceries and forgot to lock it. Or maybe it was the fact that I actually left the house and got them instead of just ordering them to get dropped off on the doorstep. 

He always tells me it's too dangerous out there or that I should just wait for him to go with me instead. If I did that though we would never have any food here and I'm not about to order takeout for every meal. 

I don't understand why leaving the door open would be such an issue. We live in a relatively nice complex and our neighbors always make sure to look out for me so I don't understand why something as simple as that could set him off. 

But then again it doesn't take much to set him off these days, I guess it was something I should've expected. 

He hasn't been home for two days and at this point I've decided that maybe it's time I went out for the night. Nothing crazy or anything but just, out. 

Putting on yet another turtleneck I make sure that the old and new marks are covered. I've taken it a step further and put some makeup on to make sure that no one will notice. Although I doubt anyone would notice me anyways since I usually fade into the background. 

But tonight isn't about feeling insecure in myself. Tonight is the night where I finally do something on my own and get out of the house. 

Taking out my phone I look up the address for the local pub I've decided to go to, making sure to wear comfortable boots since it's a little ways away. I'm luck that it's winter right now so bundling up is normal, making my outfit even less suspicious. 

Taking a couple of deep breaths I reach for the handle, unlock the door and step outside. 

'Should I really be doing this?' I question but before I'm able to second guess myself I hear our next door neighbor unlock her door as well and step outside her door.

"Oh, y/n. What a pleasant surprise! It's been a while since I've seen your pretty face" she says scanning my features, clearly having heard the fight we had had the other day and making sure that I look okay. 

"Hi Mrs. Mitchell. How have you and Mr. Mitchell been?" I ask, returning her warm greeting but feeling awkward talking to someone that isn't Taehyung or my editor. 

"As well as we could be I suppose. Harry just turned 73 last month so he's been complaining about how old he his and how his knees don't work the way they used to. What can you expect when you get to our age?" she says, chuckling at her husband who is a few years younger than her.

"Seems like no matter how old men get, they still whine and complain whenever they get sick or injured" she continues, clearly trying to lighten my spirits. "I guess so" I say, not daring to bad mouth Taehyung since he's probably already gotten a pretty bad reputation around here with everything we've been through over the past few years. 

Sometimes I'm surprised by the fact that we haven't gotten evicted with all of the noise complaints we've gotten. 

He always makes me answer each and every call from our building even though he's the one responsible for a majority of the noise but he always makes sure to stand close by to make sure I don't ask them to send help no matter how severe things have gotten. 

"Where are you off to?" she asks taking note of the fact that it's getting late in the evening. "I figured I might just head over to the pub a few streets down and see if I can clear my head for a while" I say, not bothering to give more information than necessary. Not that there would be any more information to give. 

"Good for you dear! It's always good to go out and get a new perspective on life. Let me know anytime if you need any help alright? Oh and I'm so excited to read your next book!" she says and with that last part catching me off guard. "You've read my books?" I question, taken aback and almost embarrassed at the fact that a woman of her age would be reading the type of genre I write, let alone my own. 

"Of course dear! As soon as I found out that you were a writer I went straight to the bookstore and bought all of them! You really are very talented" she finishes, with a glimmer of admiration in her eye. 

"Thank you so much, your support means the world to me, truly" I finish and she quickly shoo me off, apologizing for holding me hostage. 

"Next time I see you I'll sign your copies if you'd like" I offer and the look on her face is absolutely priceless. 

"I'll make sure to have them sitting by the front door with a pen in hand!" she beams and I wave one last goodbye before I make my way to my destination. 

~~~~

Walking in the doors of The Blue Pearl I'm greeted by the sound of soft rock being played in the background and a low murmur of the small amount of people spread through out. This pub seems to be a little old fashioned so I guess it's not a big draw for the younger rowdier crowds. Which was exactly what I was looking for. 

Just a slow night to clear my head and a strong drink to drown my sorrows. Knowing me though I'll probably stop after one or two drinks. 

I decide to sit at the bar on the stool closest to the wall and wave the bartender over. 

"Surprise me, something sweet but something strong" I say trying to sound as confident as I can. "You got it" she says and comes back soon with a pink drink of some sort a few moments later. "What is this?" I ask after taking a sip, already dying for another one at the fruity but subtly sweet drink. 

"I like to call it The Slut Puppy" she says with a proud smile. I tilt my head when I look at her, confused as to how she came up with the name. "I'm still workshopping it to be honest but your reaction to the name definitely played true to the puppy part. I laugh realizing that I subconsciously played into her game and she laughs right along with me. 

"Long night?" she asks after I've settled in, using her bartender powers to see right through my act while walking away a bit to clean up the shaker she had used to make my drink. 

"Try long life" I say, rolling my eyes before taking a sip of my drink again, sighing in contentment. "That bad huh?" she laughs bitterly, knowing one way or another that what I'm dealing with is beyond fucked. "Let's just say the best part of my week so far has been this drink" I and steal a quick glance at her, embarrassed that my words are flowing so easily to a complete stranger. 

"But it's Saturday night" she say with her brows pinched together. "Exactly" I say and before I can even ask she decides to grab another shaker and makes me another drink which I accept with a somber smile. "I put some extra ice in this one so don't worry it's not gonna go straight to your head" she says, looking out for me as if she were someone I had known for my whole life. 

"I'm y/n by the way" I say, hoping to move from strangers to acquaintances at the very least. "Rae" she answers before tending to another patron. 

"So y/n" she starts as she makes her way back over to me "what do you do?" she asks, maintaining conversation but not trying to pry when it comes to what I'm clearly upset about. 

"I'm a writer" I answer and her interest is immediately peaked. "A writer? Really? What do you write about?" she asks, leaning up against the counter so she can hear me a bit better. 

"To be honest my stories are pretty fucked up romance novels" I say scratching the top of my head feeling a bit awkward at the confession. 

"Sounds like my type of book" she laughs. I let out a breath, thankful that I won't have to explain myself to her since this genre isn't everyone's cup of tea. "So what are some books that you've written? Maybe I've read one before" she says going back to cleaning up a few things, making sure to use her time wisely. 

"Well 'Trials of the Broken' is one of them. It's my best seller at the moment. I'm actually working on writing the sequel right now" I respond, embarrassed but proud of my achievements all the same. 

"I think I've heard of that one! My friends have been trying to get me to read it but I never got around to it" she says, surprised at her chances of meeting me. 

"If you ever get around to it then let me know what you think" I say, now kicking myself for putting on the pressure for her to read it. "I definitely will" she says and makes her way over to the other side of the bar to serve some more patrons that just made their way inside. 

Glancing over at them I notice one that is a few steps behind the crowd, making me question if he's come here alone but I go back to looking at my drink, trying my best not to stare. 

My eyes somehow manage to drag themselves over toward him as he places his order and waits for Rae to make it. 

He takes off his hood and I'm met with first, the sight of his sharp jaw, then his shaggy hair he ruffled as soon as the hood dropped and finally his lips, the bottom one pierced twice rested in a soft smile. I realize though that the only way I would be seeing his full on smile would be if he was looking back at me and I make somewhat panicked eye contact with him before quickly turning my head in the other direction. 

'Great job y/n, drooling over the first hot guy you see. He's probably going to think I'm some sort of creep now' my thoughts thought are interrupted with the sound of what I believe to be is a drink set down on the counter a few seats away from me. 

"Is it alright if I sit here?" a smooth baritone voice says, making butterflies fill my stomach. 

"Um yeah sure" I say, taking a sip of my drink before glancing at him, quickly looking away again before I start to stare again. 

"So how's your night going?" he asks, clearly in an effort to make small talk. 

"It's going. How about yours?" I question back and see that he's no longer looking at me, instead watching as he swirls his mystery drink around in his cup. "About the same" he chuckles, clearly amused with both of our lack of effort to divulge any details. 

We sit there for a second or two in silence before Rae walks over and gives me another drink. I watched her make it and I can tell she she went even easier on the alcohol this time and makes sure to question nonverbally if I'm alright to which I nod. 

"What are you drinking?" he asks, smiling at the visual of the bright pink drink with two cherries placed on top. "You're gonna laugh" I say, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear, feeling a little apprehensive saying words like this to a complete stranger (a hot one at that).

"It's-" "It's called a Slut Puppy" Rae interrupts from the other side of the bar, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was clearly listening. "Um yeah, that" I chuckle, taking a big sip of it to hopefully calm my nerves. 

"A slut puppy?" he asks, flashing an amused smile at me, sending my heart beat into overload. "Her name, not mine" I laugh awkwardly. Trying, but failing at sounding normal but from the looks of it he doesn't seem to mind. "Right" he says dragging out the first syllable before taking a sip of his drink. 

"Do you guys know each other?" he asks, curious as to who our not so secret eavesdropper is. "Kinda. We just met. Although it almost seems like I've known her my whole life" I say smiling at her, thankful for the fact that she was able to lift my spirits so easily. 

"It's nice when you meet people like that" he says and when I bring my attention back over to him I can tell that he's been looking at me for a while, making me shy all over again. 

"Oh, I'm Jungkook by the way" he says holding out his hand, and I turn my stool towards him and shake it, fixing what would've been an awkward angle if I had stayed in place. He after seeing what I had done decides to turn as well, angling his body towards me and I notice now that there's only one seat between us. A respectful distance, making me feel a bit more comfortable talking to him. 

"I'm y/n" I say and he gives me a soft smile, whispering my name under his breath, almost as if he were trying to keep it as a secret all for himself. "So y/n, what's your story?" he asks, withdrawing his hand at almost the same time I do and goes back to taking another sip of his drink, making sure to keep his sparkly eyes trained on me. 

'Sparkly? Y/n you are a married woman. You shouldn't even be talking to this guy'.

"My story? Well to be honest there's not much to tell. I grew up and went to school in the city and now I'm a writer. There's not much else to my life if I'm being honest" I say, doing my best to maintain conversation but also not give away too much. 

"That ring on your finger says otherwise" he says, nodding towards it and playing around with his straw. Not in an abrasive way but more as if to remind me of something else that I might've forgotten.

"Oh, um yeah" I say, showing him the ring up for a second to confirm his suspicions but pull my sweater down to cover it up a second later, hoping he won't ask anything else about that aspect but unfortunately luck is not on my side in that department tonight. 

"Is that why you're here? Needed to get away for a while?" he asks, curious but not insinuating anything that I would expect a guy of his age would be asking me. "I guess you could say that" I say taking a deep breath deciding that if he's asking I might as well get the male perspective while I can. 

"With being a writer and everything I'm pretty much cooped up in the house all day. Which for me is fine and it's been like that for a few years" I say, taking a second to try and figure out how to formulate my next words carefully, not wanting his to worry or judge the situation too much.

"I'm sensing there's a 'but' here" he chuckles and takes another sip of his drink and waves at Rae in an effort to get both of us both another drink without me noticing to avoid protest. "But" I start out, confirming his suspicions. "with my husband being used to me doing that all the time he tends to get a bit, how should I say this..." I trial off, still not sure how to phrase it. 

"Controlling?" he offers, a bit more blunt than his other responses. "Worried" I counter, although his word is more accurate than mine. He nods a bit, clearly not believing my words but doesn't press in hopes that I will continue. "He's worried that something might happen to me if I go out alone. That someone might recognize me because of my books and try to do something like kidnap me" I say, fully confident in my words.

I hear Jungkook snort beside me a second later, leaving me looking over at him with my brows scrunched up. "What's so funny?" I ask, confused and almost annoyed by his reaction. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry continue" he says doing his best to calm down. "No, what about that is so funny?" I press as I can clearly see that he's still trying to hold his laughter in. 

"I'm sorry y/n it's just, well isn't kidnapping a little bit of a stretch?" he says, clearing his throat and breathing through what he thought was a ridiculous excuse. "Woman and children get kidnapped everyday! Look up the statistics!" I retort, trying to convince him that there's truth to Taehyung's argument. 

"Yes, I know that it happens a lot, but you can't let that keep you from going outside and living life. It's a horrible thing and I don't understand why anyone would do such a thing but you can't use it as a way to cripple yourself from ever leaving your house" he says, this time being completely serious and trying his best to convince me that I shouldn't be living like this. 

"I'm out now aren't I?" I argue, and to that he nods his head but presses further. "How long has it been since you've been out like this though?" he asks and I just let my head droop a bit in response before taking a sip of my new drink. 

"Well I'm proud of you for coming out tonight and doing this for yourself. And look, you're completely safe. Plus seems like you've already made two new friends tonight" he laughs motioning to himself and Rae and when I look over at her all I can see is her bright smile, happy to see me getting more comfortable. 

"Who knows though, you might just be acting nice to me just so I'll let my guard down so you can kidnap me" I tease and at that he acts like he's offended, throwing his hand over his heart as if I had shot him. 

"You hurt me with your words. It's a shame though, I was just in the market for a new best friend" he says, wiping away a fake tear. "Or in the market for some fresh meat" I continue laughing at his act. "Twist the knife why don't you" he says, now resorting to pouting. 

"Aw, it's okay I didn't mean it" I say patting his shoulder in an effort to apologize. "You better not" he says looking at me, still pouting. "Come on, let's turn that frown upside down. Why don't I buy you a drink?" I ask as a way to make amends. 

"No that's alright, I've actually gotta get going" he says, pulling out his wallet and placing some cash on the counter to more than cover his drinks. "Let me get you some change" Rae steps in, quick to help since she is otherwise unoccupied. "No it's okay, use it to cover us both and then keep the change" he says as he straightens out his jacket a bit. 

"No you don't have to do that" I argue and go to take some cash out of my purse as well. "It's okay I got it. But if you want to make it up to me I'll always take your number as payment" he says with a cheeky smile. 

"Just as friends of course! I would never want to seduce a married woman" he says, jumping over himself, making me sure I know his intensions are pure. 

"Can we do email? I spend most of my time on my computer so it's easier for me" I say, making excuses as to not giving it to him. "As long as you promise not to mark my messages as spam" he jokes and hands me his phone so I can add it in. "I promise. It was really nice to meet you Jungkook" I say handing it back to him, our hands touching a few moments longer for it to be seen as something with the promise of being platonic. 

"Take care" he says giving me a soft smile and then waves at Rae, clearly seeing her not even bothering to hide that she's staring at us. 

"Bye" I say under my breath, not knowing how to feel about anything now that he's gone. 

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[mochamvgz]

the first snow (with you)

; enhypen x reader

; genre: headcanon, pure fluff, established relationship

; warnings: none

; 1k words

; tags: @inkelea @bunreis @sobun1est @aylin-hijabi @kbookshelf

heeseung

we all know he's a huge sleepyhead so ofc you woke up first. you staggered out of bed, rubbing your eyes and looking out the window. you caught sight of the blanket of snow enveloping the earth and suddenly you were wide awake.

“hee!! it snowed last night!”

“huh? 5 more minutes..” he groggily muttered in his sleep.

after a decade of trying to shake him awake, you finally got his attention when you said you'd make him hot chocolate if he woke up, which made him sit upright, tangled up in the blanket. can't blame the guy though, i mean, who can resist a steaming mug of hot cocoa?

jay

when I tell you this guy plans out the entire day while you're in the shower and doesn't waste a minute. he takes out the time you'll need to get ready of course, even goes as far as to pick out your outfit and helps you dry your hair and prepares breakfast while you do your makeup! (is he available on amazon??) he remembered you mentioning wanting to go out sledding with him when it snows once so that was first on the agenda, obviously.

later, you asked him if he would like to do the snowman dance challenge with you and he said yes before you've even finished your sentence. this was your first snow with jay and needless to say, it went beyond anything you'd imagined and left you feeling utterly awed.

jake

the two of you were out for a walk after dinner. you sat down on a bench for a minute to take a break and suddenly he exclaimed, “darling let's go to the namsan tower!” naturally you were a little puzzled due to his outburst but he seemed persistent.

“please we have to go! i just checked the weather forecast and it says it might snow tonight!” that got you up on your feet in an instant.

namsan tower is the highest point in Seoul and an ideal spot to visit for the first snow of the winter, there is also cage-like thing for love locks (please look it up idk how to describe it T.T)

you make it just in time as the first fluttery white particles descend from the sky. “quick! make a wish!” you giggle at jake’s enthusiasm and join your hands to make your wish as he does the same. there's no way you're going back home without attaching a love lock for you and jake.

sunghoon

he's absolutely overjoyed about it. this means he can take you ice skating!!!

“but hoon, i don't know the first thing about skating! what if i fall flat on my face?” you whine, but he shuts down your protests and reassures you that he's got you and you have nothing to worry about. it didn't take long for you to cave and the next thing you know, you're renting skates.

you soon find out that you are, by no means, a natural at the activity. your balance isn't the best and you come dangerously close to face planting a few times but your ice prince manages to catch you each time.

of course sunghoon can't resist showing off a little once you decide you've had enough and opt to watch him from the sidelines.

sunoo

snowman! snowman! snowman!

sunoo has been talking of wanting to build a snowman together ever since the day after thanksgiving and cannot wait for it to snow. looks like today's his lucky day. he wastes no time getting both of you dressed in warm clothes and getting supplies for the snowman (buttons, scarf, hat, etc) and drags you out of the house.

this was your first time making a snowman so your first few tries weren't anywhere near successful but you had the framework for a formidable-looking gentleman on your 5th try. sunoo happily claps as he surveys the frame and gets to work scouring for twigs for its arms as you give it facial features along with a scarf and hat so your new friend doesn't get too cold. sunoo inserts its arms in and you couldn't be more pleased with the result.

jungwon

he insisted on staying indoors where it's warm but you convinced him to go out for the winter carnival, eventually. how could he say no to you? as you're walking around the food stalls munching on a corn dog, jungwon squealed out of the blue, startling you. when you asked him what's wrong he said he felt something cold and wet land on his nose. without a word you took his hand and broke into a sprint, pulling him along to the ferris wheel.

“what…are you..doing?” jungwon lets out while panting, trying not to trip. you asked him to wait and make a beeline straight for the ticket counter, leaving him to catch his breath.

next thing jungwon knows, he's on the top of the ferris wheel with you as a flurry of snowflakes rain down. you pull him into a kiss and his boba eyes widen at the abruptness of it, he eventually melts into it. this is definitely going to be one of his most memorable moments with you.

niki

splat!

a gasp left you as a snowball landed on the side of your face, catching you off-guard. you look up to see the culprit snickering. “so that's how you wanna play nishimura? it's on”

you reached down to scoop a handful of snow, shaping it into something like a sphere and launched it at your boyfriend. the battle only ends once you hold up your arms in surrender. riki first bumps upwards into the air as a gesture of victory and runs over to pull you into a hug. the air is filled with your laughs.

“did i go too hard on you?” he quietly asks and only once you reassure him that you're okay does he let go.

“can we make snow angels now?” his face lights up at that.

“thought you'd never ask, m’lady” goddamn it not that smirk! you end up writing your names together in the snow in between the imprints of your snow angels later.

; note: ty @euncsace for the niki snowball fight idea! i hope you like it! exams are creeping up so y'all might not hear from me as often, might even go on hiatus but i'll try to clear out the reqs in my inbox before that!

© mochamvgz on tumblr | all rights reserved | do not copy, repost or translate

[shadowfloofster]

I've seen people say you can't compare the QSMP to the DSMP because they're both completely different servers with different starts.

The thing is you can compare them. Not the stories told themselves because of course they're going to be different as they're 2 servers with different starts with 2 nearly completely different sets of people.

You can compare the treatment of the creators by the fandom, players (other cc on the server) and admins though.

Foolish for example. He made SO many amazing high quality builds to use and be shown to people. Ranboo and Tubbo had him build a giant mansion for them to live in! Yet it was entered maybe once after being finished. Foolish was able to use his builds for his own lore maybe once. Only a few people like Bad really acknowledged them by messing around in the area of them or adding something easy to get rid of to them as jokes.

Bad's treatment on the DSMP was frustrating to watch. He was the butt of the joke every time he was around. People would constantly swear on his streams because it was so funny for them! They constantly destroyed his and Skeppy's house and griefed the front of it. No one other than his friends really listened to him about things. And the egg arc was supposed to be something that was a massive danger to the server! But how does the server and fandom not directly involved treat it? Like a joke. Bad and his friends clearly worked really hard on this arc to include more than just the 'main characters' and their small circle, yet it was brushed off as if nothing by the players and fandom, treated like it was stupid.

Quackity's lore just kinda- happened. There isn't much I can say as I don't remember a lot of it tbh which isn't a great sign.

Philza and Wilbur probably got the better end of the stick for lore due to being connected to the main lorr, but it still wasn't great for them either.

A lot of CCs not on the QSMP have mentioned how the communication for the server was terrible too. At the start of lore on the DSMP, it made sense as they were purely doing improve so there wasn't really anyone to run things through. But the fact the issue was bad the entire time made the CCs on the server feel ignored and not want to play on it.

It was rare for people to interact with others outside their already established circles unless they're friends outside the server.

Now with the QSMP

Foolish has built multiple things on the server and has been acknowledged by everyone at this point. Bad might mess with them a lot still and encourage others to join him but you can tell the respect people still have for each one. Vagetta wants a version of the statue Foolish built him on other servers. People and fandom admire his builds and always make sure that if there's any damage to it, it's easily undone. Cellbit has made the castle Foolish built him his home the moment it was finished, he's been using it since. He paid him fully and made sure he was fully supplied and had company while building, staying on for hours to talk to him as he built.

Bad is respected by everyone on the server. He's taken seriously by everyone. Everyone trusts him with their kid's lives. Phil asks Bad to babysit Tallulah and Chayanne if he can't. The french trust Bad more than anyone outside their language group. Forever trusts Bad the most on the server other than Baghera. If someone needs something they'll go to him. All the eggs love him and so does the fandom. He's part of the joke instead of the butt of it. He can laugh along with the jokes made, even ones directed at him. When people swear on his streams and he languages them, they immediately apologize and switch to one of Bad's replacements (fudge being the main one) and no one makes fun of it either! They don't start swearing relentlessly at him to annoy him.

Even though Quackity doesn't show up often, when he does people are happy to interact with him and update him on what's happened if he wants it.

People can be off the server for weeks without being isolated because they're not keeping up with major lore, especially as people are happy to update anyone on anything they want to know. Hell people can be on a lot without being involved in lore but still be included as much as anyone else! As soon as there's a threat to the eggs or a new way to protect them, it spreads to everyone like wildfire and everyone's taken it on within a week.

The new arrivals are always welcomed by the islanders already there. They support them and treat with the same respect they do with everyone else. They merge with everyone else nearly immediately and become part of the community without hesitation.

The communication with the admins is clearly amazing too. Philza has pointed out how appreciated he feels compared to other servers. When an egg dies unfairly they're quick to get back to them within hours. If there's a general issues they're quick to get back to them and fix things. People are allowed to have their own stories alongside the main one. Events are planned and discussed so everyones aware before it happens. Anyone who wants to take part is welcome to if it's a big thing due to how open they usually are (rescuing Cellbit and Felps, travelling to Bobby's death site, etc). Thinfs are adapted and changed when needed and all CCs are in the loop.

Being able to watch the QSMP and not feel like any POV I watch is being mistreated or ignored is great. I couldn't watch anything but lore streams with the DSMP because Bad was my main POV and it made me so uncomfortable to watch him being made fun of constantly and be treated as a joke.

The QSMP feels like a community of people, instead of factions trying to go against each other. DSMP was my first and only smp experience and while it was great at first, it quickly soured. The QSMP treats it's CCs and fandom as if they genuinely matter, making sure everyone is welcomed and no one is isolated.

[06sunnybunny06]

Part 2 (Aren't we friends?)

♡♡♡♡

The next morning, when the sun was just rising above the horizon. You went on a treasure hunt. Why Child could control you so easily by playing his weird games. He seems to be quite good and looks like a good guy. It's just that Childe is your friend. That's the whole conversation.

The ancient map of Li Yue differs significantly from the modern one. Many buildings, at the moment, have turned into ruins. There may be a whole story behind a broken column. In fact, you are now watching the ghosts of the past. It would be interesting to move back in time and compare "before" and "after".

Come to think of it, you've never traveled outside of Li Yue. Before that, your home was a small village, hidden from prying eyes. The parents weren't bad, they just tried, as if they were hiding from something. The villagers loved to live the old-fashioned way. Thanks to them, you had a good childhood, but one question haunted you all the time.- "Why live in such a wilderness if there is a big city nearby?". No one tried to answer. You were greeted only with meaningful stares, as if you were asking stupid questions. As someone who grew up in the wilderness, far from crowded places, you wanted to see a different life. In the city, everything was different: the houses were tall, the rhythm of life was faster, even the people were completely different. My parents didn't really approve of the decision to move, but there was nothing they could do.

- Okay, we didn't break up on the best note, but so that we wouldn't even send a single letter all the time? And what is that supposed to mean?! Did they just forget about me?!

While unpleasant thoughts were wandering in my head. There was a crunch a few steps away. You were hiding behind the trees nearby without thinking. No matter how beautiful nature and ancient structures are, this world is still dangerous. Any evil spirits can appear from anywhere.

Two figures appeared in the distance, looking like masked soldiers. If one of them is a little taller than you, then the other is quite huge. They also seem to be armed. The first one has a gun sticking out behind his back, and the second one has a gun...what is it? A huge hammer?! Just don't tell me that these are the fatuis that are not pleasant rumors about.

"How long do we have to stay here?" - you flinched when one of them started grumbling.

- Until the harbingers finish their work in Li Yue. Our task is to look for traitors, if you haven't forgotten.

A heavy sigh followed. - "Our work is hard in itself. You can simply be sent to another country and not be brought up to date for a long time. Some stay because they are simply forgotten! Fatuis are not liked by everyone anyway. What should we do then? Wait for the locals to devour?"

The soldier with the hammer turned his head. "Watch your mouth. If anyone finds out, you will be executed on the spot. Submission to the Queen is the law. It's better not to say too much."

- And yet I feel sorry for these people. They lived as if they didn't exist. Oh, I would also like to settle in a quiet village to meet my old age in peace, but that's all.

The second soldier nodded. - "Yes..."

- Considering who our boss is, we're not going to get it. They say he's a real psycho.

Their voices could be heard for some time, until they completely subsided behind the dense foliage. After waiting for some more time, you got out of your hiding place. Everything seems to be calm. They're gone. It was eerily scary to even move. Who knows what they are capable of?

You've looked around the area again. The map shows the way from point A to point B and nothing superfluous. It seems that you are close to your "treasures". Whatever it is.

As the journey continued, the familiar surroundings attracted attention. You've seen this place before. I'm just remembering when it was. "This can't be happening." - The legs walked faster. A familiar sight opened up on the hill. It was your native village. Is this really the destination? You were already suffocating from the strain. Childe couldn't have known about this place…

When you went downstairs, the familiar house of an elderly woman appeared around the corner. She used to look after you when your parents were away on business. Today she has been dead for a long time. Someone had to occupy an empty house. But there wasn't a soul on the street. The wind walked alone between the houses, leaving a void in its wake. Now you're really scared.

You found yourself near your house. It became so quiet that even the creaking of the stairs underfoot seemed like a thunderclap. When the hand reached for the handle, the door opened quietly. The house is not only empty, but also as if no one has lived here for a long time. Mom would never have allowed such a layer of dust, knowing her cleanliness.

You were trying to find at least some signs of life with your eyes when you noticed a piece of paper lying on the table. It seemed to have been placed in a prominent place on purpose. The piece of paper was quickly in your hands. A message was written in it:

"Hello, my dear. Congratulations to you! You've won our little game! I would like to see your smile, but there were some difficulties, so I couldn't come in person. I'm sorry, and I promise, this is the last time! A gift is waiting for you in your room!

With love, your friend is Childe.

You were in shock. How the hell does he know?! How does he know this place? Where are all the residents, and most importantly, where are your parents?!

The head turned towards the door. A little girl used to grow up behind her. The walls of the room remember a lot of emotions - from loud laughter to bitter tears. There was a small box with a bow on the bed. His hands trembled as he opened it. There was a silver ring inside. It wasn't just a decoration. It belonged to your mother. Fingers gently pulled it out of the box. Something else was born. Tears rolled down your cheeks when you noticed the dried maroon spots. The legs immediately rushed to the exit. Maybe they were running away from something, or it was all a bad dream. In the morning you will wake up in a cold sweat, not thinking about him anymore.

When you ran out of the house, a sharp pain pierced your head. The unconscious body collapsed to the ground. You distinctly heard someone say the word "damn." The tears continued to flow until my mind completely shut down.

You woke up in a dark room. Although there was a lamp on the bedside table, some dark areas were still difficult to see. The pain was sharp in the back of the head. You tried to sit up when a familiar voice rang out. "Are you finally awake?"

Your body is numb. It was Childe. He was waiting for your answer. You could barely squeeze out a couple of sentences in a painful voice. - "Yes. My head hurts terribly."

The guy almost purred when he heard your voice. So you're more than okay. "One of my soldiers underestimated his strength. He hit you on the head, but don't worry. I punished him personally." He sighed, suppressing his anger. Some fool dared to harm you. Tartaglia made it clear that you needed to be caught and disabled, not knocked out with all your might. Fortunately, he is no longer a tenant.

- A soldier? "there are memories behind the transparent veil. How did you come to an empty village, how did you find your mother's ring in the house..."

His right hand rose involuntarily, revealing a silver ornament on his index finger. You've always admired him. The image of the snowflake accurately conveyed the connection with its owner. Your mother, like you, had the vision of a Cryo. There was a midnight jade in the core, which shone with a blue light in the dark. My father gave it to me for their anniversary. This time it was completely clean.

- Why do I have my mother's ring on my finger?

Chade shuddered. He sighed heavily, sitting down next to her on the bed.

- The fact is that... I don't think there's any point in lying to you. Since you're in danger, it's better to find out everything at once.

You looked at him expectantly as he began his story.

"I am the eleventh harbinger of Fatua, and it is my duty to do the Queen's will. She is the ruler of the Snow Kingdom. Each fatui must take an oath of allegiance, entrusting his life to her. If the oath is not fulfilled for one reason or another, the person will die. Those who shirk their duty become traitors and face the same fate. I have nothing against your parents, but they were previously from Fatua, and I think you know how it ended....

You didn't believe his words. More precisely, they didn't reach you. - "No. This is your stupid joke again, isn't it? Are you lying to me as always?" "You didn't even notice yourself when you started crying again. Everything fits together very well. The puzzle is coming together. Their caution was always infuriating. It seemed to you that a free person should be happy and not be afraid of anything. But they were trapped in their fears from the very beginning. The Fatuis were hunting for them. As a result, they are no more. And whose fault is it? "Are they dead? Did you kill them?"

Childe began to shake his head negatively. "I wouldn't dare. You know, I have a family myself..."

You sobbed, burying your face in the blanket. What's going to happen now? How to live with the thought of the death of your family now. You didn't even have time to say goodbye.…

Childe hugged you. His heart hurt more with every tear that fell out of your eyes. If there was an option not to cripple your psyche..

- You know, I helped you with something.

You lifted your head, wiping away the remnants of your tears. - "What are you talking about?"

"You would have suffered the same fate if I hadn't intervened. The authorities wanted to get rid of all the recalcitrants, but you were not in Fatui when they escaped.

You nodded, and the guy smiled with satisfaction. "I have an idea. In order not to attach you to this dangerous organization as another unfortunate soldier. So I decided to marry you.....Ta-da!"

Your eyes widened and stared at him, but Childe continued. "The Queen has approved our marriage. It turns out that you were born in Snezhnaya. This means that it will be right to return you to the embrace of your native land. My family is waiting for my return. They will be glad to meet you."

"Are you saying that our marriage is my salvation?"

The guy nodded. "I personally buried your parents in another place. It seemed to me that it would be better than lying in a mass grave. Your mother's ring will be our bond. It will be difficult to accept their death, but nothing can be done. I'll be there to help you deal with everything."

You were grateful for his help. Although this is not the life you planned, it's still better than serving a dangerous organization.

Your face brightened, and you nodded approvingly. Childe could barely restrain himself from grabbing you and kissing you. He must not spoil this moment. Everything is going too well.

"I'd like to see the graves." I need to say goodbye to them at least like that.

Tartaglia nodded at your wish. -"Of course dear. You need to visit them so they don't worry about you. Then you will definitely be free." - He took you in his arms again. This is the best day of his life, and it will be even better when you get married....

[kiwanopie]

I was super surprised when people were asking for a part two but I have delivert! Not completely sure if I’m acknowledging this plot as canon

Resolution

crime lord!Kiyoomi x reader

cw: mention of a toxic power dynamic, more lore about the reader (kind of), insinuating past thoughts of suicide,

wc: 3.5k

He’s bridging an inhale when he walks in, the smell of tea tree and coconut oil immediately turns his eyes glassy.

It smells like you. Overwhelmingly so, does it smell just as he remembered. To such a degree that it reopens those kindred wounds left by grief and desperation, and bleeds until his mind is all but soaked in thoughts of you again - until it’s all you again. Like where you’ve been. What’s this life you’ve cooked up without him? Why did you leave and take his heart with you? Kiyoomi doesn’t know whether to be furious or confused, so he splits the difference and settles for overwhelmed.

The apartment looks like something you’d like. Quaint little thing, but you’re all over it; and just that could make a shack feel like a bel air mansion. Little paintings and mounted instruments, framed posters that point him down the hall. Discarded house shoes sit haphazardly near the dinner table that are reminiscent of old habits. Like putting the honey where you can see it, leaving dishes in the drying rack, or leaving the bedroom door cracked whenever you’re not home.

The barrage of familiarity hits him like a freight train when he enters your bedroom.

It immediately turns him pink. Hot under the eyes carnation that stings as much as the reassurance soothes. If the front of the home were trace remnants of you then this is you all but laid out for him. To the wall paint to the decorative pieces, fairy lights that twinkle in your absence. It’s a reminder, all at once. That’s you’re alive, that you’re living, and that you’re still you; that you’re still his.

Kiyoomi takes a seat on the plush mattress and grabs one of your pillows. Suit jacket crinkling as he lifts it up to his nose and takes a big whiff - he ignores the fresh wet stains as he pulls it back for another look.

He’s holding the flowery little ball of cotton up to his chest when he hears the front door click open.

Those quiet footsteps make him furrow until there’s a voice accompanying it.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just came straight home after the conference. I’m gonna make a protein shake and then barricade myself in my room.”

He’s immediately holding back a sob.

It’s you. God, it’s you. It’s you. “I’m fine! I’m-… I was just really frazzled yesterday and I spoke without thinking. I’m not a danger to myself.”

He hears the telltale sound of house keys clicking against glass tabling as you move for the kitchen. “Well, why did you even bother asking?”

You sigh and Kiyoomi can almost see the pout on your face. This has all gotten so surreal that he’s frozen in place. Staring at the door like a locked up cat and trying his best to maintain his composure. “Well, text me when you’re on your way. So I’ll know it’s you who’s at the door.”

“A’right,” You clink a few pieces of silverware. “Okay, see you then, Tooru-kun.”

Tooru-kun.

He shouldn’t feel so nauseated hearing another man’s name come out your mouth.

Your footsteps interchange as you pad through the apartment, amplify and lessen as you move from room to room. Your bare feet make dull thumps against the solid wood following the hallway - a door opens. You mumble something under your breath as you toe into a further room, and then exhale as you exit.

You’re walking toward your bedroom.

Kiyoomi’s breaths are shallow as you come nearer. He doesn’t dare to move a muscle.

You open the door.

You stare at each other.

You don't know when your room suddenly became so airless. You don't know when your apartment building lifted off its hedges and floated off into space, when the walls started moving, or when you stopped producing spit in your mouth. - You just know that everything is going too fast and then not at all. Your little sundress feels like string, your skin feels thin and papery, just seeing him in here has you throbbing like an open wound. Stinging. Your heart is beating into your chest so hard you can hear it in your ears. Your fingers twitch. You feel like you should be making a run for it but you’re welded into the ground. The pillow in his hands feels completely removed from the black hole that is him and that is turning your little safe haven into fragmented pieces. He’s looking at you and it's overbearing - already you feel like a pinched nerve. There’s nothing you can do to escape and just the thought of that makes you feel like your ribs are breaking.

He’s been crying.

He’s been crying so much that his skin looks pale, much in comparison to the deep raw spots that turn the bottoms of his eyes boysenberry. He’s lost a few noticeable pounds. There’s scabbing left on some of his knuckles but that’s not what’s new, it’s that he’s been clearly picking with them, out of some new nervous habit or just to feel the sting; but he’s clearly been disturbed in their time apart. Grieving and falling apart. He looks like a victim. You could say there’s some irony in that.

Kiyoomi’s eyebrows twitch. They furrow and then they’re neutral again. He’s in such an internal struggle to find an appropriate reaction that his face can barely keep up. But residentially he’s dumbstruck. Slowly stepping into motion as your strings pull taut and every bit by bit gets faster.

And more desperate.

He’s pulling you in his arms before he knows what to do with himself.

Your body goes limp as his arms cage around you. He’s hugging you like it’s the only thing that’ll keep you solid, and real, - and alive. Even when your heart jackrabbits he can only be thankful that it’s around to hear. He digs his nose in your hair and breathes it in till his lungs ache. Your stray hairs catch softly on his lips as he cranes his head to scatter desperate kisses on anything they can land on. You’re here. In his arms again and warm with blood and beating arteries. He can feel your chest expand every time you inhale, hear your breaths when you blow them out of your nose. You’re real. You’re real. And you’re all his again. In his arms where you belong and he’s gonna do everything in his power to keep that true.

Kiyoomi’s voice is cushioned by the top of your scalp as he speaks, it smooths out the little warble in his words. “Oh god… Where have you been…”

“How could you do something like this to me? What…” He shutters. His tears are wetting your hair. “…I thought you were dead… I thought you were gone…”

You meekly push against his stomach when his hold starts to make it hard to breathe. “I love you so much… I love you so much… I love you. I love you. Please, god… Please… I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t-… I can’t go through that again. You can’t do this again, it’ll kill me. It’ll-“

Kiyoomi’s body heaves forward as he tries not to openly sob. He expands and then tightens all over again. He’s cradling you so desperately that it muses your hair out of place. He’s groveling.

“…I’ll do anything. Anything. Whatever it is… I just… Not this,” He sniffles. “Anything but this. - Anything but this. I’m not… I won’t make it a second time,”

Kiyoomi avows and your blood runs cold. “I won’t. I won’t. This won’t happen a second time. I’ll burn this whole fucking nation to the ground if I have to, do you hear me? I won’t lose you again.”

“K-… Kiyoomi…”

The sound of his name on your lips turns him spongy.

Kiyoomi hiccups into your hair. “Fuck…Fuck..!”

————

You haven’t slept like this in a while.

If there’s one good thing about his poisons it’s that the residual effects don’t linger. You’ve kept your tolerance to the nausea thankfully enough. Vertigo that the sedative induces only happens in split second intervals, it’s only a few blinks till it’s gone. And all that’s left to deal with is the muscular lethargy, temporary at least, but it feels like you’re being weighed down by bell bars. You’ve always hated waking up like this.

You raise on your elbow to push the stray hairs out of your face, he’s already sitting you a cup of coffee on the bedside table.

You lay again on your back with a long sigh. Everything’s still the same. Same light vanilla smell, cologne on the blankets, same plush fabric - so preserved it feels new. You’d almost say he was the same Kiyoomi, if not for the new bags under his eyes.

You count his tousled curls in the ceiling mirror as he sits on the bed beside you. His palms are hot to the touch as he rests one on your naked leg.

His thumb draw’s circles. “Explain.”

You blow out a quiet sigh. You haven’t had to tell this old story in a few years. You hope you still remember the fine details.

“…Gesethame scouts used an emp to disengage my tracker while I was walking around the venue. I didn’t even notice until I heard the car blow up.”

Kiyoomi nods. “Why didn’t you come back to me when the smoke cleared?”

Not like any of this was entirely willing. “They were already waiting for me when I caught my bearings. My director was already there.”

“She…” You swallow. “She never knew that the two of us were… together. And when she found out she immediately disapproved. She said that I had wasted the freedom she gave me. Threw back in her face… So, she gave me two choices,”

Kiyoomi stares into his coffee cup. “Resume my position as a scout and renew my elite status. I'd be working the same contracts under my old alias, she’d still be my director, we’d pretend to like none of this happened,”

“Or, I gamble. I make myself useful and try for power, maybe become an asset. She’ll let me have that freedom if it’s on a leash.”

“But- And this is a big but,” You breathe. “If she ever thinks that I’m living my life and using my borrowed freedom in a way that she deems is insufficient, she takes it back and I have no choices. I work for her, I don’t complain, I don’t so much as wipe my ass without her saying so.”

“So you chose politics?” Kiyoomi furrows.

“I stumbled upon it. Before you and I met I was friends with this guy whose father was a big part of national access. When I popped up in the same neighborhood again he sought me out. He said that the local government was looking for new perspectives, that his dad could get me in. That my “worldliness” qualified as experience,”

“It wasn’t hard to get in. Even if I wasn’t seasoned.” You close your eyes. “His dad guards the prime minister.”

You can almost hear Kiyoomi start to clench his teeth.

“I was graded in the upper house, so I’m probably in their system. I suppose that’s how you found my address.”

“Your director’s blackmailing those people, you know. Those same people used to work for me.”

That ties a little knot in your throat. “Huh.”

Kiyoomi takes in a wide breath through his nose and blows it out slowly. His broad back makes shadows in the morning light from where you’re laying, thin cotton turning eggshell in the sun rays. He slept in his clothes from yesterday, you notice. Kiyoomi doesn’t usually touch the furniture before jumping into a hot shower, you know he gets itchy if he’s in the same thing for too long. - But telling by his dark eyes and pale cheeks, slow movements that stutter as they rise; you can tell he’s tired. That he’s been tired, and that these last few years have been torture for him.

You hate how much seeing him like this makes your heart ache. You hate that in the time that you’ve been gone you’ve missed him dearly.

He shakes his head. “I could’ve saved you. You could’ve come to me, I wouldn’t have let her touch you.”

“You don’t know my director.” You whisper. “You don’t know what she’d do just to get the things she’s owed. I wouldn’t have wanted you to get hurt in the process.”

And even though you’re buttering him up you mean it to a large extent. Long gone are the days you wanted him bleeding, dead, or worse. Long is the time you’ve spent reflecting on your time with him, on your feelings for him, on your feelings for the whole situation in general. You wanted a choice. It’s what you’ve always wanted. And you can’t be blamed for getting out of one inescapable situation into another, and then resenting that. But Kiyoomi at the very least had your best interests at heart. Loved you and meant it when he said he did. Never hurt you, never intentionally put you in harm’s way. Sure, he took away your autonomy. But it’s better to be owned and cared for than to be used up until you’re no more.

He promised that he couldn’t live without you. Gave you his heart and trusted that you’ll keep it within reach. In the time you’ve been gone you can see that he’s neither lived nor loved. There's reassurance in that.

The bed mumbles as you lift yourself off your back, the mattress gives under your knees. You watch him goosebump as you crawl toward him, and melt completely when your arms wrap around his waist.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur against his back. “You don’t deserve what grief has done to you.”

Kiyoomi feels hot behind the eyes.

“I missed you so much I wanted to die.” He holds his hand over yours. “I considered it a lot. Just leaving and being with you.”

You coax his fingers into yours.

“I never got rid of your name.” You whisper. “It was a bitch to get it expunged from my records but it’s still on my license. I still called myself a Sakusa.”

You press a warm kiss to his shoulder. “I’m still your wife.”

He feels like he’s dreaming.

———

Tooru furrows at his phone.

Cutie pie: btw i just got It Takes Two on digital! im gonna set everything up for when u get here so we can play!

Tooru: How fun!! Can’t wait to be bad at it!

Tooru: hi:) open up! i will literally scream if this dinner gets cold

Tooru: Yellow? I’m here!!!

Tooru: Cutie?

He spams the doorbell a fifth time. Where the hell are you?

Tooru takes a long thoughtful moment to stare at your front door before he’s placing the bag of Onigiri and his feet. And for a split second he debates if his concern is worth coming off like a pervert. But he decides to squint in your peephole anyway. Lowering his neck as he cups his hands over the little glass, he sees nothing but the beginnings of your living room and the faint glow of your hallway light. He pulls away with a grimace. He knows your roommate won’t be home for the next six or so hours, and that the last time you two spoke you were settling yourself at home after that procedure conference. He ducks for the bag again. Maybe you have your headphones on?

Tooru pulls the backup key out of a bush of thistle on his way up.

The apartment is silent when he opens the door, soundless as he slides his shoes off. Not even the hum of a running heating unit can be heard as he walks further in, which is odd, because despite the way you carry yourself - You always make sure to keep the apartment toasty in these early winter months. You wore a sundress today. Complained that you were cold and then rolled your eyes when Tooru called you stupid for dressing like it’s May. But he gave you his jacket anyway. He glances at the coat rack. It’s not there.

Did you leave? “Sunshine?”

No response.

He furrows.

It’s not like you to just ditch him without saying anything. Maybe you assumed he’d come in anyway? You still wouldn’t leave without saying anything. Your house shoes are still half flipped over under the dining table, hallway lights set dim in the hallway. He knows you were here recently but, wouldn’t he have passed by you at some point?

Tooru gets to your door and twists the handle, it opens with a neat click.

“Pretty? Are you in the bathroom?” He sets the bag on your bed. The bathroom door is slightly open but he doesn’t see any shadows moving. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose. You wouldn’t do anything stupid to yourself, would you? No. No, that shouldn’t be his first thought. He knows you’ve been all wound up since this whole thing with your old boss and the Sakusa corporation. That you’ve been jumpy and nervous and saying things out of fear, but he doesn’t think you’ll hurt yourself. He trusts you when you say you were only speaking without thinking.

But even still he pushes the bathroom door open without so much as knocking. “_____?”

Not in here.

He peers at your box of hair care products and finds that none of them have even been touched yet. The floor is still dry, the tub hasn’t been touched, the lotion is still where you keep it. Not even a hair tie has been left out of place. He knows you’ve been here? He heard you walk through the door. What, did you walk in and walk right back out?

Tooru trots through your bedroom down to your roommates. He knows that he should at least knock before barging into someone else’s room but he’s currently trying to talk himself out of a crisis. I mean, there’s no reason to panic. You probably forgot something and went out to get it again. Probably thought you’d be back before he got here. Come to think of it, he didn’t even check to see if your shoes were in the genkan.

He exhales. Not in here either.

His eyes catch something before he backs out of the room.

“She didn’t…?” There’s a PlayStation unplugged and sitting on the counter.

He jogs to your bedroom to gather his phone, already pushing your contact and pressing the phone to his head before it can even ring.

The dial tone bristles for a complete minute.

“03-3715-4893 is not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Tooru kisses his teeth and tries again.

“03-3715-4893 is not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Again.

“03-3715-4893 is not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone.”

And again.

“03-3715-4893 is not available to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone.”

“What the fuck?”

His fingers messily fumble against his phone as the dial tone rings over the speaker. All but swallowed by the silence of the apartment, the empty air, and your pastel walls. He doesn’t know what’s gotten louder at this point, his breaths or his heart. He just hopes to god that this cold sweat is for nothing, and that he’s panicking over something small.

You probably left to go to the store.

You’re probably in the parking lot.

You’re probably already making your way up the stairs.

Tooru: Where are you? I’m seriously getting worried

Tooru: Did you go to the store or something? Wherethe hell are you?

The texts are sent with a silent vibration. He’s speaking into the room as it delivers.

“_____, sweetheart, it’s Tooru. Where are you?” He paces around the room. “I texted you almost… an hour ago and said I was here. Did you go out again? I see that you didn’t plug up the PlayStation like you said and I’m worried something might’ve happened. Is your phone dead or something? If you’re not here by seven I’m gonna start looking for you.”

Tooru sighs a little exasperatedly. “Just text me and tell me you’re okay if nothing else. I won’t be mad if you-“

Tooru’s eyes catch something on the bed.

He pauses as he inches towards it, bristles and stiffens like a frightened cat. His eyes scour it like it’s something else, like it should be something else. Traces the zipper, the writing on the sleeve. Pale whites and water blues that are still haughty in the falling sun, still unshrouded by dusk but the more he looks over it the more he feels crowded in a casted shadow.

It has to be something else.

He moves the bag of Onigiri aside and blanches.

It’s his jacket.

He nearly jumps when his phone vibrates in his hand.

Cutie pie: I went to the market! Can we hang out another time maybe?

Tooru: Who the hell is this?

The texting bubble shakes.

And then it stops.

“You can no longer direct message this contact.”

Tooru feels his heart sink.

[joyride-time]

Why’d Gil Snitch On Tarvek: Theories

Gil inherited a few things from Klaus. One of them is a tendency to avoid expositing. Among other things, he’s very closemouthed about his childhood. Because of this, we don’t know much about Gil as a kid or his mindset from Gil himself.

So why did he snitch on Tarvek about his intel stash and believe Klaus was right about him for over a decade? Some theories:

1. He’s Just Not That Into Him Theory

Why does Gil refuse to believe Agatha is the Other, but decide his father is right about Tarvek when they got caught looking for Gil’s family tree? Occam’s Razor (that thing can cut through anything!): Gil didn’t like Tarvek as much as he likes Agatha.

It’s hard to disprove it because there's no one else to scale Gil's relationships with back then except Von Pinn and Klaus, whose relationship with Gil is totally different. Gil didn’t know Agatha as long as he knew Tarvek at those points, but you can like someone you don’t know. Nothing requires Gil to have liked Tarvek as much as Agatha. Tarvek was Gil’s best friend… out of zero other friends. How much does Gil have to like and trust Tarvek to recruit him for the family tree search? Who knows. Tarvek is the one who cracked the safe in the flashback, and we don’t know if Gil could do that himself back then. The information they were searching for was something Gil probably wanted to tell everyone anyways. And they have their Paris interactions to get to know each other better in the future.

2. Klaus-Gil Dynamic Swing Theory

Klaus is always right… that’s something Gil doesn’t seem to have questioned before he discovers Klaus’ mistake with Agatha. At seven years old, Gil trusts Klaus’ judgment more than his own. At twenty-two years old, Gil is more critical of taking everything Klaus says at face value. He’s also got a whole decade of change and growth behind him. In Book 2 Gil and Theo have this exchange: “You sounded just like the Gil I grew up with.” “I’m not,” Gil said flatly. “Too many things have changed. I’ll never be that person again.” He smiled and punched Theo in the arm. “But I can remember the important bits.”

So it's a different Gil making different judgment calls.

3. Suspicious Sturmvoraus Theory

It’s Tarvek. Even when they’re on better terms Gil (and Agatha) are suspicious about him working at multiple purposes. Tarvek initially approached Gil to make him his minion at the age of seven. Tarvek also thinks that Klaus told Gil about Tarvek’s family, so Tarvek himself may have told Gil very little about them, or censored what he did share. If so, having a sudden info dump about their many sins probably didn’t help anything. We also don’t know what kind of schemes Tarvek got into where Gil could see them, but Gil does know that he got a secret hiding spot. And that he’s extremely good at lying. So he looked at Tarvek and decided yeah, he's probably lying to him.

4. Trust Issues Theory

Before Tarvek, Gil had really poor relationships with his peers. Or at least, any positive ones he used to have were broken off. Present day Gil is a very friendly guy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Gil tried to make friends… maybe even succeeded… and then they fell apart. If so, it wouldn’t be strange if part of Gil was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Something made Gil want to custom-build his own, very dependent friend construct. Definitely not a surfeit of healthy relationships with his peers.

5. Perceived Vulnerability Theory

Agatha needs protection from what Gil can see in the first arc. She’s a female Spark in an Europa where they all disappear if not well-protected. He meets her at one of her lowest points and works to build her up. Their second meeting had him pluck her from her house after she got sedated. She gets more dangerous afterwards, but Klaus does a poor job at explaining things and is very clear that leveling the town she's in to kill her is an option. Tarvek is a prince and the son of a powerful Spark, on a ship where both qualities are enormously important to their peers. They may be hostages but neither felt very endangered by it. Book 4 also states that Gil had “done his best at the time to get Tarvek sent away”, which could just be referring to ratting him out, but could also be a sign that Klaus’ first impulse was not to send Tarvek back to his family, which makes Tarvek seem even less in danger. Gil thinks if he sides against Tarvek Tarvek will just get sent back home, where he’ll continue to be a prince… and how bad can that be? Whereas with Agatha he saw a little fledgling who was going to be someone’s personal property fighting hard to avoid that. They're very different perspectives.

I'm curious what other people's theories are, so please share if you feel like it.

[witchofthesouls]

Lately all I can think of is TFP Optimus being demon bait. Amongst every iteration that I seen with the Matrix, he feels more like a placeholder involving the relic than an actual Champion for Primus. Plus TFP is the only one who doesn't retain any knowledge about his past as Orion Pax.

Placeholders are easier to tempt than champions since they aren't fully protected or warned of the danger. The Matrix of Leadership practically rats him out to anything supernatural when you consider it acts more like a vessel unlike other relics. Optimus is gonna have a mixed time should a demon hone in on him.

I get what you're saying. All the strange and, let's face it, very sus Artifacts are painting a very wild picture.

Personally, while I do believe TFP Optimus is a legitimate Prime, he isn't a fully realized one. It gets weirder with the Canon lore in the Aligned verse that the Matrix was housed with Prima's Star Saber and that Optimus is supposed to be the reincarnation of the mysterious Thirteen. Plus, Metroplex from the games vouched his status as a Prime: "Metroplex heeds the call of the last Prime." (Fall of Cybertron game)

I wonder how come the writers didn't go with the Primal Artifacts being semi-sentient? It would really make sense with the mythos and immense powers, especially since those tools can be only wielded by a Prime. So the building blocks were there. Or, have the ghost of Prima within the Matrix that's controlling new ordained champions, and it's intefering with Thirteen's connections? The Matrix has an established history of reformatting new bearers, so is it a big surprise that they're turned into Prima's thoughts of a prefect guardian? Prima has different Aspects and Domains compared to his youngest brother.

The themes of identity and self-determination are there. I think he internally struggled with it. Is he Orion Pax of Alpha Trion? Optimus Prime of Prima? Are they one and the same mask? Does he remember the Wilds in his dreams? Did he have hopes and plans for reconstruction? At night, does he recounts all the steps that brought him to that point?

But yeah, TFP!Optimus would be a succulent prize for a supernatural entity. The Matrix is both a beacon and lighthouse. To see a mortal God-King or a divine champion drowning in uncertainty would turn the very dangerous or very desperate towards him because a contract could be established.

Weirdly enough, out of all the Autobots, I think Optimus would have the easiest time navigating any potential entities. Orion Pax lived and breathed in doublespeak as an archivist directly sponsored by Alpha Trion himself. He knows the intricate dance to steer between treacherous allies and hostile enemies and how to be very leery of certain agreements. Orion was stuck between impossible contradictions of his status.

Ratchet has had certain privileges afforded by his function and frame. He's comfortable taking over things and saying his piece, especially among the current team. He also has a poor opinion of non-Cybertronian anything. He would either be killed for insolence and disrespect or be ensnared in a dream that gives him his deepest wishes. Arcee, depending on your viewpoint, is either lucky or unlucky, especially since she survives all her partnerships. Even Jack Darby, no matter how careful, has a human lifespan, which is seafoam to a Cybertronian. Something would latch onto her anger and grief. Bulkhead can be a very considerate soul. Some being would be charmed by the mech. Bumblebee is kind, and Smokescreen can be impulsive and so very clever. Traits that are endearing to many entities in old tales.

Optimus would have his hands full should something start sniffing around the base.